#And maybe if I was actually capable of doing anything useful then I won't feel so worthless

[theminecraftbee]

"So, and I can't believe I have to be the guy to point this out," Doc starts hesitantly.

"Terrible start! Go on," Cleo says.

"But you seem to be one of the only sane people left right now," Doc continues.

"Even more terrible, although I appreciate your delusion," Cleo says.

"And I have to--you know, if you're going to make fun of me for bringing you a problem maybe I just won't. I can solve it myself. I basically solved the moon thing myself," Doc says. "I am trying to be responsible before this turns into a whole thing."

"Doc, you came to me. Did you want anything that wasn't me making fun of you? Because you know, if so, I really feel bad for you. I already feel bad enough for you that you think you actually managed to do anything at all about the moon thing."

Doc throws his hands up. "I am trying to warn you the ocean is evil! It's important! This is important!"

"The deep sea being evil isn't new," Cleo starts, "I was building Atlantis last season--"

"It sent, sent, salmon people to kill me!"

Cleo stops. They look Doc in the eyes. They search for any signs of deception at all. It's a little hard to tell, on account of Doc only having one eye even capable of expressiveness, and his face being the opposite of human, but...

"What?" Cleo says dumbly.

"It was like, like, Beef and Skizz, they were crazy! They were talking about a giant fish and how I shouldn't defy it. And I was like, what is a Big Salmon? I don't know, man, but they're ocean mobsters. And then I started looking. It's not just them. It's not just them Cleo, it's everyone. The ocean, man, it's evil, it's getting everyone. I've, I've made a list. Grian. Have you looked at Grian lately?"

"I think if we were worried about every time Grian got possessed then we wouldn't have any free time," Cleo says hesitantly.

"Right, right, but it was supposed to be Demise. The killing each other, all of the killing each other. I thought, oh, that'll get it out of their systems. But it's not just him Cleo! It's--have you seen Gem? She's all, oh, I will build a boat. Oh, I'll provoke the creatures of the deep. And then. Do you know what I saw all of Team ZITS doing? Fishing!"

"Doc," Cleo says, increasingly concerned for him. He looks... disheveled.

"And not just fishing, oh no. They were standing in the water fishing! And Pearl! Have I mentioned that Pearl is dressing up as a salmon? I mentioned that, yes? The salmon Pearl?"

"You hadn't, unless that was the big fish thing," Cleo says.

"No, that was something different, I think Pearl is maybe a different salmon."

"Sure, okay, more than one salmon, that makes sense," Cleo says dryly.

"And everyone, they are fishing each other around the ocean, yes? Etho is in the ocean! XB is in the ocean! I think I saw Joe crawl out of the ocean earlier, he was all wet and haunted! Surely that is a sign the ocean is evil."

"No, he's just like that," Cleo says. "Also, I did the fishing rod thing too. I think it's just... normal fun."

"They're getting you too. My assessment that you're the sane one. I've said too much."

"I think you need sleep," Cleo says. "Doc, there isn't an ocean-based conspiracy. It's the start of the season. You know we're just like this."

"That's the thing, I can't sleep," Doc says. "I can't. I sleep and I see it. I see it, lurking beneath the waves. It's calling for me Cleo. It's calling. And when it calls, it seems so--kind. But then. But then! I wake up, and I remember the shape of it, and..."

Doc shudders and stops talking. Cleo looks at him a moment longer and then, like comforting a nervous animal, takes his shoulder.

"You should take a nap. It's the start of the season. You're over-stressing yourself. Too much too fast?" they say, as soothingly as possible.

"It's coming for us," Doc says. "It's coming. I don't want to ignore it this time, yes? What's coming for us. We should--we should--"

"Even if it is, Doc, I don't think we can fight the ocean. Come on. Maybe sleeping in my base will help reset your brain."

Doc shudders, but lets Cleo guide him inside. They watch until at last he falls asleep fitfully before shaking their head and sighing.

"A giant fish that was trying to kill him. Honestly. I don't know where he gets these things from. Always a conspiracy with him..."

They decide to go to Ren. Ren knows how to humor Doc. Surely they can get in their ridiculous games again, and Doc will forget all about this. Doc would enjoy the Ministry of Ministries. Maybe he can be an anarchist or something. That would be good for him.

Doc cries out in his sleep. Cleo turns to him.

Then again, they have this strange sinking feeling in their stomach. Doc's... awfully worked up.

But it's Doc.

Surely it's nothing.

#hermitcraft #docm77 #zombiecleo #a bee fic #SO THE CONTINUED OBSESSION EVERYONE HAS WITH THE OCEAN HUH. #hermitfic

[wongyuuu]

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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[peachylipglosss]

my guide to wonyoungism, improve your life, glow up, be THAT girl:

🎀 have a routine: this is something I learned from being on therapy for so long. It is really important to have a routine because if not you can have bad sleeping, be tired all day, get bored easier, you won't be able to finish your responsabilities, it can bring you bad self esteem and in general is a complete mess.

🎀 work out: always do what's best for you and do what you feel comfortable doing but please! work! out! I'm such a lazy person and at some point it was really hard for me to have motivation to do anything, but once I put my mind into it, and force myself a bit and started with 10 mins of pilates everyday (since it was something easy to start with) my life and my self esteem improved a lot. Working out is another way to have schedules and a routine, also improves your self esteem by making you feel capable of doing stuff, and ofc is good for your body.

🎀 have a good skincare routine: first, do some research about your skin type and see what products can work better for you (you can also go to have a skincare treatment and ask the beautician or search on internet) but always do what's more comfortable and affordable for you, don't use stuff that influencers recommend bc you can alter you skin type based on the products you use too (as a beutician I know) Also don't DON'T do it everyday, some products can be used everyday like the cleanser but others not. As I said just do a good research. Besides skin stuff it's really interesting!!

🎀 improve your diet: with diet I don't mean to specifically have a diet, actually I'm a bit against them, since being strict about what we eat can cause stress and guiltiness, it's really important to have a balance, eating healthy at the end of the day means nothing if you don't enjoy it. And you can enjoy it by having fun creating new healthy recipes, doing a journal about your fav healthy recipes, buying new cookware (pink plates, pots, pans, etc) or eating a hamburguer, a chocolate cookie sometime

🎀 journal: this is something I do since 2014 lol it's without doubt one of the best things the human has created. It has helped me to improve my writing skills, to get to know me better, to vent about stuff idk how or whom to talk about, also make it fun! In my journal I vent and write about my feelings,fears, dreams, goals, etc but also write down my travels, concerts or fav kpop artists, decorate with stickers, a piece of confetti, even dried flowers!

🎀 hobbies: this is something I also learned recently on therapy, I mean we all had hobbies from time to time but do we know about the importance of having them? I spent this whole year doing nothing since I can't work or study, and without hobbies I can tell you life is too boring, and it can lead you to bad self esteem too I mean, I kinda got crazier for spending so much time alone with literally nothing to do. So find new and fun stuff to do just for the pleasure of doing it, you don't have to be the best at it. I bet you can find hobbies ideas on YouTube as well.

🎀 be more femenine: this is ofc an optional step but I think it can be important, since always either wonyoung or it girls usually look very femenine. Don't forget to make it a fun thing to do! Finding your aesthetic, maybe trying a new one, enjoy going shopping..you can be femenine with your clothing, with your skin care routine, with your jewlery...this is just about feeling beautiful and also powerful.

🎀 improve your behaviour towards other people: with this I mean basically being more open. To meet new people, to make new plans...also fixing your body gesture (at least mine is shit and It always end up hurting my back and shoulders)

🎀 affirmations: good affirmations are a thing, this I learned in therapy too. The way you talk to yourself is important and changing the mindset too. If you tell yourself "I won't be able" then for sure you won't. This is not an easy thing tho I know, but is a necessary thing. Forcing yourself to change your mind every time a negative thought pass by is a hardwork but is well payd, cause the price is your happiness. For this is VERY important to have some help and work things up in therapy. But to give you a little tip, surround yourself with good energy, put some pictures of good affirmations in your room, as background of your phone, even on a shirt!

🎀 enjoy and trust the process: as I kept saying in each step, making it something fun to do it would help you to don't feel it like an obligation cause it's not. It's ofc a responsability to improve your life so you don't fall in depressed behaviours for example, but by making it something fun, then you won't feel guilty if someday you don't feel like functioning and need a lazy day in bed. And by trusting the process, we keep motivated to keep going.

🌼hope this works for you, please let me know if so, have a great day and a great life! 🌼

#wonyoungism #glow up #glow up tips #that girl #it girl #hot summer girl #ive wonyoung #tips #trust the process #skin care

[ressonancee]

IMPATIENT

✦ genre: friends with benefits, a dash of humor (?), reader is a bit of a brat and this has sub and dom undertones - smut

✦ word count: 3.040

✦ Thea note: okay first this was supposed to be a drabble for my girl @toruro so mika - i hope you enjoy it. second, I won't say anything bad about my own work but lately, i have been so busy and tired that writing is just harder than usual even when I have fun with it, i really like reader on this one so maybe we will see a pt 2 when my brain is not working at 25% of its capability - but I do hope y'all enjoy this even tho my brain is like fighting for dear life!!!

Your mind was completely empty. 

Hoshi had been speaking for a solid thirty minutes and if somebody asked what was the problem you couldn’t say something because everything that left Hoshi’s mouth did reach your ear, but your brain didn’t process it, because you were too busy using all your cognitive function. The only thing you could focus on was how Minghao was laughing at something Jeonghan said - even tho you actually didn’t hear his giggle it was something that you knew so well that your brain made you believe that he was laughing right there - at your side, but more than that, it was on how a brunette girl who was actually on his side - eating everything up, laughing at everything, looking at Minghao in awe, that, that scene was what making your brain way too busy. 

"And then she was like super angry that I didn't text her I mean she said we should stop talking first-" Hoshi said and stared at you waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, that's sucks, I'm sorry," you say taking another sip of your beer, "you know what? Maybe you should talk to Jeonghan. He could totally talk to her about how you misunderstood everything," you say already trying to drag Soonyoung to the other side of the room. 

"Yo!” Hoshi’s eyes lit up, “That's- That's really nice advice,"

"Right, let's talk to him," You say interlocking your arms with Hoshi and finally dragging him across the room, not even feeling that sorry, but again, you were too curious, too focused, to actually care about Hoshi’s love problem. Hell, you had one of your own right in your point of view

"Jeonghan my guy!" Hoshi calls making everyone in that little circle pay attention to you two. 

"What is going on?" Minghao asks when you stop at his side, that side-eye he gives you when he knows - somehow - that you have been up to no good. 

"You ask me?" You try your best to bat your eyelashes at him, even tho you know he won’t eat it up. 

"You were the one planning everything," Minghao says.

“Planning?” The brunette girl asks, and she is cute, she seems nice, she is the epitome of the girl next door.

“Oh yeah, planning how Hoshi is gettin’ his girl back you see-” You start, trying your best to be your own version of the girl next door.

“Hey I need something to drink, be right back,” Minghao says and starts to drag you to the kitchen - oh, that was how Hoshi felt? Weird, Karma was acting super fast lately. 

“Wait I wasn't planning-” You try to argue, huffing, and almost stomping your feet, "I was listening to a good friend talk about his heartbreak, and you? What were you doing with miss brunette and Jeonghan?"

"Are you?" He says and you can see how the corners of his mouth start to lift up, the foreshow of a smile and you just can’t take it.

"Nope," you say, trying your best, but you know he already won. 

"You are!" He giggles - that silly giggle he always does, the giggle that you love to hear, the giggle that makes your heart full almost to the point it bursts. And you give up, because you know he knows, "Maybe? A little?"

"Sure, a little," Minghao says, crossing his arms and leaning on the kitchen counter, and god he looks so good, he is tired and you know that because he has his glasses on instead of his contacts, his hair is already huffed up and longer - you like that, and you like to think he didn’t show up on his monthly haircut because you said that to him the last time, 

"Can we-" you start and before you finish you can see his smile. 

"Sure, you go first or I go first?" He asks. You two made a routine of it, made an almost everyday practice, a little secret that you two shared, tucked in away os the curious eyes of everyone else. In a way, it was something sacred, cherished, something only you two could tap into.  

"To your room?" You ask even though you know it is the only place possible right now, Minghao just nods, "Okay I go first, but you should go talk to Hoshi, he is in actual distress I wasn’t planning that up"

"Sure," Minghao says, standing in front of you - he looks at the door before he holds your face and just plants his lips on yours. And before you can say anything he vanishes. 

Leaving you there, standing still in the middle of the kitchen.

It was weird the whole sneaking out to not get caught part of the deal. You and Minghao have been friends for so long that your friends were his friends, and his friends were your friends and the whole thing was just messy. And maybe you didn't want to share that with everyone - every new detail of Hao was yours. But you also didn’t want to share the tiptoeing in the shallow water phase. 

In a way you wanted to learn what that was, is, and will become on your own.

So you try your best to not draw any attention to yourself, the first step of the process pick yourself a cold beer - that's why you were in the kitchen. Step two, go to Minghao's room, not that much trouble. Step three is not to fall asleep in his bed, he does spend way too much money on bedsheets, it feels like you are lying in a cloud. Soft, fluffy, and slightly cold against your skin. 

And you are almost drifting until you hear the door open, and it is not Hao.

"Hey," Chan says, already rummaging around, opening Minghao's drawers, "Did you see a charger around? Someone took mine, for real people need to understand boundaries in this household."

"Don't you tell me," you say smiling at Chan, the irony of it. 

"Yeah I know," he huffs making you laugh, "but someone stole mine first," then he turns out you, his expression is almost a question mark, "Wait, are you okay? Why are you here?"

"Just a headache," you say trying your best to give an academy winner performance, lifting up your hand, touching your forehead and all.

"Oh yeah, do you need anything? I know this house is a mess but we do have painkillers," Chan says sincerely. 

"No, no, already took one, I'm good, thanks Channie," you say almost feeling bad to lie, almost being the keyword.

"Chan, what are you doing?" Minghao says resting his shoulder on the door. 

"Oh man," Chan says defeated, "I am doing nothing, and if your charger disappeared it wasn't me ok? Mine was stolen too,"

"I-" Minghao shakes his head, huffing up a bit while closing the door. 

"Lock it," you remark "or we will get Mingyu searching for a hair tie while your dick is in my mouth," You say taking off your own shirt, and already working on the button of your pants when Minghao's cold hands reach yours.

"Why are you always in a hurry," he says, his hands traveling to your shoulders, pressing you down until your back finds the mattress. 

