#oldest prompt that's been waiting for me
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Cute, shippy starters: 46) “Hey, have you seen the..? *Oh.*”
Devi loved cats, for the most part. Having grown up in the Lower City, stray cats had been all over the place; and most of them, after some obligatory introductory hissing, seemed to tolerate the little half-Elf thief well enough. Some had even learned that, if they were friendly enough, Devi might share her food scraps with them while she waited for her next mark. It hadn't been uncommon for Devi to have a cat curled up beside her while she had sat on a roof ledge, or prowling around her legs while she'd scoped out a new target. Her father would never have let her keep one for a pet, but she enjoyed giving scritches and pets where she could to the stray animals.
And then there was Tara.
Devi supposed her first mistake had been referring to Tara as “Gale's tressym” – she'd immediately gotten hissed at for that. She hadn't made the same mistake again, but Tara seemed to not ever forget a grudge. Even after Devi had come home with Gale to Waterdeep, Tara had regarded the thief with aloof suspicion. She was incredibly different from the normal cats Devi had grown used to, and even with regular usage of a potion to let her speak with animals, the two regularly butted heads.
She knew it caused Gale distress, that the woman he loved and the tressym he adored seemed to be permanently at odds. “Was she like this with Mystra too?” she had asked one day, watching Tara fly in pursuit of a hapless pigeon.
Gale had snorted. “Given how Mystra and I ended, and the sixth sense that animals have about such things, I like to think Tara would have tried to claw her eyes out if they'd ever met.” He'd smiled and given Devi a kiss on the temple. “I'm sure she'll warm up to you eventually. She's just… cautious with new people.”
That had been well over a tenday ago, and Devi still wasn't sure how long ‘eventually’ was supposed to last.
She sat in her favourite chair in Gale's tower, idly plucking at the strings on her violin. Gale himself was out today – he'd been summoned to some sort of meeting with another wizard, and the tone of the invitation had made it clear that Devi wasn't invited. Honestly, Gale had been more offended at the entire matter than she'd been. She'd sent him on his way with a kiss and a promise that she wouldn't find any mischief in his absence. And so far, she'd been good to her word, reading one of his many books and coming up with a new melody to play on the violin.
She sighed, looking out the window for a moment, then winced as her stomach lurched threateningly. Apparently whatever stomach flu she had somehow picked up (that Gale had dodged. Lucky bastard of a wizard.) was still not fully out of her system. And that had been the other reason Gale had been reluctant to go to this meeting with his colleague – he was worried about her, after the last four days of her waking up sick and struggling to keep anything she ate down.
Maybe it was the coffee he had introduced her to. Devi wrinkled her nose in thought. That was something she had never been introduced to as a poor Baldurian thief – perhaps the rich, stimulant brew was the cause of her–
Her eyes went wide, and she barely had time to set her violin on the table and grab an empty pail before her stomach violently rejected the two pieces of toasted bread and the banana she'd eaten less than an hour ago.
Wincing as her stomach eventually stopped revolting, she spat into the bucket, then shakily stood up, intent on finding water to rinse her mouth out before disposing of the vomited meal. “Fucking hells,” she mumbled, scowling down at her stomach. “Are you done yet?”
“Tsk, tsk,” said a voice behind Devi, one that made her jump. “Mr. Dekarios will not be pleased to learn that you're still ill.” With a flutter of her wings, Tara jumped up onto the table, regarding Devi with a stern look. “Had I thumbs, I would make you drink some tea.”
“Gale's been trying with the tea,” Devi said, finding a carafe of water in the kitchen and swishing a mouthful around to get the taste of bile out of her mouth. She spat into the bucket, still feeling Tara's eyes on her. “I think it helps a little bit?”
Tara lowly growled, then jumped to the counter. “Here,” she said, standing up on her hind legs to paw at a rack of herbs. “Mr. Dekarios keeps ginger up in this rack, and that should help with human – or half-Elf – nausea.”
“... Thank you.” Devi approached the counter, reaching around the fluffy head and wings to grab the large ginger root. Finding where Gale kept his kitchen knives, she carefully cut off a thin slice of the ginger, then put it in her mouth, wrinkling her nose at the strong taste. “Please work,” she mumbled as she put the rest of the root away, then moved to clean off the knife. She knew how particular Gale was with his knives.
Tara sat on the counter, tail swishing as she watched the thief clean and return the knife to its block. “I know you haven't been sleeping either,” the tressym said, “what with constantly waking up sick the last few nights. Go lie down.”
Devi frowned at the idea of taking orders from the winged cat. “I'm honestly all right,” she started to say. “I don't feel–”
She blinked as a paw batted at her arm. “You clearly are not all right,” Tara scolded. “And I'll not have Mr. Dekarios fretting over if you're getting enough rest while you’re so obviously ill. He's made it quite clear that he cares a great deal about you.” The tressym shifted her weight, then jumped onto Devi’s shoulders, making her stagger with a little grunt at the weight of a heavy winged cat perching on her. “To bed with you, Deviali.”
“It’s Devi,” the thief muttered. “What about if I just sit and read or–”
Tara growled threateningly.
Devi sighed, admitting defeat. “Fine, I’m going.” She wouldn’t ever admit it to Tara, but she was tired, after four mornings of waking up sick before the time that she and Gale normally got up. And it was impossible to quietly vomit, as she’d figured out the hard way – Gale was always at her side within a minute of her lunging out of bed, holding her hair back and looking at her with open concern in his eyes. “What do you care about me?” the half-Elf asked the tressym as she started making her way to the bedroom, with a longing glance at her violin. “You don’t seem to like me as it is.”
Seemingly noticing which way Devi’s eyes went, Tara lightly smacked the side of her face with her paw to make her focus on going to bed. “My opinions are moot. Mr. Dekarios adores you, which means that it becomes my duty to look after you like I do him. I’ve looked after that wizard since he was a boy – I’m not about to fly off because he picked you.” She settled across the back of Devi’s neck, like an oversized, winged scarf. “And if I don’t look after you, then it becomes the dog’s job to tend to you, and he is not a suitable caretaker.”
“Scratch is perfectly fine,” Devi protested, obligated to defend what she had come to think of as ‘her’ dog since the day he’d shown up in camp. “And he doesn’t try to nursemaid me or anything–”
“My point exactly. You’re obviously ill, and dogs, while loyal, do not understand taking care of two-legged creatures with no self-preservation instincts.”
“... I have perfectly fine self-preservation instincts,” Devi grumbled as she entered the bedroom and sat down on her side of the bed.
“That’s not the impression I got from hearing Mr. Dekarios’ stories about you during your little adventure,” Tara disagreed. She hopped down from Devi’s shoulders, then settled on the thief’s lap, giving her a pointed look. “If I have to make you lie down…”
Devi thought about arguing with the cat, then saw Tara warningly flex her front paws, revealing sharp claws under her fur, and thought better of it. “I can’t believe I just lost an argument with you,” she complained, laying down and curling up on her side.
Tara’s tail twitched in an almost smug manner. “Please feel free to ask Mr. Dekarios why he doesn’t pick fights with me anymore.” She climbed up onto Devi’s hip and started kneading the half-Elf through her trousers. “Ugh, you’re far too thin still. Is Mr. Dekarios not feeding you sufficiently?”
“If Gale could feed me himself, he would,” Devi muttered. “It’s hard to eat when everything he makes, no matter how good, keeps coming back up.”
“If you wake up sick again tomorrow,” Tara mused, “I’m going to have to tell him to fetch a cleric or visit an apothecary. Then again, perhaps he’ll bring something home tonight for you to feel better.” She jumped down to the mattress and, to Devi’s surprise, curled up against the thief’s stomach. “You are not to move from this bed until Mr. Dekarios returns home this evening, and you do not want to know what the consequences will be if you disobey me. Are we understood?”
“I’m being bullied into taking a nap by a tressym,” Devi groused, and promptly got batted by one of Tara’s wings. “Ow!”
“Somebody has to ensure that you rest and recover, if you’re not going to look after yourself.” Tara’s vivid eyes met Devi’s without blinking. “Now, I will allow you to offer scratches to my ears, just this once. Do not get used to it.”
Devi eyed the tressym for a moment, then slowly reached to slowly pet the top of Tara’s head, rubbing behind her ears. She was quickly rewarded with the low rumble of a pleased purr, vibrating against her stomach. Despite the half-Elf’s reluctance to take a nap, the feeling of curling up in bed with a large cat – or tressym – snuggled up against her upset stomach did feel very soothing. She sighed, then let her eyes drift closed, and felt Tara’s purring grow a little louder, as though the tressym approved. “You’re still the worst,” she muttered.
“Likewise, Deviali,” Tara smugly said, her purring never stopping. “Go to sleep.”
“It’s Devi,” the thief grumbled, even if part of her knew that the tressym would always use her despised full name, until the day Devi married Gale and took his last name for her own. Then it would probably become “Mrs. Dekarios”.
That actually has a nice ring to it, she thought as she felt herself slowly drift away into sleep, lulled by the sounds of Tara's purring.
—
Gale frowned slightly as he entered his tower, expecting to be greeted on his return home. The only lifeform to welcome him was Scratch, curled up by the fireplace; the dog looked up and thumped his tail against the floor, tongue lolling out of his mouth happily. “Where’s Devi, hmm?” the wizard asked, kneeling to give the dog a scratch behind the ears.
Scratch wuffed, then set his head back down on his front paws. “Upstairs,” he said – Gale, once again, was grateful for the spell that let him speak with animals. “She’s been upstairs with Tara all day.”
That got a small wince from Gale – he almost wondered if there had been bloodshed in his home during his absence. “Good boy, Scratch,” he said, standing back up and making his way through the tower. It was suspiciously quiet in his residence: no Tara trotting or flying up to see him with a meow of greeting, no sounds of Devi playing her violin, no pretty half-Elf emerging from a doorway with a smile on her face to see her betrothed. He sighed, wondering if Devi and Tara had managed to kill each other while he’d been stuck all day with his wizarding colleagues. “Devi?” he lowly called out. “Tara?”
No sign of Tara anywhere – perhaps she was out hunting pigeons again. But Devi should have been here. Gale poked his head into the common room, then into his study – no sign of his favourite thief in either room, besides the violin resting on a table beside the window. Perhaps the bedroom, then? Gods knew that she hadn’t been resting well, with waking up sick every morning the past few days. He could only pray that the potions in his satchel, purchased from the apothecary only an hour ago, would cure whatever was wrong with her. He approached the bedroom door, only slightly ajar, and gently pushed it open. “Have you seen –” he started to say as he looked in – a second later, he went silent, his eyes softening. “Oh.”
On the bed, Tara looked up from where she was curled against a sleeping Devi, the tip of her tail swishing before her nose. “Not a word from you about this compromising position,” she quietly said, ears tilting back slightly. “It was the only way to make sure she rested. She was ill again this afternoon while you were gone.”
“Again?” Gale frowned worriedly as he sat on the edge of the bed; Tara stood up and stretched, then climbed up onto his shoulders, curling up around his neck and purring away. “Thank you for looking after her, Tara – I know you disapprove of her, but I love her.”
“I know you do. And it is good to see you happy with her, Mr. Dekarios.” Tara carefully adjusted her wings so she wouldn’t hit Gale in the back of the head with the large appendages. “She’s slept the last two hours after being ill again. You did stop at an apothecary for something to cure her, yes?”
“I did – and I’ve been assured that the potions I bought should fix anything.” The wizard carefully leaned down to Devi’s face, pressing gentle kisses over her forehead, her eyes, her cheek. “Hello, my love,” he murmured as Devi started to stir. “Did you sleep well?”
Devi’s eyes slowly opened as she looked up at Gale; her lips pulled up in a smile once she recognized him. “Hey, you,” she quietly said, reaching up to kiss him. “Welcome home.”
Gale smiled fondly as he returned Devi’s kiss, stroking his hand through her long hair. “And it feels the most like home when you’re here to grace it with your presence,” he softly chuckled. “Are you feeling better? Tara mentioned you were ill again.”
“Traitor,” Devi muttered, frowning up at the smug tressym, before slowly sitting up. “I… think I’m all right? At least for–” She froze, eyes widening as her hand settled on her stomach. “... Shit.”
Instinct had Gale stand up and get the hell out of Devi’s way, a second before she was on her feet and fleeing to the water closet. He frowned, worry becoming full-fledged anxiety as he started fishing around in his satchel for a potion. “Tara, can you stay with her for another minute while I get her some water?”
Tara was off his shoulders and flying after Devi almost before he’d finished speaking. “Do hurry, Mr. Dekarios,” she called back. “I am not an expert on half-Elves, but something is certainly wrong.”
#bg3 fic#bg3#post-epilogue#gale of waterdeep#gale x tav#gale dekarios#Deviali#tara the tressym#tara was fun to write#her and devi bickering pleases me#as much as Tara being a reluctant mother to Devi#also... oh Devi that isn't a stomach flu you've got going on#for the record#this has been sitting in my inbox since 11 November 2017#oldest prompt that's been waiting for me#Kel answers prompts a million years later#Kel writes
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Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list
I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!
"Vok" (Perfect)
Aemond Targaryen x sister reader
Word count: 2.6k+
About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.
Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink
Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️
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To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.
To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.
To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.
To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector.
Your secret.
A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.
The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?
Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.
Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.
Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.
-
The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection.
“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”
“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.
“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.
Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”
“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.
“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”
“W-what?”
He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”
“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”
A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him.
You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.
“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”
A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”
He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”
Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.
“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”
Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.
“Yes, what?”
Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.
Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.
“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.
“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”
You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain.
“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”
It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”
It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”
You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.
Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”
You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.
“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.”
Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.
“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More.
Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”
“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.
As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.
“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement.
You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.
“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”
Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.
Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.
“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”
Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.
With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”
And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing.
Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.
Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight.
“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”
As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.
To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”
You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”
In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.
You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.
His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.
You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily.
He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.
You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.
Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”
Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.
-
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🪷 hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time, with luke Hughes! his older sister and he just needs his sisters comfort especially after how the devils have played and how tired luke has looked
౨ৎ Ice cream and much-needed hugs
﹕─┈ pairings ( Luke Hughes x older sister! reader )
°. — summary ( Luke’s been having a tough time, and his big sister just wants to cheer him up ! )
°. — details ( g; little bit of angst, some fluff. w; none that I know of wc; 2.2k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them right without saying any words when they’re having a hard time
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( LUKEY AHHH MY LOVE ! I love Luke sm if you guys didn’t know !!! I love writing sibling dynamics so muchhhh so thank you for sending the wonderful request !!! I absolutely loved writing it, I really tried to make it angsty but i think I’m terrible at writing angst, I’m sorry if the ending is kinda rushed, I was struggling sooo bad with the dialogue . . . also I of course had to add the love of my Like Brock boeser in it because like DUHHH I am so down for writing more for a older Hughes sister, I’m thinking she’s like 25??? I really hope you guys love it !!! Let me know if you want me to write more for older sister Hughes! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s !!! )
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There were a lot of upsides that came with being the oldest sibling, there were of course a lot of downsides too . . . but you chose to ignore those and focus on the upsides. Like being able to stay up later while your brothers had to go to sleep, having a good sense of leadership and responsibility, being able to read your brothers like a picture book.
So, you knew right away that something was wrong with your youngest brother as you watched him play in the last period. You could see it clearly in his demeanor and the way he was skating, he was starting to overthink things, he had gotten into his own head. You of course had seen the way the public and media was shitting on your brother because he's made a few bad plays, and it broke your heart to see how defeated he looked sitting on that bench.
Jack had voiced his worries about Luke to you over the phone a few days ago when you were out with Quinn and your boyfriend brock. Even with hundreds of miles between you and Luke you could tell something was bothering him, that's why your planned trip to visit your younger brothers this weekend was even more meaningful.
You were leaning against the wall as you waited for your brothers to leave the locker room, your focus was down on your phone as you texted your boyfriend. A smile on your lips, you missed him dearly even though you have only been gone for almost two days. “Sis!” you heard the familiar sound of jack's voice call your name. You look up from your phone and smile as Jack rushes over to you and pulls you into a tight hug.
“You played so well jack” You mumbled into his neck, cursing at the curse of being the oldest but the shortest. Jack smiles and gives you one more squeeze before letting go and taking a step back, even though they lost he wasn't going to let that bring him down from the fact that you watched him play in person for the first time in a few months.
“Thank you, luke should be out soon, he's just being a little hard on himself” Jack sighed as he glanced back at the locker room entrance, there was only so much he could say to let luke know that he's doing okay. You let out a sigh and nodded, already getting an image of a pouty luke. Your eyes lit up with an idea, as a memory from years ago popped up in your mind. You smile at Jack as you ask “Do you think you can get a ride home? And can I have the keys to your truck?”
“Uh yeah why?” Jack questioned with a raised brow as he pulled out his keys from his front pocket and handed them to you. You smiled gratefully and grabbed the keys and slid them into your front pocket with your lip gloss. “I have an idea on how to cheer luke up.”
“Well good luck, cause I can't handle a grumpy luke anymore '' Jack jokes as he pats you on the shoulder, happy that you were now here to save him from the grumpy luke. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest as you look at jack “I remember saying the same thing about you.”
“Have fun! I'm gonna go catch up with nico "Jack grins as he chooses to ignore your words, placing a quick kiss to your forehead before rushing off down the hallway, turning to look at you quickly and shouting out an ‘i love you’ before turning the corner and leaving your sight. You look forward just in time to see Luke walk out of the locker room, well more like trudge. His steps were heavy, and you can see the exhaustion on his face. His shoulders were sagged as he carried his backpack, he was changed out of his suit and into some sweats and a hoodie. He looked like a sad cat. When Luke noticed you, his heavy steps turned into long strides as he moved towards you.
Before you could open your mouth to greet your brother, he was throwing his arms over shoulders and nestling his head in the crook of your head, for a much-needed hug. Your eyes widened at how tight Luke was holding you, but you close your eyes and wrap your arms around your little brother, softly rubbing his back with one of your hands. Luke closed his eyes and tried to shut off his mind as he felt himself melt into the comfort and safety of your arms.
You rested your chin on his shoulder as you whispered, “You, okay?” you felt him nod yes but the both of you knew he was lying. Luke let out a deep breath and reluctantly pulled away from the hug when his back was starting to hurt from leaning down for so long. You smiled up at him, brushing some of his curls out of his face as he asked, “Where's jack?”
“Oh, he's getting a ride home with nico, so come on lukey I'm taking you out tonight!” You excitedly pull-out Jack's keys and wave them while your other hand is grabbing Luke's arm and dragging him along you as you make your way down the hallway. Luke gave you an unimpressed look even though on the inside he was excited to spend more time with you “I’m not old enough to go bar hopping.”
“Is that really all you think I do in Vancouver?” You gasped dramatically as you pretended to be hurt from his words. You have one embarrassing experience when you go bar hopping, and now that's all anyone remembers, you think with a roll of your eyes. Luke felt the corner of his lips lift into a smile at your dramatics, Jack definitely got that from you.
“Besides I'm a good big sister, I wouldn't provide my underage brother with alcohol, at least in public” you joked as you wrapped your arm around Luke's, holding on tight. Luke chuckles and slips his hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, comforting silence coming across them as they make their way to Jack's truck.
