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#no idea what my prompt will be and i can't wait!!
mimisempai · 3 days
Text
Our invisible scars
Summary
Aziraphale and Crowley have no visible scars, but the ones you can't see are the ones that hurt the most. Fortunately, each is the other's healing balm.
Notes
50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts - Complete!!!
Last kiss: A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.
On Ao3
Rating G -  1327 words
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When Crowley entered the bookshop, he immediately sensed from the quality of the silence that something was wrong.
He called softly, "Angel?"
"I'm here." 
Aziraphale's voice came from further inside the bookshop, so the demon stepped forward and was astonished to find the angel sitting on the sofa, elbows on knees, head in hands.
Though the sofa now often welcomed both of them, it was almost common knowledge that it was the place of Crowley and the armchair belonged to Aziraphale.
Now absolutely certain that something was wrong with his angel, the demon came to sit beside him and asked softly, "What's wrong, Angel?"
The angel straightened up and replied quietly, "Nothing serious. I just had a little talk with Muriel about scars."
Crowley, confused at first, asked, "Scar?" then grabbed the Angel's hand and continued, now worried, "Did you hurt yourself? You have a wound I don't know about? But how? What happened?"
Aziraphale smiled faintly before replying, "Don't worry, I've got nothing.  After all, we don't mark, we're angels and demons. In fact, this was the subject of our discussion with Muriel: they had trouble understanding the concept of having a scar, the human concept. And so, as I explained it to them, I realized that you and I have our share of scars, even if they aren't visible."
The angel's expression darkened as he added, "Even if they aren't, the memory of the injury is very present and is like a visible scar, the reminder of the wound that was here. Not completely healed."
It was then that the demon understood what the angel meant and nodded before gently taking his lover's hand and waiting for him to continue. 
Aziraphale intertwined his fingers with the his lover's before resuming, "Talking to Muriel made me realize how much Heaven had scarred us, all of us. And I couldn't help but think that you probably had the biggest scar of them all, and especially that I had contributed to rubbing salt into it for many years."
Crowley understood absolutely nothing of what the angel had just said and looked at him in complete confusion as he said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
The angel squeezed the demon's hand and explained, "You were cast out of heaven. You went from being an angel to being a demon, and every time you told me about something you'd done, I told you it was normal because it was your nature, because you were a demon, while all I did was reopen the wound, over and over again, without allowing it to close. I'm sor-"
Aziraphale was unable to continue because Crowley had swiftly removed his hand from his and had just grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him firmly before saying in an almost harsh tone, "You're torturing yourself for this? Angel, if you only knew, it's been so long since that scar healed. And it's thanks to you. Your trust when I was supposed to be your enemy, your acceptance of who I was when we met again. Do you think I really took it to heart every time you told me that it was in my nature as a demon? No, because despite your words, I knew we were on the same side, that you had my back as much as I had yours. In fact, I think you've got it all wrong. The one with the most scars, or the deepest scars left by Heaven, is you, Angel."
"Crowley, it's not true, I didn't--"
The demon shook his head to stop him and replied, "Don't tell me it's not true."
He placed his hand gently on the angel's chest and said more softly, "This here, this sweet heart, has endured the bullying of Heaven for more years than it takes to say it. You've endured belittlement, condescension, scorn far more often than I have, and by your own. From those who were supposed to be on your side, more than from me, who was supposed to be your enemy. I don't care if they say I'm a demon, that it's in my nature to do evil. I know who I am. As long as I have your trust and love, the rest doesn't matter. You forced yourself to do what they wanted, even when it seemed unfair, and when you dared to think outside the box, they just tried to put you back in it. All of this was like a wound that never had time to heal, reopening over and over for thousands of years."
The demon watched the angel swallow several times before he let out a long sigh. Then Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley's still on his chest and said in a voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "But it healed. Thanks to you."
The demon shook his head, but the angel continued insistently, "You healed it and you continue to heal it, Crowley, with every little word of praise, every kind word buried under a layer of humor, every time you encouraged me to just be outside the box. For 10,000 little wounds inflicted by Heaven, you, your presence, every time, was the saving balm that took the sting out of it all. So no matter how much I suffered, I knew you would ease the pain."
The angel raised the demon's hand to his lips to press a long kiss to the palm. But as he moved to release it, Crowley slid his hand to the back of the Angel's neck and pulled his face closer to his own, crushing his lips against the angel's. 
The kiss, tender at first, soon became fierce, each clutching the other's face as if each were the other's lifeline.
Then, little by little, the frenzy of the kiss gave way to something gentler, and Crowley's hands slid from the angel's neck to his shoulders before gently pushing him back until the angel had no choice but to lie back on the sofa. Crowley, for his part, moved so that he was lying on top of Aziraphale, both elbows framing the face lit by a small, trembling smile.
The demon, visibly moved, pressed a light kiss to the angel's lips and said softly, "All these scars, I wish I could kiss them away one by one.
His gaze was caught by a tear rolling down the angel's cheek, and he wiped it away with his lips, beginning a trail of kisses that spread along the cheek to the angel's jaw before following the curve down to the hollow of his neck.
Once there, the demon straightened and placed his hands on the first button of the angel's shirt, looking him straight in the eye. 
Aziraphale, understanding the silent question, simply nodded.
Crowley smiled gently at him before opening his shirt, button by button. He didn't undo all the buttons, just enough to expose the angel's chest. 
Then the demon leaned forward and said softly, "I wish I could kiss it better," then closed the distance between his lips and the bare chest and planted a long kiss on it.  
He let the kiss linger until he felt Aziraphale's hands rest on his head and the angel forced him to lift it, saying softly, "That's what you do, you kiss it better, and that's long before you put your lips here."
Aziraphale ran his thumb over the demon's lips before pulling him up and saying softly, "Come here."
He drew Crowley's face to his and planted a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping his arms around his lover to hold him close. The demon buried his face in the angel's neck and slid his hand between their pressed bodies, right where he'd kissed him on the chest. On his wounded heart. Between their wounded hearts.
They stayed like that for a long time, in an embrace that did more than words to soothe the scars the past had left in their hearts.
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable kisses series : here
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2
Part 1 Story 1-99
Part 2 Story 100-?
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galladrabbles · 2 days
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Hi Gallavich friends :) I am excited to share this week's prompt which is:
"Thank you"
As a challenge, I'm letting you know that I have my own idea for this prompt ;) I wonder if any of you will write it!
Do with that what you will, but don't feel pressured! Write whatever fuels your Gallavich heart <3!
I can't wait to see what you all do with this! Everyone here is so talented :))
Hey N'dia,
THANK YOU for your prompt this week!
We hope you will show us your drabble bingo card after this week is over 😉
Everyone say "THANK YOU!" to N'dia!
Happy Drabbling Everyone!
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mighty-ant · 1 month
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There's a tf reverse big bang that's still in its sign up period! (tf-bigbang)
hey, i'm actually already signed on as a writer!
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fisheito · 6 days
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for the question thing!!! do you have any silly hcs about the clan boys (+ the familiars/eito)? can be as wild as u want
sorry in advance if i don't have any HCs for ur beloveds bc i can only offer what my brain chooses to fixate on.... but let's see........
i like to imagine clan members enjoying fun little hobby hours
i pretend they're not busy adults with their own obligations and schedules.... so they just get together like a bunch of retirees and partake in shared hobbies whenever they want 🤗
e.g.,
book club: oli, blade, yaku, garu
horny book club: eiden, morv, blade, edmond if he works up the courage to discuss his fave BDSM PwP short novel with the 3 most shameless creatures ever ... honestly oli could join as well but i'm gonna excuse him from ONE book club so he can get some sleep. maybe he'll alternate days between the two 😆
sewing and knitting together like a couple of serene grandmas: yakuoli. eiden joins sometimes (all serenity is lost when he does)
TARGET PRACTICE! NEW ACTIVITIES!!! DARTS!! ! PIN THE TAIL ON THE EDMOND! sorry idk this is just my way of saying that after the cowboy event, i want to imagine edmond/dante/garu all playing target striking games and it becomes a contest of how split one dart can be down the middle (you can't all be perfect aimers ok aster can't keep buying new darts can u PLEASE throw them anywhere but dead centre).
i know blade could join as well but would it take the competition aspect out of it? he's kind of calibrated to never miss right?? it's not a game anymore. it's just superior blade and pissed off dante and garu cheering (he's just happy to be there) and edmond trying to be civil about letting everyone participate
they are out in the garden. touching grass: yaku is gardening. blade is collecting bugs. garu is digging holes. kuya is bewitching plants at random to spew sex pollen into someone's face (i feel like this is his superpower in SEVERAL fics and i am not complaining). quincy is trying to nap
.but .
he chose the worst place to do it. in the middle of nature's playground (aster's garden)?
garu's kicking up dust into his face. blade is shoving random insects into his face and asking identification questions. yaku screams when he inevitably falls to the kuya traps. kuya can't resist watching the little ones (yakugaru) play with dirt. WHY would you choose to sleep here.
(Topper is nibbling all the edible plants in the garden while skillfully avoiding all the porn plot traps with his superior Toppinstincts)
now for 3 ! single character HCs.......
kuya: wanders the marketplace, and often sees those anti-aging creams with LOFTY claims to their power... he always mocks them and insults the intelligence of all the vain people clamouring to buy the stock. later that day you will see kuya at home, trying those very same creams (procured illegally, of course, because why pay for anything ever) and pretending like he's zero percent interested in the results
rei: in the same situation will just as quickly mock the creams but unlike kuya he'll mean it and will NOT be caught applying the gloop all over his face later. "lmao it's just sunscreen who even believes this shit"
yakumo: i like to give him sneczema sometimes. i know it's implied that everyone in gay gacha has perfect skin forever *waves hand dismissively* BUT
imagine that he loves working with his hands but the sneczema can flare up if he's too rough on em, so he compromises by wearing his gloves. protect that vulnerable skin, yaku!! [insert pun about scaly skin]
His SR clothing material seems soft. Aesthetic reason: slippery smooth like the idea of snek. Practical reason: coarse textures can aggravate skin 😔 only the silkiest coverings for a scaly boy...
i mean. yaku prefers the wet cave environment so we gotta keep an eye on his humidity. too dry and he'l'l turn into a wafer (like in Solaria that One Time)
is this just an excuse for me to mist him with a spray bottle ? at random times because it just seems like fun? perhaps. spritzspritz
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ozzgin · 3 months
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The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!
Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!
If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:
Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader
AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.
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The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.
Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"
A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.
Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."
He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.
As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.
One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.
"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.
"I know."
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capslocked · 6 months
Text
KINKVEMBER DAY: 1
[prompt: against a wall window]
male reader x huh yunjin
5k words
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You're not entirely sure where the jacket to your suit has gone.
You know you should know; it’s a rental and you need to return it in a week. But Yunjin told you to take it off, and since then, things have been... a little hazy.
More concerning - or it would be, had Yunjin not also lost some part of her attire - is what her thumbs are hooked into. Like she's peeling out the silhouette to her skin-tight, backless dress - the way she can't keep from leaning against the elevator wall. Your lips have the taste of her red lipstick all over, and her body melts with every little flick of the tip of her tongue against yours, puddles that much further when she feels your fingers curling into the folds of that skin-tight black material.
The motion to push the fabric up and over the rise of her hips is a purposeful kind of thing.
For the past hour, her skirt kept brushing over the fabric of your pants while you went from shaking hands to kissing hands to her placing yours on the hem of her dress, in the quiet space of a balcony the hotel staff had clearly marked as off-limits. A kiss behind the shell of her ear, a suggestion, a shiver.
Now, things are happening in a sort of reverse: from slow and curious, to needing more and wanting less, and suddenly, neither of you want to wait - until her thighs are spread wide apart, with your free hand slid over her smooth thigh, fingers skirting the edges of her lace, cupped over her heat - right, there. The throbbing.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me," is what she's asking.
"Something awful," you reply, but there's only a gasp out of her throat to prove your point. No words.
Just the look: desire clouding over the expression. The not-so-subtle display of want, need. Tongue pressing to lips and tugging along the corner. A moan, two, quieted behind the knuckle she can't quite help putting in her mouth.
You consider shoving her panties down the curve of her thighs and spinning her around - leaving her arms to brace the railing and keeping the dress around her waist while you fuck. Quick, rough.
The mental image is too nice to let it go.
You consider how much she might genuinely prefer to that to whatever she'd had in mind when she suggested you really ought see the view of the city from her room - oh, the skyline, it's gorgeous, she offered, lips tugged into a perfectly practiced little quirk that said: the view of me, on all fours, face down into a mattress as my ass swallows down your cock - I can't wait to have you.
You can feel the thought concrete itself to the base of your skull when you roll the flat of your finger over her clit and start sliding up and down between the lips of her pussy - finding her a little wet already, dripping onto the fabric in the most obvious way. When the elevator stops a few floors shy, you try to play it off by squeezing at her rib cage and tugging the fabric back in place, hiding the tell-tale lines between the fabric, just as Yunjin starts that gentle laugh from the very base of her spine. A real beautiful timbre in its sound.
But things get more muddled, admittedly, when the doors ding and the group on the other side piles through.
There's an exchange of glances, where they're asking if this is allowed, is there enough room, can they make room. One of them, in a dizzyingly plunging, strapless blue number that has you pressing your palm into the small of Yunjin's back just a little more than you have been up to that point, considers, carefully.
"Yunjin," she says, fingers brushing through the fringe of a smart-chic bob, prim cut of jet-black hair.
Yunjin shifts her weight onto the other heel. "Chaewon."
"By the looks of it," she says, and the way she looks you over has all the judgmental verve of an older sister, a real cold stare. "You've got a I'll-be-staying-in-tonight kind of vibe."
A deeper laugh now, rolling out across the backs of her teeth. "If it's all the same to you," is what you hear from her, "it'll be an early night for me."
“Don’t make it a habit,” she tells Yunjin.
“We’re just going to go enjoy the view.”
“Yeah.” Chaewon gives you one final, disapproving expression. “I bet he will.”
The elevator isn't totally silent, not for the subtle hum and whir of machinery. But everything is a lot closer now. Especially your thoughts, the way Yunjin pulls herself closer against you by a hand on the back of your dress shirt - her fingernails mapping the ridge of your spine, finding your hip bone, thumb curving back and forth against the curve of it.
The four girls at the corner are just making chatter in their corner of the lift. They've got a reservation - in name, anyway. If things were as simple as getting from the hotel to the elevator and beyond, no need for the next forty floors to pass at a snail's pace.
In fact, the four have this sort of tense, concentrated way to them that suggests otherwise - like maybe they came all this way and made that sort of promise to have the whole night end the way some things ought: alone.
"Don't stop on account of us," one of them says after a while.
Which is enough to set off this glare into the furl of Yunjin’s brows. Not her friend's intention. But they laugh it off.
When the doors scuttle open, finally, the two of you stumble out, feet not catching up to the rest of you before Yunjin has her fingers around your wrist and drags you out. Her heels - red-bottomed and not entirely flat but definitely a lot less heel-ey than others (she’s tall, she says, it makes her self-conscious), are clacking quick across marble tile until she arrives at the door of her room, pulls her keycard out of her clutch and leans shoulder-first into the door after the click and whir of entry.
She takes a step backward.
The door locks at your back when it's kicked into its frame.
The first thing you notice is her dress: pooled on the floor around the arches of her heels, cast off like a cloak or some overcoat - to be tossed aside once the sun goes down.
"Make a habit out of this, huh?" you ask in an effort to keep yourself busy - gawking's never been a good look on anyone, even with your natural gifts, the glint in your smile, all your charm - but the curves of her body are stunning, curves that start where her thighs begin, wrap around her hips, cut in at her waist, bloom from the perfectly-small-breasts that now are showing their dusky pink nipples, firm and on full display.
All of Yunjin, like this, beneath pale moonlight pouring diffuse through the fish-bowl-glass of her hotel room, is nothing short of an invitation.
A good look, is what you're about to say if you don't come up with anything else.
"You do this kind of thing often?"
"What's that," Yunjin says over the sharp line of a grin.
"What I mean to say is: I hadn't pegged you for the," and you gesture, rather elegantly, with the flop of your wrist, "lure-some-poor-sap-away-from-a-party-and-take-advantage kind of type," before managing something like a genuine laugh. "Not to knock that lifestyle or anything."
"There's not a thing in the world you know about me," is what she offers. Which is, unsurprisingly, totally true, and slightly unfair.
Yunjin is walking toward you while you consider it.
Drifting when she comes around. It's that close. You can smell the warmth of her skin, a whiff of that vanilla, an infuriating softness - the room is dark, but the moon is bright and the city is glowing, reflecting its light and the various hues from neon signs below, outside, until Yunjin stops, standing right in front of you, just, waiting.