"You do live with four other guys, so-" you say like it was common sense, because you know Minghao's roommates, they are your friends as well, and you know they are fucking nosy.

"No, you always like that," Minghao says, lowering his body against yours, "even when nobody is around," he says against your neck. 

"I'm not," you say, hands on the back of his neck, playing with his hair while his lips find the skin of your neck.

"You are," he says kissing your jaw, "you need to learn how to be patient."

"Yeah, whatever," you say almost rolling your eyes, tugging at Minghao's hair, "not today though." 

"Why not?" Minghao says, voice low like he is telling you a secret, while his digits trace the strap of your bra. 

"Because," you whine but Minghao is still working in slow motion, his lips tracing your collarbones, "today you gonna fuck me stupid, I can learn something tomorrow"

"I can fuck you stupid even if we do it slowly," Minghao giggles again, god and you almost hate him, his fingers finally tugging the strap enough, he gives your shoulder a kiss before tugging the cup of your bra. 

"And if I say please?" You say making Minghao stop on his track and you almost laugh before he looks at you.

"If you say what?"

"If I say pretty please can you fuck me stupid and like right now? You can totally teach me a lesson tomorrow or-" you say hands against Minghao's face and tugging him just enough until he understands what you want - him - pressed against you, his lips against yours, him against your hands, your mind is only filled with thoughts of him, him, him.

“Come on-” Minghao says, holding your head - making you whine a little when you try to follow him, trying to keep your lips connected, “say it”

“Oh no,” It’s your time to giggle, your smile plastered across your face, and it is so easy to be happy when Minghao's cold hands are against your waist when he is kneeling between your thighs, “You like it too much”

“And? What’s wrong with that?” he says dragging his hands over your body until reaches the waistband of your jeans, “If you ask prettily," Minghao pauses tugging at the belt loops, "you know I will give you everything you ask for”

"Promise?" You say, your own voice sounds different against your ears somehow, your hands holding Minghao's forearm. You can feel your cheeks burn, but just like Minghao, you are willing to give him everything he asks for. And he just nods, hands pressed against your thighs now. "Can you please just fuck me? I promise tomorrow you can tease me and take your precious time."

"Yeah, sure sweetheart," Minghao says smirking at you, it is so condescending that you want to stand up and pick a fight with him, but in the end he means it - he is already working on your jeans, hands dragging against your hips before he gets off the bed just to pull at the bottom hem. "but, just so you know, make sure you have a free afternoon tomorrow."

"Sure, sure, gonna timeblock you right after my dentist appointme-" you start but end up being cut off by your own welp of surprise because Minghao's hand finds your thigh and drags you across the bed.

"You are so smart-mouthed sometimes," he says again finding his place in the space between your thighs, and you just pout - not because of the quip, but because he is still fully dressed, "What?"

"You're still dressed," you say tugging at the hem of his shirt, and Minghao laughs again like you are saying the silliest thing in the world, but that doesn't take your mind away when he lowers his body to kiss you again. 

You try your best to keep your mind focused, still tugging Minghao's shirt, hands lifting the material off his back until it's pooling at his shoulders. When Minghao gets on his knee to finally take the damn thing off you follow him, lips against his chest, hands already on his jeans. 

"Come on," you complain, tugging at his jeans. 

"Ok, ok," Minghao huffs out before leaving the bed again, looking at you with a smirk on his face, "I'm taking it off don't need to pout," he says finally taking off those damn jeans but leaving on his underwear, "come on, your turn"

"Hun?" You say totally distracted, making Minghao giggle again, "Oh okay," you finally get what he means, taking off your own bra. 

"Fuck," Minghao says, before he is kissing you again, "you are so pretty, you should let me-"

"Baby you promised," you whine, because you know Minghao like the back of your hand. 

"You are the first one that hates the idea of me taking my time," Minghao says when his hands find your hips, tugging at your panties, making you lift your hips a little to help him, "I could totally eat you out right now,"

"I know," you whine, and it is true, he could eat you out, and you know he loves doing it. But Minghao is right, you do not have the patience, "tomorrow I let you go down on me for like forty-five minutes"

"You say like that is a hassle for you," Minghao says, hands against your knee, eyes on your pussy,  "or for me by the way"

"Oh for fuck sake," you try to close your legs even though Minghao’s hand is still on your knees, blocking your action. 

"Ok ok sh-" Minghao says, finally lowering his underwear, and for the first time you think about it. Think about learning how to be patient, to be calm, and composed, just so you can change your plans just to put Minghao’s dick in your mouth. Okay, maybe not calm and collected but less stubborn, but before you can say it all Minghao is just taking too long searching for the condom making you impatient again, but before you can complain he guides his dick to your pussy.

“This is insane,” you complain, Minghao hovering over you, his longer bangs over your face, making you ticklish. 

“What?” Minghao says against the skin of your neck, his voice sound muffled. His hand is still on your waist, his dick hot against your thigh. 

“You really want to make me beg?” You say tugging Minghao’s hair, “Is this a kink? Do we need to talk about this?” 

“I mean, I’m not really against a pretty girl begging for my dick,” Minghao says, making you shudder.

“Not gonna give you that,” you say - and it is not because you are stubborn, you are, and you know that, but with Minghao is just fun, the push and pull of it, the banter, this thing going on between the two off you. 

“You are so fucking stubborn,”

“Come on, I already said please,” You say pretending you are against the idea of begging Minghao - like you never did before. 

“Sure baby,” Minghao says giving you a kiss on your cheeks, and is just so sweet like he is not about to fuck you like he is not holding his dick against your pussy - rubbing himself against you, "Just because you said please", he says in that condescending tone, but before you can argue or raise your voice, Minghao is finally fucking you and the feel of his dick stretching you out is enough to make you speechless. 

And it was always like that, it always ended up with Minghao filling you up.

And you can't complain when he is fucking you the way he likes it - a lewd pace that makes your mind spin, it makes you claw Minghao's back, while his grip against your tightens. Maybe - you think to yourself - just maybe you try to hurry Minghao up to see if he caves up, to see if he has another side inside him, to see if he fucks you hard and fast makes you like him less, makes you less addicted to the feel of his skin against yours, the feel of his mouth against your neck. 

But he never complies. 

He keeps fucking you at his own pace, at his own volition. 

“Hao please,” you beg - because you are ready to give Minghao everything he wants if he gives you something in return. 

“Ah, so now we are not above begging?” Minghao chuckles, his voice so close to your ear that his lips graze your skin. 

“Please,” you try again “I will beg, I will do whatever you want I promise.” 

“Come on,” Minghao says, one of his hand trailing against your skin, until it reach your neck, “we both know you won’t, behaving is against your own existence” 

“You say that like you hate it”

“I actually love it, that’s the problem,” Minghao says, planting a kiss on your cheeks before he finally picks up his pace.

You understand Minghao really, sometimes you are too hastened. Is not like you are particularly against him taking his time, warming you up, eating you out, and fucking you at his own pace - you enjoy all that. But you also enjoy what he is doing now, fucking you fast and hard enough that you need to hold on for dear life.

You like this Minghao too - this version of him that nothing is holding him back. 

And the only thing in your mind is Minghao.

The only thing you can think about is him. How he feels against you, how Minghao licks your skin, how his hand clutches your hips, and how he is panting against your neck. When everything starts to get muffled you know that you are almost there - and the only thing you can do to muffle your own noises is to bite down Minghao's shoulder. 

And everything stands still for a minute.

“We need to stop sneaking out,” MInghao says panting above you, you look at him and how disheveled he looks, how his sweaty hair clings to his forehead. He always says that to you, how he always brings that up after sex, If he weren’t a non-believer you would say it was the Christian guilt kicking in after sex, but you know Minghao, and you know why he asks.

“Yeah, I think Chan is finally catching up that something is going on,” You say, your own smile plastered on your face when you hear his silly giggle. 

You look at Minghao again, he is sitting on the bed, back against you. probably dealing with his condom, and you try to bite your own tongue, you try to hold yourself back but the urge to say something is stronger than you, and to be honest when it is about pushing Minghao’s buttons you are not the strongest soldier “but first we are going to talk about your kink list sir," and Minghao silly giggle just turns into a disapproving growl. 

#xu minghao fic #xu minghao fanfic #xu minghao smut #xu minghao x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #t: xu minghao #t: writting #svt fic #svt fanfic

[themosticonicseveredhead]

ok sorry but i just replayed Portal 2 and this has been consuming my mind

i feel like at this point everyone knows about the potato battery that kid Chell made, but what i noticed this time was what Wheatly said about it

"Look at that, it's growing right up into the ceiling. The whole place is probably overrun with potatoes at this point. At least you won't starve, though."

at which point i think: oh! this is probably where Wheatley got the potato to trap GLaDOS. it grew from right here. i already figured that this area was where he got the idea to trap her, but this was still a really neat detail!

and then i got to the first core transfer and Wheatley's betrayal, and i realized: what would have happened if Chell's potato battery didn't grow like that? well, Wheatley likely wouldn't have a potato, right? he wouldn't be able to trap GLaDOS in a potato battery.

so then what would he have done with her?

would Wheatley have just killed GLaDOS? did Chell's potato battery save her life?

but no, i told myself. i was probably overthinking this. just because wheatley doesn't have a potato doesn't mean he wouldn't find some equally insulting perdition for her. maybe he would just use a normal, actual battery.

and then i got to the scene where Chell saves GLaDOS from the bird.

GLaDOS says: "No tricks. This potato only generates 1.1 volts of electricity. I literally do not have the energy to lie to you."

a quick google search tells me that even a double a battery generates 1.5 volts, and given the nature of the machinery present in aperture, i'm guessing that most of the batteries they have lying around output even more

i don't think Chell would have trusted GLaDOS if she didn't reveal this. GLaDOS lies as easily as she speaks, so the knowledge that she is physically no longer capable of doing so heavily inclines the player, and the character, to believe what she has to say.

it's because her energy is so low that Chell agrees to GLaDOS's plan, and eventually completes the second core transfer and sends Wheatley into space.

it's because she is trapped in a potato that GLaDOS makes is back to the lab and her chassis.

it's because Chell made a potato battery - one that grew to "overrun" the facility - that GLaDOS survives the events of Portal 2. even if Wheatley would have otherwise spared her following the first core transfer, she wouldn't have made it back if Chell didn't trust her, which necessitates her being trapped in a potato.

Potatoes are a source of energy - of life! sustenance for Chell, the bird, and any other living thing condemned to reside in aperture, but also a kind of life raft for GLaDOS as well. in its restrictions, it forces her to be a better person. to be honest. and that saves her!

is this anything?!

#just had to get this out of my mind and into words #portal 2 #portal #chell #glados #chelldos

[kuro4thegays]

- Dr. Ratio nsfw alphabet -

[Veritas Ratio x gn!reader] [Originally written with male reader in mind, but there is no mention of genitalia so I think it can work for any gender. I tried to provide both something for top and bottom reader so everyone can get something out of this. The reader is assumed to be in a long term relationship with Veritas]

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Veritas can be really romantic. Initially, he doesn’t want either of you to pull away at all, just to nuzzle each other while your bodies stay intertwined in such an intimate fashion. Though if you really need it he’ll get up immediately to get you some water or snacks or really anything you need. Depending on the time of day you also might be expecting a bath, massages too.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Not a specific body part, but likes how proportional and symmetrical his body is as a whole. This guy is literally named Dr Ratio, leave me alone. On you though, I think he likes your face. Basic answer, but I really can't see it any other way. Definitely likes tracing the contours of your face when bored, studying it like an ancient sculpture. Oh, and I guess it's pretty hot how your face twists in pleasure while you're doing it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

If he's topping he likes to cum inside, otherwise cumming all over you is the second best. I feel like he wouldn't be a fan of cumming all over himself so if bottoming he'll like to do it either on the bed or if possible somewhere on you. My man also probably likes fruits, that's what gives his cum a sweet-ish taste, definitely not the sugary sweet kind though, the earthy natural sweet.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Definitely wants to do it in a very natural space, like a lake or something. That primal feeling, miles away from the rationality he exudes usually, really gets him going, but he's too afraid of someone walking in and ruining the moment to actually do it.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Virgin. Most of his life he probably had that kind of mindset that it's probably not worth it getting involved with someone else when he has everything he needs here. Still thinks that way, but now has you to keep his balls empty.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Loves lifting you off the ground, gotta show those muscles off. You just wrap around him so snugly and your faces are so close to each other it takes no effort just to start making out while pounding into you. Doesn't mind being lifted up himself either, especially if you're squeezing his ass while doing so, has and will attack your face with kisses. Other than that he likes anything where you two are face to face just in general.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Very serious. Because of how little experience he has and how little people he has let see him this way he probably takes it as an extremely important bonding time so don't expect any jokes or laughs from him. Though he won't be mad if you're into the more casual kind, hell, he’ll let you try getting a laugh out of him.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Extremely well groomed. He's a neat freak, man loves baths and goes nuts when he sees a single dirty spot on his book, he's well capable of keeping himself clean. No hair out of place and all, if he even has any on his lower body.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Said it already, but he takes sex very seriously. Slow and sensual is his thing. Makes it a whole ritual, lighting candles, maybe using some rose petals that he likes putting into his baths, massaging your back, everything to make you feel absolutely refreshed afterwards and ultimately make you feel closer to each other at the end.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't do it that often, but when he does it's most likely during the morning shower. Though, unfortunately, if he has the displeasure of having another bath without his lover he might have to rub one out alone in there too.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise and degradation are a must with this man. Just state your preference, or do both if you’re into it, and he’ll already be running his mouth even before you start. Body worship is also a big thing for him. With his marble statues you can assume that he at least must love his own body and something tells me that he’ll be equally if not more obsessed with his lover's one.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Not into risky stuff, he has a reputation to keep. Maybe you can suck him off under his work desk with all the doors locked, but that's where it ends. Maybe bathhouses, but only if you have a reserved room or smth. Though when it comes to your private adobe nothing is off the table. The bed, bathtub, over the counter, against the wall, he isn't too picky.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Not hard to get him in the mood. Loves how open you are with him and if you ask him nicely he’ll already feel motivated. Just seeing you so needy and wanting him makes him feel special, like he is the only one who you would run up to with something so intimate. Expect him to tease you about it though.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that has to do with risking his reputation, no public sex or exhibitionism. Threesomes are also a no for him, not with someone he knows and definitely not with a stranger. He has made it clear that you're the only one who he wants to experience this kind of intimacy with.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He was definitely a little weirded out at the start. Don't get me work, he knew how it's done and what it meant, he isn't that innocent, but the thought of actually doing just felt gross to him. Of course, that's where you came(in more ways than one) in. Unfortunately for you, he is a fast learner. Now oral is his favorite way to open up a long night session with you. It doesn't take much preparation, so expect him to wake you up using his mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

My guy likes to take his time. He sees sex like he sees his baths, a way to cleanse the body of all its filth, so sometimes it really does feel like you're making love instead of having sex. He just finds himself dissatisfied with the fast and rough methods that just dry him out.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It might seem surprising after I talked so much about him taking his time, but I don't think he actually minds quickies that much. Though he doesn't like making a routine out of them, sure a quickie is good once in a while to relieve some stress, but he doesn't want it to spoil sex for him entirely. He likes them most during the morning showers.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

While he doesn't want to take any risks with his reputation, he certainly doesn't mind doing risky stuff behind closed doors. How are you supposed to see the results without any experimentation?