“Need help? '' Luke asked sarcastically as he put on his seatbelt, his eyes on you as you struggled slightly to get into the truck. You gave him a quick glare before closing the door and putting on your seatbelt, quickly starting the truck, wanting to leave the arena before the traffic got even worse. You turned up the volume on the radio, an unfamiliar country song filling up the silent car. Luke let out a heavy sigh and relaxed into the seat, looking out the window and all the passing lights.
The car ride to your choice of destination was filled with mostly silence between you and Luke, just enjoying the music and the faint sound of the world around them. You could see that Luke had a lot on his mind and you didn't want to pressure him into talking about it, so you stayed quiet, knowing that he would tell you when he's ready. Luke couldn't help but replay every single one of his mistakes he's made in the past few games, remembering every tweet he saw from disappointed ‘fans’.
Luke could feel himself become more upset and discouraged the more he thought about it, so Luke quickly glanced at you before looking back out the window. Luke was slightly confused on how well you knew your way around the town, he was curious on where you were taking him. But he gave up on asking after the third time you told him it was a surprise.
Luke’s eyes widen with excitement when he sees where you're pulling into, it was an old ice cream shop that he had driven by many times, but never had the chance to try it. You smiled and turned off the car and grabbed your wallet from your purse and gave Luke a big smile “Come on, I'll even let you get 3 scoops!”
You laugh as you watch Luke quickly leave the truck and rush around the front of the truck to open your door. You giggle and take Luke's hand that he held out for you, doing your best to do a posh British accent “Thank you kind sir” Luke smiles and closes the door for you, following you across the parking lot, his spirit was lifted already.
“This is so good; how did you find this place?” Luke asked you before he took another lick of his chocolate ice cream, of course having a waffle cone. And despite you saying he could get 3 scoops, he only got 2. You look away from your bowl of your favorite ice cream and to your brothers whose focus was up at the stars. The two of you were sitting on the tailgate of the truck, neither of you realizing that your legs were swinging in unison.
“Oh, I found it the last time I came to visit, and you and Jack were at practice, I've been craving it since” you answered him as you looked back on the day. Luke nods and continues to eat his ice cream. Silence came across the two of you again, Luke didn't know what to say and you could see the way his shoulders became tense that he was thinking of something. You had a pretty good idea what he was thinking about, hockey.
“You played really good tonight luke” you broke the silence, and you watched as his shoulders sagged and a frown came across his lips as he looked down at his lap. You hated seeing how discouraged he looked, this wasn't like luke. He never let it get to him like this before, but it's different . . . it's the NHL, it's his dream. He whispered bitterly “We lost.”
“You still played really good, i'm really proud of you luke” you vowed as you gently nudged his knee with yours, your tone proving how genuine you were. You were a good big sister you liked to think, so you would never have a favorite brother . . . but your little brother Luke will always have a special place in your heart. The little brother who would listen to you rant all about your school drama while the other two were doing God knows what, the little brother who fully trusted you to drive him to get ice cream when you first got your license while Quinn and jack swore you would kill them. Your sweet little brother Luke who was far too good for this world.
Luke let out a heavy breath and his eyes started to water as he listened to you, he heard others say they were proud of him, but it was different, more meaningful coming from you. Unlike you he made it very clear that you're his favorite sibling, that you always have been. The big sister that he always knew would have his back no matter what, the big sister that always was on his side. He looked up from his lap and turned his head to look at you to see you were already smiling at him. “Thank you sissy.”
“Not just for the compliment” Luke quickly spoke before you could, fully turning his body to face you, thankfully he had eaten most of his ice cream, so he didn't have to worry about it dripping. Luke never really liked talking about his emotions or just having deep conversations in general, but he didn't have to worry about any of that with his big sister who always made it clear that he could talk to you no matter what. Luke continues speaking “But for taking me here and for being here for me, for always being here for me.”
“I'll always be here lukey” You promised as you set your ice cream bowl next to you before leaning over and pulling Luke into a much-needed hug. Luke smiles and closes his eyes, hugging you with one arm while the other holds his cone away from you, not wanting to get any ice cream on you. Luke lets himself melt into the hug; he really didn't want you to leave. You couldn't help tearing up as you think of Luke and everything he's been through and how strong he is, you really are so proud of your little . . . well not so little brother. You sniffled and whispered, “God why did you have to grow up so fast.”
“Trying to catch up with you, you old lady” Luke jokes, wanting to lift the mood, he really hated seeing you cry, and he knew you so well that he was sure you were going to. A loud laugh leaves his lips as you pull away from the hug and dramatically move away from him. Despite his words you smiled as you listened to luke laugh, it was the type of laugh that made you want to join in. You pulled the keys out of your pocket and slap them into luke's hand before jumping off the tailgate of the truck and snatching your ice cream “That's it your driving home.”
Luke continued to laugh and watch as you stomp over to the passenger seat, the famous Hughes pout on your lips. Luke quickly gets off the bed of the truck and puts up the tailgate shouting a cheeky remark that only made him laugh harder at the quick glare you sent him.
“Thank God! Brock drives you around so much I'm pretty sure you forgot how to drive”
°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 )
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midnight rain | lsm
pairing: seokmin x f!reader
genre: angst, smut, a little bit of fluff
word count: 17k
summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way.
warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, oral, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this)
a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested the dearest @ressonancee. but also, it's part of svt ans songs from midnights. i just wrote two in one and something that was supposed to be short became this monster. i hope i wrote seokmin in a way you'll like it.
prompt: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do."
Seokmin ➝ Midnight Rain
He was sunshine, I was midnight rain
↳ it was the oldest story in the world, the bright boy fell for the grumpy girl.
Letter #1
Seokmin,
You know, I've always been very proud of not being a very attached person. I've always been proud that I can put myself first and second, because I know I need to do it, because I know that no one else will do it for me. So, when I came here and dropped everything I had, I thought it would be a lot easier than it actually is.
When I turn around in bed at night, after days of trying to get used to the time zone and weeks to the weather and the people here — which are both bad and for completely different reasons, nothing is like in the movies — I always hope to find you there by my side and being able to snuggle up to you like I always did. I wake up in the morning and make enough coffee for two people and take two mugs out of the cupboard, and only then do I realize I'm alone here. I don't need two mugs and I made too much coffee. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I find myself typing your number, which I have memorized despite the fact that no one remembers phone numbers, because phones exist for a reason.
You have no idea how much I miss you and what I would do to be able to hear your voice again. I would do anything, I swear I could. But I know I no longer have that right. I know that what I did is unforgivable and although I want your forgiveness, I hope you never forget what I did to you.
You were still good to me on the last day. You took me to the airport, you said goodbye to me, you hugged me tight like you know I like it and you did your best not to shed a tear in front of me.
Every now and then I catch myself thinking that I messed up. I could have done my master's where we graduated, I didn't need to move to the other side of the world and leave the life I knew behind. But at the same time, I accept it. Coming here was my dream, it was always what I dreamed of even when you were by my side as well. And maybe that's why I never told you about the application, about being approved. Maybe I waited until the end, until the very last second to tell you because I knew you were the only one capable of changing my mind.
When I was by your side, I started to dream of a different life, a life that had you at all times and in all aspects. But, as you may have already noticed, I chose my first dream.
I know I won't regret it. I can't afford to regret it. You’ll become who you always wanted to be and I’ll be there to give you a standing ovation. Not there, next to you, but from afar.
yn
“That was Sunday Morning, by Hong Joshua. Ah, whenever I hear this song I remember my college days. I've said this here a few times, and I think I sound like a broken record by this point, but Joshua and I went to the same college and he was always singing this song in the hallways. Any small gathering between friends he would pull out the guitar and sing. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to this song at least once a week for the next year. Or until he releases the next one.”
Seokmin looked at the monitor to his right as a pre-recorded commercial for the next show started. The comments were going up too quickly, which made reading them an almost impossible mission.
On the other side of the glass, Chan made a sign indicating that the commercial was over. Seokmin looked at his friend as he lowered one finger after another and finally pointed at him. Chan placed a sheet of paper, which was always used, against the glass, which said “last, chat”. Indicating that he still had one more question to answer.
“We have time for one more question” Seokmin said, opening the internal chat he used with the other radio employees and read the question that Chan had sent “I ended a relationship of almost four years a few months ago, but I still can't understand what happened. I haven't even returned his things yet. How do I get in touch saying I want to return it?”
Seokmin swallowed. He knew that Chan hadn't done it on purpose, that he had no way of knowing everything that had happened between him and you, but he hated how much the question resonated in his head. It was a feeling he shared and for him it had been a little worse because you lived together during your last year of college. So when he entered the house and saw all the furniture, the decorations, your clothes still in the closet, it was like entering a time machine. In that 30 square meter space, for a few minutes, you still hadn't left.
He took a deep breath, away from the microphone so the sound wouldn't be picked, and leaned forward.
“It's a difficult question, really. If it's been a few months and he still hasn't picked his things up, it's because he doesn't need them, so I don't think you should bother contacting him. Hmmm”
He bit his lip and rested his elbows on the table, thinking if he should continue talking or if it would be better to stop there. Seokmin always thought it was better not to let personal feelings show on the radio, but he had moments when he couldn't follow his own rules.
“I can tell you from experience that sometimes silence is better. Because if you know the truth, it could hurt you even more. When I was in a similar situation, after a while I simply discarded the person's belongings. At first, it will be difficult, because you’ll see that shirt you gave as a gift, that letter you wrote and remember what it meant, the moment you gave those things to him. But little by little you will achieve it. Don't feel obligated to just move on when you're not ready. People will always tell you that it's about time, that it's been so many weeks or months. You’re the one who knows about your feelings.”
Chan knocked on the glass again, almost desperate because Seokmin's answer had been too long. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost in what he was saying and maybe had been talking in circles. It always happened that he remembered you when he answered a question.
And in that specific question he was being a hypocrite because he knew that if he opened his closet, deep inside it, he would find at least two boxes full of your things hidden. He rarely went near those boxes, he liked to pretend they didn't exist and most days he managed to achieve that thought. But there were other days…
“So we come to the end of another Cupid's Corner with Minnie. See you again next week. Cupid’s Corner with Minnie: Unveiling Love’s Melody, One Relationship at a Time!”
Seokmin removed his headphones, stood up, and waved at the cameras he knew were pointed at him. He grabbed his phone and the bottle of water he always carried with him. The red light above the door finally went out and Seokmin left the studio.
Immediately, Chan appeared beside him. He had just gone blond, and it strangely suited him.
He knew the youngest was desperate, not that he was doing a good job of hiding it. The disheveled hair, pointing in all directions, also helped a lot.
“You’re going to have a heart attack if you continue like this” Seokmin said laughing.
Chan was the newest employee, handpicked by Seokmin a few months before. Seokmin needed someone to help him organize the broadcasts after his previous assistant quit because she had gotten a job in the field she had studied. Seokmin even talked to her and offered a higher salary that would come out of his own pocket, but nothing seemed to help. Not that he blamed her, in her place he would have done the same thing. But in the position he was in, changes made him uncomfortable so he did what he could to make sure everything stayed the same.
Maybe it was trauma.
“It’s because they yell at me, not you.”
One of the reasons Seokmin chose Chan as his new assistant was his sincerity. In the middle of the interview he “I think there are things in your program that need to change” and started listing things that he thought were dated or ideas that had been used too much and therefore didn't have the same effect on listeners. The others had found him presumptuous as if he wanted to know more than those who worked at the radio. Seokmin disagreed and that's how Chan got the job.
“They yell at you because you’re the new guy, no one yelled at Jiah”
Chan made a sound in the back of his throat, like a scoff.
“That's because everyone was afraid of her” Seokmin rolled his eyes and reached for the folder Chan was carrying “Oh, right. Tomorrow is your lecture for the communication classes, but they said it is possible that students from other courses will also be there, because it’llll be in the auditorium”
Seokmin nodded, reading the guidelines Chan had made. He needed to admit that he was organized and had absolute control over everything he did. He was sure that if he asked about Wonwoo's program, Chan would know how to answer as if he worked directly with him.
“You know how it is, I have fans” Chan pretended to vomit “If you go tomorrow, we’ll go out to dinner later, I’ll pay”
"Deal"
Seokmin always found it strange to be called to give lectures at the college where he studied. He wasn't a teacher and he didn't think he had done enough to be someone who could give advice to someone. In fact, Seokmin was sure he hadn't done anything big. His life, to put it very simply, was flat. At least, almost all of his life.
Seokmin has always been the type of guy who makes plans and follows through on those plans. When he was sixteen he got it into his head that he wanted to work in radio. It wasn't without reasons, of course. He joined the school radio and despite doing very little, because the school director had to know everything that would be done, even the nouns he would use in the sentence, he fell in love with the idea. That's why he decided he should study journalism in college, that way even if his radio career didn't work out, he would still have a profession.
But his dream was to work on a radio, to have his own program. So that's what he did.
He entered college as planned, sunk into student debt, and graduated exactly as he had planned. In his last semester, he got an internship at the biggest radio station in the country. He was on cloud nine. It was as if he had received the green light in life and everything was on the right track.
At least that's what he thought. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe. The internship became a permanent position and one day he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That's why he never felt prepared to give anyone advice. Despite having decided on the career he wanted to pursue, he knew that he also needed to count on a little luck and help. The only words he could offer were “you work hard, study, make contacts, and throw the rest into luck’s hands”. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear when he was a student looking forward to the future, so he certainly wouldn't say it to anyone.
However, Chan convinced him that it would be a good idea to give the talk.
“You’re going to tell me how you got here, that’s all. An unknown face who quickly went on air to cover someone for one of the most beloved radio broadcasters in the country. I'm sure if you say that shit fell on your head, they'll like it” Chan had said laughing.
Overall the lecture went very well. Better than expected. He answered the questions as honestly as possible and used his best smile to get rid of the more awkward questions.
Despite the good day, he knew he didn't want to repeat the dose anytime soon.
“They want to know if you would be willing to do one of these a semester” Chan whispered because he knew the answer Seokmin would give, so it was better for the students not to hear.
“No” was all Seokmin said “But I’ll still buy you dinner”
Chan punched the air in celebration, catching the eyes of those around him, but he seemed to care very little.
"I just…"
What Seokmin was about to say, an announcement that he needed to go to the bathroom, died in his throat as he looked straight ahead.
Letter #2
Seokmin,
I thought I would be able to adapt faster here. It was very hard in the beginning with transport, getting around in general was very difficult. So I chose a weekend and went walking around the neighborhood where I live. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I thought I should check it out. Besides, I can wake up in the middle of the night and decide that I want to eat something that I don't have at home, so it's good to know if there are any stores or markets that open in the middle of the night (in this neighborhood there aren't any, maybe that's why I won’t stay here).
I discovered that going out there, although productive, wasn't such a good idea. Nothing wrong happened, I didn't get hit on or someone was rude to me. Quite the contrary, most people pretended they weren't even seeing me. The problem was that everything made me think about you.
I walked by the store that sold a lot of random old things and decided to go in. You know I love filling the house with trinkets. I didn't find anything there that I liked, but I saw that they were selling camera films. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and all I could think was, I think Seokmin is running out of film, I need to buy more because he will only realize when he doesn't have any left.
I bought it and brought it to the apartment. I opened the door and called your name. It was only later, when I noticed where I was, that it wasn't our apartment, that I realized what I had done.
Even without meaning to, even when I try not to, I find myself looking for you. Everywhere. I go to a restaurant and think about what you would like to eat, I see a dog on the street and I imagine you bending down to pet it. It's not on purpose, I just can't help it. I try, but it's in vain.
I wonder if it will pass. Will this feeling that I succeeded in my career but ruined my personal life disappear or will I feel like this forever — or at least for a good few years?
yn.
It was as if all the air had been ripped from your lungs and there was no way in the world to get you to breathe.
Somehow, some way, Seokmin was standing in front of you, in the middle of the college hallway.
For a moment it was as if you had been transported back in time, to when you were still 22 years old. In another moment you would have simply run up to him and thrown yourself into his arms as if you hadn't spent the whole night clinging to him, as if you hadn't seen each other before classes, as if you hadn't shared the smallest space in the world on the subway for 20 minutes. And your body seemed to remember all of this, like some kind of muscle memory, because you felt like you were being projected forward. Towards him.
You thought Seokmin would talk to you, you were sure he would. But you saw the way his gaze changed, the way it went from complete surprise to a hard look, completely different from anything you had ever seen from him.
In your memory, Seokmin was always brilliant and was always willing to welcome everyone with open arms, even when he felt more shy. You didn’t understand, that look he gave you was completely different from what you imagined could happen.
When you made the decision to return, you knew that there was a possibility of meeting Seokmin, no matter how small it was. You didn't know if he was still friends with the same people, if he still kept in touch with them. You certainly hadn't kept in touch with anyone - except for the two times you talked to Joshua. The possibility existed, but being realistic you knew it was as big as winning the lottery.
Of all the places you thought you could find Seokmin, college was the last one and maybe that was even why you accepted the job. When you were taking the last tests, the ones that would say whether you would graduate at the end of the semester or not, Seokmin was categorical in saying that he would never set foot inside college again. So you thought it was a place he would never go, but there he was. And in your first week, when you needed everything to go well. Not to show that you were ready and that you could do the job, but to reassure yourself that you had made the right choice in accepting the job.
You didn't have time to decide whether to talk to him or not. Seokmin made the decision for both of you. He continued walking as if you weren't there, talking to the boy next to him, laughing. The only indication that he knew who you were was silent once and one that only you could distinguish.
He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.
Was it possible that only you had felt that way? That just your heart had decided it didn't know how to beat, as if a storm was raging inside your body?
You didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. You just forced yourself to take a deep breath and also keep walking as if those brief seconds weren't enough to make your entire world turn completely upside down.
Seokmin dragged his feet into the room, tripping over the rug at the foot of the bed. A curse came out of his mouth, followed by a burp. When he invited Chan to dinner he had no intention of ending the night drunk, being carried home like someone who had just had his first drink.
It had been years since he had gotten that bad and it was comical that the previous occasion was also connected to you.
The memory of leaving you at the airport, on a flight in the middle of the night, was still vivid in Seokmin's mind. Worse than that memory, was the one of you telling him that you had gotten a place in a master's degree on the other side of the world, 18 hours before leaving the country.
“I need to tell you something” you said as he pulled his coat over his head and patted his pockets, making sure he had grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. He needed to leave as quickly as possible, he was already late.
Seokmin had plans to ask you to marry him. He had rented a house where you could spend the weekend, where it would be possible to see the stars. He had prepared himself, but he needed to leave right that second so he would have enough time to go to the house, get everything ready and come back to get you. The owner of the house would help him, since Seokmin decided that he wouldn't tell any of his friends because they might just ruin the surprise.
“I'm already late” he said, quickly looking at his watch. "Did something happen?"
He asked, noticing your already somewhat desperate look. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't be good.
To be honest, he had noticed that something was wrong a few weeks before, and for a while, he decided it would be better not to get into it too much. He knew you well enough to know that you would offer the information when you felt ready to do so. But thinking back on everything, he wished he had asked before, he wished he hadn't given you space, he wished he had forced you to talk to him sooner.
“I passed my master’s degree abroad”
Seokmin’s first reaction was to be happy for you. He knew how much you wanted that, that it was your dream. So he did what any boyfriend would do, he hugged you and congratulated you, told you that you had tried so hard and that they would be idiots not to accept you. The feeling was true and his smile was genuine. He was happy for you.
Knowing what he knew, every now and then Seokmin wondered if he would have done anything differently if he knew what the next words would be out of your mouth. He could have made a fuss, he could have begged you to stay, he could have offered to go with you. But at the time he didn't do any of that.