Then, the steady rise of an eyebrow that, for a second, feels like a challenge.
“So," you kiss into her lips, and that's the first. "Let me know you."
The second is when her hands slip up and over the back of your neck and you can't keep from reaching for her sides, pulling her closer. Her hips and ass and those fucking gorgeous, full, legs that can't decide which direction to take - until she's pressed, warm, soft, and perfect against your body, and she's sighing this sigh, heavy, a moan.
The third time, she's licking into your mouth, tongue rolling in and around the taste of your own.
"Too many clothes," she murmurs, and you can feel the pull at your half-undone bowtie, the collar to your dress shirt. She's working the buttons off their slots with deft, clever fingers.
"That's what happens when I'm trying to look sharp."
"Sharp, and hot."
"Is it working?"
Her eyes are as dark as the hair framing the smile that plays at the edge of her mouth. "I'm taking your clothes off, aren't I?"
"Mm," you reply, a smirk of your own. Pressed right into her jaw, her neck, the column of her throat, where she tastes sweet and salty. Like the sea and the night. Before you can even ask, with your fingers teasing the elastic of her underwear, I'm guessing you want me to do the same.
Yunjin makes a sound like, mm-hm.
The hotel room is quite standard, which is to say, nice. But, for what it is, it's not too fancy. There's a large, king-size bed with the crispest sheets you've ever felt. A little kitchenette. Some counter space and a fridge. A TV hanging opposite the bed, with an armchair and a love-seat positioned to face the screen.
"Do you want me to tell you what to do?" Yunjin asks, and her voice is low. Almost a husk, a whisper.
"What did you have in mind?" you say to her, and there's a hand on the nape of your neck, a fist of soft, slender fingers wrapping the length of your cock.
"You're going to fuck me until I'm cumming on your cock. You'll get me on my knees, first, though."
"That's the plan?"
"Unless you have another." Yunjin grins, a smile so full and bright and genuine. You don't know anything beyond her name and the perfectly sculpted curve of her ass. She could be anyone, an actress, a singer, a model. A girl-next-door. A friend of a friend.
She could be yours.
And in a way, when she's on her knees, her mouth hot and tight around the shape of your cock, those fucking lips pressed into the base of it, sliding easy with the spit she leaves on your shaft, that's exactly what you tell her.
"Yunjin," is all you're saying, a sigh, a hiss. You're helping her get your pants off the ends of your feet while your cock is lathered and bathed in her spit, feeling her slender fingers pull up and down your shaft. "That feels so fucking good, baby. Just like that." It's fast, sloppy, she's taking you in and out of her hot mouth like it's the most natural thing in the world. A slurp, a cough, and she's completely unfettered, sucking down and swallowing another breath - not to mention all that about her tongue. A swirl over the head of your cock and you show how much you like it, letting her read the bite into your lip, inventorying every little wince through your brow.
But see - you have your fingers in her hair, holding the strands away from her face. Away from where Yunjin's eyes are breathtaking and glittering, blinking back up under upturned brows, looking up at you from where she's taking you into the hot wet of her mouth, inch-by-inch. And the part of you, this cruel, twisting sensation, would hate for her to think anything of your hands - how they're at the top of her head, cradled behind, and easing her forward, the head of your cock teasing the roof of her mouth.
The back of her mouth.
The back of her throat.
Fuck, her eyes go wide. She's good. She takes it.
And just from the pretty look she keeps on her face, Yunjin loves it. Loves to be pushed, loves to have her hands running along the ridge of your thigh until her fingers are prying the very bottom, the underside, your balls. Like this, with her kneeling down between your legs, the flexing muscle of her upper arms to her palms squeezed tight on either cheek of your ass, where the heat starts to stir deep - to pull. Bring the full length of you to the back of her throat.
The choked sound from deep in her chest should surprise you.
And for the shortest moment, you're holding still and forcing her head, your hands keeping her perfectly put: just there, right there. Exactly like that - where she could look like the perfect mess and feel a twitch right between those lips that keep asking so kindly, go ahead, fuck a load of cum down my throat, baby, use these lips - the soft swell of these lips until you're cumming for me.
Or something else along those lines.
The thought of it crosses your mind: cum spilling from the corner of her mouth as she tries to take everything you have. The flutter in her throat wringing it all down. The mess that all would make. Not that she isn’t already a perfect sight.
You tug on her hair again.
Yunjin's eyes sparkle.
Her eyelashes go a little droopy, hazy. Dark.
And she starts humming across this wistful note of a sigh as her lips start slipping over your shaft - dragging in that slow, agonizing, blissful way over everywhere sensitive and aching. Taking her time, while one hand goes up and strokes what her mouth can't touch, while you pull her head, those perfect strands, just a touch further down, because if she can't quite deep-throat you then Yunjin can give a goddamn masterful impression.
Her cheeks hollow, and the suction - god.
You could cum right in between the pretty little pout of her lips, over the flat of her tongue. Right down her throat.
But in a turn of events neither of you anticipate, you don't do it; you are, much like anyone else, not without limits. Which is probably how you end up lifting Yunjin back up by the underside of her elbows, asking, "that feels a little one-sided, no?"
It's only fair to pull a smirk, kiss, all the best tricks - all for the best parts of her, full, curving, down from her neck, shoulders, her arms, the palms of her hands, every part of her: that perfect shade of peach, pink. From there, everything else falls away. The slow way Yunjin sneaks away with the kind of saunter you'd expect, hips swaying all the way up, sashaying out this inviting side-to-side before you realize it's working -
And you're asking, "Yunjin?" then telling, "I want you up against that window."
The sun's long set - but it'll come up soon enough, over the edges of skyscraper-blocks and shining up out from the base, until everything is bright and gleaming.
"Which window?" she teases.
So you swat at her ass. A not-so-delicate slap. "I don't care so long as I fuck you into it."
"And if someone sees?" she laughs out, still intent on teasing you, and the small edge in her voice is some combination of excitement and worry.
"Then we better give them something worth seeing."
Yunjin's palms land flush to the glass, fingers spread out - wide, wanting, willing - where the blue, yellow glow of city lights shines in over the curves of her profile, the slope of her cheek, the bright pools her irises turn under the warmth. She's the only thing worth seeing, and there's nothing that could possibly stop you from needing, wanting more, right now.
There's no other explanation. No other reason, really, to explain how you're desperate: to fill her, bury yourself inside her - to where you're promising, coming up behind her and guiding her over - so you can spread those creamy thighs apart, push her shoulders up against the cold surface of the window. Where she'll catch a view of her reflection staring back at her: beautiful, exposed, and hers.
"I'm going to fuck you now," is exactly what she's been begging you to say, is why she ends up feeling, with the deep, twisting need building somewhere, how you'll work your cock so deep into her wanting cunt that the only thing that makes her legs go weak - wobbling, really - is the promise of cock rubbing so close and teasing the slick folds between her legs. Until she's a little more demanding, needy - and fuck, where is all the foreplay you'd promised earlier? That perfect, thick cock of yours is missing. She knows what all this really needs.
"Yeah? You need me here?" and she gets this whine, a little pathetic, but in the cutest way.
Yunjin turns her eyes to you, over her shoulder, just the faintest bit of a sneer. 
Because she needs it, right now - rough, quick, good. 
A gasp catches in her throat when you drag your cockhead through her wet heat, once, twice, and the slide of it against her clit becomes the only thing that matters in the entire goddamn world. 
"Inside," her teeth are clamping hard on her lip now, holding it from trembling as she tries to put words together, "Put," is where she loses focus and you're sucking, and kissing, and biting at her shoulder, "put, fuck. Please, put your, put - that cock of yours in my-" You slip into her hot-soaking-wet cunt, and after you've clenched a fist and brought a palm to the center of the window, so that you could open up your body around her a little easier, her muscles squeeze and grip and milk the first few strokes so tight. So-fucking-good.
There's not even a word for it, how she fit like a glove around the first thrust, but if the expression on your face says anything, it's everything Yunjin wanted and more: the shape, the angle, how you're pressing your fingers so hard into the impossible geometry of her waist, the round of her ass - oh, she’ll be a mess of red marks, shapes and lines, reminders of how good you fucked her - these long deep strokes in and out of her creaming pussy - evidence left where the heat inside her builds and pools.
And god, Yunjin is so, so easy to fuck: you can pound into her as rough and steady and fast as she'd begged - there with your other hand, pulling hard, hard, at the loose, dark locks of her hair. Where it has Yunjin gasping, moaning, the whole nine. She has to look to find her balance - and meets the two silhouettes framed inside the reflection on the window. Two shapes, lost in the blurred shadow and outline of lights outside the hotel window, behind which the whole city and its crowds might have stopped the way they'd started, with the rest of you caught between these strange moments:
First, the mindfulness. The purpose and meaning in movement, sensation. In being alive and young, hot, gorgeous and dumb as you can afford to be be.
Yunjin's murmuring, "right there, I want you," or telling, or begging, "don't, you have no idea, I, no-" until your body presses flush up against hers, hips rocking into her perfect figure - taking you like she was built for it, and everything feels so much tighter now, so much closer. Her palms and cheek against the glass, her knees are all shaking and ready to fold at any moment. "So deep, fuck. Fuck me right there, just like that."
Then as you suppose, the unbridled lust on display: Yunjin's turned to this kind of abandon - she's swearing out loud, saying things that have no name and very little form until you've dragged the roughness of your fingers all over her body and found she needs a palmprint on her inner thighs, her ass. That she's whimpering with every deeper plunge until, finally, she gets what she's after - and the words are falling out of her mouth. All it does is mean nothing now - whatever you've been waiting to hear, the pleas to fuck her harder, the cocksleeve talk, or any other request or order.
It's a small miracle, really, considering how she'd gotten you throbbing and aching with just the press of her lips and the dangerous little curl of her tongue - the tight heat all in the back of her throat - but Yunjin cums first.
Loudly. 
Messily, too, as she rides out the feeling - tightness gathering right into her core. But her head, it's in the clouds and a little far away, the skyline bathing her skin in shades of glittering silver and gold. And god, the heat of her tight, twitching, soaked pussy - pulsing around the thrusting curve of your cock: the sublime kind of place, spot, rhythm.
How her arms give out and she's pressed, flushed, back to chest with you, right there. Her words are soft. Wholly unimaginative: yes and fuck, yes and oh, she wants you, loves how well you fuck. The murmur comes from that gorgeous body of hers, the exact shape of everything that feels good to feel. The jut of her hips and her legs are longer than her height suggests they'd be, flawless from the ankle and foot to her thigh to where your arm wraps around the base of her ribs, hugging her from the back.
It's a perfect fit.
And not in the glass-slipper kind of way that means there is such a thing as a soulmate, no.
"Cum in me," she breathes, and then - all over. That's it. The moment your fingers are splayed back out over the pane of window, she can't hold her gaze steady. Those tears prick up at the corner, where they get caught. Where her voice is too high and pitchy - begging, a whining noise and some syllable. Something inaudible that has pressing these hot, open-mouthed kisses right into the pretty rise-and-falls of her spine. The sloppy-wet sound from your cock slipping back in, and back again, until you're just left fucking these little ragged breathes out of her chest.
The space between her lips and the glass, the white-ghosting breaths of air out between those plump little pouts that have shaped and molded themselves into some version of words, a few half-finished pleads: “kiss, hold, fill, fuck, just," and, "my body, love-
"Your fucking pussy, Yunjin, holy shit, it's - fucking - so, god," you all but growl out.
Pounding into the tight clench of her cunt.
The bed in the other room might be the better choice, the sheets and pillows for more support than the hard wall she's propped against. But the glass, to see the view and take her up against it: it feels nice, cool and comfortable, even when your motion makes it fogged and sticky with condensation. She had, when your first thrust pushed inside the molten heat of her pussy, reached around the corner - fingertips splaying wide apart, up, along the foggy pane, watching the shadow of her palms turn blurry and indistinguishable against the soft glow of neon beyond.
"I'm cumming," you tell her, "I'm cumming - fuck," before shoving her body even further into the glass. Fucking her hard - just short of bending her to the point of where she might break.
That last stroke or two goes a little wild; all that coiled and pressurized want and need, boiling over the moment you fuck your cum deep into her trembling body. This time, your sounds aren't just the thoughtless hum and groan from the depth of your lungs, but some collection of dirty words, grunts. Nasty things. A whole host of obscenities: like how it's for the sake of claiming, leaving something of yourself behind. How you're pulling the smooth, curve of her hips into your body to push as much of yourself inside the gripping warmth of her. How your hot cum is starting to spill from her pink, perfect, hole - all for the better because when you take your thumb and swirl and trace and smear all along her slippery-wet slick, she gets like this: squirming in these lazy, needy little wriggles against your touch.
It takes the two of you sometime longer to move. Not long, but, you know, a little while.
When it is that Yunjin comes back to herself, you feel the smile as the ghost over your arm.
The kind of thing to ask, though you're too fucked to pay attention, are questions about life: where do you go to school, how long will you stay? All of that. There's a quiet moment where your mind plays back, vaguely, a little more intensely, the realization - and regret of it, the waste - of fucking a stranger for a night.
And in a real short moment:
"That was - really good," she says, still not recovered quite enough to walk.
Yunjin sounds all that same: a stranger. Not familiar. That's, like, your last chance or whatever. Before this becomes a one-off.
("Stay for a while?" is what she doesn't manage to ever ask.)
"Have to leave early tomorrow." And she looks at you, shoulders dipping at the ends. She says things like: "my work," and "we have an international flight. Customs is a bitch."
"Oh," is what you say to all that, looking her body over again, drinking down all the small details of her. The ones you'll lose forever after tonight. All of them, you know.
All because that's how it had to be, from the start.
"For sure."
Yunjin's hands are twisting at the end of her hair, stroking and brushing through the silky, black strands. Just for something to do: maybe, optimistically to keep herself occupied with some semblance of a thought that has nothing at all to do with how she can't seem to shake this sudden, cresting wave of frustration - how there's an urgent throb from deep within, pushing into her skin like a force.
You swallow. Try to smile. "It was fun."
-
The hotel's checkout desk is staffed by a cheerful looking man, almost fresh out of high-school. Too cheerful a smile, perhaps, and maybe a little too bright for the time of day. You'd been busy pacing the lobby, trying not to stare at your phone for the third or fourth time since stepping out of the elevator. Your feet have scuffed the ground under the coffee table, around the floral couches - almost tripping over the boutiques lined in the middle of this path. Likely you'd have considered them if you weren't focused elsewhere.
Thinking about how you'd put off any discussion about piecing back together your rental suit.
"Did you have a good stay, sir?" the concierge asks, reaching out across his desk to pick up a card. He's placing a machine in front of him.
Your face warms ever-so-slightly. "Wonderful."
"That's what we like to hear. Just swipe your key here."
The machine's screen flashes and there's another cheerful beep, indicating everything was processed.
"Could you get me my receipt?"
"Absolutely. One second."
And the printer whirs to life: spitting out line-after-line of printed data. Until there are twelve characters of nonsense and garbage, including but not limited to the link to a questionnaire and an explanation for all the boxes marked 'x'. It also indicates your total costs (minimal, really) and lists a detailed breakdown of services: breakfast, in-room bar, laundry, towels - all the necessities.
"There, would you like- wait. Sir? Someone asked me to hand this to you," and after reaching under the desk, "looks like a suit jacket of sorts."
"Oh."
He raises an eyebrow. "From the event, I'm assuming."
It's hard to tell what it's about. But as you wrap your fingers into the cloth of the fabric, tug at it a bit, there's a note that slips and falls to the floor.
You sort of frown, skeptical. Fumble with the note. And the note says this:
In your absence, I helped myself to your jacket, your wallet, an extra serving of breakfast, as well as a large iced-coffee. Promise you I'll get the next one. Call me: (xxx)-xxx-xxxx.
Affectionately, your (girl)friend for an evening,
Huh Yunjin
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rogueddie · 3 months
Text
Stitched Together T | 698 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is sitting in comfortable silence together doing their own thing
"Do you still have my vest?"
"Hello to you too?" Steve says, raising his eyebrows when Eddie takes that as his cue to push past Steve, into his house.
He quickly kicks the door behind him, curling an arm around Steve's waist to reel him into a quick kiss. "Hello! My old vest- you got it?"
"I do- I haven't been able to get the blood out yet."
"Oh, I don't want it," Eddie waves him off, already halfway up the stairs. "Come on, I need to see it!"
"What- Eddie!"
Steve hurries up the stairs after Eddie, who takes them two steps at a time. He hovers at Steve's bedroom door though, rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting.
It's then that Steve noticed the plastic bag that he's holding.
"You gonna explain?"
"In a minute! I need to see my old vest first."
"It's in my closet," Steve explains, leading him into his room and pointing.