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Oh, he can go for plenty. My man is beefy and all that muscle isn't just for show. The thing is, one round for him already takes a while so expect to be spent and thoroughly satisfied. Not that he doesn't mind going again, he's just wondering if you can keep up.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have a lot of toys but he definitely doesn't mind using some on you or you using some on him. Keep in mind though, if you allow him he can get pretty ruthless with them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Definitely a huge tease, refuse to believe otherwise. Going to go further into it in a moment, but my guy is talkative. Nothing you do will go unnoticed and everything you do will be commented on. Also teasing with his actions. That one extra button left unbuttoned was specifically left there to cause a reaction from you. Will deny you orgasm if you're into that. He loves the power all the things listed above give him and the feeling of being desired really gets him going. You could inflate his ego even more or even try to shut that pretty mouth yourself.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I don't know if this is a hot take but I think that he might get more vocal once he is with someone he trusts. Definitely won't hide his voice from you when he sees you getting more aroused, might as well use it to tease you. Oh, and he's definitely a talkative one. Expect lots of comments between those sweet groans and moans of his.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Massages are his favorite form of foreplay. Be it during baths with all his fancy soaps and oils or in bed after an exhausting day, it's a very intimate, but not necessarily sexual, way to relax the body and he needs your body to be relaxed if he wants to proceed with more intense stuff. Doesn't mind receiving a massage either, though he is mostly the one giving them he can't deny himself the pleasure of your hands worshiping his muscles.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is a big man, what do you expect? No, but for real, it matches his size. Every part of him is proportional. Always cleanly shaven and well groomed and only has a few subtly visible veins just below the head. Cut and colored with a pinkish blush on the very tip.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not that high. He keeps himself intellectually occupied most of the time. Though he can get turned on pretty quickly when his partner initiates.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I imagine most of your steamy encounters happen at the end of the day so he already feels pretty drained. That orgasm is probably the last push for him before going to bed, assuming that all of your needs are taken care of first.

[Just something quick to deliver while I'm working on something bigger to keep you all well fed]

#hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #dr ratio x male reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x amab reader #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x male reader #veritas ratio x amab reader #own writing #archive

[mcflymemes]

INQUISITION PARTY BANTER  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition

you... actually look like that?

thank you for remembering. sometimes people forget me.

it's interesting watching you. the way you carry yourself when you use magic.

why are you so angry at your father? he wants to help and you know he does.

no one needs to see my arse.

you're set on being sad forever.

remember, do not use it like a sword.

i'd just eat the cheese.

always knew you were up to something.

you didn't always have a beard.

sometimes love isn't enough.

there were so many wonderful hats.

you're happier now, [name].

you have so many feelings.

i am uncertain whether to believe you.

the world doesn't make sense to them. it's too real.

you're right about that. they would.

do you need to eat? or sleep?

you would stop it if you could.

i can't tug it loose without tearing it.

stop. it isn't about you.

i believe i can work with that.

you have other things to carry.

you're serious, aren't you?

you let it keep hurting because you think hurting is who you are.

it is because you think you have to?

you ask a lot of questions, [name].

why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.

i'll have to steal that one.

hey, when this is all done, if you ever need my help for anything, you just ask, all right?

maybe you're not a complete moron.

we were having a moment, and now you've ruined it.

i can't believe you drank that swill at the tavern.

i'm well aware you lied to me.

that is... remarkably decent of you.

i don't want to think about that right now.

you need a hairbrush.

when you charge at them, you make them hit you.

i'm curious about you. i had no idea something like you was possible.

how do you want to be remembered? valiant yet sexy rebel against the status quo?

it's not easy finding people willing to shoulder such a terrible responsibility.

it's not such a terrible thing. some of my best friends are murderers.

who's judging now?

i know your kind.

i know that what comes out of your mouth is the same drivel that comes out of theirs.

careful i don't club you on the head.

if i had something to say, i'd say it.

if we're going to fight at each other's side, we need to get along.

enough, both of you.

you said i could ask you questions.

how do you get your hair to do that?

do you think we could ever be friends?

killing him won't make anything better.

if you really cared, you could ask.

you caught the eye of a young woman in that last village.

i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.

i question your reasons for being here.

my reasons for being here are the same as yours.

i think that's the first time i've heard you admit anything is complicated.

what made you change your mind?

i will try to be more like you.

you should learn to watch your back.

i mean. could be naked more. that'd be better.

beardy people are supposed to be jolly.

why are you complaining?

you're smirking again.

right, here we go. what is it from you?

there is no need to tell anyone that.

does yelling while we're walking around count?

stop pointing that at me!

you need a drink or something, you tell me.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #rp starters #roleplay prompt #ask memes #ask meme #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #mcflymemes

[fourmoony]

How about James teaching his crush!reader how to ride a broomstick because he wants to help overcome her fear of heights? (he’s so in love, he’ll do anything for her)

thank you sm for requesting lovely!! hope you enjoy :)

1.4k reader x jamie fluff

masterlist

James is standing a few short paces from you, an encouraging smile on his face, arms outstretched and urging you forwards.

It's not helping.

He's trying. Bless him, he's trying. But it's not helping. Your hands are shaking and your legs feel like jelly as you stand with his broom between your legs and what you hope is a determined look on your face. You really couldn't stand if he knew just how nervous you actually are. What you're supposed to do is hover mere centimetres off the ground and fly the incredibly short distance towards him, but what you feel like doing is abandoning all hope, calling it a day, and high tailing it back to the castle.

It's ironic, really, these feelings you have for a boy who is so well versed in flying and yet, the mere idea of sitting on a broom makes you nauseous. Sure, there's more to James than flying. He's kind and thoughtful, he's so pretty it almost hurts to look at, and while he can be arrogant and crass sometimes, he's got a heart of gold, and is probably one of the most genuine people you've ever met. You don't know many people who would give up their afternoon in Hogsmeade to help you overcome a silly fear like flying. But ultimately, he's Hogwarts' elected Quidditch King and the idea of letting him down feels utterly overwhelming. You know he won't care either way - he's James, after all - but you care.

He always makes such an effort with your interests, reading, drawing, he even spends time with you in the green houses on a Wednesday night as you tend to the abnormal plants he knows nothing about, other than that you've singlehandedly brought most of them back from the brink of death on sheer determination and care.

The fear claws at your throat like a dull ache, your heart hammering against your rib cage. But James is there, kind eyes and encouraging words, and you feel like maybe this will be possible.

James urges you forward gently, encouragingly, a kind smile on his lips that makes you believe you might actually be capable. With a shaky breath, you go over the rehearsed check list in your head; hands tight, legs firm, kick off, lean forward, breathe normal.

The broom seems to lift off on its own accord - James' own broom is better than the Hogwarts assigned brooms - and it carries you safely, albeit a little quickly to James. He's there, like he said he would be, holding you by the shoulders and bringing the broom to a halt. He's smiling something breathtaking and it makes you smile, too, despite the fact that your tiptoes are barely touching the ground.

"Told you you could do it." His voice is filled with affection, sweet like honey and it warms your chest.

He's so lovely. It's dizzying, almost.

"I think I might be sick." You tell him honestly.

He chuckles. Not at you, never at you, but at your delivery, your shaky legs as he helps you back onto solid ground. It'd taken you an hour to even sit on the broom and James knows you've probably missed lunch, by now. He looks to the sky, head tilted up so you can see the planes of his throat more clearly. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, assessing the grey storm clouds rolling towards the pitch. He frowns, and you do, too. The approaching storm means your time together is over.

"How about this time, I fly, you hold on?" James suggests, desperate to find a way to keep you close to him, "That way you can get used to the height without worrying about being in control of the broom."

His hand is on your shoulder, thumb brushing the juncture of your neck and it's really hard to be worried about your fear of falling to your death via Nimbus 2000 when James is touching you so softly, so affectionately. It steals the breath from your lungs, imaginary birds swirling around the crown of your head like some sort of cartoon. All you can do is stare dazedly at him, lips parted.

Surely he knows how he affects you. Surely he's put the pieces together. Everyone knows you hate flying, you've never had any willingness to learn. Even the flight lesson professor had dismissed you from any and all classes, tired of having the same argument every week. James must know there's a reason you've agreed to such an activity on a random Saturday in November.

His eyes are full of warmth as he looks down at you, lips upturned just slightly as he pulls his broom from between your fingers with his free hand. His thumb presses your pulse point as a reminder to his question, eyes full of something you can't read, and you find yourself nodding. The opportunity to hold onto James, to place your head on his shoulder and your arms around his waist, to smell the bergamot sweet cologne he's wearing up close, it's all too tempting, and you find yourself agreeing, climbing onto the back of his broom.

"Hold on, love, okay? I promise you're safe, but we can stop at any time." James mumbles, his right hand warm and soft as he squeezes at yours placed firmly over his stomach.

He's toned through his woollen jumper, and that's just something you don't want to think about too hard.

James kicks off softly, at first, flying in slow circles around the pitch and slowly increasing his height each time. He talks you through it all, voice soft and comforting, but assuring in your safety. You've never felt so safe on a broom before. Maybe it's James, maybe it's just that he's such a steady flier. Maybe it's the way he's steering with one hand, the other laced through one of yours, firm and strong, keeping you tethered to him.

The wind is biting and cold, so you hide your face in the planes of his back against soft wool and breathe him in. It's comforting, warming, it makes you smile.

You refuse to look down, still, refuse to move an inch, refuse to actually pay attention as James explains how leaning one way or the other is beneficial, how leaning forwards and backwards isn't always the best way to control speed. His voice drones on in your ear as you become engulfed by him, feeling safe and in control, even fifty feet in the air. You know James will stop whenever you ask, so when the wind becomes too much, your cheeks and nose sufficiently numb, and the broom begins to jump like airplane turbulence because of the wind, you do ask.

Your legs feel wobbly back on solid ground, but James' hands on your waist are steadying. His face is bright with happiness, fond with pride. It makes your heart swell and your cheeks flush a deeper crimson.

"Thank you," You whisper, fingers toying with the hem of his jumper, "For keeping me safe."

James' smile grows impossibly wider, impossibly fonder, "Always, lovie."

You groan at the pet name, one he knows makes you flushed and embarrassed.

"Thanks for pretending to be interested in learning to fly just to appease me." James' voice is cheeky, his hands squeezing teasingly at your waist and you guffaw.

"I wasn't pretending!"

"Please," James rolls his eyes in amusement, "We both know the only reason you got on that broom is because I was looking at you like I wanted to kiss you and it was distracting."

So he does know. James is always flirty, always very bold and confident where you lack in that department. It's fine, in his eyes, he can flirt enough for the both of you.

"And did you?" You ask, channelling the final dregs of braveness in you for today.

James laughs, surprised by your boldness, "I did."

"So do it."

And he does. It's soft and sweet and everything you never imagined kissing James Potter would be. Sure, he's a kind boy, gentle with you always, but he's a massive flirt, and you'd always assumed he'd kiss like one. But this is better. So much better.

He pulls you close, a hand on your jaw and his lips moving in slow, languid kisses, breath warm as it fans over your face. He tastes like Sirius' mint lip balm concoction - the sure fire way to make sure my Moons always wants a snog - and coffee from breakfast. He's strong and firm as he stands there, allowing you to lean into him fully.

The kiss only lasts a handful of seconds, but it leaves you short of breath, your cheeks appled out from the sheer force of your smile.

"So," James speaks softly, tucking a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, "Flying, have I changed your mind?"

You laugh, leaning further into his sturdy chest, "If you kiss me like that every time I get off a broom then yes, Jamie, you've changed my mind."

#marauders #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #lily evans #love #peter pettigrew #fluff #regulus black #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter one shot #marauders fic #fourmoonys asks

[brookheimer]

looking at the 'midseason trailer' and seeing roman fighting his siblings, roman shitting on gerri, roman working for fascists, roman walking proudly through ATN like logan did just two days prior... it's not surprising, but it is fucking sad.

logan's death will not free roman. instead, it will reforge the chains he's worn all his life, casting them in iron -- that's what roman deserves for thinking, for the first time in his life, that maybe he wants the chains off. that's what roman deserves for killing his father by not loving him enough, by not loving him correctly or at the right times. logan's death will not free roman at all. if anything, it will imprison him.

(as always, this got very long, so keep reading under the cut!)

this was the worst case scenario for roman. not just logan dying, but the exact way everything played out. he betrayed his siblings, he fired gerri -- for nothing. he could have been on the plane with his father in his last moments -- he refused. his last interaction with his father was leaving logan a voice message that called him a cunt -- the first time roman has ever, ever, questioned or stood up to his father, and also the last. we don't know what killed logan. we probably never will. but god if it won't feel awfully coincidental to roman: the one time he fought back against his father or even showed the slightest hint of doing so, his father died. is it likely that logan heard roman's voice memo and keeled over because he called him a cunt? no. but is it just as possible as anything else? entirely. roman might have killed his dad. roman murdered logan when he could've been on the plane with him holding his hand, if he were a good son. he didn't even tell logan he loved him. not that he needed to, it fucking oozed from his every pore and the desperate nature of that love was one of the reasons logan could never quite stand him -- but that's not the point. roman's one attempt at agency, at setting boundaries, at standing up for himself killed his fucking father.

logan dying would never have been good for roman, at least in his current state, no matter how the actual death came to pass. people often talk about abusive relationships as if the end-all-be-all fixer to abuse is independence, and it's not. independence isn't always enough to heal, especially not when it's forced upon you rather than something you choose. this is especially true for roman, i think. what roman needed was not just to gain his own independence, but to realize that independence and love are not mutually exclusive, that gaining one does not mean losing the other. logan's always hammered in roman's weakness, his wrongness; roman was never someone who deserved to be loved on his own terms. roman's never considered himself to be someone with agency and authority in his relationships -- he's been told over and over again that he isn't a real person, that there's something deeply wrong and unfixable in him, and he believes it. he's never set boundaries with his father or even his siblings because i don't think he really realizes he has the power to do that. he's simply there until people decide they no longer have use for him or want him around, and he'll always come crawling back after a kick because he doesn't realize he's not on a leash -- that he doesn't need to be on a leash. independence has been unreachable all his life, he isn't normal or real enough to be a real normal independent capable person, but if he grovels and shows his use enough, then maybe he can be loved. but his dependence and loyalty is all he's good for. independence means no love, no family, no relationships. and roman desperately wants, needs, those relationships in a way that none of the other characters do (or at least can admit to) -- he wants his father in his life, no matter what; he wants his siblings in his life, no matter what. but independence, being his own person, separating himself from logan's side means he'd lose everything else, everyone else. he's not good for anything anyways. it's not like he has other options.