“I’m leaving today, I need to be at the airport at 11 pm”
Seokmin's ears rang deafeningly. It was as if he had been punched and needed to brace himself against something. The sofa was the closest piece of furniture.
He thought he heard it wrong, he wished he was dreaming, but all he had to do was look at you. It was true. It was as if a puzzle was being completed in Seokmin's mind. The way you had suddenly become distant, how every time he entered the room you hurried to change or close whatever you were looking at on the computer. He didn't even know you signed up. He imagined that you must have done some kind of test, some interview and he didn't even know anything about it.
He had no idea.
Had he been a bad boyfriend, someone who was so focused on making the long-awaited proposal that he had ignored everything else? Or had you hidden it so well that he hadn't noticed?
"What? You’re leaving today?"
It was like the world was spinning too fast and he was trying to keep up with what was happening. It was like being on a roller coaster that kept on falling. He remembered well how the little box with the ring he had carefully chosen weighed in his pocket.
“I didn’t even know you had applied for a position” he whispered, almost just to himself “You didn’t tell me”
And it was at that exact moment, when he looked at you, that Seokmin realized that your relationship was over. You avoided looking at him, your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your coat, which was his. He saw your eyes fill with tears, you swallow hard, and remain silent.
It was unlike you, to stay quiet when you had too many things going through your head. He desperately wanted you to talk to him, to tell him what had been going through your head. He just wanted to understand. Did you believe he would somehow stop you from going? If there was one thing he knew about you, it was the fact that you always put your education first. It wasn't a secret and you didn't want it to be. He just didn't expect things to happen that way.
Seokmin sat in front of the closet, on the floor, and with difficulty opened the doors. Deep in the back, behind several shoe boxes, were two old boxes that he hadn't moved in years. Part of him wished the things inside the boxes were ruined, that they had mold and anything else that could ruin its content. But he had been careful, kept everything in order, taken all necessary precautions, and cleaned the closet periodically.
He ignored the first box and pulled the smaller one towards him, placing it on his bent legs. Seokmin wasn't one to revisit those memories, he liked to keep them as far away from him as possible, but on nights like those, it was impossible.
Seokmin knew what he would find and was sure how he would feel, but he still took the lid off the box, but he didn't dare take out any of the items inside it.
He knew he had reached his lowest point when he was holding on to memories he had of you and not focusing on what was actually happening in his life.
Letter #3
Seokmin,
I talked to Joshua today. Talk is a bit too strong of a word. We exchanged a few words on Instagram. He posted a photo and I liked it, he sent me a DM asking if I was ok and how things were going. I lied, of course. He said everything was fine and he was happy. He didn't talk about you and I didn't ask.
It was very hard to contain myself. I want to know how you are. The more selfish part of my brain wants you to be just as bad as I feel. You know that little demon that sits on our shoulder? He assures me you're even worse. And I hate to think that's the case, but at the same time, I'm sure you're not okay. I know you, we dated for four years, we lived together for almost two years
You were always the more emotional one of the two of us. You were never afraid to show your feelings, not for me or anyone else. You always loved so openly, without any fear. I admit that at first, it scared me a little.
I was an 18-year-old girl who came from a family that had no idea how to show affection, so I was always more reserved in that aspect. And there you were with your beautiful, bright smile, with open arms, affectionate with anyone who came along. I thought you were a crazy person who didn't have the slightest notion of the world. It took a while for me to realize that your world was brighter than mine in ways I couldn't understand.
You were always so untethered, free, showing yourself to anyone who had eyes. When I was closed and more reclusive, you were open and expansive. When I was very shy or reserved, you were more charming and brighter than usual. Not even my worst mood, which seemed endless at times, was a problem for you.
One day you just showed up and decided that you would stay by my side, no matter what. Believe me when I say, I tried to push you away. But with each passing day you were further under my skin.
A kiss at a random party turned into a date at every party, parties became meetings at the college library, which led to coffee dates. One day you decided at the end of each date you had to take me back to the dorms and you kissed me for a long time on the side of the building where no one could see — or at least I made myself believe no one did. Then that alone wasn't enough and you were always with your fingers intertwined with mine, or your arm around my waist. And kisses were no longer reserved for empty streets, of course not. You kissed me anywhere, anytime, no matter who was watching.
You were sneaky, Seokmin.
When I realized it, I was in love with you. Your arms were my refuge. You were my safe space. My home.
yn.
You hated that Seokmin’s reaction, or lack thereof, had gotten to you so much. It was like being punched, and then one more, soon the punch became a beating and to finish with a flourish, it was as if a truck had run over you.
You had plans to go out at the weekend, though alone. Everything was so different, the places you knew no longer existed and friends from the past no longer spoke to you. You would have to rediscover the city without anyone's help. Despite your plans, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the house.
When you decided to return, you knew there would be no way to escape Seokmin. He had become successful not only in his career as a broadcaster but also as a celebrity of sorts. You never imagined you would see his face in magazines or on billboards selling fried chicken. You didn't expect that when you turned on the TV you would see his face in different programs.
In fact, you knew all of that was happening, but somehow you managed to convince yourself that you wouldn't have to see any of it. You managed to make yourself believe that you would not be haunted by his images and voice.
When you were away, you always listened to his programs, more than once each one, but it was almost like a relationship between fan and celebrity. You could separate very well what was him and what was you. But being there, in the same country, in the same city, it was much more difficult to make that separation.
Because once you were back, Seokmin was no longer just the radio host with a show about relationships. Far from it. Seokmin was your college sweetheart, the guy whose heart you broke but who, even after seven years, was still in love with.
That was the reality. you were still in love with him. There was no relationship in the world, no man in the world, that would have made you forget about Seokmin. Sometimes it worked, sometimes you managed to forget about him for a few months and that feeling of loss, of emptiness, that had settled deep inside your heart became smaller and smaller. And then it would come back full on as if it had never left.
Maybe that was your curse, your punishment for leaving behind someone you could have spent the rest of your life with. And somehow you knew you would have been happy. Or at least a different kind of happiness.
After spending the weekend holed up inside your apartment, after convincing yourself that you needed to prepare for teaching classes and unpacking the move, she decided that on Tuesday night she would explore the city.
Exploring wasn't the right word. You had discovered that one of your favorite restaurants still existed, it had just changed location. And, despite being on the other side of the city and being completely aware that you would have to pay a fortune for a taxi or risk taking the subway alone almost at closing time, you decided to go anyway.
You needed to feel like one thing hadn't changed, or at least still be recognizable.
You heard your name being called a few minutes after sitting down. You raised your head, recognizing the voice, but couldn't tell who it belonged to. Directly in front of you was a woman, with short hair, in her fifties.
“It’s really you!”
You stood up and a second later you were being hugged. Maybe you had gone there for that reason, knowing that there would be someone there who would recognize you. Or at least you hoped there was. And when you were welcomed with open arms by her owner, Niah, you wanted to cry for the first time in a long time.
“Hi” was all you could offer, your voice weak.
You quickly turned your face away, trying to be discreet as you wiped away your tears. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of someone else. Tears were reserved for dark moments in the silence of your apartment, they weren't meant to be seen by people you didn't even know in a crowded restaurant.
“Look how beautiful you look. You haven't been around for so long. Seokmin told us that you had gone abroad to study, but I thought you would come back sooner.”
You just managed to smile, even though it was embarrassing. It was strange to hear his name coming out of someone else's mouth so easily. For years, his name was just an echo in your own mind, almost as if it were a fantasy of yours.
There were days when you managed to convince yourself of this, that Seokmin was nothing more than a dream.
“Are you just visiting or are you back to stay?”
“I'm staying” you said after a second, when you managed to find your voice again “I got a job here, I have nowhere to run”
Niah laughed and hugged you once again, tighter this time.
"Great, that makes me happy. We always miss you” Niah smiled and ran her fingers down your cheeks, brushing away some tears that were stubborn to fall “What do you want to eat? Today it's on the house. Consider it a welcome gift.”
You took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat and the remaining tears.
"What do you recommend?"
The amazing thing about meeting Niah again was that she still acted exactly the same way. She didn't see you as someone who had simply packed a suitcase of clothes and left the country overnight. To Niah you were still that same person from 7 years ago who ate whatever she put in front of. You and Seokmin were always guinea pigs for all the new recipes.
The food was still wonderful, if anything it had just gotten better.
You had a fork halfway to your mouth when you heard the door open, the sound of the bell indicating the entry of a new customer. You almost instinctively turned to look. You choked on your own saliva when your eyes met Seokmin's.
It was as if you were back in the hallway that day. Your heart simply stopped, and the world fell into suspension. For a moment, it was as if you had been transported to the past. You were almost certain that if you looked at the table you would see books open next to the cutlery; you knew that if you looked at Seokmin for another second or two his face would break into the most beautiful smile, he would wave and call your name.
But your illusion shattered into small pieces as his neutral expression contorted into a frown. With the same foot he entered he turned to leave.
“Seokmin!” you called him, getting up from your chair.
Part of you thought he was going to continue out the door, but he stopped. Half of his body was outside the restaurant, the other inside.
“Hurry up and close that door!” Niah said leaving the kitchen “You’re letting out all the heat”
Even with Niah's voice calling him, Seokmin remained standing at the door. You sat back down, but without taking your eyes off him. He didn't know what he expected of him, but he felt an indescribable relief when Niah pulled him by the sleeve of his coat and forced him to sit in front of you.
“The restaurant is packed, so you will have to share a table” she said as she turned her back.
Seokmin shook his head, clearly against sitting there, staying in the restaurant, but he still took off his coat and hung it on the chair before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
It was clear he was working out, his shoulders had gotten broader and his arms bigger since you last saw each other. You almost laughed at the pose, remembering all the times you had seen him in a similar situation. But this wasn't the time to laugh when everything else was screaming that he was uncomfortable with the situation, that he didn't want to be there.
It didn't take a genius to know that Seokmin wanted nothing to do with you. His reaction to seeing you in the hallway the week before and the way he was looking at you in that moment were enough answers.
You felt like the walls were closing in around you and there wasn't enough air in the room.
What were you thinking when you called his name? What were you thinking when you silently watched Niah pull him inside? Why were you still sitting there?
A waiter who worked with Niah passed by your table and you called him discreetly, not wanting to attract the attention of the restaurant owner.
“Can you wrap everything to go, please?” you turned to Seokmin “You can have the table. I was already leaving”
It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.
Seokmin laughed lowly, scornfully, his sideways smile making the hair on your arms stand on end. In general, Seokmin has always been the type of guy who didn’t lose his cool easily, who would always rather let things go than have any kind of confrontation. But when he really got stressed out or nervous, it took a while for him to calm down again.
You had seen that storm in his eyes very few times in the years you spent together. The last one was when he went to the airport to say goodbye to you. That day the storm was just confusion and pain, you knew you had done that to him. But he sat there in the restaurant, in front of you, in silence while the people around him chatted animatedly, completely oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.
"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.
“Ah, nothing” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “It’s just like you to do that”
You narrowed your eyes at the same time you felt your cheeks get hot.
"Do what?"
"Runaway"
Letter #4
Seokmin,
It took me almost a year to convince myself that it was okay for me to look at social media. I convinced myself that every woman does this, that every now and then we look at our ex-boyfriend's Instagram, just to find out if his new girlfriend is ugly. I've told you this several times, but every female experience is universal.
I wish you were one of those low profile people, who post a picture every 6 months and it's a cut mango on a pretty plate. I wish you hadn't posted so many pictures. But more than anything, I wish I hadn't spent hours and hours looking at the photos. I wish I hadn't been analyzing every photo of you, I wish I hadn't thought “that's a new mole” and wondered which others had appeared since the last time we saw each other.
I had memorized every mole of yours. On your face, on your arms, on your back. On the worst days, when I missed you in a way that almost made me give up everything and go home, I kept remembering each one of them. I tried to remember the sound of your laugh, your voice, how you stroked my hair until I fell asleep when it wasn't a good day.
I keep wondering if one day this feeling will just go away.
It's been a year since I left. I went out with other guys, and I almost dated one of them, but you're always there in the back of my mind, almost comically because even against my will I can't help but compare them to you. I can't help but think that only you know how I like my coffee, how only you know that if I'm in my worst mood, there's no joke in the world that can make me laugh.
I know it's not fair to them. I gave you the chance to get to know me, I allowed you to get closer. I wanted you to come closer to me. Now I wonder if you're doing this for someone other than me.
I like to imagine that you also compare other women to me, that even now that you're dating I stay there, in the back of your mind, making fun of you.
Unfortunately, she's not ugly, but your smile was brighter when I was next to you.
yn.
To say that Seokmin had spent the rest of the week in an envious mood was an understatement. He was stressed and everyone around him soon noticed the change. He really tried not to let his personal life get in the way of his work. It was something he never struggled with. Work was work, what happened when the lights went out and he left the radio should never cross paths with each other. That week, however, it was impossible.
Meeting you at the restaurant caught him off guard. That day in the college hallway had been difficult, but he managed to just keep walking as if nothing had happened. He liked to pretend like he hadn't gone out with Chan right after and drank like there was no tomorrow, like he hadn't opened the boxes he had kept for years and cried while looking at the photos of the two of you together.
He had gone to the restaurant that day because he needed some form of comfort and didn't want to call any of his friends because he knew he would end up telling them everything that happened and would receive advice and words he would rather not hear. The restaurant was the best idea he had. Or maybe the worst possible one.
Maybe he had done it consciously, because he wanted to see you one more time, and wanted to make sure he hadn't imagined you. It wouldn't have been the first time.
In the first few months after you left, Seokmin got into the habit of visiting places he went with you, or places you liked to go alone. It was probably a form of torture, but he liked to imagine it was a way to forget and overcome the breakup. On several of those days, he believed he saw you. He realistically knew it wasn't you, he clearly remembered seeing you get on the plane and waited until it took off to leave the airport.
The worst thing that could have happened to him was you calling for him. Seokmin couldn't help but wonder if he had always reacted that way to you, if your presence was always so great that before he even saw you he knew you were nearby. That day, as soon as he opened the door, before he even saw you sitting there with your eyes wide open, he knew. He knew you were there.
The last thing he expected from you was you saying his name, as if asking him to sit with you, that Niah, knowing how the relationship had ended, would have made him sit in front of you.
Seokmin noticed your discomfort, the way your spine had become a little straighter, the way your eyes were hard and cautious at the same time. Your reaction made him angry. What right did you have to behave that way, as if you were hurt when all the decisions regarding a relationship both of you were in had been made by you?
You were the one who signed up for a master's degree abroad. It was you who never told him about your decision. It was you who kept everything secret, making him believe that the two of you were on the same page and that despite your different goals, you would be able to pursue them together.
Turns out he was wrong, those dreams were just his and didn't include him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked for the thousandth time.
For the first time in a long time, Seokmin was having a hard time hiding how he really felt. That polished, carefully carved mask had fallen. It was a completely atypical day and everyone was able to notice his sudden change in mood. Even Chan, who normally did a great job of ignoring all the problems around him and focusing solely on his work, seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.
“It’s really obvious, isn’t it?” Seokmin asked in a low voice and Chan just nodded "And if I pretend it's because of the new segment, will anyone believe it?"
Again, Chan nodded. Since he had started the program, 3 years before, Seokmin would receive calls and speak directly to listeners. Although there were always interactions, those were always done through live chat and email when he received questions or stories from people who were not listening to the program when it was airing.
Seokmin wasn't nervous about the idea, he was actually excited. Chan knew this and knew that whatever the problem was, it was still the same as the day of the lecture. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to seem invasive, but he still wanted to make sure Seokmin was okay — or at least, well enough to do the program.
“I think everyone is already thinking that” was a lie and even Seokmin knew it, but he was grateful.
“You may already know this, but today we will start a new segment. We'll call it the heart to heart helpline, at least until we find a better name at least” Seokmin's voice and laugh resonated through the taxi “We'll take your calls and some of you will be able to talk to me and ask your questions live, instead of by chat. Each person will have a maximum of 2 minutes and we will answer 6 calls today”
You had left the house completely willing to avoid anything related to Seokmin. Realistically, you knew you couldn't do anything about the billboards and his face at bus stops, but you could very well avoid his radio show. And for a few weeks you had managed to do just that.
That day at the restaurant had almost been a cathartic moment. Somehow, it was as if something had clicked and fallen into place. The Seokmin you left behind no longer existed. It had been a naive thought to think so. You didn't expect that he would still be exactly the same person, of course not. Seven years had passed and Seokmin, like you, was approaching his thirties. Obviously, many things had changed, but you still expected to see traces of that 22-year-old boy you had known and loved.
You didn't spend more than five minutes with him at that table. And it was much more than enough. He had accused you of running away, of continuing to do this for years. Of course, that could be his view on everything, but it was never your intention. The only problem was that you hadn't been able to tell him those things. You had been so lost and so completely helpless in front of him that you had forgotten that you knew how to speak and form sentences.
You had spent years of your life writing letters to him, letters that he would never read, but that was beside the point. You wrote letters as a way to appease the emptiness you felt in your heart. You never, not for a second, thought you were running away. You never wanted to run away, but Seokmin seemed to believe you did.
In a sudden burst of anger, you took your phone out of your bag and dialed the number Seokmin spoke on the radio. You didn't expect your call to go through. In fact, you didn't even know what you expected.
“Please wait a minute, we will connect your call” a non-robotic voice said as you paid for the taxi.
Seokmin was still chatting animatedly with a listener who didn't have a real question, but who “just wanted to say that I really liked your show and that I’m a fan.” It was impossible not to roll your eyes. If she, and everyone else, knew how much of a complete asshole he could be just because he had the opportunity, they would never want to see his face again.
Or maybe they would team up against you in favor of the immaculate Seokmin. God knew how easily a man could turn public opinion in his favor with a beautiful smile. And God was also a witness that Seokmin's smile was simply wonderful, one that took your breath away, one that made you smile along because it was contagious.
“Welcome to the heart to heart helpline” Seokmin’s voice sounded in your ear “What’s your question?”
You didn't really think that your call would get through to Seokmin, you didn't think the signal would be good enough inside the elevator, but none of that seemed to be a problem.
“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You knew you were going really crazy, but you decided to throw caution out the window and be the crazy person everyone used to believe you were.
“Yes, I’m here” you could have sworn, that even over the phone, you felt Seokmin tense up “It’s a question about an old relationship, we broke up years ago, if that’s okay”
You struggled with your keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. You needed to get to your computer or tablet, whichever was closer. It was almost a physical necessity to see Seokmin's reaction to your voice, your question.
You always knew how to tell if he was truly calm or if he was masking what he was feeling. You wanted to know if you still had any other sort of effect on him. Whatever it was, it was better than angry disdain.
“Old relationships should stay in the past, don’t you think?” he finally said.
You nodded as you ran into your room. You knew you would find the tablet under your pillow — you were sure that if your mother saw it she would say that your brain would explode due to the radiation from the device. With a few taps, you opened the stream of Seokmin's program.
“I think so. But the problem is that we keep seeing each other. I don’t think it’s something either of us want, but it seems inevitable.”
You turned the sound off, you just wanted to focus on his reactions. Seokmin swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed on the microphone in front of him. To anyone, it just seemed like he was concentrating on the call, on what the person on the other end of the line had to say, but you knew very well that it was to hide his reactions.
"Your question?"