Eddie immediately jumps over to the closet, glancing back at Steve before he opens it to make sure it's ok for him to dig through it.
It doesn't take him long to find the vest, face splitting into a grin as he pulls it out.
"Perfect."
"So... what's going on?"
"I'm gonna make a new one. Wanted to remind myself how this bad boy is layed out first."
"Oh?"
"I'll only need it for, like, a few hours. I can get it back to you by the end of the day."
"What? Wh- you brought your stuff here."
"Yeah, I'm gonna stitch it together in the van. I was thinking about going out to the quarry."
"You could- I mean, if you want to, you could just... do it here? If you want to. I'm just gonna be baking today anyway."
"Hell yeah. Any excuse to spend more time with you is a great idea in my book."
Eddie follows him downstairs, setting up on the sofa in the living room, while Steve continues past him into the kitchen.
Steve pokes his head back in after a minute.
"You didn't want to talk, did you?"
"I know how you get when you bake," Eddie reminds him. "I'm ok here. If I need anything, I know where everything is."
"You could ask-"
"No, I couldn't. It's ok, babe. Really. It's nice to just... know you're here."
"Oh. Really?"
"Really."
Steve goes back into the kitchen, but it's not long before he's washed the side, the bowls and utensils he used. All he needs to do is wait for his food to bake.
He wanders back into the living room, sitting on one of the arm chairs.
Eddie barely glances up, focused on his task.
He doesn't seem bothered that Steve is staring, so he just... watches.
It's surprisingly nice. Comforting.
He can see how much care Eddie is putting into each patch, taking his time when pinning them in place and being careful with each stitch.
By the time the kitchen timer goes off, Eddie has only managed to stitch two patches on and started on the backpatch.
He follows Steve into the kitchen once he's done putting his things away, just in time for him to start plating.
"Looks delicious."
"Mhmm," Steve grins. He pulls Eddie closer with a hand on his hip as soon as he's within reach. "You?"
"Got two done in the time it usually takes me to stitch on one, so, I consider it a win."
"Good."
He tries to lean in, pepper Eddie's neck with kisses until he caves the way he always does, easily following Steve up to-
"We should do this more often," Eddie continues. "Hanging out like this. It's... nice. It really is."
"Yeah," Steve agrees, reluctantly pulling back. He can't bite back his sappy smile though. "You're gorgeous when you get into your passions."
"Careful, Harrington. Keep talking like that and people might start thinking you're in love with me."
"Mmm, I don't know, they might be into something."
His attempt to kiss Eddie is ruined by how much they're both laughing.
Steve is pretty sure it's one of the best days that he's ever been fortunate enough to live.
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norrussell · 7 months
Text
Dinner Reservation | Lando Norris⁴
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Pairings: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader
Summary: you had plans to go out, Lando had other. Watch what happens when you tell him no
Warnings: barely any plot just smut, light dom Lando, kinda bratty both Lando and the reader, and assholes too (idk what came over me, I thought I was being funny) some cringe bits for the sake of the 'plot' but we move, kinda long that's why I included word count, hint of exhibitionism, unprotected sex
Word count: 5389
A/N: Okay, I really need to learn how to write summaries, if anyone wants to be my editor you can hit me up. Perks are you get to see the original copy before I rewrite it for tumblr
Credits to @twinkodium for prompting this idea and brainstorming it with me ♥
You stepped out of the shower with nothing, but a towel wrapped around your body. Not bringing any clothes with you, you proceeded out of the bathroom to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. He was sprawled out on the bed, obviously dissatisfied about something–still in his hoodie and black sweats–but the moment you opened the door, his whole demeanor changed, his hungry eyes following you as you strolled across the room to your still unpacked suitcase. Bending down to get your underwear, you felt two arms wrap around your waist, stopping you mid motion.
You smirked, popping your behind and pressing it harder against his pelvis as you fished a pair of panties from the case. He lowly grunted, removing your hair from one shoulder to another, which gave him a clean access for planting a kiss on your neck.
"Plans canceled, why don't you get on the bed for me, gorgeous?" he murmured against your skin.
You tried to sustain your smile, finding the whole situation amusing. Getting a hold of yourself, you turned around to face him.
"We can't cancel plans just because you suddenly got horny." you playfully rolled your eyes. "They're waiting for us."
The plan was to go out and grab dinner with Oscar and Lily. Something like a double date and get together outside business hours.
"They can wait." he still had that stupid grin on his face, brushing his fingertips over the side of yours, his eyes roaming all over your features.
"No, they can't. You're acting like a spoiled child, you know that?" you teased, giving him a playful shove. "Now go get ready, we're already late as it is. They're probably wondering where we are." you urged and knowing there was no point further arguing with you, he scoffed and walked over to the dresser.
"You're acting like we don't spend three weekends a month with them," he protested, buttoning his shirt only a halfway up. "But fine. If you won't listen to me now, I'll bend you over that goddamn dinner table and fuck you in front of everyone. Maybe that will be more appealing to you-"
"Don't be ridiculous." you snorted a laugh.
"Say I won't do it." he stood tall and incredibly close in front of you, his eyes boring into yours making you feel smaller than you were. And you could swear, you didn't know if your wetness was from the shower or somethin else entirely different.
"Please, dress up, sweetheart." he finished, his voice somewhat mocking, leaving you to clutch your panties to your chest standing in the middle of the room.
This whole ordeal may or may have not resulted in you changing the outfit you had in mind from the top. Instead of an orange sundress, you slipped into a white linen bodycon dress that perfectly hugged your curves, cut out sides exposing your toned waist and highlighting your hip bones. Deep v neck brought exposure to your cleavage as well.
Studying yourself in the mirror, the material was so thin it was almost see through. Lando absolutely hated loved this dress. You completed the look with some white sandals. You were in the process of putting on your gold earrings when Lando walked in.
"Are you anywhere near do-" he choked out, eyes turning a darker shade of green as they scanned you from head to toe. He cleared his throat before speaking "You look amazing, darling." he complimented, with a little bitter taste to the pet name he just called you, obviously not approving of the attire. Jackpot.
"Thank you, darling." you grinned as you walked up to him and pecked his cheek, completely ignoring the fact he was fuming.
"Are you ready to go?"
"Lead the way." you responded, your lips still curved into a smile, and laced your hands together.
On the drive to the restaurant, his knuckles turned completely white from how strong his grip on the steering wheel was. His eyes never darted from the road, not even once. No hand holding nor even one kiss at the red light. But instead, you drove in silence, only soft music playing from the radio making any noise as you tried to hide your satisfaction, which you will probably come to regret later, looking out the window.
As expected, Oscar and Lily arrived before you. You apologized for keeping them waiting, but they said they only just got there a few minutes ago due to traffic. A waiter immediately approached you and had your orders right under way in a few moments.
During dinner, Lando wasn't completely ignoring you, but he wasn't really paying attention or engaging with you either. Which didn't come off as strange or like something was wrong between you. You girls had your girl talk and boys had their boy talk. Lily couldn't always attend a race weekend and it's been a while since you last saw her. But there was a mischievous spark in his eyes, only someone who had known him for years could notice, telling you he was planning something.
First, he'd casually drop his hand on your thigh under the table and just rest it there, and then remove it without a second thought, continuing his conversation with Oscar like nothing happened. After a while, he'd put it back on, only higher this time and gently grasp the skin, his thumb drawing circles. Your muscles tensed and made you jump in your seat. He noticed, of course, without sparing you a second glance and dragged his palm up and down your inner thigh like that was going to soothe you. He stopped and left you alone once more when your main course arrived.
While waiting for dessert, his fingers brushed the fabric of your panties without previous warning that made you gasp audibly and place your elbows on the table to support your forehead with your hands, making all cutlery clank. That finally drove some confused looks from Oscar and Lily.
"Are you alright?" Lily asked, curiosity getting the best of her cause this wasn't the first time you jumped in your seat during the conversation.
"I'm fine." you breathed, faking a smile. You turned towards Lando and hissed, covering your mouth "What are you doing?"
He leaned closer into your side, his lips brushing your earlobe as he whispered "I'm thinking about having my dessert now." his fingers still feathered over you. You gave him a wide eyed look. "Say I won't do it." he repeated his words from earlier that instantly made you blush.
"You... you're crazy." you whispered back, glancing sideways at the confused faces around you, most likely thinking you were talking about the weather. God, you hoped they were thinking you were talking about the weather.
"Say it." he insisted, his palm coming to a stop on your pussy.
You bit your lip, getting a clear image of him bending you over the table while Lily, Oscar and the waiter looked on as Lando fucked you right in front of them. It made you wet and you hated yourself for it.
"I... I'm saying it." you mumbled.
"What?" he took a sip of his drink.
"I'm saying it." you leaned closer as the people around you were now completely involved in their own conversations, acting like they didn't hear you the first time. "I'm saying you won't do it." maybe one thing Lando often forgets is how stubbornly bratty you can get.
Lando started, but was interrupted by the waiter coming to pick up your dessert orders. He only quickly added that you will settle this later. The Great Dessert Debate concluded after you were done with your meals. Lily was lobbying for ice cream, Oscar insisting on sorbet, Lando not really giving a damn as long as he wasn't going to have cake and you, of course, wanted something naughty. Oscar finally convinced Lily that sorbet would taste better than ice cream and they decided to get it to-go to bring home. You sighed and ordered cheesecake eventually.
"I changed my mind." Lando started. "I won't be having any dessert here." he smirked and glanced at you.
Idle as he was, he didn't waste an opportunity to dip his hand between your thighs once more and stroke you up and down as soon as you dipped your spoon in your cheesecake. You could've made a scene, but how you were practically purring in your seat, you decided not to.
"Don't move and finish your little treat," he murmured and brought his lips to your cheek and kissed it. "I'm sure sugar will give you enough energy for what's about to come later." you could almost choke as you swallowed.
He squeezed your thigh again under the table, giving you a once over and letting his eyes settle on your mouth. You knew what he was trying to do. He was attempting to turn you on in public while everyone else was almost done with their desserts and it worked, damn it. He didn't stop touching you until dessert was over and the bill was paid, but this time he slid his palm all the way up to your slit and stroked you through the fabric while you were busy–struggling–saying goodbye to Lily and Oscar.
You almost didn't want to get in the car with him, but to drag him to the nearest restroom and have him there. You were just on the verge of exploding, burning and dying a death of a thousand orgasms that needed to be let out, and let out now.
He put the car in drive, with you sitting right next to him, still wet and hard and throbbing. You didn't bother to keep your voice low this time. You huffed and fumed, wanting nothing more than to choke his pretty little neck.
"What is wrong with you?" you hissed.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking at you out of the corner of his eye to avoid a car accident with a grin on his face. He really is fucking crazy, you thought.
"You're so damn frustrating. Why haven't you touched me yet?"
"I'm touching you now." he smirked.
"You asshole! You're not touching me-Ah!" you yelped as he dug his thumb into your wetness and began rubbing you, his left hand steadily steering. You spread your legs as far as the car allowed and pulled your knee up, giving him as much access as you could.
"Oh god..." you relaxed and succumbed to your pleasure, making his thumb work at its full potential.
His other fingers were busy playing with your pussy, tracing the fabric to your entrance, but never actually going inside. You were breathing heavily as his fingers grazed closer to your clit each time he would repeat his movements. His thumb found your clit and started massaging it while his pointer and middle finger pulled your panties to the side and slipped in, parting your walls. You shuddered and moaned, but kept your eyes on the road ahead of you.
The way he was touching you was incredible, you were so wet that you could already feel the heat radiating from your skin. And he was doing all that while driving. One hand on the steering wheel, the other one down your panties.
He looked really hot, you had to admit to yourself, as you bit your lip glancing over at him. His eyes fixed on the road, concentration evident on his face as he drilled into you with his right hand. You wanted to lean over and kiss him.
His fingers curled inside of you, hitting that spot. Pumping in and out, you were getting more and more jerky in the passenger seat, only the seat belt restraining you from bucking your hips forward. It was getting so good, so painfully good when he pulled his fingers out of you.
"Don't do that." you whined, as he noticed your hips jerking and tried to move his hand to make you come.
"What?"
"That," you breathed, "Pull your fingers out of me."
He chuckled and put his palm over your pussy again, stroking you from the top. You started getting wetter and your breaths got faster and louder.
"Lando... Please! Don't." you muttered, knowing that in a matter of minutes you'd achieve sweet release.
He continued nonetheless, his nails scratching your skin every time the pad of his thumb would meet with your clitoris. You groaned and spread your legs wider, moaning Lando's name as you came.
"Seriously?" he chuckled again, stopping at the red light.
"Shut up." you glared at him and puffed your disheveled hair out of your face. He was still smiling. "That was not funny." you hissed, removing his hand from you.
"I agree." he said, undeterred by your actions. He brought the hand that was on your pussy up to his mouth and licked his fingers clean. "Mm, now this is what I call dessert." he moaned, licking his lips and savoring the taste. "And that was your first orgasm of the night, babe."
"You're an asshole." you pouted.
"So you've told me." he drove off, his hand coming back to rub your thigh.
"Lando, I'm serious," you grabbed his fingers and pushed them away. "Stop."
"Babe, you should really learn to finish what you start." he said, his cottage cheese fingers now replaced by the dripping wetness of his mouth. "Did you forget?"
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I'm marrying you for your money."
"And your body." he added, letting his fingers lick your inner thigh.
"You bastard."
"We still have business to run when we get home." he announced, glancing quickly over at you. But your eyes were already half-lidded and there was a pleasant ache between your legs.
"Just drive." you muttered.
"I'm serious." he lightly chuckled, putting his right hand on your leg and rubbing you solidly through your skirt.
"We'll see." you adjusted yourself in the seat. You closed your eyes as you made yourself comfortable, enjoying the rest of the ride home.
Like he knew you needed a bit more rest, he took a longer route home. Pulling into your driveway, you smirked as the lights illuminated your face. You cleared your throat and fixed your skirt before exiting the car and sauntering over to the front of the house without giving a second glance to Lando. You made sure to sway your hips a little extra to grab his attention which worked, considering you were already unlocking the front door when you heard a soft click of his car door, meaning he stayed behind. Your feet were killing you and you only got to kick off one shoe when a pair of strong arms wrapped around you.
"Back where we started," he whispered.
"Something like that." you smiled, your hand grabbing the nape of his neck as you kicked the other shoe off. You stood flat on your bare feet, significantly shorter than him now.
He traced your shoulder with kisses up to your neck, his palms riding up your waist to cup your breasts. A low moan escaped you as he thumbed your nipple. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as your hips began to grind against him.
"I want you." you breathed into his ear.
He was hard against you and you could already feel yourself dripping wet for him. He turned you around, smashing your lips together as he picked you up and carried you to the living room couch. He sat down with you straddling him, your kissing already turned into a heavy make out session, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth and vice versa.
One hand on your hip helping you rock back and forth, the other one on your jaw and throat, choking lightly and keeping your head in place. His hips buckled up as you sped your movements, making him hiss into your mouth and bite harder on your lower lip. You let out a soft cry, but didn't let that stop you.
Now both of his hands roamed the open back of your dress, his face pressed flat in your cleavage until he brought one of his hands and tugged harshly down at the top of your dress, afraid you heard something snap.
"Oh, did I rip it? Did I rip it for good this time?" he got a bit too overly excited for your liking.
"Yeah, I think one of my straps snapped." you breathed, flustered.
"Thank god!" he exclaimed, rubbing his nose in your cleavage. "I've been waiting for this day."
"I didn't realize you were such a fan of this dress." you sarcastically remarked, rolling your eyes, knowing damn well how he felt about it. You glanced down and saw he had torn the top of the dress almost to your belly button.
"Sorry." he grinned.
"No, you're not." you couldn't help but laugh. "You're going to make me buy a new one." you said, trying to push his face back into your cleavage.
"I'll pay for it." he nodded. You shook your head dismissively, deciding to let the subject go.
Coming up to your breasts, he pressed his palms over them before rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You moaned as he did, his breath hot on your skin. He moved his mouth to suck on your left breast, closing his eyes and taking in your scent. You let your hand fall to his waist, pulling at his belt. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, but only for a moment, before his tongue swirled around your right nipple. Your breath hitched when he grazed you with his teeth, your right hand tugging on his curls. He let your nipple pop out of his mouth before dragging his teeth over your skin, the sensation sending electric currents through you.
"I have an idea-"
"Oh no-"
"Can you stand up for me, please, love?" he innocently grinned up at you.
Just out of pure curiosity you listened to him. He turned you around so that your back was facing him.
"You're going to rip the rest off me, aren't you?"
"Guilty." he pulled the remaining strap down. Your hands were on the couch now, bracing yourself and waiting for his next move.
"You're so dirty." you said, unable to resist sounding disappointed.
"And you're so wet." he said, his fingers pressed up against your drenched panties.