...until the start of season four. that's why this is all so tragic -- more than anyone else, it seemed like roman was on the road to healing. it seemed like he was finally realizing that independence and love might not be as mutually exclusive as he's been made to think: maybe he could be independent while still having a relationship with his siblings and even his father. maybe he could have his cake and eat it too. he's realized that he's capable, that he has his own worth, and that he can be successful without living under logan's thumb -- and, more importantly, could still text him on his birthday and try to rebuild a relationship, this time outside of business. outside of "that room" in waystar royco. an actual fucking family relationship. that's what escaping the cycle would look like for roman — not complete separation, not a metaphorical killing of his father, but the ability to live alongside him, to have a life outside of him, to love his father without living for him. so simply removing logan from the equation wouldn’t help roman, not when what he needs most is to realize that self-respect is not mutually exclusive with love, that being your own person isn’t a betrayal, that family and love aren’t dependent on how low you can kneel and won’t be whisked away the moment you stand up. and for the first time in his life, it seemed like he was on track to discovering this. maybe he and the siblings could have the hundred, logan could keep going with atn, and in a few years down the line they'd all get together to talk shop and joke around and coexist -- for the first time, he had started to think of himself as enough of a real, okay person to be allowed to coexist with his family, rather than naturally subordinating himself in every interaction.

roman could’ve been his own person, could’ve escaped the cycle, could’ve started a business with his siblings and tried to heal, but now he won’t. he can’t. roman can’t become his own person now, not when his first attempt to do so is exactly what killed logan. it’s his fault. he fucked up and now there’s no dad. he gained his independence, but at what cost? love. that’s the cost. it always has been and always will be. nothing could be more detrimental to roman roy than the exact series of events that occurred in this episode, because just as he started to see a world beyond his father, logan dies -- proving once and for all that the only world beyond logan is one without him in it at all. that’s been roman’s fear all along and why he’s stuck so close to his side: roman loves and loves and loves and is terrified, terrified, of death. of loss. but in a moment of 'weakness,' roman wobbled (he tried to stand up to logan rather than just taking the kicks as he's supposed to, as he always has), and his father paid the ultimate price. there’s no more dad. there’s no reviving him.

…unless, of course, there is. unless roman can undo his error by choosing his father again, and again, and again. becoming logan is the closest roman can get to resurrecting him, after all. and besides, doesn’t he owe it to dad after killing him? after calling him a cunt, choosing not to be with him on that plane he ended up dying on? after forgetting to even say “i love you dad” before the end? roman needs to fix things. needs to make it like dad's still here. needs to make it like he didn't kill his own father by refusing him for the first time in his life. so roman will be the firebreather logan wanted -- he'll do ATN, he'll push for mencken, he'll do whatever it fucking takes to try and make things right. if it's his fault logan's no longer here, then he needs to do everything he possibly can to fulfill his dying wishes, to do what logan would've done, were he alive.

"dad can't die, he's dad." he can't ever die. he's immortal, and his immortality was solidified by the circumstances of his death -- logan will not die. he’ll live on in roman, as roman.

roman will make sure of it.

#to clarify -- i do not think this is roman's endgame. i Hope it is not his endgame. i just think based on the previews and everything we #know about both him and the upcoming episodes... i think this is where his arc is heading for now. and it will be UNBEARABLE to watch #i'm hoping things get better by the end. that there's reconciliation and an ending open enough to allow for a slim possibility of future #healing. but as of right now... i think things are going to get a lot - a LOT - fucking worse before they get better (if they get better..) #k it's 1:30 am i haven't read over this at all so fair warning there. but yeah. told yall i had a lot of thoughts re: what this might do to #roman. hats off to jesse armstrong for creating the literal worst situation imaginable for him. fucking ingenious. i too love putting this #sad little man in situations! but yeah. gonna be watching thru my hands but eating it up while weeping etc etc etc #succession #succession spoilers #roman roy #succession meta #succession s4 #connor's wedding #logan roy #casey shut the fuck up about roman roy #100 #500 #succession speculation

[merakiui]

Not a request for full stories (unless you want to later on) Just typical mer eggs's rambles

But we will need to think about something about jade in captivity now. Maybe a small ramble?

What if both the twins were caught together maybe?

Ooooooo What if Floyd and/or Jade were the princess's present instead of Azul!!!

What if the princess wasn't the first born and wasn't married off?

Sincerely,

Mer Eggs Anon (idk why I sign off so weirdly every time lol-)

Jade in captivity!!!! Oh, he's a menace, even more so than Floyd usually is. Jade will intentionally act like he isn't super intelligent and witty when he's interacting with the researchers just so they won't think anything more of his capabilities. He keeps a lot of things about himself hidden, like the fact that he can mostly understand human speech and body language after observing it for so long. He is cooperative when it comes to the usual check-ups, but he draws the line at things like the researchers trying to poke and prod at intimate, sensitive areas like his gills or slit or fins. Jade smiles so cordially, speaking in calm clicks (though none of the researchers ever know that he's cursing them or saying terrible things about them in mermish lol).

His vocabulary isn't the biggest when it comes to human words, but he knows most of the basics. It's how he's able to communicate a little with you, but he waits a very long time before he actually speaks to you, gauging your threat level and whether or not he both trusts you enough to be entertaining and also if he likes you. You're so used to hearing his clicks and whistles and chitters, so when you hear a silky-smooth "Good morning," from him you nearly jump out of your skin. orz Jade loves to surprise...

:o omg if Floyd and Jade were gifted to Reader instead of Azul... there are so many possibilities. Unlike Azul who has mostly civil relations with the palace staff (up until the day he's transferred back to the sea, that is), Floyd and Jade are fearsome and unsettling. They intentionally scare the staff, only ever softening when you're around. They're small and mostly harmless as elvers (only because it's an unfamiliar environment and they have to assess every danger while conserving energy in case they do need to drop the harmless act and fight), so it's a great shock when they both quickly outgrow their tank. They grow to be such big, strong eels. T_T it terrifies the staff whenever they pass the pool and spy the twins peering out from the depths, but you've never once been scared. Sure, the twins can be...odd with their morbid humor and way of doing things, but they're your friends and they've never given you a reason to fear them.

In the event that you aren't betrothed, things are pleasant. You live within the palace, spending plenty of time with the both of them. When they reach sexual maturity and breeding season rolls around, things get difficult. You don't know nearly as much about eel mers as you should, so when they're coaxing you into the pool you feel a little worried. You don't trust their sticky smiles and drawling voices, and the way their bodies flush so brightly, the patterns nearly hypnotic with how vivid they are, something stirs within you. You feel bad about running off when they may need your help, but it's the first time you've felt unsafe around them.

The twins resolve to try a gentler, less direct approach. One way or another, you'll eventually find yourself sandwiched between them, their tails curling between your legs in the water. Even though you aren't betrothed, it's still a scandal if the princess falls pregnant before she's even found someone to marry. The circumstances are a little unique, though. Even the physician can't quite wrap their head around how it's possible, but the proof lies in your womb. Jade and Floyd filled you with two entire clutches and it leaves you so unwieldy and gravid. But you're just too precious. Now that they've claimed you as theirs, you won't ever have to entertain the idea of marriage to another human. :)

It may get boring living out cyclical days in the palace pool, but at least they have you. And one day they'll find a way to escape back to the sea. Once they do, they'll take you and the fry with them to pursue a happily ever after in the ocean. <3

#twisted chit chat #mer eggs anon #yandere twst #tw: oviposition #tw: pregnancy #n/sfw #i love the way you sign off!!! it feels like reading the ending of a letter hehe :D

[lizzychanstuffss]

i’ve had this fic prompt floating around in my head for while now and can’t stop thinking about it hnnngg

okay so i’ve seen a couple fics of Astarion being protective of the reader, but what about the reverse? i wanna see Star’s durge/former durge partner—if he lets them—go full guard dog mode on whoever is stupid enough to pick a fight or be rude to him. both of them know that the other is fully capable of handling things on their own but that doesn’t stop them from wanting to protect each other.

gender neutral tav/durge/reader please? if you decide to write it that is ^-^

have a nice day/night!

So the very large fic I am still working on has both of these in it but because I am also a sucker for fics where Astarion gets scary dog privilege from durge I will also do a shorter one for that! :3

Atarion x Durge!Tav GN

Spoilers for act 3 (also be warned this is super self-indulgent in regards to a certain drow scene)

CW: canon typical violence

BOOM

The explosion was jarring to say the least and startled everyone in the party. Although that was quickly shaken off by seeing who exited the house causing your eye to twitch with anger.

"HOT! HOT! HOT!" The drow spoke as she casted a healing spell along with brushing off some of the ash staining her clothes, you had hoped to never see the bitch again but here you are staring at her face to face...and wanting to rip it off.

"Oh my silks-" 

"No no noooooo! We are leaving. I am done with your bullshite woman" You say and begin to walk away, your party stared at you slightly confused. As it wasn't like you to just walk away like this even with people you hated. Although Astarion caught on to what was happening rather quickly.

He grabs your hand before you can walk off whispering in your ear. "If you are doing this for me...well thank you but just talking to her won't kill us." You looked at him, your brow darkened.

"And if it does?" Voice no more than a whisper as you two had the private conversation.

"Well death never stopped me before. I don't know why it should now." He says slightly teasing you, as it seemed like this wasn't as serious to him as it was to you. 

"Astarion....I just think this might not be wise for me to be around her." You gave him a knowing look.

"If you do anything stupid I will simply pull you away before you hurt anyone....besides maybe she'll actually have something useful to tell us who knows." His words gave you pause, but the man knew you better than you wanted to admit. You could tell in the back of your mind that if you didn't at least ask about it then it would continue to gnaw at the back of your mind, so without further ado you turn around and step up to Araj.

"Alright sorry about that...are you okay?" Sighing as you speak, there is a noticeable amount of disgust behind your words. 

Brushing off your reaction to her, "I'm fine, but I think you'll like what I discovered...your blood has proved to be the breakthrough that I have needed in my research" She smiled, a shiver ran up your spine, and it wasn't pleasant.

"Oh and I see you brought the heartstop-" 

"If you say anything about Astarion or ask him to bite you again I will gut you." Your gaze is intense and shocks her a bit but all she can do is laugh.

"Why do you care so much? He's just your charge." At this point you had heard enough. "Besides I was just going to offer, not ask, what's the harm in that?" You could tell she was taunting him as well as yourself.

"Listen if you want to keep talking about him like he's not here then we’re leaving" You crossed your arms and she just pouted like a child who was told that couldn't have any more candy.

"Fine- Let's discuss your blood then, it's quite powerful and is exactly what I need to continue my research, but there is one more step I need you for actually...if you would come inside we can discuss it more." Turning away before you can give her an answer, just rolling your eyes before starting to walk to her door and feeling a particular vampire's hand squeezing yours. 

You give him a smile and step inside her destroyed home, looking around at all the wreckage. Carefully stepping around the destroyed surrounding as you were now all inside she then turned to you. 

"Alright so what was so important you needed me to come inside, and make it snappy my patience is wearing very thin Araj." 

Giving a fake smile she continued "I have a potion that will be able to unlock the latent potential of your blood. I admittedly have no clue what it will do to you but it should be very powerful." 

You think about it, but Astarion pipes up a disgust in his voice, "If that is her potion I am smelling, say no, all she's offering is pain and I don't want to see you hurt" Taking his words into consideration you answer her.

"I'm going to have to say no, I trust him more than I do you." You give her your own fake smile and then start to walk away from the obviously annoyed woman.

"You're listening to a vampire spawn really!?" She scoffs "First you defend him and tell him he's his own person...then you refuse to convince him to bite me" You could hear her rolling her eyes and you stop walking to the door. At this point it's just you and Astarion inside the building and you can feel an anger rising in Astarion, and yet he’s just trying to walk out of the building, but you can't take it anymore.

Turning to Araj you look her over, "If you say what I think you're about to say I highly suggest you rethink it...." Your threats are not thinly veiled in the slightest, not that you really intended them to be.

"What, he's just a sl-"

You grab her by the throat silencing her, causing Astarion to turn back, staring at you. He doesn't say anything, but you manage to catch his eyes with your own and then in a few moments there are words exchanged but nothing is spoken and it's simply ended by a nod on his end. That simple yes was enough to know what you were asking but also giving permission to do this on his behalf. He didn’t need you to do this for him, but he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t like when you got like this so without further ado he stepped back to enjoy the show.

You produce a knife from your pack and without a thought you shove it into her stomach, twisting it causing the drow to cry out in pain. You're enjoying this more than you want to admit. Yet it doesn't make you feel disgusting like the other times you've enjoyed violence. Your hand stays steady on her throat squeezing it until her cries were nothing more than gasps for air as she slowly faded away in your terrifying grasp.

Soon enough though she was nothing more than another corpse. Astarion placed his hand on your shoulder, it was a gentle touch as you slowly came to your senses turning to him after dropping the corpse of the drow.

"I'm sorry...I just couldn't stand how she was talking to you, I tried my best to hold back but" 

He kissed your forehead gently with a smile on his lips, "It's alright, my dear…besides I enjoy a bit of occasional bloodshed in defense of me." His lips are a soft comfort to you, you almost looked away back to the body but his hand directed your chin back to him. He keeps his hand there for a bit and you fall into his touch kissing his palm a little smile making its way to your lips. 

"We should probably clean this up shouldn't we?" You ask him, and he gives you one of his classic smirks.

"Well, we don't have to do anything~" He gets a little cheeky with his words and you can't help but roll your eyes playfully. Taking a note from him though the two of you walk out of the house closing the doors behind you and looking at your other companions you give them a smile.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel just look at you deadpan saying nothing figuring it was better just to not ask at this point. You shoot Astarion a smile as your group heads back out into a city.