“Well, he called me selfish and said I ran away when we broke up, but that's not exactly what happened. I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he wants to listen to me.”
Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.
“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”
“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"
“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”
You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.
You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,
“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”
“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt, like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”
Letter #5
Seokmin
I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.
But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.
But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.
But it's not like that for me or for you.
I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.
I'm going crazy, aren't I?
It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.
What am I still doing?
yn
Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.
Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.
Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.
“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.
“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.
Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.
Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.
Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control.
He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.
He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.
Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.
When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.
Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.
You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.
Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.
You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.
"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.
Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.
He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.
It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.
One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.
“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.
You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.
“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”
How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.
It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.
“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.
You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.
In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.
You never quite managed to do that.
“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”
You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.
“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”
“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”
Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.
Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.
“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.
The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.
That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.
“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”
You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.
“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.
“You always wanted to have a radio show”
“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”
You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.
“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.
“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”
Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.
“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”
You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.
You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.
“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”
Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.
Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.
“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”
You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.
“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”
You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.
Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.
“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”
Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks.
At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.
To hell with his plan.
Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple.
You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him.
Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.
“Seokmin, I…”
He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him.
“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said.
You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire.
You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again.
His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before.
He smiled over your skin.
“At least this hasn’t changed”
It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.
“Where’s your room?”
You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor.
Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side.
“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck.
“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”
Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed.
It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn.
It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again.
Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful.
Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker.
He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.
Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time.
He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes.
He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then.
"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant.
Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically.
You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again.
I love you, the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once.
Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.
You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it.
"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.
Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him.
"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"
All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you.
Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.
"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"
To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you.
Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place.
"Seokmin... harder"
And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room.
Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much.
You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side.
Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair.
"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him.
Letter #6
Seokmin,
I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.
I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.
Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.
I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.
We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.
You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.
Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.
But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.
I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.
You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?
The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.
Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.
Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?
yn
Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.
You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.
When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.
You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.
You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.
You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.
There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.
One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.
At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.
You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.
Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.
The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.
Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.
Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.
It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.
There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.
Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.
You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.
The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.
“Say it again, but this time looking at me”
You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.
“Your nose is beautiful”
You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.
“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”
The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.
Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.
It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.
Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.
When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.
The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.
All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.
The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.
You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.
Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.
And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.
It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.
The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.
You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.
You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.
A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.
“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.
You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.
You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.
You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.
Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.
“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.
“Let me give you a ride”
You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.
“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”
“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”
You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.
"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”
You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.
“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”
You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.
Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.
When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.
Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.
Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.
After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.
He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.
He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home.
Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.
Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.
The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.
After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.
Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.
“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.
His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.
You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.
“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”
“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”
You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.
“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”
Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.
“I know, I read your letters”
Seokmin,
It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.
I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well, again.
As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.
But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.
You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.
I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.
It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.
I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.
I love you.
yn
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Revenge... (Final Part) (GRAPHIC)
Batmom x Batfamily
Prompt: Batmom and Jason did what needed to be done...
Part 1 Part 2
How far had you fallen? From the sight you and your second oldest left for Gotham City left the broken city divided in half.
Too far...
or not far enough...
That sight? Joker's corpse lying on the Bat-Signal. That sick, and sadistic grin still on his face. It made you sick to see it, but you were satisfied that he was gone, "It doesn't fix it. That bitterness I feel." You said as you watched the GCPD conduct their investigation from a nearby building. You didn't know if Batman was lurking about. Was he too scared to face you? Or was he just waiting for the perfect moment to pounce?
"It'll never go away. Trust me, Mom. You're taking that to the grave." Jason said coldly as he polished one of his guns. The other was tucked safetly in your belt. One bullet had been fired from each gun. One shot for Jason's revenge, and one for yours. Was it poor form to take him out while he was in a coma? Sure, but it was much more satisfying than pulling a plug.
Jason's bitterness was ever growing. When his eyes first opened, he was floating in a green pool surrounded by the League of Assassin's. Once his memory returned, the seed that was already planted before his death began to grow. That seed kept growing, and growing once he learned of your fate after his death. How did he find out? He had to listen to Talia praise you without seeming affected. She was proud of you for avenging something so precious to you. Then she turned around, and degraded you for allowing yourself to be throwing in the Asylum.
That didn't matter now, you were free. The Joker was finally gone. The disgusting, smog filled air seemed lighter now that he was gone.
Meanwhile...
Bruce sat in front of the batcomputer. The biggest image on the screen was of your face. The last image of you before you left the Asylum. That cold gaze with the evil smirk. He knew what that meant...he's seen that gaze several times throughout his vigilante life.
You were coming for him. His wife died the night he carried Jason's dead body into the cave. Something else was born, and grew within the walls of the Asylum. Now you were coming for him. He couldn't fight you. You were the love of his life. His reason for breathing, and yet...he made the biggest mistake of his life. Bruce changed the image from you to the one of Joker's corpse. The scars from your vicious beating paired with the two bullet holes. One in his heart, and the other between his eyes. He couldn't blame anyone, but himself for this.
Now he has to prepare for the hell you and Jason are about to unleash upon Gotham's Underground. No villain or evil doer was safe now. He couldn't stop you, and he knew you would never let him hurt Jason. He created two monsters, when it was so easy to prevent it.
Gotham was going to burn, and you were going to be the one holding the matches.
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Maybe blurb from crying prompt idk if this would be a hide or hold maybe both? But the reader holds her emotions in during a family thing because she's the oldest sibling and she feels like she has to be strong because that's how her family was raised and then she gets a moment and they tell her to stop being strong and that it's okay to let it out. I'm thinking either Bradley or Jake?
Hold My Hand - J. Seresin x Reader
synopsis: you get a phone call that no child ever wants to get, and as the "rock" of the family, you aren't allowed to break.
warnings: parental death, trauma, parental abandonment, incorrect medical jargon, mental abuse, grief, depression
note: I know this was supposed to only be a blurb, but I started writing and I couldn't stop. These past 16 days have been hell and there was something about writing this that just felt so freeing, like the cloud hanging over me has finally been lifted.
it had felt like a lifetime had passed, but in reality, it had only been 10 days.
10 days since that frightening phone call on that cold January day.
10 days since your mother called you, sound incoherent on the phone but you managed to gather the gist of it.
10 days since you had rushed out of your house, your hair half done, your husband chasing after you like you had lost your mind.
10 days since your father so bravely rushed into a burning building, saving other children and leaving you, your siblings and your mother behind.
You were angry, at first. Angry at the world for allowing this to happen. Angry at your father for playing superman when he was just a regular man. Angry at the other people standing around who didn’t have the same courage to run into the fire instead of standing by and yelling at your father to turn back. Angry that this was going to be the end; that your mother would be a widow at a young age, your youngest sisters wouldn’t have their father to walk them down the aisle, your children wouldn’t ever have another “grandpa day”, that you’d never get another hug and an “i love you” from your father again.
You wanted to cry. You wanted to shut out the world, force the cameras away, force the sorrowful looks from others away, force the heavy weight of your heart onto someone else.
But you couldn't. You had to be the strong one. For your mother. For your siblings. For your own children.
Jake had been watching you like a hawk since you had gotten that phone call. The morning started out like any other morning, with the two of you waking up before the sun was in the sky, making sure you had enough time to do a quick at-home workout and a run. You had been working on packing the kids' lunches when you got that call. He had to pry the keys out of your hands, telling you that your mother didn't need you and your father in the hospital.
Jake had eyed you the whole drive, noticing the redness and the unshed tears in your eyes. The way that you clutched the dainty silver cross around your neck between your fingers. The way that you sniffled every so often, trying to hold back the tears. But the second you stepped into the hospital, seeing the distressing look on your mother's face and the waiting room full of fellow firemen, you rolled your shoulders back and pushed back your own sadness and grief.
Those 10 days had been the best and worst of your life. You hardly left the hospital, unless Jake was physically forcing you to leave. You hardly ate, hardly slept, hardly took care of yourself. Your mind was so worried about everyone else except yourself. For 9 days, you had believed that maybe, just maybe, your father would pull through. But that all came crashing down on day 10, when your father's brain had swelled and his doctor's pronounced him brain dead.
"Y/N," Your mother had spoke, looking over at you as the doctor stood in front of your family. Jake shifted in his seat, putting his hand on your thigh, "You need to do it."
"What?"
"No," You and Jake spoke at the same time.
Your mother shook her head, "I can't be the one. . .," Tears clogged her throat, "I can't be the one who takes him-"
Jake scoffed, sitting up straight in his chair, his grip tightening on your thigh, "And you want your daughter to-"
"Jake," You sighed. There was no use in fighting. After all, you were the eldest. You knew eventually you would be the one who gets stuck making the medical choices for your parents. You just assumed you'd have more time to prepare. You rolled your shoulders back and looked at the doctor, "What do I need to sign?"
"It was such a lovely service," Your aunt Marjorie said, patting Jake's hand as he spoke to him. It was true, you had done a fantastic job planning a funeral for your father, all by yourself. Jake had helped you the best that he could, going with you to pick out a casket and a grave plot and music and flowers, "That Y/N was always Lee's favorite."
"I know," Jake gave Aunt Marjorie his best gentleman smile, the one that made his dimple pop out, "She's a special girl."
"Oh and how brave she was standing in front of everyone and speaking?" Aunt Marjorie placed her hand on her heart. Jake nodded his head, wishing that he could be anywhere else than in a conversation with Aunt Marjorie, "And that Miranda," Aunt Marjorie scoffed, looking over at where your mother sat stoic on the couch, "Looks like she's going to be the next to go."
Jake clenched his jaw, pulling his eyes away from your mother. He had his own thoughts and feelings about her, ones that he had shared with you one night during a heated fight.
"She has abandoned you!" Jake yelled, as you angrily pulled the blankets back on the bed. You were exhausted and just wanted to sleep in your bed for one night. You had managed to get your mother to stay with your father for the night, which was like pulling teeth, "You need her to be the parent and she's not."
"She is grieving too, Jake," You sighed.
"And you're not!?"
"I am," You ran a hand down your face, "I just handle it differently. I've always been the strong rock. The one who doesn't cry. The one who holds others when they cry," You sat down on the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion.
"And I know that, baby," Jake rounded the bed, and sat down beside you. He grabbed your hand, holding it in his own, "You are strong. You are incredibly fucking strong. . . but you shouldn't have to be the strong one right now. You shouldn't be the one pulling all nighters by your dad's side. You shouldn't be the one making medical decisions on your father's behalf. Even though you are an adult. . . Y/N, baby, you're still his child. Your mother should-"
"I don't want to have this conversation anymore," You pulled your hand away from Jake, "My mom isn't well, and she needs me to help her-"
"Bullshit," Jake scoffed, "She is abandoning you and you know it."
You clenched your jaw, holding back the anger radiating in your body. Jake held a tiny bit of hope that maybe, just maybe you'd lash out at him. That you'd show some type of emotion after being a near zombie these past 8 days. But instead, you stood up quietly and left the room, choosing to go sleep in your son's room instead.
Jake had drown out Aunt Marjorie's talking, his eyes landing on you across the room. You had opened up your home to your family, your father's fire crew, Jake's squad and friends for a meal and drinks following the funeral. You had done a great job at not falling apart during the service or the burial, but Jake could tell that the rope was starting to fray. And right now, it was about to snap as you were talking animatedly with your sister across the room in a small alcove.
"Hey, Aunt Marjorie," Jake turned back to look at the 80 year old woman, "It was lovely catching up with you, but I need to go help Y/N with something. We should do coffee some time."
"Oh yes, that'd be-"
"Great, see you later," Jake quickly made his way over to you, not bothering to hear the rest of Aunt Marjorie's response.
The last thing you wanted to do in a houseful of guests from your father's funeral, was get into an argument with your sister, but here you were. Claire was the baby of the family, the one who got away with the most. Your relationship with Claire was rocky, as the line between sister and mother-figure had gotten crossed while you were growing up. You wanted what was best for Claire, and sometimes that required extra tough love and parenting.
"You are high!" You exclaimed.
"I am not," Claire's voice was slightly slurred. Jake's nose scrunched up as he walked into the room, smelling the distinct scent of marijuana.
"My whole damn shed smells like marijuana, Claire," You crossed your arms over your chest, "This isn't like you. What is going on? Talk to me."
"Oh god," Claire rolled her eyes, "Here she goes again. Acting like my mother!"
"Well!" You scoffed, throwing your arms in the air. Jake stood behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. In the past couple days, you had shrugged off any sort of comfort that Jake offered you, but now, you welcomed it, "You smoked a joint before you walked into dad's funeral! Smoked another one in my shed, where your niece and nephew play. And don't even get me started on how you reeked like vod-"
"Y/N," Your mother's voice filled the air, making all three of you look towards her, "Let's not do this now."
"No," You shook your head, "Let's do this now. Your daughter is high. She smoked up in my garage and then walked into my house smelling like a dispensary."
Your mom looked over at your sister and then back at you. You felt a pang in your chest as you watched her silently side with your sister. The familiar burning sensation of tears prickled at your eyes and nose.
"She's grieving," Your mother simply answered.
You scoffed, "And who isn't?"
"Y/N,"
"Forget it," You shook your head, "It's nothing, it's fine. It's always fucking fine."
For the rest of the afternoon, you made yourself busy, staying far away from your mother and sister. Jake remained within arms reach of you, his presence comforting and not overbearing. You had finally sat down, and managed to get something in your stomach. It must've been evident on your face, but the guests had only said a couple words to you before going on their way. It took nearly four hours, but all the guests had left, filling your house with a silence you hadn't heard in nearly 10 days.
Jake had taken the burden of cleaning everything up, while you sat on the back porch, watching the sunset with a glass of wine in your hand. The cool San Diego winter breeze felt nice against your heated skin.
"The house is finally, back to normal," Jake announced as he walked out onto the back porch. Natasha had gratefully volunteered to take your children for the night, so you and Jake could decompress.
"Thank you, daddy," You smiled sweetly at him, as he sat down next to you on the porch swing.
"Of course, baby," He said, and held out a white gift box, "Someone left this for you."
You furrowed your eyebrows, taking the box from him and lifting the lid. Your breath caught in your throat as you lifted the small, gold pocket watch from the box.
"Y/N," Jake said softly.
You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, "I always wanted this," You ran your hand over the engraved hummingbird on the gold casing, "It was from my grandfather's jewelry store and it quit working. My dad said he was going to get it fixed and give it to me as a wedding gift, but he lost it. . . I-I don't know-"
"Well, does it work?" Jake asked.
You swallowed, opening the face of the watch open. To your surprise, it did work. The second hand ticked around in perfect time as the watch seemed to already be set to the correct time. The beautiful watch had a colorful humming bird painted onto the face in the middle of the black Roman numeral numbers, and gold watch hands.
"It's perf- oh, c'mon," You cursed, as the watch stopped ticking. You tapped the glass face a couple of times, trying to maybe, just maybe get it up and ticking, "C'mon! You just. . . worked! C'mon!"
"Baby," Jake spoke, gently placing his hand on your wrist.
"No! It has to work! It has to!"
"Baby, it's okay," Jake assured you, "It's o-"
"Nothing is okay!" You snapped, looking up at him as the tears had finally escaped your eyes, "Nothing about any of this is okay!" You pushed yourself up from the porch swing, rushing to the edge of the patio and throwing the watching across the yard with a scream. Jake closed his eyes as loud sobs escaped from your lugs, as the grief had finally seemed to rush to you.
He stood up from the porch swing and enveloped you in his arms. You sagged against him, feeling his arms tighten around you to be able to hold you up. Jake hushed you, placing a hand on the back of your head, and his chin on the top.
"Let it out, baby," Jake encouraged you, running a hand over your hair, "Let it all out, baby."
You weren't sure how long you stood there in Jake's arms and cried, but he eventually picked you up, after feeling your legs grow weak. He carried you through the house, to your shared bedroom, sitting you down gently on the bed. You didn't even need to tell him what to do as he moved through the bedroom with familiarity, grabbing you nightgown, taking you out of your dress, washing the make-up from your face and applying your moisturizer.
"What do you need from me, baby?" Jake asked, as he kneeled in front of you, sliding your socks on your feet.
"I don't know," Your voice was raspy as you looked at him confused, "I've never. . . I've never felt-"
"I know," Jake nodded his head, "I know you haven't, and it can be scary the first time you just. . . lose it all." Jake could remember the first time he had ever broken down like you had. It was terrifying as he cried and destroyed the things around him. It felt like it was never going to end as one thing after another had set him off, until he was on the ground in the fetal position, withering, "But it will all be okay. I'm here to help you. Let me help you."
You nodded your head, tears springing to your eyes again. Jake cooed, and pulled you into his arms again as the tears fell down your cheeks.
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have u done the reader meeting charles' family for the first time🥹🫶🏻//
hey friend I think you got the prompt reversed. they requested reader meeting the leclerc family, not charles meeting the readers family.
Note: I absolutely did 🤦♀️ my bad! What's worse is that the piece I mentioned in the I also the right way around - I'm going with "it was late for me" 🤡 thank you for letting me know!
Charles parked the car in his spot in the garage, having just picked you up from your place since it was raining and he didn't want to you to catch an Uber or something like that.
"You don't need to worry, amour, my family won't think you're a 'snobby princess' because I went to pick you up", Charles shook his head, "my mother was the one who kicked me out of my own apartment to come and get you", he kissed your cheek, "ready?", he asked as he unlocked the door.
"Hi Y/N, I'm so happy you could join us for dinner", a blonde woman said, pulling you into a warm hug, "hi, thank you for having me with you", you smiled as you walked to the living room.
"I thought I told you I didn't want your feet on my coffee table", Charles swatted his brothers' feet from the piece of furniture, "That's no way to receive a guest, boys, c'mon", Pascale scolded.
"Hi, I'm Y/N", you smiled, waiting for them to get up and greet you how they wanted, going for a quick hug and a kiss on each cheek.
"I'm Arthur", the youngest one said, "glad we can finally meet you, we've heard so much about you that I feel like I know you", he smiled.
"I doubt I'm that interesting", you joked along as Charles squeezed your waist softly, "I'm sure you are, mon coeur".
"Charles actually made you sound like this unattainable example of perfection", the oldest Leclerc brother said, "I'm Lorenzo, who can believe you're all he said, but can't quite believe you chose him of all people", he winked.
"You should be kinder, Lorenzo!", a woman said as she stepped into the living room, "I'm Charlotte, Lorenzo's girlfriend, it's so nice to meet you, Y/N, I've been needing girl company whenever these three get together", she smirked.
"I'm happy to help with anything you need", you said as you set your things down in Charles' bedroom, "I just need to bring these to the table, it's no problem - but if you want to take the bread and the tapenade while you're here", Pascale smiled as she carried a bigger tray.
"Just so you know, my mother already loves you", Charles said once he caught you in the kitchen alone washing your hands before eating, "it hasn't been too long for me to ruin it that much", you joked.
Charles tapped your butt, "not like that, that's not what I meant and you know it! I mean she loves you since she noticed how happy you make me, and that goes beyond helping set the table or stuff like that", he kissed your lips, "you have a way with the Leclercs, they fall at your feet, amour".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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it was just a kiss || j.h.s
Summary: A night at the Hard Deck takes a turn when Jake confides in Mickey about some personal matters.
Warnings: swearing, fluff, jake has feelings, no use of y/n (reader has a nickname), fanboy is the ultimate bestie, drunk rooster is a menace to society
Word Count: 2.4k
Pairings: Jake Seresin x reader
Authors Note: Based on this prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting. Thanks to @writercole @demxters & @seresinsweetie for looking this over for me!