"Shut up." you shuddered, his breath warming the back of your neck.
The fire in you was burning now. You felt his hands snake around your neck and his hot breath on your ear.
"Just because I don't like this dress doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you so much." he whispered.
"I love you more." you replied, relaxed.
He leaned in and kissed your back, all the way down your spine, making you shudder at the feeling of his soft lips against your skin. His hands gently grabbed the remaining fabric of the dress on your hips and in one swift motion, tore it off your body.
"Whoops," he said, dropping the shreds that once made up a dress on the floor.
"You tease." you smirked over your shoulder.
"You love it."
You nodded. You felt his hands gently grab your hips as he pushed you forward a bit and stood up behind you. One of his hands spread across your lower back and the other reached down to grasp on your thigh. He pulled you back against him and you could feel his hardness in between your ass cheeks as he kissed your shoulder. You felt his hand wander up your inner thigh and lightly graze your clit. You moaned in approval and he took that as a cue to keep going. He slipped a finger or two inside you and it was almost instant that he was tapping your g-spot.
"Lando." you breathed, fully leaning on him for support.
"Yes, love?" his voice was deep and low.
"I want you." you whined for the second time that evening.
"And you'll have me." he said, without providing much information on when that will be.
He laid you back on the couch, opening your legs to slide his arms in between your thighs. He lifted your butt off the couch and you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, anticipating the moment where he'd have his face between your legs.
He descended on top of you, his lips kissing your neck before moving over to your ear. His teeth grazed your earlobe and you shuddered as he sucked.
"More." you panted, your fingers clawing at his shirt.
He smirked, giving your ear one last lick before moving his attention to your lips. His rough hands maneuvered over your skin, finally gripping your breasts and pinching your nipples. Your hands cupped his face as he roughly bit down on your lower lip, then moving to your jaw and then your neck.
You pulled off his dress shirt as he attacked your neck with his mouth and his teeth. Your eyes fluttered close as his teeth sank into your shoulder. He pulled away, leaving a series of hickeys on your skin. He climbed back on top of you, his hands snaking down to grab your ass. He looked into your eyes, biting down on his lip as he pushed his hardness into your thigh. You wiggled your hips, getting impatient for him to be inside of you.
"So impatient," he remarked. "Can't you see I'm trying to take my time with you?"
"This is torture." you said instead.
"Now, baby," he said, kissing his way down from in between your chest to your stomach. "No need for dramatics."
Positioning his face just above your pussy, he gently removed your panties as he pushed your legs a bit more forward, angling you just the way he wanted you. Without previous warning, he ran his hot tongue all over you. Oh, god, real torture begins now, you thought.
A moan chocked in your throat as your mouth hung agape. It didn't take long for him to start lapping around your folds, suck on your clit and fuck into your entrance with his pointy tongue. You were a squirmy and moany mess, one hand pulling on his hair, the othe one gripping the couch, but he didn't cease. In fact, it only encouraged him to flick his tongue over your sensitivity and keep tasting you up.
Thighs shaking and repeatedly panting his name, your climax arrived sooner that you anticipated. He licked you clean one last time before getting on top of you once more and kissing you, making you taste yourself on his lips. You sank your teeth into his bottom lip as you sucked on it, receiving a moan into your mouth from him. He gave you a few more pecks before pulling you up by your arms into his embrace.
"What do you say we take this to the bedroom?" he questioned.
You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as he carried you like a child in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist.
He dropped you on the bed and fumbled with his pants. That gave you an opportunity to quickly get on your knees and take his belt off and unbutton his pants. He got the hint, taking them down. You rested your head on his thigh, looking up at him–pouting–as you stroked the bulge in his boxers. You probably couldn't count how many times he actually got a boner this evening and had to fight it. His lips parted, shaky breaths escaping him.
"Please..." he begged, fingers raking through your hair.
He didn't have to tell you twice to take his boxers off. After all, you could no longer deny him his pleasure after everything you've put him through this evening. He deserved his little treat. His length sprung forward and you rested it on your tongue. He shuddered, holding your head as you bobbed on him. You started going faster and it wasn't long before you could feel him twitching in your mouth.
You usually didn't do this, but you wanted to tease him as much as you could. When you felt him starting to lose his grip, you stopped and smiled as you looked up at him. Strands of saliva connected your mouth to his cock. He looked at you with a desperate look, his hands holding your head still.
"Why did you stop?" he asked, his voice husky.
"Because you wanted to," you said, beaming.
He shook his head dismissively, returning a smile. You wrapped your lips around his tip again, sucking on him as hard as you could. His head fell back onto his shoulder, his eyes closed in ecstasy. You gripped him in your hands, stroking him as you bobbed your head up and down.
You stopped when it felt like his cock was about to burst. You let go and looked up at him and he caught you before you could say anything. He pulled you up and his lips crashed onto yours. The taste of him was still on your tongue, but you didn't mind. He kissed you tighter, his hands wrapped around your body, his fingers clawing at your lower back.
"Please, stop fucking teasing me." he groaned.
"I'm sorry." I pouted. "I'm so, so sorry."
"Want to show me just how sorry you are? Huh?" he grabbed your jaw, fixing your eyes on him. You nodded in response, this play only turning you on. "I'm going to fuck you right here." he muttered, his voice husky with lust. "Right on this bed, where I have fucked you numerous times before." he took your arms and pinned them to your sides. "Don't. Fight. Me." he warned, making sure not to repeat previous mistakes.
You shook your head and let out a nervous giggle.
"That's my girl." he leaned forward to kiss you again.
You moaned into it, pressing your body against him. His palm rubbed up your leg, parting it wider as he went to your thigh. He held your leg as he slipped it over his shoulder, his fingers brushing faintly over you, your hips bucking against him, urging him to go. He obliged by slipping two fingers. Your back arched up, your head falling back as you groaned.
"So wet for me." he grinned.
"You just don't know what you do to me." you explained, rocking your hips, enjoying the feeling of his fingers filling you up.
"I'll show you what I'm going to do to you." he claimed, gripping your hand and intertwining your fingers. His other hand was working its way further up your thigh and stopping above your knee.
"Do it, Lando." you pleaded.
He hoisted your other leg over his shoulder as well, changing the angle of your body and pushed himself into you. You twisted your head to look at him, your mouth hanging open as you let out a loud cry.
"Oh, fuck me, Lando..." you said breathily.
"Say my name." he rocked his hips faster.
"Lando," you gasped, your thighs beginning to shake.
"Louder." he commanded, squeezing your ass in his hands. "You're louder when you come."
"Lan... Lando!" you moaned, throwing your head back again.
The feeling was so overwhelming that you could feel yourself on the brink of climax. Your thighs started to shake violently and your stomach felt like it was being tickled on the inside. You moaned his name, trying to stifle a scream as you felt the most intense orgasm wash over you. You felt like you were going to pass out. It really had to be the most incredible feeling you ever experienced. You could feel him still hunched over you, filling you up.
"Lay down," he ordered.
"I can't even move," you gasped. "I'm numb."
"Good." he chuckled. "It means you enjoyed yourself."
"What about you?" you asked him.
"I'm covered in you." he kissed you. "That's more than enough."
"I want to make you feel good." you said, trying to catch your breath.
"That's something I'll have to work for." he smirked at you, rolling his cock inside you.
You bit your lip to keep you from moaning as you twisted your hips and dug your nails into his skin. He started kissing and sucking on your neck and your hands fell to his shoulders.
"I think you've had enough fun." he said, nibbling on your ear.
"Too much is never enough." you giggled. "Just stay inside me." you whispered as you put your arms back around his neck.
"I can do that." he smiled before kissing you.
He started thrusting in and out of you slowly, changing the angle again. You moaned into the kiss, your arms tightening around him. You started rocking your hips in sync with his thrusts, filling you up even more. He let go of your arms and cupped your face, still kissing you. You moved your hands to his neck and tangled your fingers into his hair.
"Oh, my god," you moaned into his mouth. "This feels so good."
"Tell me what you feel," he said between kisses.
"I feel full." you said breathily. "Like your cock is stretching me out." this dirty talk made you giggle.
"Tell me how it feels filling you up." he encouraged.
"I feel like I'm ready to burst," you said, shuddering. "I love it."
He pushed into you deeper and his lips found your collar bone.
"Good," he groaned. "I want you to feel good."
"I do." you breathed. "Oh, my god, I do." your eyes rolled back.
"Are you going to come again?" he asked, changing the speed of his thrusts.
"I don't know." you said. "Don't stop." you hugged him closer.
You felt the muscles in your body tightening and you knew you were about to climax again. He pulled back and looked down at you.
"Stay with me." he said, thrusting harder.
"I can't." you moaned.
He lifted you up, changing the position again. He slid out of you slightly then pushed in hard, hitting you in the right spot.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned, arms falling back to your side. "Fuck!" you screamed.
"Good girl," he pulled your face up and kissed you.
You came so hard that your vision went blurry and you felt like passing out again. You could feel him still thrusting into you, trying to keep pace. You bucked against him, your hips constricting as he came inside of you, groaning your name. He put you back down on the bed, his hands still on your body, gently rubbing your skin. You felt like you were on top of the world.
"I love you." you said, turning your head to face him. "So much."
"I love you." he replied, kissing your forehead.
"I'm sorry if I was a bit bratty today." you snuggled closer to him.
"Nah, I deserved it." he played with your fingers on his stomach. "And if I didn't, I know why you do it anyway." he shot you a quick glance.
"Oh, really?" you challenged.
"Uh huh. Don't get me wrong, it's hot and all, but babe, if you want me to fuck you hard all you have to do is ask."
"You're unbelievable." you shoved his shoulder and turned around, getting further away from him as possible. "Let's see the next time I behave like that and you don't get anything." you tucked yourself in with a duvet.
"Babe," he called and rolled his body closer to yours, hugging you from behind. "It was a joke. With some truth in it, but you know-"
You turned around just to hit his chest."
"Asshole."
"Princess."
You snuggled into the crook of his neck as he rested his chin on top of your head, your limbs tangled together.
"Prick."
"Babygirl."
"Wanker."
"If you want round three just say that." even though you both laughed, you still hit him with your fist.
"Fucking idiot."
"Love of my life."
You're not sure when exactly did he stop whispering names of endearment in your ear for you fell asleep in his arms to the sound of his voice with a hint of a smile plastered on your face.
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marvelouslizzie · 5 months
Text
I'm Not Sure If I Can Do This
Summary: You want to try something new and Bucky isn't sure if he can do it.
Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+, established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, edging, no protection, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 1.9K
A/N: I wrote this little filthy story because of my friend Andreea's prompt. I'm glad it turned out to be something decent.
You can also send me requests if you want. I can't guarantee I'll write it but I'll certainly try.
Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing ❤️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
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You thought explaining why you wanted this or even convincing him to do it would be harder, but it was quite the opposite. Bucky Barnes is a guy who loves to give, especially when it comes to pleasure. It’s like he’s thriving on your pleasure while he’s delaying his own. He never made you wait or made you beg for release. Not once. And you really want to be desperate for some reason. And you have no intention to find out why. You just want to experience it. You want him to tease you relentlessly, deny your orgasm, and finally when he allows it, you want it to be explosive.
It’s easy to imagine him doing all those things to you, but the idea of explaining it is just dreadful. That’s why you were so reluctant. You weren’t sure if he would like the idea or maybe he would misunderstand your intention. None of that happened, though. You just said you wanted to try it and as you started to explain why, you noticed how his eyes were shining mischievously. That’s when you realized it was more than okay for him.
And that’s how you ended up all naked and frustrated on your bed. Bucky is a man of his word, so when he said he was going to enjoy this, he was not lying. He has been teasing you for a while now, and all you feel is frustration and of course, that undeniable anticipation. 
“Bucky…” You whine as he’s moving so damn slowly inside you. The touches, the kisses, his damn tongue… It all feels good but not enough to make you come.
“Yes?” 
The way he looks into your eyes makes you melt. You are so close to forgetting that he has been torturing you. He has been denying your orgasm every time you are getting close, yet the look in his eyes… It shows his true feelings.
“What do you want, baby?”
He sounds like he has no idea what you want. You wish you could hate him for this, but you can’t. You’ve been imagining how this would feel like for so long, and he’s just turning your fantasy into reality while enjoying the ride.
“I wanna come.” 
You don’t care if you sound desperate because you are. You are desperate to come. You want that relief you took for granted for so long. All those times he never denied you, all those times he never even paused for a second before giving you all the pleasure in the world.
“Beg for it.”
His response surprises you. You can see the desire in his eyes and how much he’s actually enjoying this, but you never expected that he would be so into it. Maybe he didn’t know it either, but he definitely loves the state you are in. He even seems to enjoy edging himself because while torturing you, he’s torturing himself as well.
“Beg?”
“Yes, baby. Beg. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I-” You can’t deny that, can you? You always imagined it this way, but you never actually begged before. It’s easier when you are just imagining things, but looking at his face and saying those words… It feels incredibly hard.
“If you are not ready to beg yet, you are not ready to come, sweetheart.”
Oh, that’s awfully cruel of him yet so freaking hot. He knows you want to do this so badly, but your pride is standing in the way, and he’s willing to take you to the point where you wouldn’t care about it anymore. Yet your mouth says something else.
“But I am so close…” 
“I know.” He moves in and out of you. His pace is torturously slow, yet it still feels amazing.
Then his fingers move onto your clit, gently rubbing it, and you feel a jolt of electricity all through your body. It’s like a promise. The promise of blinding pleasure, but he stops after a couple of rubs and makes you whine.
“You know what you have to say, don’t you?” You nod in response, tears are beginning to well up. “You can get what you want, any time you want.” You know that, but it’s like your mouth is having a hard time saying those words. “And you know we can stop this any time you want, right?”
He’s trying to remind you of your safe word, but you don’t want to stop. You have no intention of using it.
“Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetically, but it makes him smile. Why is it so hard to say? 
“Please what?” He combines his words with actions. He moves a little bit harder inside you, and it reminds you of what you need. All you need is to ask him, and you know he will give it to you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, bracing yourself to beg.
“Please move harder.” When you open your eyes back up, you see Bucky smirking. It just spurs something inside you. “Please, please…”
“Oh, baby…” He sounds so condescending yet loving at the same time. You have no idea how that’s even possible. “You really need it, don’t you?”
“Yes!” Your answer comes out instantly. Fuck your pride, you need this.
“Then you will get what you want.” You feel relieved but it doesn’t last long. “But I have one condition.” He completely stops while talking. “You won’t come before I say you can, got it?”
“But…”
“I will move faster and harder, like you asked me to, but you gotta hold it.” He sounds like he’s explaining edging to someone who has no idea what it is. “Show me what a good girl you can be, and I will give you what you want.”
Fuck… He’s making it so hard and hot at the same time. You really didn’t think he would take it this seriously. You thought just a please would be enough for him but it’s not. Yet you can’t seem to find it in your heart to regret asking him to do this.
“Can you do that for me?”
“I… I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.”
“I know you can take it, sweetheart. Just show me how good you are.”
He’s a menace. He knows praising you will help and he’s using it damn well. So you find yourself nodding, and that’s when he finally starts to move again. 
His hands are grabbing your waist, while he’s fucking you the way you imagined it. It’s rough, it’s fast, but god damn, it feels amazing. You feel your orgasm is quickly approaching, especially after all that teasing, and you try not to focus on the pleasure. It’s so hard to move against your nature. Your body just wants to give into it and enjoy it to the fullest, but no, that’s not what your mind wants. So you close your eyes to fight it. Maybe that will help.
“No, no, no.” You hear Bucky saying. “You gotta look me in the eyes, baby. No cheating.”
“But that’s not…” He doesn’t let you finish. 
“But it is.” 
“Fine.” You know you sound like a child when you open your eyes back to see his pretty ones. They are so full of love and desire. You could come just looking into his eyes but you won’t. Not until he says so. You want to experience that crashingly intense orgasm.
“Good girl.” 
As if calling you a good girl with that deep voice of his isn’t enough, he starts to gently rub your clit and you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your pussy is begging for release. So are you.
“You are doing so good for me, baby.” His voice is full of adoration. “You look so beautiful. All spread for me. Just waiting for my command to come around my cock.” He slams so hard inside you that it makes you moan even though you were trying to hold back all this time. “Let me hear you. You make such pretty noises.”
“Please, Bucky.” It’s so hard to hold back. You can feel tears running down your cheeks. You never wanted to come this badly in your life before. “Please let me come.”
Finally, those words come out of your mouth. It has been a tough journey, but finally, you can ignore your pride and just ask for what you really want.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” He suddenly pushes your legs onto your chest, practically folding you into two. That allows him to move deeper inside you. “You can come now,” he says right before he starts to move again.