#astarion #astarion romance #baulders gate 3 #astarion x tav #dark urge #astarion x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion x dark urge #astarionfics #my writing

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic yandere concept w/ Cynthia (Pokemon) please?

I did my research, I'll try my best! No banner but oh well.

Yandere! Cynthia Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Flirting, Manipulation, Stalking, Sugar mommy/baby dynamic discussed (It felt right for her, let me cook), Bribing, Kidnapping/Isolation, Possessive behavior, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Cynthia seems like she'd come off as intimidating but is actually rather sweet towards her obsession.

Just saying this off the bat... Cynthia gives off sugar mommy vibes.

How you meet is no doubt when she's not being champion.

She has her days when she just wants to stroll through Sinnoh, get some ice cream, be her.

Cynthia is also incredibly helpful and passionate when it comes to friends and Pokemon.

You meet her by chance, maybe getting ice cream yourself and deciding to ask the Champion for tips.

Tips that Cynthia is happy to give to a cutie like you.

Your "relationship" starts with her just giving tips and advice.

Soon you get into light conversations... deeper conversations... more personal info-

When you become friends is when Cynthia begins to realize she likes you in a different way than she originally thought.

Oh, don't get her wrong, she finds you and your Pokemon adorable.

She just had no idea she felt... that way about you.

Especially when she keeps watching you to try and meet up again.

Cynthia is no doubt capable of manipulating you as her obsession.

She wants you as a partner and does seem like she'd spoil her partner heavily.

That's probably also how she'd get you to be hers.

While you train your Pokemon and get better, Cynthia meets up with you.

She buys items for you and your Pokemon.

She coos over you when you use said items.

For example, a piece of jewelry.

Cynthia may also have a subtle sense of entitlement.

As Champion she feels like she should have you adoration.

She's capable of providing for you and often coos over you.

I have a feeling her way of manipulating you into a relationship can go one of two ways.

She makes you and her be partners the traditional way.

That or she manipulates you into being her sugar baby because she definitely has the money.

Everyone sees Cynthia intimidating due to her title and team.

Everyone knows of her infamous Garchomp.

But with you in private she is so sweet and kind.

She gives you smiles, gifts, and all the affection you could ever want.

She has the money and feels a possessive need to keep your attention on her.

Cynthia is subtle with her obsession and her jealousy.

She takes claim to you by dressing you fancy and taking you to all of her meet ups.

Even if you didn't want any rumors, everyone knows you as Cynthia's partner.

Cynthia is careful to not let anyone get too close to you.

But she is indeed possessive, you can tell by the way she wraps her arm around your waist.

Her smile even seems strained when someone gets too close.

You're hers... aren't you, precious?

If you have a Pokemon team then she'll offer to help train your team.

Anything for the one she loves, yeah?

She definitely holds you on her lap and kisses you.

She babys you at times and showers you in affection.

Her love and attention is only on you.

In return, she expects the same from you.

It's only fair, isn't it?

She flirts with you and uses her charm to keep your attention focused on her.

Why do you need to focus on anyone else, dear?

Whenever you look at anyone else she kindly redirects your attention.

Are the gifts not enough?

Is her love not enough?

You don't need to become Champion or any really skilled trainer, she'll take care of everything.

She pours her passion into every kiss touch.

She tries to distract you from everything else with her affections.

Soon... there's no need for you to leave the house.

You can move in, then you can be catered to.

If you try to leave then Garchomp is by the door, stopping you.

Don't worry, she won't hurt you.

She just suggests you go back inside... sit in your shared room... and enjoy a life of luxury.

All she asks in return is your love!

A kiss here, a hug there... maybe even something else if she's in the mood.

You'll be coddled and pampered all by her hand.

She merely wishes to love you and have you all to herself.

There's no need to share you, is there?

#yandere pokemon trainer #yandere pokemon #yandere cynthia #yandere pokemon cynthia

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Betrayed | Part 2

PAIRING | Male Avengers x Ex-Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.7K

SUMMARY | It has been a few weeks since you found out about the bet the guys placed on Steve taking your virginity. You haven't been back to the Compound since, but now that you're back you will not hesitate to make life absolute hell for each and every one of the guys who were involved.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Major angst, swearing, Reader getting revenge, and telekinesis are used for some interesting forms of revenge, someone gets choked a little bit, someone loses something near and dear to their heart, someone breaks a few fingers, and someone is put through literal hell again.

A/N | This is the follow-up to my request called Betrayed, which received a lot of love! If you haven't checked that one out already, I'd highly recommend you do it! If you would like to request something, please don't hesitate, I love writing requests for you all! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

You haven't been back at the Compound for a few weeks, especially after what happened when you found out about the bet the guys placed. They may have killed your dream career of being an Avenger now, but that doesn't mean you won't be out of their lives, and they will not forget it, you will make sure of that. You still needed to pick up your stuff from your bedroom, so you decided today would be the perfect day to get some of your stuff, and maybe play with the boys a little bit. They played with you first, after all. And you didn't have to wait long to have your first interaction. Right as you walked in, you saw none other than the golden boy himself, Steven Grant Rogers.

You decided to have a little fun with him now that you have your telekinesis better under control than last time. Without saying anything you stopped him from walking and pulling him towards you, making sure he couldn't go anywhere and he had to face you. ''What the-'' is all he said as he felt like ropes were being put around him, but he didn't see anything, yet he was still moved, and as soon as he turned around, his eyes turned wide with pure, unadulterated shock. You were back, and hungry for revenge after the stunt they pulled on you. ''What, don't have anything smart to say this time, Rogers?'' you snickered at him, having way too much fun with the way he's squirming in your grip.

''Y/N, please, let me go,'' he said with a stern voice, which only made you laugh. ''You seriously think I'm going to listen to you now? After you ruined my fucking life?! You should start doing stand-up comedy Rogers, you're too funny,'' you said, letting out a fake laugh. ''You don't even know how much you ruined my life, do you?'' you asked, tilting your head as you looked at him with a smirk. ''I- I'm sorry,'' is all he said, before dropping his eyes and trying to get out of the hold you have on him. ''Sorry isn't enough, hell, nothing will ever be enough to make up for the fact that you accepted a fucking bet to take my virginity. You honestly made me feel special - which in all fairness, is also on me, I should've known better than that - and took one of the most precious things in my life away from me, just like that. I didn't think you of all people would be capable of hurting someone like that. Guess I was wrong,'' you sighed.

When you held your little monologue you slowly stepped closer to him, and when you were right in his face you practically spat the words out, before actually spitting in his face. God, you hated him to his core for the games he played with you, and this wasn't even the beginning of what you could do to him. You started squeezing a little tighter while squeezing around his throat like a boa constrictor too. You were enjoying this way more than you should, but it felt good to finally be able to hurt him like he did to you, even if it was just a fraction of the hurt you felt. When you saw Steve's eyes roll back in his head showing he was about to pass out, you quickly released him and he was gasping for air while clawing at the floor, trying to hold on to anything the could get a hold on.

You didn't care and stepped right over him, letting him figure his shit out alone. You were on your way to your next victim, a certain archer under the name of Clint Barton, or Hawkeye, as the public knows him. You don't have to look very long, as he is in his training room shooting arrows. He just released an arrow and without a problem, you stopped that same arrow mid-air, making him snap his head around to where you're standing. ''Surprised to see me, Barton? It was only a matter of time before I would show up, now wasn't it? Especially since you were part of making my life a living hell,'' you said, your voice deepening at the last part of the sentence. His mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish, he didn't know what to say. You slammed him into the wall behind him with your hands in your pockets, and he fell to the floor like a ragdoll.

''Not so powerful without your little bow and arrows are you? I can't believe how much of a pathetic piece of shit you are,'' you spat at him while you broke his bow and all of his arrows with a flick of your hand. Not only did you get your telekinesis under control, you learned different ways of using your powers too. ''N-No! Not my bow!'' he said, he was attached to it since he used the same one ever since he learned archery. You snap it a few times for good measure, to ensure he would never be able to use it again. ''Stay out of my way from now on, and Laura and the kids will be safe,'' you said as a warning before physically stepping on his bow one last time, reveling in the crunch it made under your boot. ''God, I could listen to that sound forever,'' you said with a smirk as you turned around, leaving Clint laying on the floor with tears streaming down his face.

Finding Tony wasn't all that hard, since he was working in his lab most of the time, and today wasn't an exception to that rule. You didn't even try to hide the fact that you were looking for him, and Tony acted like he didn't care you were there, but he would care very soon. All you did was put up a little display of a fantasy of yours, where Pepper and Morgan were tied up, unable to move and they were gagged, so they wouldn't be able to scream for help. ''What the fuck did you do to my family, Y/L/N?'' he asked as his eyes quickly went up to the screen. ''Who, me? Don't you think it's rude to ask that seeing how you were a part of the bet that hurt me? That ruined my fucking life?!'' your words were laced with nothing but pure venom.

''Seriously, you're acting like a crazy bitch because we had a bet? I always knew you were unstable,'' Tony scoffed, but you could see the hurt in his eyes. He was wondering if what he saw was real or not. ''I may be unstable, but at least I don't spend every single hour stashed away in here tinkering with god knows what when you have a beautiful wife and daughter at home,'' you said laughing. ''I wonder how they're doing, I think I'm going to pay them a little visit to make sure they still remember me,'' you said as you stepped closer, your eyes honing in on the device in his chest. ''But I think I may have a better way of hurting them,'' is all you said before you turned the device in Tony's chest off with a single flick of your finger.

Since this was still keeping the shrapnel away from his heart when it was on, you could see him squirm as he was working to get it turned back on, to no avail. ''Y/N, please don't do this,'' he begged, but you wanted to see him suffer a little more. The best way you knew how to do that, was to tinker with his iron man suit a little bit, and you crossed a few wires here and there, took out some of the hardware, and smacked the suit against the walls a few times for good measure. Right at that moment Tony was practically begging on his knees for you to stop, and you finally caved. You didn't plan on killing the man, so you turned the device back on so he would continue to live.

''Don't think for a single fucking second I won't keep it off the next time, Stark. Honestly, I never thought I would enjoy seeing you on your knees begging me so much, I think I might have you beg just a little longer,'' you said as you continued to ruin things around his lab, things that were near and dear to his heart. ''Please, please stop, I will do anything if you just stop,'' he said with tears streaming down his face, making you laugh maniacally. ''Pathetic asshole,'' is the last thing you said before stomping on his hand, effectively breaking all his fingers so he wouldn't be able to do anything for a long time. It felt good to hurt him like that, you were starting to feel a lot better now.

''Only one left now is Barnes, you don't happen to know where he is, do you?'' you asked with a sweet voice as if you didn't just break his fingers. ''Gym,'' is all he managed to get out before you turned around. You walked into a straight line to the gym to meet Bucky, and you swing open the door, startling the super soldier as he meets your gaze in the mirror in front of him. ''You're back,'' he whispers as he sees you, and you just laugh at him. ''Yeah, I am. And you're going to regret ever getting out of the claws of HYDRA,'' you say before using your mind control on him. You let him relive every single bad memory he ever made.

He sinks to his knees and he puts his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the noise in his head as you let him relive his worst nightmares, only 10 times worse. He starts squirming on the floor as you keep going, and you make a high-pitched noise go through his head too. ''S-STOP!'' is all he can mutter over and over, but you don't want to. When you eventually do stop, you see that there is nothing left of the man he was before you came in, and you're feeling good about it. ''That's what you get for being best friends with the man who ruined my fucking life, you dick,'' you said before turning around and grabbing your stuff from your bedroom. You were glad you finally got your revenge, and it felt damn good to finally have inner peace.

#avengers #avengers x female reader #avengers fanfiction #avengers x y/n #avengers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #iron man #tony stark #clint barton #hawkeye

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Taking Care

Papa Emeritus IV x Nanny/Sister of Sin!Reader

TW: smut obviously, cheating, mentions of alcoholism and drug use, child does get hurt at one point but they are okay!, mentions of pregnancy, breeding smut, mentions of condoms in case that makes you uncomfy. Let me know if there's anything else I need to add, things get a little heavy in this one.

Word Count: 10.4k

This started off as a dirty little scandalous idea, actually based on a previous fandom I used to write for, and it turned into a big thing... As all of my fics do. I don't think I'm capable of writing anything short anymore. Also @sweatandwoe came up with the title 😉

Anyway! Papa IV has a horrible Prime Mover who is never present at home, and it leads to him developing some feelings for the nanny. Enjoy!

𝘓𝘢 𝘢𝘮𝘰... Copia thought to himself as he fondly observed the sight before him, framed by the paned glass door leading to the balcony: his little one bouncing on your hip as you cooed at him, trying to get the bambino back to sleep. The antipope had returned home late from the ministry offices, as he often did, entering his suite completely exhausted, kicking off his shoes to let his aching feet relax, perking back up a bit upon laying eyes on you.

Eyes glossed over as a cheery little smile came to his face, he simply watches as you saunter back and forth, his progeny lulling back to sleep in your arms. Before he even realizes, his sore feet carry him right out to the balcony, making his presence known.

"Oh! Good evening, Papa!" you whisper, not wanting to rouse the little one.

"No need for such formalities, 𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢..." he mocks you with a wink.

A faint blush colors your cheeks; always so charismatic, even when he's as tired as he looks. Luckily before you can put more thought into it, baby Giovanni stirs a little, sitting back up and eyes popping open.

"Sh, sh, shhh..." you hum pressing a kiss to his little head.

"D-deh..." he whines reaching out towards Copia.

Letting out a little shocked gasp, you feign, "Who's that? Who is he, huh? Is that Daddy?"

With the sweetest giggle, the little one exclaims for his Da-da, reaching out again.

Copia swoops right over, playfully bending down to smooch his only son, getting a bit of black face paint on the soft fuzz of the little one's head. "Whoopsies, we'll have to wash you up, piccolino," he runs a finger delicately over his little cheek.

As Copia stands up straight again, and his baby stretches right back out for him.

"I think someone wants Daddy, yeah?" you try to urge your boss to take the bundle in your arms.

Instead, he does the unexpected. Wrapping an arm around the small of your back, he pulls you flush to him, cocooning his son between you. You and Copia both have an arm supporting the baby, as he holds you both close to him.

"Someone wants Daddy, sì?" he asks, and you're not sure if that was for you or Gio. Either way, it draws another blush to your cheeks.