“The girl with the bachelorette party has been eyeing you all evening.” Fanboy handed him another beer, perching onto the bar stool next to him.
Hangman looked over to where the group of girls were seated, catching the eye of the brunette that had been trying to get his attention since they arrived. The girl gestured towards the doors but he shook his head, giving her an apologetic smile.
“Dude, what are you doing? She’s hot.” Mickey slapped his arm, eyes wide as saucers.
“I’m not interested.”
Fanboy looked concerned, swivelling around on his chair. “Alright, let me get this straight. For the past month, I’ve seen countless women approach you, yet you’ve turned them all down. What’s going on?”
Jake snorted into his beer. “Nothing. I’m just not interested.”
“Can we please just have a human conversation? I know that underneath all of those protein shakes and hair products is an actual human being called Jake, and not Hangman. So, stop trying to avoid the subject.” Mickey leaned back against the wall, knocking his knee into Jake’s.
Jake stared at Fanboy for the longest time, not knowing what to say. He opened his mouth but no words came out, so he settled back against the wall as well, keeping his eyes on the floor.
The Daggers had been permanently stationed at Top Gun since the Uranium Mission, instructing and flying together. Jake tried his best to play nice, offering to drive most of them home from the bar at times and buying beers on their nights out. He had made an effort to try and interact more, trying to show interest in their lives but he didn’t think that the rest of the group, save Javy, had actually accepted him into their little makeshift family. He still felt like he wasn’t truly a part of the group, but Mickey’s concern told him that maybe he was wrong.
Fanboy shifted slightly, putting his beer away. “Jake. You can talk to me.”
“I didn’t think, uh, I mean -”
Fanboy smiled, patting his arm reassuringly. “I know. I know you think we don’t care, but we do. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But something is obviously bothering you. If you’re not comfortable with me, Javy might be a better option?”
Jake didn’t know what to say. He waited for the punchline, where Fanboy would laugh and mock him but it never came. Mickey was being sincere. The WSO just waited patiently, fingers drumming on the wooden bar behind them.
“You know, you remind me of my brother.” Mickey picked at his jeans, pulling at the loose strings over the knee. When Jake didn’t respond, he kept on talking.
“His name is Diego. He’s the oldest. There’s five of us, by the way. He’s just like you. Walls up so high you can barely see past them. He always used to make fun of us when we were kids. I hated it. But when I got older, I realised that he was only doing it to push us. Mom and dad put a lot of responsibility on him and he did the best he could.”
Jake listened as Mickey rambled on, the uncomfortable pit in his stomach lessening the longer Fanboy kept talking.
“I know you’re doing the best you can as well. I know that you taunt Rooster with the sole purpose of making sure he pushes his own limits. I can tell. You push us all to be better.”
He swallowed thickly, trying to make out what had transpired in the last 20 minutes. “How? How can you tell?”
Mickey grinned widely. “Like I said, you remind me of Diego,” he grabbed the bottle again, “you’re one of us Jake, even if you don’t think so.”
Jake decided to throw caution to the wind and believe what Fanboy was telling him. If it was all true, then maybe he could talk to him. Maybe he could start being a part of the group. Before he could even open his mouth, Rooster appeared out of thin air and threw an arm around his shoulder.
“HANGMAN! The lady over there is asking about you!” Bradley leaned in closer, as if he was going to share a secret. “I think she wants to fuck you.”
Fanboy snorted loudly, startling Rooster. “Fanboy, didn’t see you there! What do you think, do you think she wants to fuck him?”
A bright red flush was covering Bradley’s cheeks and his eyes were slightly unfocused and glazed over.
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Rooster, how much have you had to drink?”
Bradley was leaning onto Jake now, his head on his shoulder. “You know, you smell good. And your hair is very soft.” Rooster patted Jake’s head, smiling stupidly at his teammate.
“Okay buddy, I think we should get you home.” Bob appeared, slinging Rooster’s unoccupied arm around his shoulder, supporting most of his weight as he pulled him off of Jake. Bradley made a sound of protest as he was separated from Jake.
“No, I was gonna help Hangman get laid. There’s a lady over there, and she’s got the hots for him.” He waved in the general direction of the bar.
“He isn’t interested. So you can go home,” Fanboy laughed, pushing Bradley’s hand away as it aimed for his head.
Bob tried to get him to move, but Bradley turned in his grasp, almost losing his balance. “You’re not? But I was gonna help.” He pouted, leaning back onto Bob who grunted under the extra added weight.
Jake didn’t get the chance to answer as Bob hauled Rooster away with the help of Payback who had snuck up on them. Bradley complained the entire way, waving excitedly to Penny at the bar as his teammates practically carried him out of the door.
“I guess that’s it. You two coming with us or what?” Nat sauntered by, Javy following closely.
Jake was about to agree but Fanboy beat him to it. “In a minute. You go ahead.”
They waved goodbye and Jake itched to follow his best friend. Now it was just him and Mickey. Even though he was about to spill his guts out right before Bradshaw interrupted them, Jake hesitated.
“C’mon, let’s get some air.” Fanboy left his seat and Jake had no choice but to follow him out onto the deck. The sun was long gone, the pale moon taking its place. He could hear the waves crashing against the shore, people laughing further down the beach as they sat around a bonfire, sparkling brightly against the darkness.
“I could tell you were actually going to talk before Rooster interrupted us. Still want to?”
Jake hesitated for a moment before slumping back against the wooden rail. “Have you spoken much to the new team of mechanical engineers that arrived a couple of months ago? Like, Mercury for example,” he sighed as he nodded towards the window. Through it, across the bar, he could see Mercury sitting with her friends.
Mickey stretched out his legs in front of him. “Sure. Mercury is badass. Her team is much better than Rogers and his idiots.” Their former mechanical team had been replaced by Mercury and her co-workers at the beginning of spring. Everyone preferred the new team.
“Well, you see, uh. A couple of weeks ago, I ran into Mercury. And we’ve hung out a few times, outside of work. And I…” Jake trailed off, not knowing how to continue.
Fanboy turned to him, eyes wide. “Are you telling me the reason you’ve been turning down all these women is because you’ve got a crush on Mercury?”
Jake’s heart hammered in his chest, gut twisting slowly. “It’s not that. Well, partly. I can’t stop thinking about her, no matter how much I try to occupy myself. I miss her when I don’t see her for a couple of days and I feel like, I don’t know, all giddy and shit when she smiles.”
“It sounds like more than a crush. So why the sad face man?” Fanboy nudged his side.
“I kissed her. Well, she kissed me. We kissed. And after, she said ‘it was just a kiss’.” Jake deflated with disappointment, trying to hide just how much her response actually hurt him.
Mickey stayed quiet for a while before speaking. “Did you say you wanted something more?”
“I told her that I knew it was just a kiss but asked if it had to be just that.”
“What did she say?”
It hurt more than Jake liked to admit to revisiting what happened after their kiss. “She said that while she liked me, she knew of my reputation and had no intention of being another notch in my bedpost.”
Fanboy clicked his tongue. “And that’s why you’ve stayed away from all the women. Trying to show her that you’re serious?”
Jake hadn’t anticipated for Mickey to see right through him. The emotional turmoil of opening up like this, to have someone listen and not mock, was jarring. Jake didn’t exactly have a lot of those people in his life. But Fanboy stayed, listening patiently as Jake talked.
“Yes. Her words hurt but they’re true. I’m just trying to show her that I’m willing to change, for her. That I have changed.”
His companions' next words cut deeper than they should. “You’re in love with her. This isn’t just a crush.”
He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself. Love wasn’t something Jake was familiar with. It scared him, to be vulnerable and open with someone. To let them see every part of him. But it was true. Over the course of a few short weeks, being in Mercury’s company had him breaking all his own rules as he realised that he did love her.
“Yes.”
“Then you should tell her. Tell her that you’ve changed, for her. Tell her that you love her.”
Jake sighed. “I can’t. She doesn’t feel the same, she made it very clear.”
Mickey slapped his arm, startling him. “Dude! Stop. You said that she said she liked you. If your past is the only thing stopping her, then you need to tell her,” he paused for a moment before lowering his voice, “and you deserve someone, Jake. You deserve love.”
He didn’t want to cry but Mickey’s words brought a wave of emotion upon him. He swiped at his face, trying to hide the tears.
All of what Mickey was saying went against everything Jake had ever been told. His father always told him he was no good and that no one would ever want anything from him. That he would never amount to anything. Never achieve anything.
“It’s okay man. I get it. You’re scared. But in the wise words of my abuela, ‘To love is to be scared. If you’re not scared, it’s not worth it’.”
Jake laughed, a watery sound before wiping his face again. “She sounds like a smart woman.” Jake took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.
Mickey laughed as well, eyes sparkling. “She’s the best,” he looked past Jake, eyes trained on something outside Jake’s field of vision. “If you were to tell Mercury, what would you say to her?”
Jake took a moment to ponder, trying to put his feelings into words. He guessed it was too late to turn back now, Mickey had already seen parts of him he hadn’t shown anyone in years.
“I guess I would tell her how she makes me feel. That her smile brightens my day and that I want to make her laugh. That she makes me push myself to be better, both for myself and her. I’d tell her that I love her, even if it scares me. That I’ve changed and that my past doesn’t matter. She’s the only one I want.”
Fanboy clapped his hands together, smiling widely. “Good.”
“What do you mean ‘good’?” Jake turned but Mickey wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were trained behind him, shit eating grin in place on his face.
Jake turned his head, his eyes landing upon Mercury standing a few feet away, bottle dangling from her hand. He immediately choked up, hands growing clammy as he tried to find his voice. The look on her face told Jake she had heard everything.
“I’m gonna head back inside,” Mickey pushed off the chair before murmuring, “Remember what I said. You deserve love,” to Jake. He then sauntered back into the bar, saluting sloppily as he walked past Mercury.
Jake held his breath, counting to twenty as she approached him, sitting down tentatively in Fanboy’s abandoned seat. Neither of them spoke at first. Jake’s heart was beating so hard against his ribs that he thought it would break free. His palms were sweaty and he wanted to bolt, rush back inside.
“You love me?” She quietly asked, hands twisting in her lap. He desperately wanted to reach out and intertwine their hands but he wasn’t sure it would be welcomed. Mercury chose for him when she grew tired of waiting for an answer.
She reached over, clasping one of his hands between her own. “Jake. Talk to me.”
Mercury was staring at him with a gentle smile. Her face was open and inviting, making Jake feel braver. He could do this.
“Yes. I don’t know when it happened.”
She laughed, squeezing his hand. “Does it matter when it happened?”
“I guess not.”
Neither of them spoke after that but there seems to be no need. All Jake focused on was the feeling of his hand between hers, the way they both seemed to breathe at the same time. It’s peaceful.
“I’m sorry that I said it was just a kiss,” Mercury murmured while tracing the veins on his hand. “I wanted to say it was more than that, but I didn’t want to get hurt.”
“Hurting you is the last thing I want. I want this. Us.” Jake squeezed her hand back, intertwining their fingers. He desperately wanted her to repeat his earlier words back to him but he didn’t want to push her either. He knew he loved Mercury. He could wait while she sorted her feelings out.
After all, he hadn’t exactly planned on telling her nor even approaching her.
“Jake?”
He hummed contentedly, the feeling of her hand in his calming him down better than any trick his therapist had ever taught him.
“If you want to, I’d like that kiss to be more than just a kiss. I want you. Truth is, I think I fell in love with you when we went hiking. I know that’s so long ago and I’m sorry for not telling you but -”
Jake cut her off, cupping her face and pressing their lips together, smiling into the kiss. She loved him. It was all he needed to know. They’d figure the rest out later. If Jake had it his way, they’d have the rest of their lives.
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#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x reader#top gun maverick fic#fe writes#jake hangman seresin
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DPxDC Family Week June 19 (Day 2)
Prompt: Siblings | Play
A/N: All I gotta say is this was heavily inspired by Wayne Family Adventures. I think I focused more no the Play prompt than Siblings, either way please enjoy my Day 2 contribution :D
AO3 Link: DPxDC Family Week Contributions
Danny was in a tricky situation. He carefully checked his surroundings as he crouched behind a bookshelves to reload. The Meta Alliance was off the table. Duke got taken out by Dick. He had seen Damian hunting down Tim earlier, muttering something about using the same trick again despite his warning. Jason was still wandering the halls in search of him loudly offering Danny a new Alliance promising that he wouldn't be shot on sight. He had lost sight of Cass earlier but he knew Steph was hiding on the second floor waiting for Jason to take revenge.
When Dick had come to him and Jazz earlier that day Danny did not expect for the oldest Wayne to hand them each a paintball gun with a wide grin. Only for them to suggest taking part in a game they played every year called Assassin. It was apparently a secret from Bruce that only the children of Bruce Wayne aka Batman took part in.
He had been suspicious of it at first, Jazz and him had only joined the Family for a couple of months now and Dick had suggested they join the game as a bonding experience between siblings with the rest of the family. When Danny didn't let up on his suspicious staring he also offered that it was a way to train and test Danny's stealth against his new siblings.
Only partly convinced, at least in Danny's case, they had joined. The moment they entered the sitting room everyone else was in, Harper, last year's winner according to the others, decided to start with a special alliance to ease Jazz into the game. Only for her to get accidentally taken out. She had made the mistake of forming the alliance with all the girls including Jazz, without prior information that till then only Danny had been privileged to with how often his own sister had souped him. To Harper's credit, she didn't know about the bad aim his sister inherited from their dad. The girl alliance got pretty quickly dissolved then and the Fanton siblings formed a new one, since Danny knew best how bad of a shot Jazz was.
Though Danny additionally had the one with Duke until he got taken out. They honestly had thought that with their Meta-powers they could overwhelm the others. Hell they were a power duo on patrols, this should have been easy. That was until Dick got Duke and Duke in all the dramatic sibling fashion 'died' in a distracting way that made Dick and Danny laugh only for the Ghost to then escape.
"AH FUCK!" Looks like Jason got taken out now too from the sounds of it. Danny didn't stay to find out who took the revenant out. He went invisible and phased through the wall behind him and floated up a floor through it. Carefully to avoid Bruce as well as Alfred so that the two adults shouldn't grow suspicious. Suddenly there was rusting behind him and Danny turned around quickly. He was still invisible so aside from Duke no one should be able to see him right now.
"I know you're here Danny. Show yourself."
"You're wearing your mask with heat-vision?" The question came out before he could help himself as he stared at Tim. Both his hands raised as he held them up, showing that he meant no harm, his paintball gun in his right hand pointing at the ceiling for extra measures while Tim was grinning at him with his gun pointed at Danny.
"Your body temperature is lower than the average human one, especially when you use your powers. It's the easiest way to find you since it was decided that both you and Duke were allowed to use them."
"I see." Danny nodded along. "I take it, you want to take me out right now?"
"If you don't agree to my proposal. Help me take out Damian and Cass."
Danny hummed thinking about it for a second before he noticed movement from the corner of the hall. He grinned, shrugging with his shoulders. "I would but… sorry maybe next time!"
He let himself fall through the floor as Tim cried out, blue splotches on his back appearing. Danny barely missed getting shot too as he fell onto the first floor. An orange splatter left on the wall at the height his chest had been mere seconds ago. Cass standing at the end of the hall as they made one final eye contact before he completely disappeared from sight through the floor.
But he did not get a second of rest as he fell into one of the down stairs sitting rooms. The moment he was through the ceiling and made eye contact with a stunned but then grinning assailant. He flipped to the side barely dodging the colorful rounds shot at him and aimed his own gun. Ten shots, nine missing but the last one finally got his target's leg.
"Gotcha!" He cheered as he floated down grinning brightly at Dick.
"Not bad baby ghost. I didn't expect you and Jazz to be this good. Sure you guys didn't have formal training?" Inspecting his leg the elder smiled, happy at seeing Danny enjoying himself this freely. He still remembered the first month in which Danny barely spoke to anyone aside from his sister. Dick had been a bit worried when he asked the Fanton kids to join their game but he was glad that he did now. The Fantons had come a long way and it appeared that they finally saw the rest of the Waynes as siblings too.
"No, everything is self thought. Though, Jazz hitting Harper was totally an accident considering she had been aiming at-" Their phones buzzed and both each took their own out. Dick whistled. "Baby bird took out Steph. So now it's only you, Jazz, Dami and Cass left. Looks like this year's game will even be over before patrol starts."
"Did it take longer last year?"
Dick nodded. "It went right into patrol time. But maybe it's getting over faster this year because everyone is at the Manor." He didn't mention that he had specifically asked the others to not draw out the game too long. Despite the couple of months, Danny and Jazz were still new to Gotham and the family and they both didn't need distractions during patrol and support.
"Speaking of being at the Manor. Why hasn't Alfred said anything about the paint splatters yet? He is omnipresent, I thought he would be the first to notice." The halfa tilted his head in light confusion. Really with the way Alfred always knew what was going on in the Manor Danny had long since expected for the butler to gather them all to give them a stern talking about playing with paintball guns inside the building.
"It's fine as long as we clean up after ourselves." He raised an eyebrow and Dick rubbed his neck nervously. "And as long as we don't go overboard and damage anything permanently. Besides, sometimes Alfred even ends up joining in on these games to teach us a lesson or to get back at us for all the grief we gave him with injuries in the past."
Danny raised a suspicious eyebrow. "He… won't just do that this time, will he?"
"Nope, but we should clean up here before Bruce comes back. It also helps that most of us only shoot when we are sure that we will hit the others and not something else." Danny nodded, muttering an embarrassed 'sorry' remembering how he let more than one shot lose at his targets. Dick only chuckled, patting his head and offering a cloth piece to wipe the paint from the wall.
Once it was clean Danny gave a grinning Dick a little finger salute before going invisible again and leaving the room. There were only four players left. He wouldn't be able to find Cass but he could try and take out Daimien. Choosing to be as silent as possible Danny used his ghost powers to also float. He turned off his ghostly powers as he came across Bruce and Tim by the stairs. The man was asking Tim about the paint on his neck that he must have splattered there when Cass had taken him out earlier.
"Damian and I got into a disagreement when I passed his atelier earlier. He threw one of his paint brushes at me like a dart."
"Damian wouldn't just do that because of a simple disagreement. What sort of argument did you two get into this time, for it to art out like this?"
Danny frowned slightly. The others never had mentioned what would happen if Bruce found out. He hid his gun on his back under his hoodie.
"Hi Bruce, I think someone must have pissed him off at school. He threw one at me too, when I asked him what got him into a sour mood." Danny decided to add to the lie. Really the youngest stabbiness was a really nice trait that made these lies even more believable. Tim gave him a thumbs up for the support hidden from Bruce's eyes.
"Hello Danny. Maybe I should have a talk with Damian. I cannot have him bring another knife to school again." The man muttered with a sigh as he walked away from them. Tim and Danny grinned at each other before once again Danny saluted before making his way back to the second floor. He had a feeling that he would find Damian or Cass up there.
Hearing voices by the end of the hall where Damian's Atelier was, Danny decided to try and be sneaky. The door was only a gap wide open, he peaked into the room. It hadn't been long since he had meet Bruce with Tim by the stairs but apparently the man was quick with his actions. In the room were said man and the youngest Wayne, Bruce was apparently trying to get Damian to tell him why he was in a sour mood and hurl his paint brushes at his siblings.