And just like that, you start coming on his command. It’s unbelievable how your body was just waiting for four words to come out of his mouth. All that teasing, all the build-up and anticipation pays off. Your whole body starts to shake while he’s railing you like there’s no tomorrow. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted with the most delicious moans coming out of them. 
“That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He sounds like he’s close himself, but you are too lost in the bubble of pleasure to do or say something about it. 
It’s nothing like you have ever felt before. It’s so intense that there’s no thought in your mind, other than Bucky and how good he makes you feel. It’s so long that you forget to breathe for a while. Your ears are buzzing, and your muscles are contracting. You never knew this was possible. You never knew it would be better than you imagined.
When you finally come down from your high, you open your eyes to see Bucky with the most pleased expression. He hasn’t come yet. You can feel how hard he’s inside you, but you can see how accomplished he feels.
“God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He keeps moving with the same pace, chasing his high.
“Come for me, Bucky,” you say while you reach out to touch his face. He has been working so hard to make your fantasy real. “Come inside me. Please.”
“Fuck.” You can see he’s about to come. The veins around his eyes get so visible when he’s close. “You want it, baby?” His voice comes out like a groan.
“Yes. I want it. Please, give it to me.”
That does it. You just watch how he starts to come and damn, it’s such a pretty sight. You have seen this many times before, but it never ceases to surprise you. Him losing himself in pleasure like that… Especially when you know you are the reason for it. You are the reason why he’s so turned on. You are the reason why he comes so hard. You are the one doing this to him. 
When he’s done, he gently moves out and rolls next to you. You whine a little because of how empty you suddenly feel. You feel his hot and deep breaths on your neck. As soon as you think you are feeling a little cold, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid someone else will hear you.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I enjoyed that.”
“Oh, I saw how much you enjoyed it, Mr. I’m Not Sure If I Can Do This.”
He scoffs at you bringing up his first reaction. Oh, how wrong he was. It was a completely unexpected experience.
“Maybe we should try choking next time.” You test the waters reluctantly, but the look he’s giving you is nothing but promising.
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lunamugetsu · 11 months
Text
The CIA is trying to kill Danny
Now hear me out.
I stumbled upon this prompt idea where somebody wrote that they want to see a story where the CIA is trying to kill Clark Kent (not Superman, reporter Clark Kent), the reason is because that Clark Kent is a very good reporter. And everybody knows that a mark of a good reporter is that they die of natural causes, with bullets in their head. So that story would have centered around the CIA trying to kill Clark Kent and having no idea on how Clark Kent is still alive after the multiple attempts on his life.
Now this got me thinking.
In an AU where Danny is interning or working at the Daily Planet, probably under Clark or Lois.(you choose) And Danny is a really good reporter, his ghost powers help him gather information undetected. He's exposing corporations left and right, all ranging from either illegal animal experimentation, environmental pollution, horrible working conditions, toss in a couple of sleazy terrible rich people. So while all of his stuff is getting published and the govt is going, "we gotta stop that reporter." And proceed to constantly try to end this kid's life with no result. They try to poison food, Danny grew up eating radioactive food, if anything the poison is just added seasoning. They try to set up his place on fire, Danny's just conveniently not there. They try to have people tail him but they can't because Danny just disappears whenever he turns a corner.
And layers could be added to this, like Danny's just talking to Clark at work (y'know water cooler talk) and when Danny brings up all of these strange things happening to him like "people following him, the elevator at his place just conveniently broke down and crashed into the ground around the time he would have left for work, or how his usual food orders look a bit different than what they normally look like and they taste slightly different." And Clark is hearing all of this and is going "wait a minute!" and there's a scene of Clark walking with Danny as the kid is waiting for his uber and when the car pulls up. Clark uses his x-ray vision and spots the driver sporting guns, knives, poison gas (whatever CIA agents use for assassinations, I don't know) and just goes "Hey Danny did I ever take you to my favorite diner. No? GREAT! Let's go now!" and he just immediately drags Danny away from the murder car. And from that point on, Clark is taken it upon himself to stop all of the assassination attempts on Danny because he believes that Danny is a fragile young human being.
OR
This could be set in Gotham
And Danny is just exposing all of elites of Gotham, including Gotham's rogues and all of that song and dance. Which then leads him to be targeted by the Court of OWLS! Danny in this scenario would be friends with Tim, because they go to the same coffee shop and order the espresso on steroids drink. Danny tells him all of the stuff that's been happening to him and Tim goes "oh shit." In which he then tells the batsiblings. They all band together to protect Danny because he is a normal human being. (said nobody ever) So Danny becomes unofficially adopted by them. They don't tell Bruce about this because then they'll have to come to terms that they are just like him because they just took in a black haired blue eyed kid into their family.
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mcflymemes · 4 months
Text
"THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU, YOU HURT ME" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for painful conversations, adjust as necessary
we didn't exactly part ways on a good note.
i'm still waiting for my apology. you know. the one you owe me?
i hated what you've done to me.
the guilt eats me up inside.
you put me in an awkward position.
i thought i told you i never wanted to see you again.
this isn't what i had in mind.
don't you have somewhere else to be?
i want you to leave me alone.
you haven't apologized for what you did.
i don't want to see you. i never want to see you.
i said it once and i'll say it again. leave me alone!
go away, and never come back here!
i can't forgive you.
you're just sorry you got caught.
if you're looking for forgiveness, you won't find it here.
you broke my heart. what part of that do you not understand?
how am i supposed to just look the other way?
i stuck my neck out for you, and this is the thanks i get?
you were never going to apologize.
can we speak of this another time? i'm busy.
i never want to see your face again.
you know what? lose my number.
get out of my face.
you're not welcome here anymore.
i should have apologized ages ago.
you missed your chance to apologize to me.
you had plenty of opportunities to say sorry.
you're not sorry for what you did.
can't you just leave me alone?
i'm here to apologize to you.
i'll do anything you ask of me.
you know i had no other choice.
go somewhere else. not here. you're not welcome here.
don't come any closer.
turn around and walk straight out the door.
i said get away from me.
i just need five minutes of your time.
i think i owe you a pretty substantial apology.
the last time i saw you... i hurt you. i didn't mean to hurt you, but i know i did.
could you give me a second chance to make it up to you?
i can still see the hurt on your face.
you didn't deserve the way i treated you.
i should have come to you sooner, i'll admit.
is there any way we can talk about what happened?
i never should have done what i did.
you have no idea the damage you caused.
i think it'd be best if we never spoke again.
delete my number.
what i did to you... is unforgiveable.
could you at least listen to me for five minutes?
i never meant to hurt you like this.
you didn't deserve the way i treated you.
you deserved better than that. i know that now.
what if we tried again?
maybe i don't deserve forgiveness after all.
i don't even want to hear it.
don't say another word.
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rainbowhao · 2 months
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i can't take my eyes off of you ♡ beomgyu
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genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 1.4k
you’re so patient. beomgyu’s a menace and you’re so patient that it has him falling for you even more than he thought possible—putting up with his antics every day of the week and always allowing him to voice all the dumb and borderline insane ideas he has to you.
like now. gyu’s been ranting to you for the past hour all while inside the safety of your carefully-crafted pillow fort. snacks, plushies, fairy lights, even a speaker for music—it has everything you could need on a night like this. it’s far too easy for your best friend to slip in beside you and let out everything on his mind. even what's better left unsaid.
“you go out with soobin yet?” he can’t help but frown at the name as it leaves his lips. he lies on his back, arms behind his head and decked out in his comfiest pajamas. he’d heard all about the unexpected run-in with your former high school crush and had been unable to think about anything else all week.
“mhmm,” is all you say. this has beomgyu turning toward you immediately. he can’t stand when you act vague. how are you so calm and unbothered while he's dying inside?
“you did?” he leans in a little as if you’d then be prompted to respond. “well? how did it go?” 
you want to smile at how eager he looks, waiting for you to give him any little bit of information on what went down.
“it was nice. we just met for lunch and caught up.” you shrug, gaze returning to the blanket currently acting as the ceiling to your fort. 
beomgyu huffs. “i knew it. he likes you.” he shuffles around before crossing his arms across his chest. “so what? are you going to date now or something?” he asks cooly, as if it wasn’t the worst possible thing he could imagine.
“gyu, seriously.” you chuckle. “i haven’t seen him in years. it was friendly—nothing more.” your best friend had a gift—the gift of jumping to conclusions. you know he’s silently pouting right now. he'd always been like this—grumpy whenever you mentioned hanging out with anyone other than him. 
beomgyu wasn’t a possessive guy. at least when it came to everything else in his life. but you were different. was it so bad he wanted you to himself? he knew you better than anyone, could treat you right in ways you’d never imagine. so what if soobin was taller, better looking, the textbook definition of mr. right?
he didn’t get you like beomgyu did.
“you look pretty right now,” gyu tells you quietly. he doesn’t care if you’ll scold him for it—it’s true. beneath the glowing lights, your soul exposed to him in such an intimate way that only this space could bring, you’re stunning.
“what?” you’re flushing. “you’re delirious. go to sleep.” you shove a pillow his way but he just blocks it. he’s giving you those puppy-like eyes, hair hanging in his face; it’s gotten longer than it ever has. “you planning on getting a haircut?” you can’t help but reach out and run your fingers through the strands. maybe it's you who’s delirious.
his eyes flutter closed at your gentle touches. “should i?” his lips barely even move. 
“I like it a lot,” you tell him honestly. “suits you.”
“oh?” his mouth curls into a smirk “then i’ll definitely keep it long.”
you enjoy moments like these, when beomgyu’s mellow and tender-hearted. you didn’t mind the craziness, sure, but it was rare to see him in such a raw and exposed state. no games, no antics, just gyu—the boy you had inevitably fallen for.
you find yourself getting lost in his eyes when they open once more. he’s looking at you so softly you can’t seem to turn away. the twinkling lights cast a soft glow on his face, making his lips look even more pink than usual. you can feel your heartbeat quickening with each passing moment.
“am i that beautiful?” beomgyu jokes. he dramatically blinks to show off his long eyelashes. your throat’s gone dry.
“you are beautiful, gyu,” you murmur. you don’t even realize you’ve begun stroking the side of his cheek until his hand grabs yours, forcing your fingers to come to an immediate halt.
“so you admit it.” beomgyu cups the back of your hand. “you adore me, don’t you?” he giggles to himself. “i’ll remember this moment forever now—the day you finally confessed my beauty out loud.” 
“ridiculous.” you scoff and yank back your hand. “you always know how to ruin things.” 
“what things?” beomgyu prompts. and when you try to turn onto your back, he just peers over you, arms coming on either side of your torso. beomgyu doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. he doesn’t want to; he likes being near you. “are you mad now?” he hums, face becoming increasingly closer to your own.
“no,” you say blankly.
“are you embarrassed?” he teases. “you are, aren’t you? my cute baby’s all flustered.” beomgyu finds the situation all too amusing. 
“i—i am not! and who says something like that?” you’re flaming hot beneath him, suddenly feeling very trapped.
“don’t go out with soobin,” he says suddenly. “he likes you. i know he does.” his exhale’s shaky, forearms nearly wobbling as he holds himself up. “how could he not?” he whispers the last part. 
“why are you so obsessed with this?” you study him. even though he hadn’t said anything in the previous days, you knew he’d been stressing about it. beomgyu was like an open book to you. but sometimes there were things about him you didn’t understand. why was he so upset over the idea of you dating someone?
“i don’t want you to be anyone else’s but mine.” beomgyu confesses. his nose finds its way to the crook of your neck, nudging at the warm skin before he dares let his lips press against you. he kisses you so briefly, so lightly that you almost think you’d imagined it. but then he’s leaving more in a trail down your neck, whispering tiny little pleas in between. “please…let me show you.”
“show me what?” the tiny space is so incredibly warm now. “gyu, w—what are you doing?” you’d never known him to be so forward. his sudden confidence had your head spinning.
he pulls back a little to look at you. “i want you to know how much you mean to me.” beomgyu couldn’t help himself; the hazy lighting and late-night fatigue had him thinking unspeakable things about his best friend and truthfully, he’d never wanted something so badly as he wanted you in this very moment. “can i baby?”
there he goes with that name again. 
“okay,” you whisper. “how?”
“first,” he says lowly, “i’m going to kiss you.” with enough of his weight on you, he’s able to bring one hand up to your face. “right here.” the tip of his finger traces your bottom lip. “and then i’m going to tell you just how crazy you make me. or maybe you already know that.” he smiles. “as for soobin...tell him to get in line."
a/n: inspired by the song "cherry bomb" by julianna joy! please listen to it because it matches the vibe so well. and i guess this could be considered an early birthday fic :)
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oepionie · 1 year
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— "HIS COMPLETE DEVOTION" malleus draconia
SYNOPSIS: "Don't touch me! I have a lover!" - After accidentally getting hit in the head with a powerful spell, Malleus is left delirious and confused. You try to help him but he doesn't seem to recognize you.
Character/s: Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader
Tags: Fluff, Established relationship, Malleus is a loyal dragon, Reader is part of the gargoyle appreciation club, Mentions of nausea, He keeps a locket of you aww
A/N: This prompt/idea was requested by a friend!
WordCount: 800+ | 💌Masterlist | PART II HERE
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Green lightning began to strike and forsake the grey sky. Every student on campus could hear the wind howling through the thick dripping rain, a sinking feeling of dread permanating through the atmosphere.
The aged concrete walls shook from a shrill scream, the anguished cry echoing out through the hundred chambers in the castle.
"YOUNG MASTER!" Sebek drove his fingers into his scalp, screaming as thick tears dribbled down his flushed face. From his reaction, you'd think he was the one who got hurt instead.
Lilia tutted and carefully inspected Malleus' head. The young prince was laying on the ground writhing in pain. Lillia pressed his thumb against the dragon's temple, examining the Fae's reaction.
Sebek and Silver surrounded the two, ensuring that no one could get past them. Malleus was in a vulnerable state right now, he had to be protected at all costs.
"The spell was quite powerful however it's not serious. Other than some temporary mental confusion, he should be fine." Lilia muttered, helping Malleus stand up. The young prince stumbled around for a bit, almost as if he was intoxicated.
"Malleus!" You threw the doors to the dorm open, running over to the group. It's only when you got closer did you notice your lover's spinning eyes, glazed over as he blinks at the blank concrete floors. Worried out of your mind, you rushed over to him.
"Tsunotarou! I heard what happened…are you okay?" The fae appeared a little puzzled. You stood before him and he fixed his gaze on you, confused and...disgusted?
With a hint of hesitance, you reached your hands up to cup his cheeks. Only to gasp when Malleus glowered and grasped onto your wrists, ripping your hands off of his face.
Silence fell over the room as he dropped his grip on your arms, allowing them to hang limply by your sides. Everyone gawked at Malleus as if he had just grown two heads.
Malleus? Malleus rejected your affection? The Malleus who waits outside your dorm an hour before classes just to walk you to school? The Malleus who once caused a week-long storm just because he couldn't sit next to you in class? Your Malleus?
You felt your heart sink. They say drunk words were sober thoughts. Did Malleus secretly despise you?
"Listen here-" Malleus snarled, his unfocused eyes flashing a luminous emerald green. The radiance and illumination hypnotizes you for a while. A kaleidoscope of green and blue swirling around the gems that were his eyes.
"No matter how alluring you look-you can't tempt me. I-" Malleus lurched forward, nearly falling over. You ran to catch him but he pushed you away, stepping back blindly. He raised a finger at you. "I-I already have a lover!"
"Yes-That's…me?" You blinked, confused out of your mind.
Malleus only scoffs at you, shakily taking a few steps towards the entrance. It was clear that his head still shook and ached from the spell's blow. Sebek was quick to stop him, holding Malleus steady. "Young Master! Where are you going?!"
"To my-my treasure. My darling prefect." Malleus slurred, leaning against Sebek for support. He continued his rambling. "It's Thursday- We have a club meeting."
"Tsuno-I mean-Malleus, today is Tuesday." You piped up, pressing a hand against his back. With shaky legs, he pushed Sebek off and turned to glare at you.
"Silence. It is not."
Lilia laughs hysterically, doubling over and grabbing onto his knees. Oh, this was comedy gold for him. Shaking his head at his father, Silver strode up to Malleus and placed his hand on the young prince's shoulder.
"Malleus, you're still delirious. Why don't you sit down."
Both Silver and Sebek started to guide the woozy fae onto the couch. You followed suit, taking a pillow and placing it under his head. He turned to face you, his head spinning, a loopy snarl and glare on his face.
"I...I already told you- I have a lover." He groans into his hands, nausea washing over him like waves.
The fae begins frantically rummaging through his pocket. He yanks out a little locket in the form of a heart, holding it up for you to look at. He hands it to you with an arrogant smirk on his face.
"See?"
"O-Oh?"Gently taking it into your hands, you flipped the metal cover over to see a picture of you inside.