Copia looks you over, eyes softening now that his little one is safe between you. In your avoidance of eye contact, you didn't see him lean in, only feeling his lips press softly to your forehead; surely you would have a mark as his child did. The softest gasp escapes you; it isn't lost on you that things had not been well for some time between him and his Prime Mover...

Maybe you were reading too much into it. Perhaps he was just being affectionate. You knew he could be handsy, and he'd had a long day; he was probably just seeking a moment of comfort before bed.

"Let's go put him down for the night, eh?" Copia motions to his baby boy.

You were so lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed he drifted back off. Snapping back into action to take him to bed, Copia stops you, scooping the bundle from your arms, giving you a warm smile as he disappears back inside to the nursery connected to his bedroom. You trail behind the man to make sure he won't need help with anything.

Laying the little one in his basinet, Copia offers him one last goodnight kiss and jokingly promises not to disturb him again. The man turns to see you standing in the doorway, illuminated by the soft glow of the night light in the room.

"I should retire to bed before he wakes again in a few hours," you dutifully remark, eyes cast down and thumbs twirling together.

Gloved fingers brush your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, "It's a blessing having you here." Softly he cups your jaw, while his other hand grips your waist, effectively pinning you to the door frame. "May I kiss you, cara mia?"

Wide eyed, you stare up at him as about a million thoughts race through your mind. 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘱𝘢? 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶... 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬? 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯... 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬. 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦? 𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘯...

Copia inhales and starts to straighten up, "It's quite alright if you don't want to, cara. I do apologize if I made you uncomf-"

Snapping out of your thoughts, your arms snake around his neck and your lips crash into his. Immediately, his hands cradle the back of your head and your waist, keeping you flush against him. The way his mouth moves against yours is sinful to say the least; he's quick to use his tongue, tracing it across your bottom lip before giving it a quick nip with his teeth. It was masterful really.

Within seconds, your mouth was giving him access, his tongue desperately wanting to meet yours, which drew a small whimper from you. While he moved excitedly within your mouth, you were more hesitant. Stupid as it may sound, you weren't sure you wanted to tempt him more; you had already totally crossed the line and disrespected your Prime Mover.

You know Copia isn't the kind to cheat, but he's been so miserable lately, always arguing with her, only for her not to remember a thing because she's so intoxicated. She was always out at parties and hardly ever home, and when she was in his suites, she was practically out of her mind. He's been trying so hard to get her the help she needs, but she won't take it. She likes the money, the power, the drink and drugs her position can afford her more than the life she's made here in the Abbey. It's sad really, especially with the baby involved.

The heat of the kiss had simmered down a lot and Papa slowly pulls away from you, searching your eyes for what went wrong. "I'm sorry, Papa, I shouldn't have- It was completely inappropriate of me to-" You try to pull away from him, but you only manage to slide your hands down to his chest before his grip on you returns, holding you close.

He swiftly pulls you outside the child's nursery and lightly clicks the door shut, so as not to disturb him.

"Papa, I'm- I'm so sorry..." It barely comes as a whisper.

"For what, tesoro? Giving me the kiss that I offered to you first? Now that's the real slight against me," he quips playfully, giving you a warm smile.

You hated to admit it, but it felt so nice being held so close to him. He always smelled of expensive cologne, it was heady getting to take in the scent at such proximity. All that consumed your mind in that moment was laying your head on his chest, so you did. Forehead in the crook of his neck, your eyes flutter closed and take in the soft moment.

Rubbing gentle circles into your back, his voice rumbles against your ears, "You're probably sleepy, piccolina. Let's get you to bed." Without another word, he leads you right down the hall to the guest room that was all yours. You never really returned to the Sisters of Sin quarters since you were the full time caregiver to the Emeritus heir.

It could get lonely at times, so you were grateful for the days when other Siblings would be assigned to work with you, whether to give you a break or to take Giovanni on an outing like a picnic or to the beach. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘯, 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘢𝘱𝘢 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳... Sleepily, you yawn as you arrive at your door.

Copia opens the door for you, stopping at the threshold. A gentleman even in his own home. "Goodnight, cara mia."

"Goodnight, Papa," you mumble, hands returning to his chest.

He couldn't help himself; he leans in pressing another kiss to your lips, fingers tangling in your hair for a brief moment before pulling away again. You may have whined at the loss; you aren't sure in your sleepy state. Looking up at him, the man bites his bottom lip, and only then do you realize how smudged his face paint is, especially around his mouth. Copia simply nods at you one final time before closing you in your room, and you let out a groan, knowing you should wash all the black and gray off of your face before bed.

• • •

The next morning you emerge from your room a little earlier than normal and in a bit of a tizzy, because Giovanni is already crying and that's not like him. Turns out he just needs a diaper change, but of course he's hungry afterwards. 𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺.

Baby in tow, you head to the kitchen to warm up his bottle. You pass Copia in the living space, adorned with a little couch and TV, as he's having his morning coffee and reading the newspaper; he really could be a stereotypical old man sometimes. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴.

"Up so early, you two?" He sets his mug down, promptly following you to the kitchen.

"Yes, he was extra whiny this morning, so I couldn't put him off any longer," you explain.

It was pretty rare to see Copia before he left in the morning. He was always up so early and home so late. This morning he was already dressed and face painted; you were sure he was getting ready to walk out the door any minute.

As you reach for the kettle to warm some water for the baby's bottle, you feel a large hand on the small of your back, and suddenly you're acutely aware of the fact that you are only in your silky nightgown. You hadn't had time to put on your habit this morning.

"Let me help, Stellina, I don't get to do enough for the little guy," Copia chuckles at the little one, pinching his cheek before moving to warm up the water.

You turn your attention back to keeping the little one calm, as he could get quite cranky when he's hungry. The antipope stops to admire the sight before him as the kettle heats up: your undivided attention on his child, the curve of your hip holding him, the bare skin of your collarbones and shoulders. It has his mind drifting to all the places he'd like to mark on you; you were just so motherly, even though you had none of your own... He'd like to be the one to give you one, or many.

Just as the pot starts to spit and sputter, before it can reach boiling, Copia quickly pours it into a large bowl, submerging one of the many bottles you kept ready in it to warm the formula up.

You lightly press a kiss to baby Gio's head as he laughs at his father for some unknown reason.

"What's so funny, huh?" he turns and gets right in the baby's face, eyes wide and smile big.

"Who's that?" you coo.

"Da... D-" he babbles; he was still learning his first words.

"Close enough, eh?" Copia giggles before gasping and covering his face with his hands.

"Oh no, where's Daddy?!" you feign looking for him.

A burst of laughter comes from the little one when Copia reveals his face again. Peekaboo always did the trick.

By now the bottle would be warm enough, so the man slides an arm under his child, taking him from you. Quickly tossing him up in the air, the baby squeals happily, as he settles into his father's arms. As Copia reaches for a towel and the bottle, the infant points at you, "Mama!" It was the clearest word he'd ever said.

"Oh no, sweetie, I'm not-" you start, but Copia finishes it.

"Sì? She is kinda like your Mama, yeah?" He bounces the baby and gives him the bottle.

"Copia... I'm not his mother. She'll be pissed."

"She's never here. You're all he knows. Satanas, 𝘐'𝘮 not even here as much as I'd like to be. You'll be the only reason he turns out right," he ponders out loud, face looking forlorn at the thought.

"Well... Maybe we should plan something? Give him a Daddy son day, yeah?" you suggest.

"I shouldn't only be around for the fun times. You deserve more help, and he deserves for at least one of his parents to be here for him," Copia asserts, leaving no room for argument. "I'll go in late today. I want to help you get him ready this morning. And tomorrow, I'll come home early."

You weren't sure how Sister Imperator was going to like that, but it seems he's made up his mind, and you certainly weren't going to complain about seeing him more.

• • •

Copia kept to his word and stayed through the baby's entire morning routine, burping him, getting him washed up and dressed for the day. And of course he didn't leave you without a kiss.

The next day, he arrived to his papal suite early, just as he said, and helped you fix dinner. Normally it was just you and the baby, so you ate whatever was around; you weren't above eating sliced up hot dogs and applesauce. But since Papa was home and wasn't used to eating that way, he helped you cook, making pasta, alfredo sauce, and some broccoli and zucchini for a side.

You spoon fed Gio a jar of baby food while Copia worked his magic at the stovetop. Sleeves rolled up and apron donned, he checks every pot and pan diligently, tasting and adding ingredients where necessary. He really was built for this; it's a shame he isn't able to be home more.

Once he was done, your Papa insisted on you taking it easy for the evening. From pulling out your chair at the dinner table to fixing your plate, you weren't doing a thing. It felt unreal, like you shouldn't even be there if you weren't doing your job, but it also felt nice to have him doting over you, even if it was wrong. Copia even chopped some noodles really small for his son to try; Gio was going to be a mess later, but he needed a bath anyway.

Which after the delicious meal, Copia handled that too. He was perhaps a little inexperienced and ended up covered in water himself, but he was so happy to kneel next to you on the bathroom tile and take care of his little one. And seeing Copia holding a bundle of towels afterwards was probably the cutest thing ever.

"Go wash up yourself, Stellina. I'll put il bambino down, I picked out his pajamas and everything. Meet me back in the main room for a movie, hm?" The man softly grabs your hand, kinda like he was asking you on a date.

"Oh, o-okay," you bite your lip.

"You do not have to if it would not make you happy, tesoro." You were both treading new waters.

"No, no. I'll be there." You offer him a smile.

He returns it, happy you accepted his offer. "Bene. See you then," he gives you a wink before heading off to the nursery.

• • •

After your respective showers, Copia relaxed on the sofa in nothing more than a pair of silk pajama pants that left little to the imagination. You try to avoid eye contact with a certain... outline, as you enter the room, donning a few more layers than him. He didn't wear a stitch of paint and his hair was still damp.

He admires your look of cozy pajama shorts, a tank top, and a short robe loosely tied over top. Moving to lie on his side, Copia pats the spot in front of him, meaning you need to squeeze in right next to him on the little seat. It seemed especially small now at the thought of having to share it with him.

And it's not that you don't want to. You just knew what it could lead to, and that makes you hesitant. The thought of cuddling up next to your boss, your Papa, and his Prime Mover could walk in the door at any moment, although it was unlikely.

"Is okay, tesoro, I'm nervous too," the man admits to you, "but I desire to be closer with you." Apparently, he means physically closer as he slides an arm around your waist as you sit next to his lounging form. He quickly catches your hand, kissing your knuckles. "C'mon, cara, get comfortable," he urges you, "Lie down with me if you'd like."

You oblige him, laying on your back with him still on his side beside you, faces mere inches from one another. "Hey," you greet him, a nod to the nearness.

"Hi," he replies, looking over the features of your face that he adores so much.

You'd never really gotten to look into his eyes like this before and take in the lack of pigment in that white iris; it's fascinating the way it nearly glows, and so well balanced by the warm golden hues present in his green eye.

"You're a good dad, Copia." You're not sure what prompted it, but after all the work he'd put in this evening, he deserved to hear that. And you could tell the work wouldn't end there; he wanted to be more present in his child's life.

"Grazie, Stellina," he gingerly lays his arm across your waist, "I couldn't do it without you."

Between his praises and his fingers tracing shapes along your side, your cheeks betray you and blush a deep shade. Scanning your face for any indication he should stop, he slowly presses a few small pecks to your jawline, and he catches you in a passionate kiss before asking what movie you'd like to watch.

After settling in on a classic you'd both seen before, you turn to your side, so Copia is spooning his body against yours, propped up just so that you can both see the large screen. With his warmth settled all around you, worry crossed your mind that you may not make it through the entire movie...

He was just so soft and warm... inviting... His breath at the nape of your neck soothing your heavy eyelids-

𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵- 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦... 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸?

Keeping your eyes glued to the screen, you subtly arch your back, pretending to stretch, feeling out the... 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 behind you. When you receive a stifled groan from your Papa, feeling his erection pressed tight against your backside, your inquiry is answered.

His arm draped around your waist tightens its grip, keeping you oh so close to him; you feel him let out a hot shaky breath before pressing a kiss to your neck. The feeling immediately sends a spark running through you as his mouth warms up your sensitive skin.

Your fingers lace with his as your ass wriggles against him again, earning a wanton moan from your Papa.

"Dolcezza... Look what you do to me," he whispers next to your ear.

"Papa," you breathe out, turning to catch his lips in a fierce kiss, the movie long since forgotten about. Quickly into the kiss, you're shifting onto your back, fingers tangling in his hair, to give him better access to your body.

His fingers delicately trace your jaw and neck, a sharp juxtaposition to the way his lips attack yours, needy and starved for attention. His lips deserved to be kissed like this every day; you couldn't understand why his Prime Mover would throw away the opportunity. Speaking of...

"Copia," you pull away from him suddenly, chests heaving as you both seek to fill your lungs again.

"Sì, bella mia? What is on that pretty little mind?"

Between the way his words make your heart swell and the shaft trapped against your hip, what you need to tell him fumbles on your lips. "We, uh... Copia, we- we shouldn't."

"Mm..." he grunts, "we shouldn't." He leans up to kiss your forehead, "But I want to. I want you. What do you want, cara mia?" He caresses your cheek again.

"I-" you look up for a minute, taking a deep breath, "I want you, too," you whisper, looking right into his eyes, like you were afraid to admit that you wanted your boss. But you do. He's damn near perfect! He's your Papa. He's the one you swore your vows to when you became a Sister of Sin. He's so devoted to his work, to the church, to his followers. He's a good dad. Damn it, you can't understand how she doesn't want him.

If his Prime Mover wasn't going to take care of him, then you would.

Your lips crash back into his, fingertips raking along his scalp harshly, causing him to rut his hips against you, desperate for your touch. As you moan against each other's mouths, his hand explores your body, sliding down your side, your hip, your thigh. Fingers trail up inside your shorts, teasing at the fabric of your panties.

You nearly whine in anticipation, only just now realizing how much you wanted his fingers inside you. Taking your little noise as a good sign, Copia slides his hand between your legs, urging your thighs apart and fabric out of the way as he runs two fingers through your slick folds.

Just to accentuate his actions, he draws your bottom lip between his, nibbling at your swollen flesh, which leaves you room to let out a breathy moan. "Cara..." he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes blown wide with lust for you, "so wet for me..." He bites his lip, pushing those two fingers deep inside you. Gasping loudly at the feeling, your hands roam his bare skin across his neck, collarbone, chest. He ruts into you at the same pace that he pushes his fingers in and out, eyebrows furrowed, clearly fighting the urge to rush right into things.

"... feels so good, Papa. So good," you praise him, fingernails scratching at him.