Danny snickered, the man's back was to the door and he grinned the moment Damian noticed him peaking in by the door. He gave the youngest a little bit of a mocking wave with the addition of a wide grin as Damian scowled. Bruce apparently took it that Damian did not like the reinforced rule of no knives at school.
Still grinning the ghost boy pulled his gun from the back and aimed it through the door carefully so that Bruce wouldn't notice him. Damian was now flat out glaring deadly at him, daring him to do it in the presence of his father. Waiting for the right time Danny watched Bruce and when the man appeared to look at something at his side he fired a shot. Hitting the youngest square in the chest who quickly despite his deadly glare turned towards one of his unfinished pieces and grabbed some of his art supplies to explain that color splatter as a lapse of his own judgment and frustration of the topic they were discussing.
Danny definitely knew he would be paying for this action later. Damian wasn't as stabby with him like he was with others thanks to Danny's ghostly powers, but that only meant that the youngest was creative in other ways to get back at the halfa. Though right now it only mattered to Danny that he was able to get two of the bat-kids out of the game with no formal training. That grin was whiped of his face when he felt a short sting on his back and his head whipped around to see Cass behind him smiling brightly.
"Lacking situational awareness."
"Okay yea, that was my bad." Letting out a sight he admitted defeat as he in a bout of dramatic essence chose to lay flat on the ground only lifting his head a little to face an amused Cass. Taking out his phone he proceeded to text the group that he had taken out Damian but in return got taken out by Cass. Looks like Cass would be the winner this year, he commented into the chat.
"Finally found you Danny!" Looking up stunned as well as hearing shuffling towards the door from the Atelier Danny looked up to see Jazz standing by the end of the hall now her paintball gun aimed at Danny as Cass dived to the side away from him. Right, his sister was still in the game!
"Let me handle this!"
"Wait Jazz!"
Too late his sister fired multiple shots and in a feat the half ghost honestly thought impossible, the projectiles ricochet off of decorations, leaving small splatters of paint behind them everywhere. The door next to him opened and Danny stared wide eyes up at Bruce and Damian.
"What is going on-"
-splat-
At the end of the day Cass was declared the winner while Jazz was declared the honorary winner by being the first one to ever hit Bruce Wayne aka Batman square in the face with a paintball gun.
Though the siblings all got a stern talking to from the man for playing Assassin inside the Manor as well as Alfreds disappointed look™ that was followed by an amused smile whenever the butler side eyed Bruce. The smiles and looks all the siblings exchanged promised that next year's game would be filled with revenge plans. Maybe till then Jazz's aim would become better with the shooting classes Bruce decided to sign her up for with a knowing smile.
#dpxdcfamilyweek#danny fenton#danny phantom#fanfic#long post#paintgungame#jason todd#damian wayne#duke thomas#dick grayson#richard grayson#tim drake#cassandra cain#stephenie brown#bruce wayne#jazz fenton#dpxdc#dp x dc#no beta wie die like danny#Jazz has bad aim#inspired by batfam webtoon
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Bonding: Damian Wayne x sister!reader
Request: from the prompt list : 4: "Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much
Warning: nothing, it;s just fun and fluff, most likely set in the WFA universe.
***
„What happened to you two?” Dick could barely hold back the terror in his voice upon watching his younger siblings. Jason however was not so considerate and straight forward started laughing at Y/N and Damian, the former with the nose swollen and red like a Rudolf and the latter with childish patches all over his forearms.
“Have you two escaped the circus? Sure as hell with such look you would fit there!” he let out a laugh so loud it captured the attention of no one else than Bruce, who became alerted in an instant. It wasn’t usual for Jason to be this happy and chuckling and it was …. suspicious.
Similar to Dick’s, his face dropped upon seeing his kids in such damaged state and just sighed deeply.
“What did you do?” he rubbed his forehead, looking up to the sky probably wondering what mistake did he make (well, the question should have been – what mistake didn’t he make?). Never before had he looked so fatherly, like when Y/N and Damian started their mischief.
Y/N was the middle child, younger than Dick and Jason, but older than Tim and Damian, but Bruce could swear that sometimes she acted like a literal five year old. Especially when any of her brothers started messing up with her things. Especially when Damian did. No one could ever tell what atrocities she could resort to when he grabbed something that wasn’t his.
“It was all his fault!” Y/N cried out, her voice muffled by the swollen nose and she sounded more like a wounded animal rather than a human being.
“I am beyond your level, Y/N and cannot be blamed for…..”
“SIT!” Bruce growled in desperation, but neither of his kids listened. If anything they started bantering even more.
“Not many parental successes on your account, right Bruce?” Jason mocked, but the oldest Wayne didn’t bother answering. Instead he grabbed Damian by the collar and yanked him back and in the air so his feet started dangling above the ground. Luckily Y/N was too tall to do that to her as well.
“This is derogatory” Damian crossed his arms and pouted, the funniest look of her brother making Y/N laugh loudly “put me down, father so I can kick her ass again and….”
“Again?” Bruce eyes focused on his youngest son “what do you mean, again?”
“Nothing!” Y/N chimed in, desperate to keep some kind of secret
“Oh, are you ashamed to admit you got beaten by me in the combat, dear sister?”
“Shut up you little rascal!” Y/N threw herself at him, but this time it was Dick who grabbed her and hold her back
“What did he do?” Grayson asked, knowing well enough how much of a menace Damian could be
“NOTHING!” the boy struggled against his father’s grip
“Who’s afraid to admit what now?!” Y/N smirked at him.
“Ok, that’s it” clearly it was Jason who lost patience first “talk or I’ll draw blood.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” His sister threw him a daring gaze
“Wanna try me, sis? You already got a swollen nose and I can bet that this guy you like…..”
“SHUT UP JASON!”
“wait, there’s a guy?” Bruce was confused “who is he? Why didn’t I met him? How much does he know about us?”
“Not the time, Bruce!”
“LET ME GO DICK!!”
“Sorry, sunshine can’t really do that. Unless you tell us what happened.”
“fine!” she hissed “fine! I’ll tell you!”
An hour ago
“DAMIAN WAYNE!” her voice echoed through the whole Wayne Manor and made the glassed windows shake. Honestly, how could no one in the family of vigilante hear that was beyond her. “you little piece of shit, where the hell are you!?”
“Have you called me sister?” Damian emerged from his room, looking nothing but innocent with the play-pretend smile. But Y/N knew better. She was fairly aware that he was skillful in using that Wayne gene trying to charm people. Too bad his eyes were glistening with mischief.
“You can’t play me, you demon.”
“Did something happened?” he titled his head in curiosity, observing his sister getting more and more angry. Oh, how entertaining it was to see her face get red, her fist clench. Fascinating how girl’s hormones worked.
But clearly, he underestimated Y/N. Yes, she was an emotional young woman surrounded by no less than four brothers, but she was also an adopted Wayne. And the realization of that fact made her calm down. Damian wanted her to get mad. Which meant he had some sort of plan.
“My little, sweet, wonderful, lovely brother.” She quickly changed the method of acting
“Huh?” Damian frowned, still not used to people acting nice towards him. This was…. unexpected. Y/N was clearly cunning and he had to be prepared.
“Tell me, did you happen to see my phone somewhere around?”
“No.” the answer was clearly too fast to be convincing.
“Really?” she smiled and looked over his shoulder inside his room. The perks of being taller and seeing more. “Then what is lying there on your desk?”
“That’s mine.”
“Damian…..” her voice became serious, her posture tensing “give it back to me. Now.”
“No.” he crossed arms, mimicking her position. Oh, they were both preparing for a fight, neither even beginning to consider the option of relenting. “does father know about your little crush?”
“YOU WERE READING MY TEXTS?!!?”
“Do you even realize in how much danger you put us because of your silly little….”
“AH!!” he did not get to finish the sentence when she went at him taking him by surprise. However, not enough of a surprise that he didn’t manage to step back. Instead of pining him to the ground she tripped and dashed into his room, immediately reaching towards the bed to grab her mobile, but Damian grabbed her arm and yanked her back.
“You little rascal!” she yelled, when they started a real Batman-style fight. “It’s mine!”
“it’s a violation of the rules!” he spat back “we’re not supposed to be in a relationship with civilians!”
“what would you know about relationships?!” Y/N blocked his punch, turning around and tripping him up. “you were raised by freaking assassins!”
“How bad we don’t get to choose family, right?” he hissed, falling on his back on the ground but immediately getting up and attacking her again.
Y/N was good, skilled and intuitive, but Damian was smaller and maybe a bit faster and that’s why she did not see it coming when he glanced off the mattress and landed on her back, trying to tackle her to the ground
“GET OFF ME!” she yelled trying to untangle his arms from her neck
“Not a chance!”
They were struggling so hard that at one point this fight moved towards the corridor and with just one wrong step they started falling down the stairs, still doing their best to damage one another. Damian was pulling at Y/N hair, while she covered his eyes in an attempt to blind him. It took a few minutes of weltering, grunting and dapping before they ended up at the base of the stairs.
“Auch…..” they both moaned in unison, their bones and bones already bruised and damaged. It really did hurt.
“HAHA! I won!” Damian yelled as he realized that the position in which they landed allowed him to sit on top of her sister, his weight holding her down.
“Get off me you idiot…..” she whined trying to push him away, but not succeeding at all.
“Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much, Y/N” Damian laughed at her poor, week attempt to get rid of him.
“AH!” she cried out again and started waving her hands at him, Damian instantly started the same and now they were laying on the floor, with him still on top of her, acting like toddlers and emitting battle cries.
“MASTER DAMIAN! MISS Y/N!”
Shit.
Alfred.
The butler just sighed deeply, too used to many very strange views and behaviors around the manor. Too many to care and ask questions.
“Please get up from the floor. Miss Y/N, your nose is bleeding and as for you, Master Damian you got bloody scratches all over your arms.”
“Sorry Alfred.” They followed every word Alfred said to them and stood beside him with their heads hanging low.
“Let’s patch you two up.” Alfred motioned them towards the living room, gathering medical supplied on the way.
Now.
“And he gave you a animal shaped patch!” Jason laughed so hard he had to grab his belly, almost rolling of the couch
“Didn’t you hear a word, Jace? He took her phone! She had every right to be angry and act irrational…” Dick took his sister’s site
“Hm.” Bruce grunted
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but good job on being stealthy” Jason chucked towards Damian “normally it would be Tim to try and do such thing.”
“Are you taking his side now?” Y/N’s eyes went wide “I can’t believe….. ah!” sudden outburst made her nose bleed even more and she held the nearby cloth tighter to the bruised part of her face. “mhmmmhmhm” she mumbled grumpily
“Hm” Bruce grunted again
“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Dick turned towards his father in a bit of shock. Normally Bruce would be the one to punish them both for disobeying the rules of the Manor but now he was just sitting on the couch, his mind wondering elsewhere.
“no.”
“What?!” four pair of surprised eyes landed on him in pure disbelief of how he acted.
“Wouldn’t make any difference. Another day another fight. Just…. apologize to each other. I’m going to the batcave. Dick, Jason come with me.”
“The hell I’m going to ….” Jason started but the look in Bruce eyes made him relent. And that was how Y/N and Damian ended up alone in the living room, sitting next to each other, eyes on the floor.
“Does it hurt much?” he asked
“Not much more than yesterday. I’ll be fine. “ she shrugged like nothing happened “Do you think they know?”
“About what? Our secret plan to make them all crazy and take over the manor?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“Not sure. Might need some more observation on the matter.”
“So….. we do it again tomorrow?” she smirked
“Oh, absolutely” he smiled back at her, eyes sparkling. It was always fun to fight with her.
“Then can I have my phone back?”
“Sure, I’ve seen all there was to see. “
“I hate you, Damian.” Y/N grinned looking at him
“I hate you too, sis.” He replied with a smirk
And just like that, they bumped their fists. All was good between them.
****
Meanwhile, Tim was hidden in the batcave, glued to the computer, not realizing anything of the events happening upstairs. He only raised his head once he heard Bruce, Dick and Jason entering.
“Did they do it again?” he asked seeing Bruce’s harrowed face, being enough of an answer “Ha! Life never gets boring with those two troublemakers around!”
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Vikings (TV) Masterlist
my requests for vikings are currently partially OPEN! please only request imagines, and not oneshots. for those waiting for a continuation of ‘searching home’ or ‘unexpected’ i am so sorry... finishing those two is going to take me a while :/
hmu/msg me to be added to a taglist!
main masterlist | request guidelines
heorte til heorte
(msg me to be added to the taglist!)
relationship: athelstan x alethia stahl (oc) | summary: alethia wanted to go home, to return to her family. instead, she finds herself in ninth-century england. not speaking the language, and still processing the grief of her other life, she searches for an anchor - athelstan. | tags: angst, fluff, timetravel
masterlist | preview | read on ao3
No romantic relationships // character x character
Queendom - relationship: Lagertha x Aslaug | summary: They’ve both loved and they’ve both lost. Perhaps it was time that their hearts warmed again. | tags: angst, fluff
The Lothbroks, aka, the European version of the Kardashians - relationships: none | summary: When Barbie Murray time travels, she finds out that pink isn’t available in Viking times. Luckily, her new besties all understand that boobs are the best and slay (literally?!) with her. | tags: crack, fluff, timetravel
I may be a bimbo, but I’m not stupid - relationships: slight oc/ oc | summary: Ivar kills Sigurd in a fit of rage, but Barbie isn't so quick to forgive cruelness. | tags: angst, crack, timetravel
1st gen Vikings
Strange Woman relationship: Rollo x timetraveler!reader | summary: The woman that appeared out of nowhere could be oh so dangerous, but even a stupid man would know that she was fascinating. | tags: fluff, timetravel
Friend of Thor - relationship: rollo x timetraveler!asgardian!reader | summary: The reader, a fellow Asgardian and friend of Thor and the new King of Asgard, Brunnhilde, falls through worlds as the new guardian of the Bifrost tampers with the magic. | tags: crack, fluff, timetravel
And the Gods wished they were me - relationship: Judith x viking!gn!reader | summary: Judith knows she should not mourn Athelstan. Nor should she even look at Norse heathens. She does both anyway, because Judith was named after a woman that had only rage and death, and she cannot escape her fate. | tags: angst, fluff
Ubbe Ragnarsson
Another day / part 2 - relationship: Ubbe x reader | prompt: we live to fight another day. | tags: angst
Oldest - relationship: Ubbe x timetraveler!reader; platonic!Ivar x reader | summary: It seems that few things change about being the oldest sibling, no matter which place – or time | tags: fluff, timetravel, slight angst
Yggdrasil relationship: Ubbe x reader; platonic!Ivar x reader; dad!Harald x reader | summary: How can you tell your father what happened to you when he’d done it to so many others. | tags: angst, dark/gory
Hvitserk 'Whiteshirt' Ragnarsson
Hvitserksdottir - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | prompt: “I think we need to talk about the fact that I’m in love with you and also that I’m pregnant.” | tags: angst, fluff
Floki’s Cabin - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | prompt: “Just trust me. Please. | tags: angst
Searching Home / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationships: Hvitserk x reader; Ivar x reader | summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long. | tags: angst, fluff, dark/gory, timetravel
Neither - relationship: genderfluid!reader x Hvitserk | Summary: Hvitserk finds out about genderfluidity and accepts he might not be completely straight | tags: fluff, timetravel
Law of conservation - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | summary: You’ve been working as a tutor at your high school for about a year now. When your parents throw a barbecue party for your new neighbors, their mother Aslaug asks you to tutor her son Hvitserk, who is already a notorious flirt at his school. | tags: fluff
Sandcastles - relationship: platonic!hvitserk x timetraveler!reader | summary: reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it | tags: fluff, timetravel
When in Bali... - relationships: hvitserk x reader, ivar x freydís, sigurd x oc | summary: You were supposed to go to Bali with your partner for your one-year anniversary. Instead, you’re there alone, heartbroken. Will reuniting with a friend you know from a summer vacation in elementary school be able to fix it? | tags: fluff
Ivar 'the Boneless' Ragnarsson
Unholy Matrimony - A Sham in Four Acts / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationship: Ivar x reader | prompt: I’ve learnt to love you. | tags: angst, fluff smut
Insatiable Little Heathens - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: drabble, for all of y’all who wanted more of Unholy Matrimony | tags: fluff
Resolve - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: Ivar’s legs hurt but he’s so fucking thickheaded | tags: fluff
My kind of witch - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar bed. The man with blazing blue eyes fascinates you as soon as you see him and as you realize the struggles he faces every day, your admiration for him grows into something more. | tags: fluff, timetravel
Red - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: Ivar finally meets his match. | tags: smut, dark/gory
Serve - relationship: sub!ivar x buff!reader | summary: Ivar keeps teasing you. You finally have enough and give him a taste of his own medicine | tags: smut
Searching home / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationships: Hvitserk x reader; Ivar x reader | summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long. | tags: angst, fluff, smut, dark/gory, timetravel
Totally artistic - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: When inspiration hits, you can’t stop it | tags: fluff
Sandcastles - relationship: platonic!hvitserk, ivar x timetraveler!reader | summary: reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it | tags: fluff, timetravel
Brother - relationships: ivar x reader, hvitserk & reader, reader & oc | summary: You left your home and your brother behind for a reason. Now, a man is causing trouble at the borders of Kattegat, and as Ivar's queen, you take justice into your own hands. | tags: fluff
Unexpected / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 - relationship: ivar x thrall!reader | summary: Ivar finally decides to fuck the slave he’s been eyeing for so long, but when his angry side slips out, things take a turn for the wholly unexpected. | tags: smut
Tarot - relationships: ivar x reader, hvitserk & reader | summary: Your day at the fair has been pretty slow – until a client like no other shows up. | tags: fluff
Imagines
How the Vikings would react to an accidental time traveler and a quiz to see if you’d survive: https://uquiz.com/dVXpgW
Ragnarssons (+Gyda): First Kiss
Social Media
How the Vikings would react to guns and snapchat filters
How the Vikings would react to modern dancing
How the Vikings would react to modern music, and what they’d like
How the Vikings would react to modern concepts of astronomy and space
How the Vikings react to modern haircare
Vikings and Astrology
How Vikings would react to THEM timetraveling
Vikings + getting sick
Vikings + Halloween
Vikings + realizing you’re pregnant
Vikings characters + how they'd react to finding Accidental Time Traveler crying somewhere and not knowing why
Vikings + you on your period (+ more hcs about Ivar)
Vikings + Legos
Vikings + reader being much less stressed in their time
Vikings + single mother
Vikings + Gender Neutral Thor
Vikings + modern food
Vikings + touch avoidant cuddler
Vikings + Kids
Vikings + their history
Ragnarssons + being possesive
Vikings + Maleficent/Fae!reader
Vikings + curls and afros
Vikings + sleeping habits
Vikings + contortionist/super flexible reader
Vikings as modern!uni students
Vikings + affectionate drunk!reader
timetraveling!Vikings + modern tv/movies
Vikings + gen z slang
Vikings + curly haired kids
timetraveling!Vikings + Christmas
Vikings + eras other than their own
Vikings + ivar being remembered/famous
#vikings#ivar#ivar x reader#hvitserk#hvitserk x reader#ubbe#ubbe x reader#ivar ragnarsson x reader#ivar ragnarsson#hvitserk ragnarsson#hvitserk ragnarsson x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x reader#history vikings#vikings imagine
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♡ POV: Being The Itoshi Brother’s Elder Sister ♡
Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4
An introduction to the oldest sibling
you are a very popular idol in Japan (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵)
tags: idol!you, crack comedy, reunion, familial love, sfw
notes: well… being popular and also being the eldest of the Itoshi siblings, you are undeniably very dramatic, sassy and gorgeously demanding in every way.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•
“Why isn’t he answering my calls!”