It was a photo from your very first anniversary. You were wearing a flower crown made with roses Malleus grew himself, it was one of the many gifts he gave you that day.
Though only your head and neck could be seen in the picture since his coat had almost completely engulfed you. It was a chilly day and Malleus graciously lent you his coat after you had forgotten to wear one.
You stared at the photo fondly, shutting it close before handing the necklace back to the fae.
"Your partner must be lovely." You whisper softly and Malleus sighs, lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling lovingly.
"Oh. They are much more than that."
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PART II | Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!
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three times hyunjin wanted to kiss you plus the one time he finally did | h.h.j
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pairing... bsf!hyunjin x gn!reader tags... best friends to lovers, "unrequited" love, fluff, 3+1 prompt
hyunjin really, really wants to kiss you. but he can't, because that's not what best friends do.
wc... 1.4k words a/n... was supposed to have class today but there was a really bad storm so i whipped this up during my newfound free time <3 this is longer than i planned it to be tbh
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° ONE
Hyunjin was bored to death. He had done nothing all day except use his phone, watch tv, use his phone, pretend to work on his laptop, and use his phone. Now, here he was, lounging on his couch, tapping away on his phone and looking for food to order.
He contemplated texting you, his best friend, but decided against it, thinking you were probably busy.
Right as he was about to pay for his food, Hyunjin's phone buzzed and a notification popped up. his eyes lit up, realizing it was a message from you.
y/n <3: hyun! y/n <3: are you busy?
Typing as if his life depended on it, Hyunjin quickly replied.
hyunjinnie: nah hyunjinnie: i was about to order dinner tho y/n <3: do you want mcdonald's? was thinking i could pick u up and we can get drive-thru
Ah, times like this, Hyunjin really just wanted to give you a big fat kiss. You were always spoiling him, after all.
hyunjinnie: YES PLEASE!!!! hyunjinnie: maybe we could watch a movie after too hyunjinnie: i mean, only if you want
He was nervous. He's invited you over many times before, but not since he realized that he was maybe, kind of, sort of in love with you.
y/n <3: definitely!!! sounds like a plan <3 i'll be there in 15
And just like that, Hyunjin's smiling like an idiot. Words can't explain how excited he was to see your face, to smell your perfume, and to hear your voice. And if his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips, that was his business and his alone.
ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° TWO
Fifteen minutes had never felt longer. Hyunjin was anxiously waiting for you to arrive, eyes darting between his phone and the clock on the wall. Were you purposely driving slow to make him crazy?
As if on cue, you knocked on his front door, making him jump up off the couch in excitement. He slid his phone into his pocket, grabbed his wallet and keys, and walked over to the entrance of his apartment.
When he opened the door, you were greeted with a huge smile and a big, warm hug.
"Hi! i missed you," Hyunjin said, though it was muffled due to the fact that his face was buried in your hair. You giggled at his affection and replied, "We just saw each other last week!"
"I know, I still missed you, though." Smiling sheepishly, he let go of you and closed the door to his apartment. He took your hand and pulled you towards the elevator. "Come on. I'm starving."
×
After a long wait at McDonald's, you finally paid and got your food. Pulling out of the drive-thru, you began your drive back to Hyunjin's house.
"No way, I've been scammed!" Hyunjin gasps dramatically, raising his hand to his forehead and slumping in his seat. "They only gave me five nuggets when i ordered six. I'm legally obligated to one more!!!"
"What? No way." you quickly peeked inside the box Hyunjin was holding, seeing that there were, in fact, only five nuggets. "Alright, we're going back there."
Surprised, Hyunjin sat up and stared at you. "Wait, huh? No, Y/n- I was just kidding. It's just one nugget difference. It isn't a big deal, let's just go home."
"Don't be crazy, Hyun. you paid for six nuggets, and you're getting those six nuggets." The look on your face was one of pure determination. Your brows were furrowed, your eyes focused on the road, and your lips—god, your lips—looked so pretty and soft. 'Perhaps,' Hyunjin thought, 'I should repay Y/n for all the trouble with a kiss.'
ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° THREE
Hyunjin's heart was beating a mile a minute. The two of you had chosen to watch a horror movie after eating dinner, which was a bad idea considering you both hated them. But the reason for his pacing heartbeat wasn't the movie, no, it was you.
You were sitting next to him on the couch, huddled under the blanket. Your legs were touching his, your hands were clutching his arm, and your neck was resting on his shoulder. He wasn't even paying attention to the movie anymore, not when you were this close to him. Not even the jumpscares affected him. He was far too focused on how your grip around his arm would tighten, how you would try to scooch even closer to him, how you would hide your face in his neck.
After the movie ended, the two of you stayed in your position on the couch, too comfortable to move. Hyunjin had his arm around your shoulders, keeping you safe in his grasp. You were telling him about your past few days, eyes lighting up as you recalled your happy memories. The corners of your lips perked up when you talked, pulling your cheeks higher and bringing your eyes to a crinkle.
You looked so pretty in his arms, Hyunjin swears he could just lean in and kiss you right then and there. But he doesn't, because that's not what best friends do.
ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° PLUS ONE
The stars were twinkling in the midnight sky. It was late and you were too scared to drive yourself home, claiming that the horror movie "changed your brain chemistry." So, like any good best friend would do, Hyunjin invited you to spend the night. In his bed.
"Are you sure, Hyun? I'm perfectly happy sleeping on the couch." You were standing by his bedroom door, watching him pull out your favorite hoodies of his. He walked to you with a soft smile, handing you the hoodie so you could change into something more comfortable than your old (and probably a size too small) t-shirt. "Oh come on, it's fine. I'm the one who asked you to stay over, anyway. It's only right that you take the bed and I take the couch."
Reluctantly accepting the hoodie from his hands, you sigh. "Okay, okay. I'll sleep on your bed. But! Only if you stay here with me."
A deep blush crept onto Hyunjin's cheeks at your request, but still, he gave in and nodded. "Sure, anything for you, Y/n."
×
It was a long, nearly sleepless night. Beside Hyunjin, you slept peacefully, lying on your side and facing him. He spent many hours staring up at his ceiling, silently cursing and thanking god at the same time for putting him in this situation.
Don't get him wrong, Hyunjin was so glad to have you with him in his bed, but he was so anxious that he'd make you uncomfortable. Were you okay sleeping while facing each other? Was he hogging too much of the blanket? Was he too close to you?
Eventually, these thoughts subsided and Hyunjin finally fell asleep. After a couple hours of rest, the sun started to seep through the curtains, filling the room with soft rays of light. Opening his eyes once again, Hyunjin was delighted to be greeted by your face in front of his.
You were so beautiful. Hyunjin admired the way your plump lips still curved into a small smile despite being asleep. Your hair was covering your eyes, so he slowly reached his hand to your forehead, gently brushing the stray pieces behind your ear. His hand hovered there as he thought to himself, 'I could just kiss them, right now. No one has to know.' Shaking the thought away, he brought his hand back down to his side, choosing to continue admiring your beauty instead.
"Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to kiss me?" you whispered, eyes slowly opening. "I mean, if you won't do it, I will,"
Hyunjin's mouth dropped open. Did he hear you correctly?
You giggled at his reaction, bringing your hand to his cheek. He immediately leaned into your touch. "Last chance, Hyun."
This is it, he was gonna do it. He was going to kiss you. Closing his eyes, Hyunjin leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was everything. He could've sworn he felt fireworks explode in his chest. He placed his hand on the small of your back, bringing your bodies together. You moved the hand on his cheek to the hair at his nape, playing with the soft strands.
Pulling away, Hyunjin took a deep breath and opened his eyes. You both smiled at each other, happy in each other's arms. "Finally. You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."
"Took you long enough," you laughed. "I was so sure you'd kiss me after the movie. I was waiting all night."
Hyunjin chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. God, he could get used to this. "Had I known you wanted me to kiss you, I wouldn't have waited for a single second."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023
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the-offside-rule · 2 months
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Charles Leclerc - (Scuderia Ferrari) - Your Hand Fits In Mine
Requested: yes
Prompt: 22) "I like how your hand fits in mine."
Warnings: none tbh
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Charles Leclerc woke up in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of Y/n's Monaco apartment. He smiled as he looked at the peaceful face of his girlfriend, who was still lost in the land of dreams. Careful not to wake her, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Y/n stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open to meet Charles' gaze. He grinned upon seeing her tired smile. "Good morning, sleepyhead." She yawned and stretched, "Morning. What time is it?" She asked. "Does it really matter when we have all the time in the world?" He replied.
Y/n sat up and walked over to the double doors that opened out onto her balcony and opened them, the Mediterranean breeze danced through the curtains, Charles Leclerc found solace in the sight of his girlfriend. Their love, like the winding streets of the principality, was hidden from the prying eyes of the world. "Come back to bed." He said and with little to no convincing, Y/n did.
As the morning sun painted the room with a warm glow, Charles lay entwined with Y/n, their laughter echoing off the walls of her cozy apartment. The soft sheets cradled them as they basked in the simple joy of each other's company. The pair watched as their hands moved around with the other, looking almost like a dance. "I like how your hand fits in mine." Charles whispered, the pair looking up to their hands as entwined as they were. "It's like they were made to be together." He murmured, bringing her hand to his lips and planting a tender kiss on her knuckles. "It's like the world stops spinning, and it's just us against the sunrise." With a contented sigh, Y/n snuggled closer to Charles, her head resting on his chest. "I love this whole romantic morning and all, but I really need to get up. I have work, remember?" He chuckled, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. "Work can wait. I have a better idea." He murmured, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and kissing her sweet spot. She sucked on her lower lip to hide a smile but mornings like this are what got her in trouble.
She pulled his head away and kissed him, before pulling away with a playful smile on her lips. "You say that every morning, Charles. I can't keep being late." Charles pouted. "But you look so perfect in the mornings. And my dreams of you just make me want to-" She kissed him again to get him to shut up, because if she heard his dreams, she wouldn't leave the apartment and he knew that. "I need to go." She whispered. "But you're so perfect, I need you." He got up on top of her, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her lips. Y/n chuckled, her fingers dancing along the contours of his chest. "You're biased."
"Please, let me show you how perfect you are." Charles admitted, his lips finding hers in a lingering kiss. "Besides, who needs work when we can have moments like this?" She pulled away, a mock stern expression on her face. "I do, Charles. I have responsibilities, unlike some people." He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you saying my job isn't important?" Y/n laughed, her eyes sparkling. "No, I'm saying you have the luxury of being a Formula 1 driver. I, on the other hand, have bills to pay." Charles sighed dramatically, pulling her back into his arms. "What if I call your boss and explain that you're having a 'morning emergency' and can't make it?" She raised an eyebrow. "A morning emergency? What's that?"
He grinned, his voice dripping with mischief. "Well, it's a term I just made up for when someone is desperately needed in bed for a dicking down." Y/n burst into laughter, shaking her head. "You're so horny, Charles." She laughed before Charles leaned over her yet again, his chain dangling from his neck and sparkling in the soft sunlight. "Or, here's another idea." He continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Quit your job, and you come to my races and we can have mornings like this eve morning." She sighed, a familiar response to his persistent suggestion. "Charles, we've been over this. I can't just quit my job."
"But think about it." He insisted, his fingers tracing patterns on her arm. "You wake up in a new city, the only worrying thing being what clothes to wear today, and a sexy Ferrari driver between your legs." Y/n looked at him, her heart torn between the practicalities of life and the allure of adventure. "As enticingas that sounds-" She paused, placing a hand on his chest. "I need a job so I can provide for myself. I am happy to quit if or when we have children but until then, there is no way I am quitting my job. Im just being responsible with my life." He sighed, feigning disappointment. "Fine, be the responsible one. But just know that the offer stands whenever you're ready to say yes."
Y/n gently extracted herself from Charles' lingering embrace, a smile playing on her lips. "I really have to go now, Charles." He sighed dramatically, giving her a theatrical pout. "Fine, fine. But you better make it up to me later." She bit her lip and leaned in, placing a lingering kiss on his lips. "I'll give you a night you'll never forget."
As Y/n made her way to the door, Charles couldn't resist one more impulsive move. He grabbed her hand, pulling her back for another quick kiss. "I love you." He whispered against her lips. Y/n blushed, reciprocating the sentiment. "I love you too, Charles." Reluctantly, he let her go, watching her leave the apartment. In a burst of energy, Charles dashed to the balcony, a sudden idea forming in his mischievous mind. As Y/n walked down the street below, he shouted after her. "Y/n!" She looked up to see her boyfriend, naked eith nothing but their bed sheets to cover himself. "Je t'aime, Y/n!" He shouted, his arms opened wide.
People passing by stopped and stared, their eyes widening at the sight of the famous Formula 1 driver proclaiming his love from the balcony. Charles, oblivious to the amused and perplexed onlookers, grinned widely, shouting once more. "Je t'aime, mon amour!" Y/n covered her eyes with her sunglasses to cover the slight embarrassment her boyfriend gave her, but still she blew a playful kiss towards the balcony, making a heart with her hand. Charles caught it dramatically, proclaiming once again that he loved her.
The spectators on the street exchanged glances, some snapping pictures of the unexpected romantic scene. Finally satisfied, Charles winked at Y/n, who was now laughing heartily, and retreated back into the apartment, leaving the crowd still buzzing with excitement. He couldn't help but revel in the spontaneity of the moment and the sheer joy of expressing his feelings for Y/n in the most unconventional way.
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wongyuuu · 3 months
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midnight rain | lsm
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pairing: seokmin x f!reader genre: angst, smut, a little bit of fluff word count: 17k summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, oral, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested the dearest @ressonancee. but also, it's part of svt ans songs from midnights. i just wrote two in one and something that was supposed to be short became this monster. i hope i wrote seokmin in a way you'll like it. prompt: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do." Seokmin ➝ Midnight Rain He was sunshine, I was midnight rain ↳ it was the oldest story in the world, the bright boy fell for the grumpy girl.
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Letter #1
Seokmin,
You know, I've always been very proud of not being a very attached person. I've always been proud that I can put myself first and second, because I know I need to do it, because I know that no one else will do it for me. So, when I came here and dropped everything I had, I thought it would be a lot easier than it actually is.
When I turn around in bed at night, after days of trying to get used to the time zone and weeks to the weather and the people here — which are both bad and for completely different reasons, nothing is like in the movies — I always hope to find you there by my side and being able to snuggle up to you like I always did. I wake up in the morning and make enough coffee for two people and take two mugs out of the cupboard, and only then do I realize I'm alone here. I don't need two mugs and I made too much coffee. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I find myself typing your number, which I have memorized despite the fact that no one remembers phone numbers, because phones exist for a reason.
You have no idea how much I miss you and what I would do to be able to hear your voice again. I would do anything, I swear I could. But I know I no longer have that right. I know that what I did is unforgivable and although I want your forgiveness, I hope you never forget what I did to you.
You were still good to me on the last day. You took me to the airport, you said goodbye to me, you hugged me tight like you know I like it and you did your best not to shed a tear in front of me.
Every now and then I catch myself thinking that I messed up. I could have done my master's where we graduated, I didn't need to move to the other side of the world and leave the life I knew behind. But at the same time, I accept it. Coming here was my dream, it was always what I dreamed of even when you were by my side as well. And maybe that's why I never told you about the application, about being approved. Maybe I waited until the end, until the very last second to tell you because I knew you were the only one capable of changing my mind.
When I was by your side, I started to dream of a different life, a life that had you at all times and in all aspects. But, as you may have already noticed, I chose my first dream.
I know I won't regret it. I can't afford to regret it. You’ll become who you always wanted to be and I’ll be there to give you a standing ovation. Not there, next to you, but from afar.
yn 
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“That was Sunday Morning, by Hong Joshua. Ah, whenever I hear this song I remember my college days. I've said this here a few times, and I think I sound like a broken record by this point, but Joshua and I went to the same college and he was always singing this song in the hallways. Any small gathering between friends he would pull out the guitar and sing. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to this song at least once a week for the next year. Or until he releases the next one.”
Seokmin looked at the monitor to his right as a pre-recorded commercial for the next show started. The comments were going up too quickly, which made reading them an almost impossible mission.
On the other side of the glass, Chan made a sign indicating that the commercial was over. Seokmin looked at his friend as he lowered one finger after another and finally pointed at him. Chan placed a sheet of paper, which was always used, against the glass, which said “last, chat”. Indicating that he still had one more question to answer.
“We have time for one more question” Seokmin said, opening the internal chat he used with the other radio employees and read the question that Chan had sent “I ended a relationship of almost four years a few months ago, but I still can't understand what happened. I haven't even returned his things yet. How do I get in touch saying I want to return it?”