"Sorella... I could say the same to you," he pants, brows softening as he presses a kiss to your cheek. How he managed to be so soft yet build such a fire between your legs made no sense to you, but you revel in the dizzying feeling of it all. You feel your walls petal around his digits thats he works in and out of you, thumb frequenting your clit, making you arch for him. "So tight, so warm, Sorella. I can't wait to feel you fully, amore."

"Copia," you drag his name out, "Copia, I need you." His duochromatic eyes search yours, and when your hand snakes down to grip his hot girth, he doesn't have to be told twice.

He curls his fingers sharply one good time, making you mewl out his name again, and pulls them out of you. Quickly, fingers rush to shove your too many layers off to the floor; first the robe, then the shorts, before he pulls you up off the couch, walking you backwards towards his room, lips never leaving yours.

Upon the back of your knees hitting the foot of the bed, the antipope shoves you back on the lofty mattress. Immediately he's on top of you, moving you back onto the pillows. After throwing your tank top across the room, his mouth latches onto your collarbone, sucking a sizable love mark there, fingers tangling into your hair. His other hand found your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as his eyes flicked up to yours to make sure he wasn't going too far.

Your fingers grant him permission with a gentle scratch on the head, and his mouth moves to suck on the soft flesh of your bosom. Toying with the waistband of your panties, he tugs them down, sitting back on his haunches as he flings them off. He leaves you on the bed to free himself from those devilish silk pants, erection springing free, heavy with lust, as he reaches into the bedside drawer to pull out a condom.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦...

"Are you ready, cara mia?" he prompts, almost like a nervous teenager doing it for the first time.

Scanning over his body, completely bare to you from his messy hair to his flushed chest, bushy happy trail, and leaky shaft, you nod your head, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "Please, Copia."

Without another word, he ripped the little package and rolled the protection onto himself before climbing back on top of you. It felt good to have him there, like he belonged this close to you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he lined himself up with you. He worked gently, as if he might break you if he did what he really wanted to do. Really, it was romantic the way he rocked his hips ever so slowly, cradling your head in his hand, his eyes fluttered closed as he exhaled what felt like all the air in his lungs, nose nuzzling against the side of your neck.

You whine for more as he languidly fills you, his girth pressing on all your walls; you were grateful to have been partially stretched by his fingers earlier. Looking down at him, you bite your lip before pressing a light kiss to his forehead. He meets your eyes, pressing a kiss to your jawline in response.

Finally, it feels like he's bottomed out in you, and his knees dig into the bed as he gives one final push, that last little bit feeling so much more sensational than all the rest as he makes contact with that sweet spot his fingers teased earlier. Letting out an airy whimper, your eyes screw shut as he stays put, taunting the spot without moving.

"P-p-mmm... papaplease-" you whine for him to end his torture.

His cock twitches inside you, and a wicked grin forms on his lips, knowing what he's doing to you. He hasn't even moved yet and you've probably already forgotten your name. It may have been a while since he'd gotten any action, but he was happy to see he hadn't lost his touch.

After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out a bit, relieving the pressure on that spot deep inside you. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, and he slides right back in, his tip kissing your sweet spot. Gasping as your thighs tighten their grip around him, he grins again, this time settling just above you to kiss your nose as you take on his assault.

Moving slowly at first, he relaxes into the pleasure of you: the way your delicate fingers curl into his hair, the way your jaw hangs open in pleasure, your eyes looking up into his longing for one another... How long you'd pined for one another without even realizing it; he'd wanted you from the moment he'd met you, seeing the way you cared for his progeny better than anyone else could.

With each thrust he wants you to know how much he cares for you, wants for you, needs you. Tears of lust and longing stain his lashes as he loses himself in the feeling of you surrounding him. As if to add to what he was already feeling, you pull him into a sweet but spicy makeout. His hips pick up pace, needing more.

"Dolcezza... I don't think I'll last..." he lets you know.

"Me either, Papa. Touch me, please."

Obliging you, his hand snakes between your bodies, the rough pad of his middle finger sending a jolt through you as he finds your clit. Between that and the treatment of your g-spot, you're cumming in seconds, growing impossibly tighter around his length each time your muscles convulse.

His lips find yours again, hating to muffle the sounds coming out of you, but desperately needing to kiss you. "Stellina... Ti amo, Stellina. Così tanto... Ho bisogno di te nella mia vita," he cries out for you as he spills into the condom and goes limp on top of you.

You cradle his head against your chest, and for a moment, he wasn't unlike his little one sleeping in the next room, needing your affection. You kiss the top of his head, nuzzling into his messy hair, and he returns the sentiment by nibbling on your earlobe, earning a giggle from you.

With a quick peck on the cheek, he rolls off of you, heading to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth to clean you up. His aftercare is nearly as good as the lovemaking, as his lips trail behind the terry cloth, leaving a kiss wherever he wipes and soothes your skin.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" you blurt out.

"What is that, cara mia?" Copia tosses the rag aside and wraps an arm around your waist, cuddling into you.

"That... That you love me," you bite your lip, "and I think you said something about your life? I don't know Italian as well as you obviously..." you trail off.

"Mi dispiace, tesoro, I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable," he caresses your cheek, searching your eyes.

"No, no, you didn't," you tell him, also stroking his cheek.

"I just lose control of myself when I, uhhh, when mia signora makes me feel good," he smiles and taps his fingers on your collarbone, "I hope you know, cara, that I-"

"I love you, too." You stare at him like you'd just been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh, Stellina... I didn't know you would feel the same," he admits.

"Of course, I do, Papa. You're... perfect. Who wouldn't love you?"

"Well, I can think of one person," he gives a disgusted half smirk before chewing on his cheek. It wasn't lost on you all the times Copia's Prime Mover had walked out on him, but not before screaming and arguing at the top of her lungs about how much she hated him.

"Hey, hey, don't let her ruin your night. She's ruined too many of them already." You pull him closer, seeing him fight off the anger.

He looks up at you, face softening, "You're right. I'm letting her get to me, when I should be confessing my love to you," he chuckles softly, fingers walking up your arm.

"Yes, you should, Papa. Confess away," you sigh and lean in for another kiss.

"Ahhh, ti amo, principessa mia," he starts dramatically, "sei la mia vita, the very breath I breathe..." You both share a laugh at his little act. "Really, cara mia, I've loved you a long time. And it's supposed to feel wrong, but instead it just feels like... Like what it should've always been. Like you should be the one I'm with. Like you should be il mio bambino's mother."

"Copia," you whisper, tears welling up. You know he shouldn't say things like that, but admittedly it felt nice to hear it. Actually, it made your heart soar.

He pulls you in for another fierce kiss, one that's let's you know exactly how much he means it.

• • •

"Mmm, cara mia... I think I'm calling out of work today," your lover chuckles, squinting in the bright morning sun.

"What's that, old man? Four rounds and the baby crying got you worn out?" you jab at him.

"Did we go four rounds?" He looks impressed with himself.

"Did you lose count?" You both laugh, him groaning at his tired headache. As you wiggle out of bed to go get the little one ready for the day, Copia grabs your wrist.

"Let him sleep. We should too," he begs.

"Are you really calling out today? I'm sure Sister Imperator won't be happy."

"That woman is never happy. Now get your ass back in bed," he pulls you back under the covers, holding you flush against him. "Your 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘺 ass." He grabs your backside to accentuate his point, leaning in to kiss your neck.

"I thought you wanted to go back to sleep..." You bite your lip with a cheeky grin.

"Maybe we go for round five first, sì?"

• • •

"Sh, sh, shhhh... It's okay, baby boy, it's okay," you whisper into Giovanni's ear, kissing his head repeatedly to calm his tantrum.

Copia's Prime Mover had come home, which means everything is a mess. You'd had a peaceful few days navigating your newly admitted feelings for your boss, and he was settling in to a new routine of being home more for the baby. Of course it was an added bonus that he got to spend his nights with you. But now everything felt like it had been turned on its head.

"Oh, so you think you're the best Daddy in the world since spending more time at home, huh?! Look at you all high and mighty! Making me out to be horrible!" She screams at him, loud enough that you can hear every word from your spot of the balcony. The sound had been driving the baby crazy, so you brought him out here to try to drown it out. It wasn't working as he cried and cried against you.

"Someone has to be here for him! My being here for him says nothing about you. Your own absence says it all," Copia cuts back at her, but it was the truth.

"So... you do think I'm a horrible mother?" She shrinks, wrapping her arms around herself. You try not to look, but you can't help but be concerned for your Papa.

"Of course not, tesoro..." There it is. The little shred of hope he still has for the mother of his child. He steps towards her, gently rubbing his hands over her arms. "You need help. It's not your fault, but you need help. All that stuff you pump into your body isn't good for you. Please let me help."

Finally, the little boy in your arms starts to settle down. You just hoped they wouldn't start shouting again.

She really was a beautiful woman, Copia's Prime Mover. Tall, looks that kill, charming; she really had been a great match for your Papa. Of course that was before the pressure of her position got to her. You suppose you'd be upset too if you got forced into a marriage; you'd probably go off the deep end as well. Copia had his whole life to prepare for that fate; she had a few months, and so she makes herself numb, she runs as far as she can, she resents all of it, especially him.

• • •

You wake early the next morning to a light knock at your guest room door. The sun wasn't even up, so you immediately got worried something was wrong with Gio.

Flinging the door open, you're met with the sight of a broken man. "Papa? What's wrong?"

"She's gone... She left again." He wasn't even blinking, but tears streamed from his mismatched orbs.

"Oh, Copia," you pull him into a hug, supporting him as best you can.

"She said I could get her help. She was going to get help, but she ran away again." He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring off at nothing as you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

"Copia... You do everything right. You try so hard for her. And for him," you nod to the nursery, "You can only help her as much as she'll let you. If she doesn't want to change, then she won't. It's not your fault; I hope you know that it isn't your fault."

He takes your hands and nods at you. He didn't have much else to say. He'd dealt with this so many times, he was almost numb to it. Almost.

You look at the clock, seeing that it was only 4am. "Let's get some more sleep, Papa. You need to rest." You stand up to lead him back to his room, but he just sits, looking up at you like a lost dog.

"Can I stay with you, cara mia?"

The simplicity of the question cut you deep; he yearned to not be alone. He didn't want to wake up to a cold empty bed once again.

"Of course, you can."

You climb back into bed, Copia happy to spoon your body. Sitting in comfortable silence, he drifts back off, getting the deepest sleep he'd had in the days since his Prime Mover had come home.

• • •

"Knock knock!" you chirp, entering Papa's office with baby, diaper bag, and picnic basket in tow.

He looks up from something he'd been reading over, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of you, "Ahhh, to what to I owe the pleasure? It's a long trek across the Abbey just to come see me." He stands up from his desk, taking the diaper bag and picnic basket from you and setting them down.

"Da-da!!!" the little one exclaims; he was getting much better at his words.

"Oooh, piccolino, come here," he replies, scooping him up too.

"He wanted to see you," you start, "and I did too... I know you haven't been able to be home as much as you want because of work, so I thought maybe we would bring lunch to you."

Paperwork had stacked up since he was taking more time to be home; he was taking this week to just try to push through as much as he could. But he's also making a plan to hire several assistants and delegate as many of these menial tasks as he can.

"Dolcezza... That is so thoughtful of you," he cups your cheek, giving you a quick peck on the forehead. "I think I could sneak away for a little while." He gives you a wink, bouncing the baby on his hip.

"It's okay if you can't! We can eat in here too. I don't want to get you in trouble with Sister..."

"Silly girl, when are you going to learn I don't care what she thinks?" He smirks at you, returning to his office chair to sign a few more papers before heading out. Somehow him holding the baby while working made him even cuter. "Besides, technically she answers to me."

Out in the gardens, Papa plays with the child, keeping him occupied while you set up lunch. Watching the little one doddle across the grass, Papa towering over him but offering his fingers as support, warmed your heart; Copia had been trying to get him to take his first steps on his own, and he was hellbent on not missing it.

"Okay, boys, time to eat!" you call over to them.

Copia immediately scoops the child up, tossing him high in the air, watching him giggle the whole way. He does it a few more times as he makes his way over to you and the picnic blanket. "Sorella, this all looks so good. Grazie. I wish I could've been some help to you," he offers his gratitude as he sits next to you, baby in his lap.

"It's okay, Papa. We know how hard you've been working, and without you, this whole Abbey wouldn't run, so really I should thank you for making it so wonderful here."

He nods his head at you, silenced by your sweet words. "Still, grazie, cara mia."

Lunch goes by peacefully, enjoying the warm sun and the image playing out before you: Copia trying to get Giovanni to eat some cut up strawberries and the little one sputtering red mush everywhere, making a mess of himself and his father.

"You'll have to change your clothes after lunch," you giggle, taking a bite of your sandwich.

"Mm, what a shame... Won't he be taking a nap then?" Your Papa gives you a smug look.

You blush at his implication and look around to make sure no one could hear. "Papa..."

"Oh, don't be so coy, Sorella. You certainly weren't shy when you went down-"

"Papa!! Hush!" you whisper yell at him, hiding your face in your hands.

He waits for you to peek through your fingers at him, and you both burst out in laughter.

• • •

What was supposed to be a quick stop back in his suite of course turned into a heated make out session on the kitchen counter.

"Cazzo, Stellina, I would take you on the fucking dinner table right now if I could," he grunts, biting at your bottom lip.

"Hmm, guess you'll just have to daydream about it in your office, huh?" You tease him.

"I'll have you there, too, if I have anything to do with it." His hands pull harshly at your hair, smashing his face against yours again. Your tongues dance with one another as your fists crumple the fresh shirt he'd put on.

When you can no longer wait for air, you push yourself off of him, breathing heavy. "You're gonna have to fix your paint, you know that?" you chuckle.

"I can see that," he wipes some gray from your lip to show you.

You both fall into giggles again, staring into each other's eyes as you reluctantly release one another to return back to your duties.

• • •

"Mm, we've probably got a few minutes before little Gio wakes up, right?" Copia grumbles into your cleavage.

You swear this man will be the death of you. He finally gets a day off, to sleep in if he wants, and the first things on his mind this morning is pounding you into the mattress... Again. Like he didn't do that all last night.

"All you ever think about is sex," you chuckle, kissing the top of his head.

"When it's as good as you are, amore mio, sì. I think about it morning, noon, and night," he starts pressing kisses across your chest, grinding his growing hardness against your thigh.

"Copia-" you start, hearing a couple thuds down the hallway, "What is that? Do you hear that?"

Seconds later, a loud shriek comes from the baby's room. In an instant you're both jumping up to throw on some clothes.