You scowled and threw your phone across the room, scaring your manager in the process.
“C-calm down,” your manager scurried to pacify your tantrum.
Pouting cutely as Mr manager massages your back with nervous peals of laughter, you complained, “Does he not love me anymore?”
You just completed your commercial shooting for the day and were looking forward to surprising your cute youngest brother. Why? Well, it is obviously not because you are the most loving sister but because you saw Rin and this blue lock thingamajig on the news by chance٩( ᐛ )و .
It just hit you that you’ve never really stayed in contact with your family members being so busy with your line of work. Being popular is no easy task sigh suffering from success ✌︎('ω')✌︎.
So, seeing your youngest brother in the news instead of yourself prompted you to feign the “concerned-older-sister” role.
In your Versace heels, you sauntered towards the strewn phone. Very bothered and annoyed by how Rin is not picking up the call, you continuously and unyieldingly called him.
And finally, the call went through.
“Rin-”
“WHO ARE YOU AND WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING ME?! STOP IT!”
Your eyes twitched, “and who are you supposed to be?”
“YOU ARE THE ONE WHO CALLED ME, AREN’T YOU SUPPOSE TO KNOW WHO I AM?”
*BEEP*
The stranger on the other side of the call aggressively put down the phone.
Oh… you got the wrong number. After years of having no contact with Rin obviously, he would have changed his number. Ehe ~
Blushing at your silly mistake, you gripped your phone and quickly dialled another saved contact which you know will definitely be the right number… hopefully ╮(╯▽╰)╭
As soon as you pressed the call button, the other side of the line quickly picked up the call.
“Sister.”
How you missed that deadpan voice that brought you butterflies to your stomach so much that it hurts.
“How can you be so heartless to your sister, Sae,” you dramatically whined at him, “but it flatters me that you picked up the phone so quickly. I think I just fell in love! Aren’t you in Spain right now?”
A quick calculation on Japan and Spain’s time zone, Sae should still be asleep right now. Was it because he is always waiting for his deadly gorgeous sister to call him\(//∇//)\?
But his next sentence brought you out of your delusion.
“I’m in Japan right now, didn’t you see my text?”
“Oh,” you managed to blurt out. You definitely did not see that text. (・・?)
“Why did you call? You rarely call,” Sae broke the silence with a fact.
Yes, a FACT that you never bothered to contact either Sae or Rin since pursuing your dream of becoming an idol at the tender age of 12 years young. It’s been years since you have spoken to them, therefore it’s a fact that you have been a very absent sister.
That does not mean you were not aware of the inner workings and happenings of the Itoshi household. Be it the brothers having some drama between them or Sae finding success in Spain or whatever. You have your own sources, it only depends on how fast or slow news reaches you, an example being the ever-so-elusive Rin.
You quickly cleared your throat and proposed, “Let's go on a date to catch up since you are in Japan!”
At the very corner of the room, Mr manager stumbled upon the very word “date”.
“That’s impossible,” Sae said word for word leaving you extremely astonished.
“Why?”
Sae mentally sighed at you —his sister. He always knew you weren’t the brightest star in the sky but he did not want to explain that you being the most popular idol in Japan and him being the best football player in Japan casually hanging out together in public despite being siblings is just a present for the media —literally making it Christmas for them.
He could already imagine the headlines.
“Are you embarrassed by your sister, Mr hotshot,” Sae's lips drew a line at your overly dramatic tendencies.
“No… let’s just not meet in public,” he tried to compromise.
There was a silence on the other side of the line until you spoke up, “Alright then, 12:30pm at my house.”
“Ok. When- ”
“Today.”
Sae looked at his watch: 11am. He didn’t really have any plans today too.
“Ok.”
“I’ll send you the location!” With that, you hung up the phone.
Yet again, Sae let out another long mental sigh. He got some explaining to do to his manager.
You on the other hand, mentally cheered.
Whatever you want, you got it. Talk about being extremely demanding — thank goodness your little brother was extremely compliant.
~
Hearing the doorbell ring, you wasted no time opening the door and embraced the person in front of you not caring about personal space.
Sae could only stand still hands still on each side of his body — stood rooted on the ground.
“You’ve grown so tall!” You took a good look at Sae. Oh, what a handsome young man he has grown into! You wondered how many girl's hearts he has broken with his devilish looks, especially with that deadpan expression of his.
“That goes the same for you too.”
That is true, you were above the average female height making companies want to hire you to be their model. Perfect body, perfect face — the perfect recipe for being the most popular idol! ☆〜（ゝ。∂）
“Don’t you miss your sister?” You smiled cheekily awaiting his response.
“Not really,” as expected from your younger brother.
“Don’t be so cold~ I prepared some of your favourite dishes.” You led Sae into the dining room. The table was filled with delivery food.
She must’ve rushed to order all these, Sae thought to himself.
Despite being a cold and arrogant football player, Sae still knows how to respect his elders. He sat on the chair and slowly helped himself.
“Eat up!” You cheered.
You took a sit in front of Sae eyeing him as he elegantly ate the food with the most immaculate posture.
The reason why you called Sae out or more accurately over to your house was to obviously get Rin’s number.
You could have easily gotten his number from your parents but before your brain could get to that idea, Sae was already in front of you. So uh why not just ask him. (๑･̑◡･̑๑)
You wouldn’t consider yourself stupid, and some people might even call you a bimbo oh the audacity, but that’s beside the point!!
“Do you have a girlfriend?” That was your way to break the ice. Ehe~ ✌︎('ω')✌︎
“No time for that.”
“Does Rin have a girlfriend?”
“Sister.” Sae stopped and eyed you.
“So does he?” Ignorance was a blessing so you keenly eyed Sae waiting for his response.
“…”
“Can I have his number then?” You shamelessly took out your phone and gave it to Sae not caring if he was uncaring or not.
To be honest, you weren’t too sure if Sae had Rin’s number due to their damn drama going on but part of you were confident Sae had it. After all, he’s an older brother to Rin.
And true enough, he did have Rin’s number. Sae took your phone and inserted Rin’s number without referring to his phone, meaning he knew his number by heart.
Oho~
You took back your phone and smiled, “what a good brother you are.”
Sae did not say a thing to that.
“So where are you staying while you are here in Japan?”
“Hotel.”
Hotel? Hmmm, you could finally be a good older sister if you allowed him to stay in your penthouse. That is right! What a great idea from my brilliant mind!
“Come stay with me,” you offered, or more like you demanded, “Don’t reject me please, Sae.”
You held both of his hands with a good grip and looked at him with your best puppy eyes that won the hearts of millions. No way he can say no right? PLEASE JUST SAY YES.
Sae wavered and thought about it. He would immediately leave after the U-20 Japan vs Blue Lock match, so it’s just a temporary adjustment.
“Ok.” He surrendered.
Plus, he could never win against his only older sister.
-
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Rin looked at the unknown number and decided to ignore the call.
“Who was that?” Isagi, who was beside him doing yoga, asked him.
“Unknown.”
“What if it’s someone or something important?”
“If it’s so important then I would already have the number saved already, no?”
-
“Rin-” you sobbed (crocodile tears ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ), “he really don’t care about me anymore…”
It’s nighttime, and you are in your silk pyjamas still trying to get through Rin to no avail. Sae who is on the sofa highly entertained, listening to your ruckus like it’s a soap opera.
Then it really dawned on you — the realisation that what if Rin really hates you. But you quickly dismissed the idea.
Nah no way~ Rin doesn’t even hate Sae. He’s just being a tsundere, plus, he’s still going through puberty!♪(´ε｀ )
You looked over to Sae and asked him, “How am I supposed to get close to cute little Rin Rin?”
Sae thought to himself about the upcoming U-20 Japan vs Blue Lock match. He was about to suggest to you to watch them play, however, he soon realised that you aren’t just a normal person — you, Miss Top Idol, watching a football match. Let that sink in.
-
-time skip-
Murmurs and excitement filled the stadium on match day.
Although it’s not summer, you dressed in all black — black fedora, black jacket, black pants, black sunglasses and black mask — it was a portable sauna. All that trouble to disguise yourself to not garner attraction.
Breathing heavily under the mask, your sunglasses began to fog up. You swear you looked like the most suspicious person right this second.
Not only that, sweaty spectators were all around you. How could a renowned celebrity like you stand this kind of treatment?
You stared long and hard at the empty football field. Where are they?
This was taking too long and you were starting to get very impatient and uncomfortable.
Slowly you took out your fedora, letting out your silky dark hair to flow out of its restraints.
The next second, you took out your jacket. Underneath was a simple white shirt that revealed your smooth skin.
As the time ticked away, you also took out the mask — that to be very honest, was starting to annoy you, your sunglasses kept getting fogged up! (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)
Not knowing when the match was going to start, you tapped on the shoulder of the young boy right next to you.
“When is it going to start?”
The young boy turned and felt something stuck in his throat. The moment he laid eyes on you he thought you were a celebrity. Even though the sunglasses were hiding half of your face, he really thought you looked like someone famous.
“E-eh,” he stuttered.
“Eh?” You repeated after him.
“There! They are about to come out!” His attention was immediately drawn to the field.
The roars of the crowd erupted throughout the stadium as U-20 Japan and Blue Lock emerged to the field.
You squinted as hard as possible trying to take a good look at the players.
Sae and Rin then appeared in your line of sight, both of them in different jerseys.
SAE! RIN! You felt yourself feeling more excited than you should.
-
Sae’s eyes course through the crowd to your allotted seat (that he assigned you to). Rin, who was right beside Sae, followed his brother’s line of sight.
Rin found out that his brother was looking at a woman. She was waving at Sae (or someone else, it was hard to tell with the crowd) animatedly. But the more he looked at the woman in sunglasses, the more she looked awfully familiar.
“Sister?” Rin finally spoke up.
Rin momentarily reminisce the days when he would be in the warm embrace of his sister whenever he cried.
But before any sappy sibling reunion, the match between the two brothers was just about to start.
-
Aww~ Rin also grew up so handsomely, and to think he is taller than Sae. You thought to yourself, happy.
As the match went on, you were met with a conundrum. Which team should you be supporting?
When U-20 Japan scored a goal, you cheered. When Blue Lock scored a goal, you cheered.
The young boy beside you was also confused as to who you supported.
The match continued with great intensity. You continued with your cheering in spite of not knowing too much about football.
In the end, Blue Lock won and the crowd went crazy.
You saw Sae talking to Rin in the middle of the field. Sae looked impassive as usual and Rin, you noticed, had an expression on him that caused your elderly sister's instinct to activate.
-
Turns out, what you witnessed was the part where Sae was gassing up Isagi instead of acknowledging Rin’s growth as a striker.
“-and,” Sae continued, “your sister has been calling out for you. Don’t ignore her.”
Rin stared at Sae’s back as he parts from him.
True enough, when he turned back to the crowd, he saw you mouthing his name.
Rin jogged towards your seating area and as he approaches, his right hand rubbed the back of his neck feeling bashful.
-
Up top at the spectator's seat, you saw Rin jogging towards you.
You hasten your steps down the stairs and gave your littlest (and very sweaty) brother the warmest embrace.
“You did great,” you softly whispered.
No matter how big he gets, he is still a kid.
“H-hey, isn’t that the popular idol?” The murmurs in the crowd continued, interrupting your reunion.
The spectators soon became privy to the idol in the stadium.
How did this come to be?
Well, to put it simply, you carelessly took off your last remaining “cover-up” —your sunglasses— in the heat of the moment as soon as the match ended. ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚
To say the least, the very next day news began pouring out about the Itoshi Siblings.
☆〜（ゝ。∂）the end (for now) ☆〜（ゝ。∂）
<;no pairings yet! *evil laughing* I plan to create a blue lock harem>
Part 2
#claire writes things#blue lock#itoshi sae#rin itoshi#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock sae itoshi#itoshi sae x reader#bllk isagi#bllk fluff#bllk headcanons#bllk scenarios#bllk x y/n#bllk sae#bllk x reader#bllk rin#bllk series#blue lock rin itoshi#itoshi brothers#bllk hcs#bllk nagi#blue lock nagi#bllk x you
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wolfstar wips
So I'm using the @hprecfest day 12 prompt "a WIP you're following" to post a short rec list of WIPs that has been sitting in my drafts for so long now I even had to remove a fic that had been finished in the meanwhile!
Something rotten in Grimmauld Place by @plecotusauritus (8,802 words, Hamlet AU) This is a wolfstar Hamlet AU, need I say more?? I've never much cared or thought about Hamlet since I read it in school but this fic (almost) makes me want to reread Hamlet and I can't wait to see where the story goes next, I love the atmosphere this fic captures, the lovely writing style and just seeing all these characters we know so well fit into the plot of Hamlet is so, so cool!!
the oldest recipe for parsnip soup by @eyra (10.639 words, modern AU, christmas fic) Getting another fic by eyra for the holidays has been such a wonderful treat! I love the whole setting and the characters of this fic so much already, especially Sirius!! And the writing and all the descriptions are so, so beautiful, as always, highly recommend checking it out!!
Welcome to Aphrodite by @de-sire-blog & @rhabarberjunge (18.957 words, magical AU, secret identities) this is one of those fics I've read a while ago, but I keep thinking about it because I loved it so much. I don't want to give away too much of the plot, but the premise is Sirius finding a hidden, adults-only club that makes people's secret desires come true, and of course Sirius's secret desire is Remus... It's hot, it's fun, and it's incredibly angsty, I love it.
Stitched into My Skin by @squintclover (19.297 words, canon divergent AU, memory loss) I love the heartache and all the bittersweetness that comes with memory loss fics so much already, and I am so obsessed with the way it's been done in this fic. The premise of the fic is Peter casting a memory loss charm on Sirius on October 31st 1981, which leads to Remus raising Harry and randomly coming across Sirius years later, only Sirius doesn't remember him. I'm so intrigued by the first few chapters already and can't wait to see where the story goes next!
Marauder FM by @hollyivydruzy (26.402 words, modern AU, radio AU, enemies to friends to lovers) I know I've recced this fic before but I will never shut up about it because I love it, and especially this fic's Remus so, so much! It's an iconic, funny radio AU set in London, and I wish the radio shows from this fic were real because I would listen to Sirius's radio show every morning if I could. I just love the vibe of all of them working at the radio station together and the slow burn enemies to friends (to lovers) is so delicious!
The Patchwork of Us by @tracingpatternswrites (27.502 words, modern AU, enemies to lovers, co-parenting Teddy) This is such a lovely fic about Sirius and Remus navigating the difficult situation of co-parenting Teddy after Tonks dies, I love the domesticity and the enemies to lovers vibe of this fic so much!
The Picture of Sirius Black by @lynxindisguise (30.049 words, Dorian Gray AU) okay anyone who has ever seen my blog knows how much I love lynx's writing, which is why I am also obsessed with this fic, even though it's a genre I'm usually not that familiar with. It's a Dorian Gray AU, it's gothic horror but especially the first few chapters are also giving victorian romcom with murder sideplot vibes (and I mean this as the biggest compliment), this fic will make you laugh and cry and want to murder some of these characters yourself maybe.
Only Fools Are Satisfied by grumposaur (@pancakehouse) (38.353 words, modern AU, tennis AU). I really love the exploration of Sirius's family dynamics in the context of him being a professional athlete in this fic, and Remus with his tanlines and freckles is everything!!
Neon Moon by @krethes (47.698 words, modern AU, cowboy stripper Remus AU, Las Vegas) I didn't know how much I needed Remus to be a stripper and a cowboy before I read this fic, but now I do and I love him!! The whole premise of them meeting at a strip club while Sirius is out on James's bachelor party is so iconic, and the vibes of the fic are just overall excellent, highly recommend checking it out!
on another ocean by @colgatebluemintygel (118.148 words, modern AU, backpacking/interrail, friends with benefits) Where do I even start? This is an incredible fic, one of my all time faves, I've reread some of the chapters several times now and am so obsessed with this fic's Remus in his socks and sandals, driving Sirius crazy with lust. Also I will not spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it, but the scene in the budapest chapter in the club bathroom features one of my favorite Sirius moments of all time, across all universes haha.
marginalia by @spindrifters (266.547 words, magical AU, canon divergent AU - Grindelwald won, slavery AU) I'm having a hard time trying to put my love for this fic into words in just a short paragraph. This fic is so unique in its setting, and it's so beautifully written and asks & answers the question "what if Grindelwald had won?" in such an incredible, highly political and also very immersive way, if you haven't read it already I really recommend checking it out (as well as the already complete Tedromeda spinoff set in the same world, history books!!!).
Staying Strangers by 3amAndCounting (319,368 words, modern AU, texting fic, university AU). This is one of my comfort fics, I love a good texting AU, this is quite a popular fic anyways but if you haven't read it and like modern AUs & texting fics (though it isn't all just texting) go check it out!
#hprecfest2023#wolfstar wip#wolfstar#fic rec#wolfstar fic#wip#rec list#wip rec list#also i put these in order of their lenght because whenever i do a rec list that's not just chronological from doing daily fic recs#i have a small crisis over in which order i want to put them#also i just KNOW as soon as i post this i will remember another wip i've forgotten to mention so PLEASE feel free to reblog this and add#more current wolfstar wips (either ur own or someone elses!) if you want to!!! <3
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Except Me ~S16!Emily Prentiss xFem Reader
Inspired by @captainchilly ‘s post. Felt like this needed a blurb/fic of Emily finally getting fucked after the events of Season 16. With a cameo of S16 Spencer Reid!
Mommy…Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, pet names, smut, eating out, fingering, age gap (all legal), sex, etc.
Enjoy (;
It had been a week since the Sicarius case had closed, and Emily still couldn’t get a wink of sleep.
She was restless. Too restless.
There was so much unknown in the balance… What exactly was going to happen with Lee Duval? What was Gold Star? How were Doug, the Atorney General, and Tara’s ex connected to it?
In light of all this, Emily decided she would go visit one of her oldest and most trusted friends from the BAU— Spencer.
It was restless, too quiet Tuesday when Emily was making her way to the university Spencer was currently lecturing at.
Being a professor fit Spencer well; he had found more community and even a girlfriend. Emily was truly happy for him. But she also missed seeing his hope filled face and being around his information stuffed mind.
She sighed, exiting her parked car, and making her way to the lecture hall in which Spencer was just about finishing his 8am lecture on behavior.
Emily silently entered the classroom and waited patiently in the corner for Spencer to wrap up. He looked like he was truly in his element, Emily thought as she watched him talk.
Spencer noticed Emily the second she had entered the hall. He had sent her a warm smile as he continued to teach, followed by a look of concern washing over his face.
Eventually, Spencer wrapped up and dismissed the class, and the students all exited the lecture hall.
Emily made her way over to Spencer, “Hey Reid. How’s teaching treating you?”
“Hey Em, really good, thanks. How are you, I heard about your recent, more difficult case?” Reid responded, voice laced with concern and care.
As the two caught up, Spencer led Emily into his office for more privacy. They both sat down.
Emily sighed in defeat, “So yeah… and now where trying to figure out what this gold star is…”
“Emily, have you been sleeping?” Spencer interrupted Emily’s finishing conclusions on the case.