Seokmin swallowed. He knew that Chan hadn't done it on purpose, that he had no way of knowing everything that had happened between him and you, but he hated how much the question resonated in his head. It was a feeling he shared and for him it had been a little worse because you lived together during your last year of college. So when he entered the house and saw all the furniture, the decorations, your clothes still in the closet, it was like entering a time machine. In that 30 square meter space, for a few minutes, you still hadn't left.
He took a deep breath, away from the microphone so the sound wouldn't be picked, and leaned forward.
“It's a difficult question, really. If it's been a few months and he still hasn't picked his things up, it's because he doesn't need them, so I don't think you should bother contacting him. Hmmm”
He bit his lip and rested his elbows on the table, thinking if he should continue talking or if it would be better to stop there. Seokmin always thought it was better not to let personal feelings show on the radio, but he had moments when he couldn't follow his own rules.
“I can tell you from experience that sometimes silence is better. Because if you know the truth, it could hurt you even more. When I was in a similar situation, after a while I simply discarded the person's belongings. At first, it will be difficult, because you’ll see that shirt you gave as a gift, that letter you wrote and remember what it meant, the moment you gave those things to him. But little by little you will achieve it. Don't feel obligated to just move on when you're not ready. People will always tell you that it's about time, that it's been so many weeks or months. You’re the one who knows about your feelings.”
Chan knocked on the glass again, almost desperate because Seokmin's answer had been too long. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost in what he was saying and maybe had been talking in circles. It always happened that he remembered you when he answered a question.
And in that specific question he was being a hypocrite because he knew that if he opened his closet, deep inside it, he would find at least two boxes full of your things hidden. He rarely went near those boxes, he liked to pretend they didn't exist and most days he managed to achieve that thought. But there were other days…
“So we come to the end of another Cupid's Corner with Minnie. See you again next week. Cupid’s Corner with Minnie: Unveiling Love’s Melody, One Relationship at a Time!”
Seokmin removed his headphones, stood up, and waved at the cameras he knew were pointed at him. He grabbed his phone and the bottle of water he always carried with him. The red light above the door finally went out and Seokmin left the studio.
Immediately, Chan appeared beside him. He had just gone blond, and it strangely suited him.
He knew the youngest was desperate, not that he was doing a good job of hiding it. The disheveled hair, pointing in all directions, also helped a lot.
“You’re going to have a heart attack if you continue like this” Seokmin said laughing.
Chan was the newest employee, handpicked by Seokmin a few months before. Seokmin needed someone to help him organize the broadcasts after his previous assistant quit because she had gotten a job in the field she had studied. Seokmin even talked to her and offered a higher salary that would come out of his own pocket, but nothing seemed to help. Not that he blamed her, in her place he would have done the same thing. But in the position he was in, changes made him uncomfortable so he did what he could to make sure everything stayed the same.
Maybe it was trauma.
“It’s because they yell at me, not you.”
One of the reasons Seokmin chose Chan as his new assistant was his sincerity. In the middle of the interview he “I think there are things in your program that need to change” and started listing things that he thought were dated or ideas that had been used too much and therefore didn't have the same effect on listeners. The others had found him presumptuous as if he wanted to know more than those who worked at the radio. Seokmin disagreed and that's how Chan got the job.
“They yell at you because you’re the new guy, no one yelled at Jiah”
Chan made a sound in the back of his throat, like a scoff.
“That's because everyone was afraid of her” Seokmin rolled his eyes and reached for the folder Chan was carrying “Oh, right. Tomorrow is your lecture for the communication classes, but they said it is possible that students from other courses will also be there, because it’llll be in the auditorium”
Seokmin nodded, reading the guidelines Chan had made. He needed to admit that he was organized and had absolute control over everything he did. He was sure that if he asked about Wonwoo's program, Chan would know how to answer as if he worked directly with him.
“You know how it is, I have fans” Chan pretended to vomit “If you go tomorrow, we’ll go out to dinner later, I’ll pay”
"Deal"
Seokmin always found it strange to be called to give lectures at the college where he studied. He wasn't a teacher and he didn't think he had done enough to be someone who could give advice to someone. In fact, Seokmin was sure he hadn't done anything big. His life, to put it very simply, was flat. At least, almost all of his life.
Seokmin has always been the type of guy who makes plans and follows through on those plans. When he was sixteen he got it into his head that he wanted to work in radio. It wasn't without reasons, of course. He joined the school radio and despite doing very little, because the school director had to know everything that would be done, even the nouns he would use in the sentence, he fell in love with the idea. That's why he decided he should study journalism in college, that way even if his radio career didn't work out, he would still have a profession.
But his dream was to work on a radio, to have his own program. So that's what he did.
He entered college as planned, sunk into student debt, and graduated exactly as he had planned. In his last semester, he got an internship at the biggest radio station in the country. He was on cloud nine. It was as if he had received the green light in life and everything was on the right track.
At least that's what he thought. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe. The internship became a permanent position and one day he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That's why he never felt prepared to give anyone advice. Despite having decided on the career he wanted to pursue, he knew that he also needed to count on a little luck and help. The only words he could offer were “you work hard, study, make contacts, and throw the rest into luck’s hands”. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear when he was a student looking forward to the future, so he certainly wouldn't say it to anyone.
However, Chan convinced him that it would be a good idea to give the talk.
“You’re going to tell me how you got here, that’s all. An unknown face who quickly went on air to cover someone for one of the most beloved radio broadcasters in the country. I'm sure if you say that shit fell on your head, they'll like it” Chan had said laughing.
Overall the lecture went very well. Better than expected. He answered the questions as honestly as possible and used his best smile to get rid of the more awkward questions.
Despite the good day, he knew he didn't want to repeat the dose anytime soon.
“They want to know if you would be willing to do one of these a semester” Chan whispered because he knew the answer Seokmin would give, so it was better for the students not to hear.
“No” was all Seokmin said “But I’ll still buy you dinner”
Chan punched the air in celebration, catching the eyes of those around him, but he seemed to care very little.
"I just…"
What Seokmin was about to say, an announcement that he needed to go to the bathroom, died in his throat as he looked straight ahead.
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Letter #2
Seokmin,
I thought I would be able to adapt faster here. It was very hard in the beginning with transport, getting around in general was very difficult. So I chose a weekend and went walking around the neighborhood where I live. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I thought I should check it out. Besides, I can wake up in the middle of the night and decide that I want to eat something that I don't have at home, so it's good to know if there are any stores or markets that open in the middle of the night (in this neighborhood there aren't any, maybe that's why I won’t stay here).
I discovered that going out there, although productive, wasn't such a good idea. Nothing wrong happened, I didn't get hit on or someone was rude to me. Quite the contrary, most people pretended they weren't even seeing me. The problem was that everything made me think about you.
I walked by the store that sold a lot of random old things and decided to go in. You know I love filling the house with trinkets. I didn't find anything there that I liked, but I saw that they were selling camera films. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and all I could think was, I think Seokmin is running out of film, I need to buy more because he will only realize when he doesn't have any left.
I bought it and brought it to the apartment. I opened the door and called your name. It was only later, when I noticed where I was, that it wasn't our apartment, that I realized what I had done.
Even without meaning to, even when I try not to, I find myself looking for you. Everywhere. I go to a restaurant and think about what you would like to eat, I see a dog on the street and I imagine you bending down to pet it. It's not on purpose, I just can't help it. I try, but it's in vain.
I wonder if it will pass. Will this feeling that I succeeded in my career but ruined my personal life disappear or will I feel like this forever — or at least for a good few years?
yn.
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It was as if all the air had been ripped from your lungs and there was no way in the world to get you to breathe.
Somehow, some way, Seokmin was standing in front of you, in the middle of the college hallway.
For a moment it was as if you had been transported back in time, to when you were still 22 years old. In another moment you would have simply run up to him and thrown yourself into his arms as if you hadn't spent the whole night clinging to him, as if you hadn't seen each other before classes, as if you hadn't shared the smallest space in the world on the subway for 20 minutes. And your body seemed to remember all of this, like some kind of muscle memory, because you felt like you were being projected forward. Towards him.
You thought Seokmin would talk to you, you were sure he would. But you saw the way his gaze changed, the way it went from complete surprise to a hard look, completely different from anything you had ever seen from him.
In your memory, Seokmin was always brilliant and was always willing to welcome everyone with open arms, even when he felt more shy. You didn’t understand, that look he gave you was completely different from what you imagined could happen.
When you made the decision to return, you knew that there was a possibility of meeting Seokmin, no matter how small it was. You didn't know if he was still friends with the same people, if he still kept in touch with them. You certainly hadn't kept in touch with anyone - except for the two times you talked to Joshua. The possibility existed, but being realistic you knew it was as big as winning the lottery.
Of all the places you thought you could find Seokmin, college was the last one and maybe that was even why you accepted the job. When you were taking the last tests, the ones that would say whether you would graduate at the end of the semester or not, Seokmin was categorical in saying that he would never set foot inside college again. So you thought it was a place he would never go, but there he was. And in your first week, when you needed everything to go well. Not to show that you were ready and that you could do the job, but to reassure yourself that you had made the right choice in accepting the job.
You didn't have time to decide whether to talk to him or not. Seokmin made the decision for both of you. He continued walking as if you weren't there, talking to the boy next to him, laughing. The only indication that he knew who you were was silent once and one that only you could distinguish.
He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.
Was it possible that only you had felt that way? That just your heart had decided it didn't know how to beat, as if a storm was raging inside your body?
You didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. You just forced yourself to take a deep breath and also keep walking as if those brief seconds weren't enough to make your entire world turn completely upside down.
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Seokmin dragged his feet into the room, tripping over the rug at the foot of the bed. A curse came out of his mouth, followed by a burp. When he invited Chan to dinner he had no intention of ending the night drunk, being carried home like someone who had just had his first drink.
It had been years since he had gotten that bad and it was comical that the previous occasion was also connected to you.
The memory of leaving you at the airport, on a flight in the middle of the night, was still vivid in Seokmin's mind. Worse than that memory, was the one of you telling him that you had gotten a place in a master's degree on the other side of the world, 18 hours before leaving the country.
“I need to tell you something” you said as he pulled his coat over his head and patted his pockets, making sure he had grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. He needed to leave as quickly as possible, he was already late.
Seokmin had plans to ask you to marry him. He had rented a house where you could spend the weekend, where it would be possible to see the stars. He had prepared himself, but he needed to leave right that second so he would have enough time to go to the house, get everything ready and come back to get you. The owner of the house would help him, since Seokmin decided that he wouldn't tell any of his friends because they might just ruin the surprise.
“I'm already late” he said, quickly looking at his watch. "Did something happen?"
He asked, noticing your already somewhat desperate look. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't be good.
To be honest, he had noticed that something was wrong a few weeks before, and for a while, he decided it would be better not to get into it too much. He knew you well enough to know that you would offer the information when you felt ready to do so. But thinking back on everything, he wished he had asked before, he wished he hadn't given you space, he wished he had forced you to talk to him sooner.
“I passed my master’s degree abroad”
Seokmin’s first reaction was to be happy for you. He knew how much you wanted that, that it was your dream. So he did what any boyfriend would do, he hugged you and congratulated you, told you that you had tried so hard and that they would be idiots not to accept you. The feeling was true and his smile was genuine. He was happy for you.
Knowing what he knew, every now and then Seokmin wondered if he would have done anything differently if he knew what the next words would be out of your mouth. He could have made a fuss, he could have begged you to stay, he could have offered to go with you. But at the time he didn't do any of that.
“I’m leaving today, I need to be at the airport at 11 pm”
Seokmin's ears rang deafeningly. It was as if he had been punched and needed to brace himself against something. The sofa was the closest piece of furniture.
He thought he heard it wrong, he wished he was dreaming, but all he had to do was look at you. It was true. It was as if a puzzle was being completed in Seokmin's mind. The way you had suddenly become distant, how every time he entered the room you hurried to change or close whatever you were looking at on the computer. He didn't even know you signed up. He imagined that you must have done some kind of test, some interview and he didn't even know anything about it.
He had no idea.
Had he been a bad boyfriend, someone who was so focused on making the long-awaited proposal that he had ignored everything else? Or had you hidden it so well that he hadn't noticed?
"What? You’re leaving today?"
It was like the world was spinning too fast and he was trying to keep up with what was happening. It was like being on a roller coaster that kept on falling. He remembered well how the little box with the ring he had carefully chosen weighed in his pocket.
“I didn’t even know you had applied for a position” he whispered, almost just to himself “You didn’t tell me”
And it was at that exact moment, when he looked at you, that Seokmin realized that your relationship was over. You avoided looking at him, your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your coat, which was his. He saw your eyes fill with tears, you swallow hard, and remain silent.
It was unlike you, to stay quiet when you had too many things going through your head. He desperately wanted you to talk to him, to tell him what had been going through your head. He just wanted to understand. Did you believe he would somehow stop you from going? If there was one thing he knew about you, it was the fact that you always put your education first. It wasn't a secret and you didn't want it to be. He just didn't expect things to happen that way.
Seokmin sat in front of the closet, on the floor, and with difficulty opened the doors. Deep in the back, behind several shoe boxes, were two old boxes that he hadn't moved in years. Part of him wished the things inside the boxes were ruined, that they had mold and anything else that could ruin its content. But he had been careful, kept everything in order, taken all necessary precautions, and cleaned the closet periodically.
He ignored the first box and pulled the smaller one towards him, placing it on his bent legs. Seokmin wasn't one to revisit those memories, he liked to keep them as far away from him as possible, but on nights like those, it was impossible.
Seokmin knew what he would find and was sure how he would feel, but he still took the lid off the box, but he didn't dare take out any of the items inside it.
He knew he had reached his lowest point when he was holding on to memories he had of you and not focusing on what was actually happening in his life.
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Letter #3
Seokmin,
I talked to Joshua today. Talk is a bit too strong of a word. We exchanged a few words on Instagram. He posted a photo and I liked it, he sent me a DM asking if I was ok and how things were going. I lied, of course. He said everything was fine and he was happy. He didn't talk about you and I didn't ask.
It was very hard to contain myself. I want to know how you are. The more selfish part of my brain wants you to be just as bad as I feel. You know that little demon that sits on our shoulder? He assures me you're even worse. And I hate to think that's the case, but at the same time, I'm sure you're not okay. I know you, we dated for four years, we lived together for almost two years
You were always the more emotional one of the two of us. You were never afraid to show your feelings, not for me or anyone else. You always loved so openly, without any fear. I admit that at first, it scared me a little.
I was an 18-year-old girl who came from a family that had no idea how to show affection, so I was always more reserved in that aspect. And there you were with your beautiful, bright smile, with open arms, affectionate with anyone who came along. I thought you were a crazy person who didn't have the slightest notion of the world. It took a while for me to realize that your world was brighter than mine in ways I couldn't understand.
You were always so untethered, free, showing yourself to anyone who had eyes. When I was closed and more reclusive, you were open and expansive. When I was very shy or reserved, you were more charming and brighter than usual. Not even my worst mood, which seemed endless at times, was a problem for you.
One day you just showed up and decided that you would stay by my side, no matter what. Believe me when I say, I tried to push you away. But with each passing day you were further under my skin.
A kiss at a random party turned into a date at every party, parties became meetings at the college library, which led to coffee dates. One day you decided at the end of each date you had to take me back to the dorms and you kissed me for a long time on the side of the building where no one could see — or at least I made myself believe no one did. Then that alone wasn't enough and you were always with your fingers intertwined with mine, or your arm around my waist. And kisses were no longer reserved for empty streets, of course not. You kissed me anywhere, anytime, no matter who was watching.
You were sneaky, Seokmin.
When I realized it, I was in love with you. Your arms were my refuge. You were my safe space. My home.
yn.
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You hated that Seokmin’s reaction, or lack thereof, had gotten to you so much. It was like being punched, and then one more, soon the punch became a beating and to finish with a flourish, it was as if a truck had run over you.
You had plans to go out at the weekend, though alone. Everything was so different, the places you knew no longer existed and friends from the past no longer spoke to you. You would have to rediscover the city without anyone's help. Despite your plans, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the house.
When you decided to return, you knew there would be no way to escape Seokmin. He had become successful not only in his career as a broadcaster but also as a celebrity of sorts. You never imagined you would see his face in magazines or on billboards selling fried chicken. You didn't expect that when you turned on the TV you would see his face in different programs.
In fact, you knew all of that was happening, but somehow you managed to convince yourself that you wouldn't have to see any of it. You managed to make yourself believe that you would not be haunted by his images and voice.
When you were away, you always listened to his programs, more than once each one, but it was almost like a relationship between fan and celebrity. You could separate very well what was him and what was you. But being there, in the same country, in the same city, it was much more difficult to make that separation.
Because once you were back, Seokmin was no longer just the radio host with a show about relationships. Far from it. Seokmin was your college sweetheart, the guy whose heart you broke but who, even after seven years, was still in love with.
That was the reality. you were still in love with him. There was no relationship in the world, no man in the world, that would have made you forget about Seokmin. Sometimes it worked, sometimes you managed to forget about him for a few months and that feeling of loss, of emptiness, that had settled deep inside your heart became smaller and smaller. And then it would come back full on as if it had never left.
Maybe that was your curse, your punishment for leaving behind someone you could have spent the rest of your life with. And somehow you knew you would have been happy. Or at least a different kind of happiness.
After spending the weekend holed up inside your apartment, after convincing yourself that you needed to prepare for teaching classes and unpacking the move, she decided that on Tuesday night she would explore the city.
Exploring wasn't the right word. You had discovered that one of your favorite restaurants still existed, it had just changed location. And, despite being on the other side of the city and being completely aware that you would have to pay a fortune for a taxi or risk taking the subway alone almost at closing time, you decided to go anyway.
You needed to feel like one thing hadn't changed, or at least still be recognizable.
You heard your name being called a few minutes after sitting down. You raised your head, recognizing the voice, but couldn't tell who it belonged to. Directly in front of you was a woman, with short hair, in her fifties.
“It’s really you!”
You stood up and a second later you were being hugged. Maybe you had gone there for that reason, knowing that there would be someone there who would recognize you. Or at least you hoped there was. And when you were welcomed with open arms by her owner, Niah, you wanted to cry for the first time in a long time.
“Hi” was all you could offer, your voice weak.
You quickly turned your face away, trying to be discreet as you wiped away your tears. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of someone else. Tears were reserved for dark moments in the silence of your apartment, they weren't meant to be seen by people you didn't even know in a crowded restaurant.
“Look how beautiful you look. You haven't been around for so long. Seokmin told us that you had gone abroad to study, but I thought you would come back sooner.”
You just managed to smile, even though it was embarrassing. It was strange to hear his name coming out of someone else's mouth so easily. For years, his name was just an echo in your own mind, almost as if it were a fantasy of yours.
There were days when you managed to convince yourself of this, that Seokmin was nothing more than a dream.
“Are you just visiting or are you back to stay?”
“I'm staying” you said after a second, when you managed to find your voice again “I got a job here, I have nowhere to run”
Niah laughed and hugged you once again, tighter this time.
"Great, that makes me happy. We always miss you” Niah smiled and ran her fingers down your cheeks, brushing away some tears that were stubborn to fall “What do you want to eat? Today it's on the house. Consider it a welcome gift.”
You took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat and the remaining tears.
"What do you recommend?"
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The amazing thing about meeting Niah again was that she still acted exactly the same way. She didn't see you as someone who had simply packed a suitcase of clothes and left the country overnight. To Niah you were still that same person from 7 years ago who ate whatever she put in front of. You and Seokmin were always guinea pigs for all the new recipes.
The food was still wonderful, if anything it had just gotten better.
You had a fork halfway to your mouth when you heard the door open, the sound of the bell indicating the entry of a new customer. You almost instinctively turned to look. You choked on your own saliva when your eyes met Seokmin's.
It was as if you were back in the hallway that day. Your heart simply stopped, and the world fell into suspension. For a moment, it was as if you had been transported to the past. You were almost certain that if you looked at the table you would see books open next to the cutlery; you knew that if you looked at Seokmin for another second or two his face would break into the most beautiful smile, he would wave and call your name.
But your illusion shattered into small pieces as his neutral expression contorted into a frown. With the same foot he entered he turned to leave.
“Seokmin!” you called him, getting up from your chair.
Part of you thought he was going to continue out the door, but he stopped. Half of his body was outside the restaurant, the other inside.
“Hurry up and close that door!” Niah said leaving the kitchen “You’re letting out all the heat”
Even with Niah's voice calling him, Seokmin remained standing at the door. You sat back down, but without taking your eyes off him. He didn't know what he expected of him, but he felt an indescribable relief when Niah pulled him by the sleeve of his coat and forced him to sit in front of you.
“The restaurant is packed, so you will have to share a table” she said as she turned her back.
Seokmin shook his head, clearly against sitting there, staying in the restaurant, but he still took off his coat and hung it on the chair before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
It was clear he was working out, his shoulders had gotten broader and his arms bigger since you last saw each other. You almost laughed at the pose, remembering all the times you had seen him in a similar situation. But this wasn't the time to laugh when everything else was screaming that he was uncomfortable with the situation, that he didn't want to be there.
It didn't take a genius to know that Seokmin wanted nothing to do with you. His reaction to seeing you in the hallway the week before and the way he was looking at you in that moment were enough answers.
You felt like the walls were closing in around you and there wasn't enough air in the room.
What were you thinking when you called his name? What were you thinking when you silently watched Niah pull him inside? Why were you still sitting there?
A waiter who worked with Niah passed by your table and you called him discreetly, not wanting to attract the attention of the restaurant owner.
“Can you wrap everything to go, please?” you turned to Seokmin “You can have the table. I was already leaving”
It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.
Seokmin laughed lowly, scornfully, his sideways smile making the hair on your arms stand on end. In general, Seokmin has always been the type of guy who didn’t lose his cool easily, who would always rather let things go than have any kind of confrontation. But when he really got stressed out or nervous, it took a while for him to calm down again.
You had seen that storm in his eyes very few times in the years you spent together. The last one was when he went to the airport to say goodbye to you. That day the storm was just confusion and pain, you knew you had done that to him. But he sat there in the restaurant, in front of you, in silence while the people around him chatted animatedly, completely oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.
"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.
“Ah, nothing” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “It’s just like you to do that”
You narrowed your eyes at the same time you felt your cheeks get hot.
"Do what?"
"Runaway"
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Letter #4
Seokmin, 
It took me almost a year to convince myself that it was okay for me to look at social media. I convinced myself that every woman does this, that every now and then we look at our ex-boyfriend's Instagram, just to find out if his new girlfriend is ugly. I've told you this several times, but every female experience is universal.
I wish you were one of those low profile people, who post a picture every 6 months and it's a cut mango on a pretty plate. I wish you hadn't posted so many pictures. But more than anything, I wish I hadn't spent hours and hours looking at the photos. I wish I hadn't been analyzing every photo of you, I wish I hadn't thought “that's a new mole” and wondered which others had appeared since the last time we saw each other.
I had memorized every mole of yours. On your face, on your arms, on your back. On the worst days, when I missed you in a way that almost made me give up everything and go home, I kept remembering each one of them. I tried to remember the sound of your laugh, your voice, how you stroked my hair until I fell asleep when it wasn't a good day.
I keep wondering if one day this feeling will just go away.
It's been a year since I left. I went out with other guys, and I almost dated one of them, but you're always there in the back of my mind, almost comically because even against my will I can't help but compare them to you. I can't help but think that only you know how I like my coffee, how only you know that if I'm in my worst mood, there's no joke in the world that can make me laugh.
I know it's not fair to them. I gave you the chance to get to know me, I allowed you to get closer. I wanted you to come closer to me. Now I wonder if you're doing this for someone other than me.
I like to imagine that you also compare other women to me, that even now that you're dating I stay there, in the back of your mind, making fun of you.
Unfortunately, she's not ugly, but your smile was brighter when I was next to you.
yn.
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To say that Seokmin had spent the rest of the week in an envious mood was an understatement. He was stressed and everyone around him soon noticed the change. He really tried not to let his personal life get in the way of his work. It was something he never struggled with. Work was work, what happened when the lights went out and he left the radio should never cross paths with each other. That week, however, it was impossible.
Meeting you at the restaurant caught him off guard. That day in the college hallway had been difficult, but he managed to just keep walking as if nothing had happened. He liked to pretend like he hadn't gone out with Chan right after and drank like there was no tomorrow, like he hadn't opened the boxes he had kept for years and cried while looking at the photos of the two of you together.
He had gone to the restaurant that day because he needed some form of comfort and didn't want to call any of his friends because he knew he would end up telling them everything that happened and would receive advice and words he would rather not hear. The restaurant was the best idea he had. Or maybe the worst possible one.
Maybe he had done it consciously, because he wanted to see you one more time, and wanted to make sure he hadn't imagined you. It wouldn't have been the first time.
In the first few months after you left, Seokmin got into the habit of visiting places he went with you, or places you liked to go alone. It was probably a form of torture, but he liked to imagine it was a way to forget and overcome the breakup. On several of those days, he believed he saw you. He realistically knew it wasn't you, he clearly remembered seeing you get on the plane and waited until it took off to leave the airport.
The worst thing that could have happened to him was you calling for him. Seokmin couldn't help but wonder if he had always reacted that way to you, if your presence was always so great that before he even saw you he knew you were nearby. That day, as soon as he opened the door, before he even saw you sitting there with your eyes wide open, he knew. He knew you were there.
The last thing he expected from you was you saying his name, as if asking him to sit with you, that Niah, knowing how the relationship had ended, would have made him sit in front of you.
Seokmin noticed your discomfort, the way your spine had become a little straighter, the way your eyes were hard and cautious at the same time. Your reaction made him angry. What right did you have to behave that way, as if you were hurt when all the decisions regarding a relationship both of you were in had been made by you?
You were the one who signed up for a master's degree abroad. It was you who never told him about your decision. It was you who kept everything secret, making him believe that the two of you were on the same page and that despite your different goals, you would be able to pursue them together.
Turns out he was wrong, those dreams were just his and didn't include him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked for the thousandth time.
For the first time in a long time, Seokmin was having a hard time hiding how he really felt. That polished, carefully carved mask had fallen. It was a completely atypical day and everyone was able to notice his sudden change in mood. Even Chan, who normally did a great job of ignoring all the problems around him and focusing solely on his work, seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.
“It’s really obvious, isn’t it?” Seokmin asked in a low voice and Chan just nodded "And if I pretend it's because of the new segment, will anyone believe it?"
Again, Chan nodded. Since he had started the program, 3 years before, Seokmin would receive calls and speak directly to listeners. Although there were always interactions, those were always done through live chat and email when he received questions or stories from people who were not listening to the program when it was airing.
Seokmin wasn't nervous about the idea, he was actually excited. Chan knew this and knew that whatever the problem was, it was still the same as the day of the lecture. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to seem invasive, but he still wanted to make sure Seokmin was okay — or at least, well enough to do the program.
“I think everyone is already thinking that” was a lie and even Seokmin knew it, but he was grateful.
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“You may already know this, but today we will start a new segment. We'll call it the heart to heart helpline, at least until we find a better name at least” Seokmin's voice and laugh resonated through the taxi “We'll take your calls and some of you will be able to talk to me and ask your questions live, instead of by chat. Each person will have a maximum of 2 minutes and we will answer 6 calls today”
You had left the house completely willing to avoid anything related to Seokmin. Realistically, you knew you couldn't do anything about the billboards and his face at bus stops, but you could very well avoid his radio show. And for a few weeks you had managed to do just that.
That day at the restaurant had almost been a cathartic moment. Somehow, it was as if something had clicked and fallen into place. The Seokmin you left behind no longer existed. It had been a naive thought to think so. You didn't expect that he would still be exactly the same person, of course not. Seven years had passed and Seokmin, like you, was approaching his thirties. Obviously, many things had changed, but you still expected to see traces of that 22-year-old boy you had known and loved.
You didn't spend more than five minutes with him at that table. And it was much more than enough. He had accused you of running away, of continuing to do this for years. Of course, that could be his view on everything, but it was never your intention. The only problem was that you hadn't been able to tell him those things. You had been so lost and so completely helpless in front of him that you had forgotten that you knew how to speak and form sentences.
You had spent years of your life writing letters to him, letters that he would never read, but that was beside the point. You wrote letters as a way to appease the emptiness you felt in your heart. You never, not for a second, thought you were running away. You never wanted to run away, but Seokmin seemed to believe you did.
In a sudden burst of anger, you took your phone out of your bag and dialed the number Seokmin spoke on the radio. You didn't expect your call to go through. In fact, you didn't even know what you expected.
“Please wait a minute, we will connect your call” a non-robotic voice said as you paid for the taxi.
Seokmin was still chatting animatedly with a listener who didn't have a real question, but who “just wanted to say that I really liked your show and that I’m a fan.” It was impossible not to roll your eyes. If she, and everyone else, knew how much of a complete asshole he could be just because he had the opportunity, they would never want to see his face again.
Or maybe they would team up against you in favor of the immaculate Seokmin. God knew how easily a man could turn public opinion in his favor with a beautiful smile. And God was also a witness that Seokmin's smile was simply wonderful, one that took your breath away, one that made you smile along because it was contagious.
“Welcome to the heart to heart helpline” Seokmin’s voice sounded in your ear “What’s your question?”
You didn't really think that your call would get through to Seokmin, you didn't think the signal would be good enough inside the elevator, but none of that seemed to be a problem.
“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You knew you were going really crazy, but you decided to throw caution out the window and be the crazy person everyone used to believe you were.
“Yes, I’m here” you could have sworn, that even over the phone, you felt Seokmin tense up “It’s a question about an old relationship, we broke up years ago, if that’s okay”
You struggled with your keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. You needed to get to your computer or tablet, whichever was closer. It was almost a physical necessity to see Seokmin's reaction to your voice, your question.
You always knew how to tell if he was truly calm or if he was masking what he was feeling. You wanted to know if you still had any other sort of effect on him. Whatever it was, it was better than angry disdain.
“Old relationships should stay in the past, don’t you think?” he finally said.
You nodded as you ran into your room. You knew you would find the tablet under your pillow — you were sure that if your mother saw it she would say that your brain would explode due to the radiation from the device. With a few taps, you opened the stream of Seokmin's program.
“I think so. But the problem is that we keep seeing each other. I don’t think it’s something either of us want, but it seems inevitable.”
You turned the sound off, you just wanted to focus on his reactions. Seokmin swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed on the microphone in front of him. To anyone, it just seemed like he was concentrating on the call, on what the person on the other end of the line had to say, but you knew very well that it was to hide his reactions.
"Your question?"
“Well, he called me selfish and said I ran away when we broke up, but that's not exactly what happened. I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he wants to listen to me.”
Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.
“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”
“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"
“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”
You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.
You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,
“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”
“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt,  like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”
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Letter #5
Seokmin
I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.
But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.
But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.
But it's not like that for me or for you.
I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.
I'm going crazy, aren't I?
It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.
What am I still doing?
yn
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Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.
Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.
Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.
“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.
“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.
Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.
Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.
Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control. 
He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.
He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.
Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.
When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.
Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.
You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.
Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.
You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.
"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.
Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.
He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.
It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.
One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.
“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.
You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.
“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”
How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.
It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.
“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.
You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.
In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.
You never quite managed to do that.
“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”
You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.
“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”
“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”
Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.
Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.
“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.
The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.
That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.
“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”
You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.
“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.
“You always wanted to have a radio show”
“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”
You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.
“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.
“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”
Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.
“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”
You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.
You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.
“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”
Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.
Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.
“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”
You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.
“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”
You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.
Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.
“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”
Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks. 
At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.
To hell with his plan.
Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple. 
You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him. 
Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.
“Seokmin, I…”
He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him. 
“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said. 
You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire. 
You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again. 
His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before. 
He smiled over your skin. 
“At least this hasn’t changed”
It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.
“Where’s your room?”
You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor. 
Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side. 
“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck. 
“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”
Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed. 
It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn. 
It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again. 
Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful. 
Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker. 
He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.
Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time. 
He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes. 
He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then. 
"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant. 
Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically. 
You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again. 
I love you,  the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once. 
Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.
You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it. 
"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.
Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him. 
"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"
All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you. 
Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.
"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"
To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you. 
Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place. 
"Seokmin... harder"
And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room. 
Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much. 
You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side. 
Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair. 
"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him. 
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Letter #6
Seokmin,
I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.
I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.
Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.
I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.
We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.
You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.
Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.
But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.
I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.
You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?
The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.
Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.
Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?
yn
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Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.
You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.
When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.
You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.
You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.
You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.
There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.
One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.
At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.
You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.
Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.
The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.
Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.
Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.
It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.
There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.
Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.
You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.
The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.
“Say it again, but this time looking at me”
You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.
“Your nose is beautiful”
You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.
“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”
The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.
Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.
It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.
Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.
When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.
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The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.
All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.
The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.
You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.
Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.
And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.
It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.
The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.
You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.
You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.
A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.
“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.
You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.
You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.
You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.
Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.
“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.
“Let me give you a ride”
You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.
“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”
“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”
You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.
"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”
You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.
“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”
You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.
Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.
When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.
Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.
Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.
After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.
He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.
He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home. 
Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.
Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.
The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.
After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.
Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.
“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.
His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.
You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.
“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”
“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”
You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.
“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”
Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.
“I know, I read your letters”
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Seokmin,
It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.
I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well,  again.
As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.
But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.
You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.
I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.
It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.
I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.
I love you.
yn
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