“Uh… I’m trying. It’s hard. Why?”
They both knew why…
There was silence in the room between the two old friends for a while.
“I… have a suggestion…” Spencer hesitated.
“Yes?” Emily asked, her features perking up at the sound of Spencer’s mind working out some sort of possible solution.
“When’s the last time you got laid, Emily?”
“I’m sorry?” Emily chocked on her own air.
“It.. it might be beneficial…” Spencer went right back to his younger, stuttering self, trying to explain himself, which made Emily’s heart melt.
He cleared his throat, “It might be beneficial for you. Sex is often shown to help with stress relief and insomnia.”
Emily scoffed.
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” She said while rubbing her temples.
“I may have someone.” Spencer offered.
“What?” Emily asked, not fully registering what Spencer was saying.
“A colleague of mine, a professor L/N, has her own set of obstacles, but the point is that she could benefit from having sex as well.”
Emily was flabbergasted.
“Spencer… You do know that just because we’re both not straight, does not mean we will immediately like each other right?” She skeptically questioned her friend.
“No, no, I know. But, will you just meet her? Her office is room 116.”
“Spencer, you amaze me sometimes…” Emily sighed in defeat, “But sure, if it will satisfy you, I will go talk to your colleague.”
Spencer had a grin plastered on his face at her words.
As Emily walked out to go find you in room 116, Spencer called out, “You can thank me later!”
Emily huffed as she made her way through the campus to your office.
Spencer wasn’t wrong though… She desperately needed to get laid…
But she was tired. She didn’t want to go deal with a rejection from a stranger. Especially right now.
Eventually, Emily found your office. She knocked at the door.
“Come in!” You called, while grading your seemingly never ending stacks of papers.
Emily heard your words, opened the door, entered the room, and closed the door behind her.
“Hello, How can I help you?” You asked the stranger in your office, setting your grading pen down for the moment.
“I’m Emily Prentiss, Dr. Reid’s friends.” Emily introduced herself, shaking your hand.
Your face lit up at her words, “Oh yes! I’m Y/N. Spencer has told me a good deal about his old team at the BAU. Please, do sit, although I don’t know exactly what I can do for you.”
Emily smiled at your kindness.
You both sat, and she began, “This is going to sound weird, but…” Emily took a deep breath, damn she hadn’t been this nervous in years… why was she this nervous…?
“But Spencer asked me to come down her and see you.”
“Oh is that so? And why might that be?” You asked, skeptical of what Spencer was pulling this time.
“He thinks… he thinks both of us need to get laid… and that we could help each other with our mutually respective dilemmas.” Emily tried to explain in, in the most understandable way, but she was being distracted by the butterflies in her stomach and the wetness pooling in her panties…
“He wants us to fuck?” You bluntly asked.
Oh, Emily was done for once you uttered those words…
“Yes.” She managed to respond with a even voice, even though her legs were clenching uncontrollably…
“Hmmmm…” you mused, taking in the woman in front you, you had to admit… Spencer taste for you was spot on…
“And what do you think? What do you want, Emily?” You asked the older, seasoned woman.
God, she wanted to hear her name in your mouth again…
“I think your quite young…” Emily responded with a slight strain to her voice.
“Hmmmm, does that bother you?”
“Not if it doesn’t bother you…” she whispered, her eyes clouding over with need.
“It doesn’t…” you immediately, lightly spoke back.
“Well in that case…” Emily began, but was interrupted as you got up from your chair.
You went over to the door, and for a second Emily panicked thinking you were leaving, but then she heard the lock click.
You then walked back and over to where Emily was sitting, scooting her chair to face you and not the desk.
“What were you saying…?” You whispered, looming over Emily, your eyes darkened with desperation.
“Doesn’t matter...” Emily whispered, grabbing your blouse and crashing her lips into yours. She pulled you into her lap, as her tongue explored your mouth.
You moaned in response, straddling her on the chair.
Emily grabbed a fist of your hair and pressed your lips into her hers even harder, eliciting whimpers from both of you.
Both of your hips grinded into the other in desperate need of some sort of friction.
You pulled away first from the kiss, quickly knelt down on the ground, and hurriedly began undoing her pants.
Emily realized what you were doing and moaned at the thought, quickly helping you to remove her pants.
You tore off her soaked panties and spread her legs across the chair legs.
“Please, god… fuck me…” Emily pleaded, grabbing your hair again and thrusting her soaked cunt to meet your face.
You happily complied to her request, diving into her pussy, lapping up her wetness and exploring her folds.
Emily moaned and mewled in delight.
You skillfully tongued through her folds, drawing out lewd moans which went straight to your own core.
And soon enough you felt Emily’s walls clenched around your tongue as she screamed out in pleasure.
You looked up after lapping up all of her juices to find a panting, sex fogged goddess.
You moaned at the sight.
Emily met your desperate eyes.
“Get on the desk, will ya love?” She lustfully moaned.
You quickly got up, sitting your ass on the edge of your desk.
Emily got up from her chair, legs a bit wobbly which you cheekily grinned at.
“Oh don’t worry Baby. You’ll be the one who can’t walk at the end of this…” Emily taunted at your cheeky grin towards her legs.
You gulped.
She grabbed your knees and guided your legs open for her access.
“I love your outfit, but it would look so much better on the floor, don’t ya think?” Emily purred.
You bit your lip and eagerly nodded, desperately removing all of your clothing.
Emily watched you, her mouth salivating at the sight of you.
You sat back on the edge of the desk, legs wide open for her access.
Emily hummed in delight.
She then kneeled on the floor, never losing eye contact as she licked a strip of your folds, causing you to shutter and let out a whimper.
“Please… no teasing…” you begged, bucking your hips up to meet her face.
Emily grinned at your begging, and complied with your request.
She just went straight into your pussy, tongue fucking your aching cunt relentlessly.
You grabbed and tugged her hair which only seemed to spur Emily on even more.
“Oh God!” You cried out, feeling yourself climbing to the edge of your high.
Emily couple sense your fluttering walls and how close you were. She added her thumb to your clit, and you were done for…
You came on her tongue, crying out her name, eyes rolling back in pleasure.
You panted heavily and whinced as Emily cleaned your sensitive cunt up with her tongue.
She came up to your eye level with a mischievous little grin and a face full of cum to match yours.
Her lips crashed into yours once more. It’s was intoxicating, your taste mixing with hers.
Eventually, you both pulled away breathless.
“Damn.” Emily exclaimed, “We should do that again sometime.”
You chuckled at her comment and nodded, too speechless to form any words.
#agent emily prentiss#emily prentiss smut#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#agent emily prentiss x reader#agent emily prentiss smut#agent prentiss smut#prentiss x reader#ssa prentiss#prentiss smut#agent prentiss#agent prentiss x reader#criminal minds headcanons#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#lesbian#lesbian fic#bisexual fanfiction#bisexual#lgbtq#lgbtqiia+
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*tata mic face* dad!yoongi pls 🙂
everybody’s gangster until the tata mic face comes out 🫣 please accept this nonsense, which shall henceforth be known as dadchwita.
1/2/23: a second dadchwita drabble can be found here!
Darksided AU Masterlist
Cheek smushed into the pillow, a weight on the small of your back kept you from rolling over. Bleary-eyed, you squinted ahead to find your husband in a similar position. His eyes were, of course, still shut.
Yoongi’s alarm clock hadn’t gone off yet, indicating it was even earlier than six in the morning. This wasn’t much of a surprise, however. Neither of you had been able to utilize that alarm much over the past five years.
Unable to make full use of your mouth, what you came up with was a mumble at best: “Your children would like your attention, love.”
When he didn’t stir, you slid your arm across the sheets without breaching the border of your comforter. You tapped the tip of his nose gently with your index finger, searching for proof of life. Impassive, as was to be expected at this hour.
If not for that gravelly morning voice blowing his cover, he could’ve kept his grift going. Stayed in bed, soaking in whatever extra minutes he could gather while you attempted to persuade your children back into their beds. It would’ve been difficult, given the current circumstances, but you’d seen him sleep through worse.
“I thought we settled on this. Before seven o’clock, they’re your kids,” he groaned.
You snorted; the force of the exhale through your nose prompted him to crack his eyes open. This was your favorite way to start every day: watching his pupils dilate as he woke up and saw you before anything or anyone else. Even if that occurred before sunrise.
“I think they’ve got us surrounded, general,” He yawned, “What’s your status?”
There was wiggling above you. Two arms slipped around your back in a hug that couldn’t quite complete its circle around you. Judging by the quiet affection, the child clinging to you like a backpack was your oldest; you were sure. Sweet as honey, that five year-old, and as soft-spoken as her father.
You reported out, furthering the bit, “I’ve literally got opposition breathing down my neck, sergeant. Their leader, Iseul, is holding her position. What’s your status?”
Your youngest - at only eighteen months - had fashioned himself into a hat for his father. Two tiny legs draped over Yoongi’s head at his chin and forehead, framing the face shooting a sleepy, closed-mouth smile your way.
Of course his father hadn’t woken up when he climbed up there. Perhaps Iseul gave him a boost once she was done springing him from his room.
Yoongi’s arms reached up to keep the little one’s balance. He babbled excitedly at the attention, and kicked his legs in a way that made Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, “They’ve got a tank, general! Woo-jin is bringing out the artillery!”
“Hold that line, sergeant, no matter what it takes! On my signal, we launch a counter strike!”
His twinkling eyes set their sights on your face, waiting for your instruction. A moment later, you narrowed your eyes, pursed your lips, and nodded firmly.
Your respective, living accessories each exploded into giggles as their parents lurched upright and snatched them both up. Iseul squealed as your fingertips tickled her sides without mercy. Even flailing wildly, she made no real effort to escape your lap or your teasing.
“Tell me where your sniper is!” You demanded through your own giddy laughter, “I’ll abide by the Geneva Convention, but I won’t let you off the hook!”
Next to you, Yoongi tugged up Woo-jin’s dinosaur-print pajama top and blew a loud raspberry on the toddler’s bare belly. He wasn’t quick enough in his retreat, though. Woo-jin’s chubby, socked foot knocked him right in the ear.
“General, I’ve been hit!” He sucked in a massive breath, then released it in a gasp, “I’m not gonna make it. Promise me that you’ll tell my wife I loved her -“
You were laughing so hard, your eyes were swimming. But Yoongi didn’t end his theatrics there. He never shied away from melodrama if given the stage for it.
“- and that there is a more efficient way to load the dishwasher, but I didn’t push it because she does this scary thing with her eyebrows when given constructive criticism!”
With that, his second gasp came even more loudly than his first. He closed his eyes, let his tongue slip out of the corner of his mouth, and then he slumped over until his body covered Woo-jin’s. With his arms already wrapped firmly around your youngest, Yoongi’s weight was maintained exclusively on his own elbows.
“No, no, daddy!” Woo-jin’s tiny voice erupted from under the black curtain of Yoongi’s hair, but it was difficult to hear over the rapid-fire kisses Yoongi was peppering over his cheeks - and his squeaky, belly laugh.
Iseul, who was breathless and blushing cherry red in your arms, shrieked, “Now!”
“Oh, no!” You squealed, eyes wide with genuine apprehension.
The four-year-old wild card hadn’t made a peep yet. Given his penchant for chaos, this was deeply unsettling. Next to you, Yoongi ceased his barrage of affection and tilted his head to look your way. The uneasy expression on his face was identical to yours.
There was a roar from behind you that seemed to pause the Earth’s rotation. As if in slow motion, Yoongi’s jaw dropped open as his gaze tracked movement you were unable to see. You, none the wiser, braced yourself for whatever was coming next.
From the bed frame above you - formerly hidden in plain sight, uncharacteristically still - came Duri, like a bat out of hell.
His kamikaze dive down onto your back ended with two arms linking around your neck - much more carefully than he’d ever done before. His clumsy hand pushed your hair off your cheek to make way for a sloppy kiss. Your heart, still pounding, swelled in your chest.
Iseul’s flushed face was taken over by a mischievous grin. She pushed her messy bangs out of her eyes before meeting her dongsaeng’s waiting hand in a high-five. Victorious, she snickered, “We win, mommy.”
Apparently, you really hadn’t learned your lesson with her father.
You really can’t trust the quiet ones, can you?
#jade’s drabbles#jade’s requests#myg#min yoongi#min suga#bts#bangtan#bts army#bts suga#bts yoongi#bts drabble#bts fluff#bts imagine#bts scenarios#yoongi fluff#yoongi drabble#yoongi imagine#yoongi scenarios#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#dad!yoongi#suga drabble#suga fluff#suga x reader#suga x y/n#suga x you#dadchwita#re: darksided
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#6 or #19 for the gentle prompts? 🥺🥺❤️❤️
#6 - "I've got you." || [AO3 Link Here]
I love the HELL out of this prompt 💖 Apologies this ended up being a lot more hurt/comfort than anything else, but there's still plenty of gentleness in it! Thanks for sending in the prompt, I hope you enjoy my little slice of birthday cake from me to you 🍰😄
-----------------------------------------------
After he releases Calliope from her prison and exacts his revenge on her behalf, Dream is left feeling unmoored and inadequate.
He should have tried to escape sooner. He should not have stayed so long stuck in his foolish pride. He should not have been caught at all, even though he knew that his summoning was not his fault, but a plot orchestrated by his younger sibling. Still, Dream was the elder and he should’ve known. He should’ve—He could’ve—
Dream finds himself standing at the front door of the New Inn, and the noises of cheer and joy erupting from within break the Endless out of his maudlin thoughts. He looks up at the sign to the pub, sighing as he considers how he ended up here.
Hob Gadling had greeted him not even two weeks ago as a friend when Dream came to him after his imprisonment. They had talked late into the night, and Dream had found himself able to talk candidly about his capture for the first time. Hob had taken him gently by the hand at the end of the night and told Dream to return to him any time he felt he needed a friend. He did not need to wait 100 years. He was welcome anytime.
And so, here Dream is, in need of the company of his oldest friend. Perhaps his only friend.
He doesn’t even know if Hob will be inside, but if not, he can always return another time. When the door bangs open, and a pack of drunken patrons merrily make their way outside the bar, Dream slips inside past them, and into the warmth and familiarity of the New Inn. He immediately spots Hob standing with a microphone near the bar.
He is—singing?
Dream furrows his brow in confusion before he scans the daydreams of the bar patrons, determined to give himself context to what is occurring. Apparently the New Inn is celebrating something called Karaoke Night. All patrons are encouraged to participate, it seems, and as the owner of the pub, Hob is usually the one to start the festivities, as well as keep them going throughout the night.
Dream realizes that Hob has a rather lovely singing voice. Already, he can feel the tension slowly leaking from his shoulders, disappearing into the crowd the longer he watches his friend joke and laugh with the other patrons of the bar in between verses.
Dream wonders if he should not come back another time after all. Hob is clearly preoccupied, and it would not do for Dream to beg for his friend’s companionship when there are others who are much livelier and more deserving of it than he. Perhaps he should—
“Dream?” Hob calls out to him, breaking him out of yet another bout of self-deprecating thoughts. Hob is looking at him, and he appears to be delighted to see Dream. He hands the microphone off to the man managing the music, and then rushes over to greet him.
When he reaches Dream, Hob wraps his arms around him in a hug. It’s meant to be a greeting, a quick embrace, but Dream’s body must sense that he needs more than that, because he practically collapses into his friend's arms. Hob grunts as he takes on the Endless’s unexpected weight but then he squeezes Dream’s shoulder and presses his face into Dream’s unruly hair.
“Hey, you all right?” Hob asks him, his voice soothing and gentle.
Dream wants to reassure his friend that he is fine, that there is nothing wrong with him, to apologize for his one moment of weakness—but he is so tired. He is emptied out after today. He would like to rest. Just for a little while.
“No,” he replies, internally cringing at just how weary he sounds. “I am—not well.”
And then Dream decides to indulge—he indulges because Hob had told him he was allowed—he wraps his arms around Hob, and then buries his face in his oldest friend’s shoulder. Hob only hums in response, before he calls a woman over to where they’re standing.
“Hey Beth, I’m taking off early tonight,” Hob tells the woman who comes to check in on them. Dream peers up at her from Hob’s shoulder. Her name is Elizabeth Lovegood. She has worked for the New Inn for a little less than five years, but she dreams of one day owning her own bakery. She is smiling kindly at him, and Dream feels undeserving of it.
“Is he all right?” Beth asks. “This that the same guy who came in here that one time?”
“Yeah,” Hob answers for him, then gently rubs Dream’s shoulders. “Think he’s just had a rough day and needs a place to crash for the night.”
Beth nods. “I got everything under control here, boss. You feel better all right, hon?”
Dream nods, and then he is being shuffled away to the back of the pub, near the stairs where Hob keeps his flat above the New Inn.
“Hey, shh it's okay, I've got you,” Hob tells him gently as he leads them up the stairs and into the warmth of his home.
Hob prepares tea and wraps Dream up in a blanket that had been previously sitting along the back of the sofa where Dream is now sitting. When they are settled together, he asks,
“What happened?”
Dream recounts the story of Calliope and her imprisonment. Hob asks some clarifying questions about their relationship and Dream does his best to answer without straying too close to the topic of Orpheus. He is not ready to discuss Orpheus yet. Not with Calliope. Not with Hob. He is not sure if he will ever be ready.
When he is finished, he sighs deeply and leans back into the softness of Hob’s couch.
“That is everything,” he finishes. “And now you are aware of one of my greatest failures.”
Hob’s brow furrows. “Failures?” he asks, confused. “But you freed Calliope, and without much trouble, how is that anything but a rousing success?”
“But she should not have had to suffer for so long,” Dream insists. “If I only I had not let my pride get in the way, I could have—”
Dream, Hob interrupts him, a rare sternness in his voice Dream has not heard since 1889. “You cannot live in the what-ifs, my friend,” he continues, his voice back to gentle and calming. “That way leads to madness, and I think you and I both know that better than most.”
“But I am not human,” Dream argues. “I am Endless, and I should not have been captured by Roderick Burgess in the first place.”
“So the Endless never make mistakes then?” Hob asks him pointedly. The accusation stings and white hot anger flashes beneath the skin of Dream’s mortal form.
“You—!” Dream exclaims, suddenly standing, his still hot tea splashing violently within its mug. “You still dare—”
“I do dare,” Hob replies, getting off the couch himself and placing his own mug on the coffee. “Because you’re my friend and I care about you, and I won’t watch you berate yourself for things that were clearly out of your control!”
Out of his control.
It’s those words that finally make Dream deflate. He drops back down onto the couch, splashing tea all over himself and the furniture. Hob yelps in alarm, but Dream merely waves the liquid away. He is tired again. He has been tired a lot lately.
“I am sorry,” Dream says, staring up at Hob’s ceiling. “You are right. These things were outside what I could control. And I do not like things that are out of my control.”
Hob snorts. “I don’t anyone likes the things that are out of their control, my friend,” he says, before plopping himself down next to Dream. “Want a hug?”
Dream does. He leans into the crook of Hob’s arm, and once again he feels his tension and sorrows from the day bleed away into the fabric of the couch.
Perhaps he shall stay. Just for a little while.
#dreamling#the sandman#hob x morpheus#dream x hob#seiya writes#seiya writes dreamling#seiya's birthday prompt fills#not me accidentally posting the ao3 link early so now I'm posting this 10 mins sooner than intended ahahahaha
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