Copia slips on some pants before bolting out of his room with you hot on his trail, tying on his robe. In the hallway, you're both confronted with Copia's Prime Mover with Giovanni on her hip and diaper bag slung over her shoulder.

"What are you doing?!" The man steps right in front of her to stop her from shoving further down the hallway.

"I'm taking him and we're going!! You've got some new life now, so we're gonna move on too!" She is clearly out of her mind, her eyes bloodshot like she hasn't slept in days and bruises all up her forearms.

"What are you talking about??" Copia attempts to grab the child from her, but she snatches him away, which only eggs on his crying.

"Oh, please! You think I don't know you're fucking the nanny?! I saw the condoms in the trash last time I was here, and now she's in your robe!"

Tears of anger build up in his eyes as he turns to look at you; he felt totally helpless.

It gives his Prime Mover just enough time to push past him and into the living area. "You just want to put me away so you can move on to your new life with your newer, younger little whore!"

"Do not talk about her! She cares for your child more than you do!! While you're out on the streets strung out, she's here, doing the job you took vows to do!" he shouts to defend you.

"That was before I knew you ran a cult! All of this is just some facade to make you famous! You're a selfish bastard, leading the blind just so you won't be lonely like when you were a kid," her words cut deep.

Copia clenches both fists, a fire you'd never seen in his eyes before, as he very evenly doles out, "Give me back my child and get the fuck out."

As if on cue, the little one reaches out for you, face red as tears stream down his face, "Mama! Mamaaa!!"

You step closer to her, wanting to reach out for the squirming little bundle in her arm.

"So you think you're his mama now?" she cuts her eyes at you.

"No, I- I tried to teach him... I would never," you stammer, not knowing what to do, "Please. Please just give him to me."

"What? Let you have my husband and my baby? I think not, bitch." She moves towards the door, but you move with her, body acting on pure adrenaline now. The child reaches out, little hands latching onto your robe, and you wrap your arms around him to slip him away from her, but her fingers lock tightly around his thigh, making him shriek once again.

"Please. Please don't hurt him!! Don't hurt him!" You raise your voice at her, holding the baby tight to your chest.

The next thing you know, Copia is letting Aether and a couple other ghouls in the room, and they swiftly pounce on her, pulling her away from you and the baby you care so much about. You look down to see that his little leg was already bruising from where she'd grabbed and twisted at his skin.

You held him tightly, bouncing him around and humming something to drown it all out as Copia and the ghouls dragged her out into the hallway. The antipope was absolutely seething, and you didn't care to know what he was screaming at her.

Looking out to the sunny balcony, you feel the urge to walk out there. Honestly it was probably to soothe you as much as it was for the screaming one in your arms. Before you can move a muscle, your lover bursts back into the room, making a beeline for you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you and Gio, resting his chin on top of your head. Fighting back tears, he holds you like that for a while.

Finally comes a soft, "I am so sorry, cara."

Pulling away just enough to look up at him, you reassure him, "It's not your fault. Are you okay?"

"I will be. Please tell me she didn't hurt you," he brushes his fingers through your hair.

"No, she didn't, but we may need to have this looked at," you motion to his son's bruised leg.

A series of emotions flash across Copia's face upon seeing the injury. Part of him blames himself for ever letting that woman get close to either of you. But he also knew that without her, he wouldn't have either of you in his life.

"Well, she's not coming back. I won't let her hurt anyone here ever again. She needs help but I can't keep letting her come back, not when I have a son who needs safety and stability."

• • •

Months went by, and it felt like a whole new chapter for all of you. Copia officially separated from his Prime Mover, announcing it at Black Mass; he always felt transparency was important in his congregation. You had moved into his room permanently, and Copia had even hired another nanny to give you a break from time to time. He didn't want you feeling like caring for his son was the only thing you were good for. He also hired assistants for his office, Siblings of Sin who were honored to take some weight off their Papa's shoulders.

Now that the two of you had less worries, you almost didn't know how to fill your time. Almost...

"Your sidekick has Giovanni out in the gardens... What do you say we have our own playtime, eh?" Copia chuckles next to your ear as you recline back against his chest on the sofa.

"Do not call her my sidekick," you laugh at your lover, "She does just as much work as me, she deserves more credit than that."

"I don't know, dolcezza... She doesn't spend the night like you do."

"Oh, and look how much trouble that got us in," you smirk, turning to catch him in a kiss. "You're not going to start sleeping with the new nanny again, are you?"

"No, no, no, no, amore mio," he whispers right in your ear, "Il mio cazzo belongs to you alone."

You huff out a laugh, "That's all? Just your 𝘤𝘢𝘻𝘻𝘰?"

"Well, perhaps il mio cuore, too..."

"Perhaps, huh?" you tease him, turning to get on your knees in between his legs. Leaning forward, you give him a single chaste kiss. "Don't I deserve a little more than 'perhaps'?" You sit back on your heels, unbuttoning your shirt slowly.

"Dolcezza..." Copia pants, already excited just from seeing your lacy bra.

"Ah, ah, ahhh. Don't 'dolcezza' me," you wink at him.

"Please-" he whines in a way that was a little unbecoming of a Papa.

Your shirt drifts slowly to the floor, and Copia reaches out to touch you, but you swat his hands away. "I don't know, Papa. Maybe I don't mean enough to you. Maybe I should just go take care of the throbbing between my legs all by myself, huh? Make you sit out here and listen while I cry out, making a mess of myself..."

He feels his cock twitch at the thought of you touching yourself in his bed.

"Stellina, please, you know I love you so..." His eyes roam your body hungrily.

"How do I know you mean it, Papa? That you aren't just saying that? For all I know, you tell the other nanny that all the time..." You grin at him, leaning forward and propping yourself up on your knees. With your elbows propped on his shoulders, he has a nice view of your cleavage spilling out of your bra just the way he likes.

"No one else is worthy of those words, no one else is worthy of these feelings I have for you." His arm snakes around you, hand resting on the small of your back. "Let me show you, cara mia. Let me prove how much I love you. Only you."

You bite your lip. It felt good to make a powerful man like him crumble, to have him rock hard without even touching him. Your little teasing game is fun, but you know his words are serious.

"Take me, Papa. Make me all yours. Prove I'm the only one for you."

With that, he wraps his arms around your thighs, carrying you right to his bedroom and kicking the door closed loudly. Your back hits the bed and your torso is met by his hot mouth tracing all your curves. Impatiently, he pulls at your tight pencil skirt, needing to feel more of your skin.

Reaching down, you undo the zipper on your hip, "There." Another wink.

The skirt finds its place in the corner of the room as Copia kisses at the top of your panties. "Mia dea... ti amo con tutto quello che ho. Sei la mia dea."

A blush tints your cheeks, you'd learned a bit more Italian in the last few months.

"Worship me, then."

He looks up to meet your commanding eyes, freezing for a brief moment before working his own shirt to the floor and positioning himself between your sinful thighs. Kissing at the supple skin there, he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. Hungrily, his fingers grab at your skin until they hook into the lace at your hip. A tearing sound rings out and you feel his breath on your core.

"Hey! I liked those!" you whine.

"I'll buy you another pair, principessa," he looks up at you through his eyelashes while placing a sloppy kiss right to your clit. You can't help but buck up into his mouth at the sensation.

He grips your hips firmly to hold you in place. You had taunted the beast and now you would reap what you sowed. His mouth latches onto you, sucking on your already swollen clit. The feeling is so intense, you instinctively try to push him off you, but he is having none of it.

"Oh!! Papa!" you cry out, one hand tangling in his hair and the other gripping his satin sheets.

He offers you some reprieve by backing off of your bundle of nerves and instead opting to flatten his tongue against you, licking a stripe. His tongue then traces your folds before teasing your entrance, threatening to push inside. And he does just that. Eyes rolling back in his head as he stretches you with his tongue.

It has you mewling his name and arching as much as his grip will let you. When his nose makes contact with your clit, your hand in his hair tightens as you practically fuck yourself on his face.

His lips move back up to suck on your clit again, and you whimper at the loss of his tongue, but it is quickly replaced by two fingers curling deep inside you, as deep as he can reach. 𝘎𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. Devious eyes watch your face as he curls his digits, scratching that spot that he finds so well.

"Papa- damnit! Satanas, Papa, I'm gonna cum," you warn him, but he's ready for it, only sucking harder at your words. You let out a needy moan as your body shudders around his fingers, juices coating his hand and chin. He doesn't stop until you're done riding out the wave of your orgasm.

Unexpectedly, he snatches you up in a kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on him. "Do you taste that, amore? You on my mouth. There will never be another, you are the only one, I could never want for anyone else." He has your head reeling; he's never been so possessive, and it's hot.

Pulling him down, you both fall back on the plush bed together. His fingers lace with yours and his erection presses against your thigh, still trapped in those unholy tight jeans. Wanting to offer him some relief, you tease your fingers over the large bulge, cupping at it and earning a groan from the man. Clearly, he was in need of some attention, so you pop open the button and slide the zipper down, taking his girth in your hand.

"Cazzo, baby, I need you," his eyebrows knit together as he begs for you.

"Then, take me, Papa," you wink at him, "No need to keep me waiting!"

He chuckles and gives you one more kiss before kicking off his jeans. "This needs to go," he snakes a hand behind your back to unhook your bra, banishing it to the corner with your skirt. His mouth gently teases your nipples as he stretches for the bedside drawer, fumbling for a condom.

Suddenly, he sits up, looking a little frantically at the empty box in the drawer. "Fuck!" He groans, head falling in his hands, "I forgot to send Aether for more..."

"Oooh so that's who does your dirty work, huh?" You tease, sitting up next to him, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It's okay, ya know... Maybe we don't need one."

He gives you a confused look.

"Maybe... maybe it's about time for little Gio to be a big brother, hm?"

His eyes widen, eyebrows raised drastically. He dips his head slightly, reading your face for any sign that this was a joke. "A-are you... Are you s-sure, amore?"

You love those funny little moments when the stuttering Cardinal jumps back out of him again. "Yes," you chew on your bottom lip, cupping his cheek, "I'm sure. Let's have a baby."

For a brief moment, it looked like his brain was short-circuiting. "O-okay," he nods his head, eyebrows softening and a big smile spreading across his face. "You're really sure, Stellina?" He takes his face in your hands, looking all sappy, "You want to have miei bambini?"

"Sì," you nod at his little switch to Italian, kissing him on the nose, "Now are we gonna get all lovey dovey about it, or are you gonna get me pregnant?" Your fingers tease at his erection, still standing proudly.

"Mmm, maybe a little of both, sì?" His lips catch yours again, and the weight of his body pushes your back down onto the bed. You spread your legs for him to get between them, but he simply shakes his head, flipping you over instead. When you look over your shoulder at him, feigning a snooty look, he chuckles deeply before growling in your ear, "You intend to be bred, do you not, Sorella?"

His words make your stomach do flips, and you clench your thighs together at the thought.

Now with you flat on your stomach, Copia's strong hands works the muscles in your back, slowly massaging up from the small of your back to your shoulder blades. "I need you nice and relaxed, principessa." His fingers lace into the base of your hair, tugging your head up to look at him, "You want it to take, sì?"

"Yes, Papa. I do," you moan for him.

"Bene..." He shoves your head back down in the pillows and lands a sharp 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘬! on your ass, earning a squeal from you. After he smoothes over the red mark, he lets his hand dip between your thighs. His fingers moving over your folds at this angle feel impeccable.

You push your ass up in the air, trying to get more friction from him, not even understanding how he could be so patient right now. But as if reading your mind, you feel his warm thighs straddle yours and his tip line up with you.

"To feel you so fully and completely, amore mio... I know this will be spectacular," he praises you, pushing forward with a needy groan.

It does feel a little different than what you'd grown used to, hearing a little pop as the tip pushes through your entrance. Things feel somehow smoother than before, maybe from the lack of protection, but maybe you were just that wet. You take him all the way to the hilt, whimpering and moaning into the pillow.

He sets a devilish pace pretty quickly, barely giving you time to get used to the stretch. The discomfort quickly wanes, and you feel your lover's breath hot on your back as he fucks into you in earnest, losing himself in feeling your wet heat unshielded. He leans down to press a few kisses and small bite to your shoulder before he throws his head back, really picking up the pace.

Your hands reach back gripping at his thighs mostly, as your makeup smears across his satin pillowcases.

"Cara... I need- more," he grunts, a small warning before he sits himself up, dragging your hips up off the bed and slams back into you.

"Ah!!!" you scream at the sudden movement, trying to stabilize yourself on your hands and knees. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the air alongside your noises of pleasure.

One of Copia's hands leaves your hips to ponytail your hair, pulling harshly to urge you back on his girth with more force.

"Papaaa!" is the only thing you can manage, hardly able to form a thought at this point.

"Mia dolce dea, I'm going to fill you with my seed. I'll make you grow round with my child," he tells you between thrusts, "it will be... 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘢, 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘢..."

"Copia, please... Please, touch me, Papa," you cry for him.

Using the grip he maintained on your hair, he heaves you up so you're standing on your knees, back flush against his chest, "You think I would leave mia principessa untouched? What kind of Papa do you think I am?"

Finally releasing your hair, the rough pads of his fingers toy with your nipples. He can't wait until your breasts swell too... Holding you stable with one arm, the other searches for your clit, finding it in expert time. As his finger starts to circle it, you arch your hips back, also aiding him in finding that perfect spot inside you, "Oh! Oh, Satanas Papa! Right 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦- 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱!"

Always a good listener, he does exactly as he's told, holding his pace, snapping up into your heat the exact same way every time. You feel your orgasm rapidly approaching under his ministrations.

"Vieni per me, amore, per favore, vieni per me. I'm cumming- cum with me," he loses himself in the feeling of you. And when you feel an unfamiliar warmth spread deep inside you, it sends you right over the edge with him.

Your lover struggles to hold you close to him as you double over, riding out your release. His hips continue to buck into you in shallow thrusts through his orgasm.

Finally, he sits back on his heels, pulling you with him, cock still stuffed inside you. He throws his head back and rakes his hands through his hair, jaw hung open as he catches his breath. "You are perfetto, amore mio. You know this?" He wraps his arms around you, hugging your torso.

"I'm far from it, Copia." You lean back against him, resting your head against his jaw.

"No, no, no. I will show you how perfect you are. Even if it takes our whole lives, you will know how much you mean to me." He kisses the top of your head, chest still heaving.

"Papa..." you turn, giving him a quick, sloppy kiss, "I love you."

"Anch'io ti amo, cara mia, ti amo così tanto."

#tumblr is still making the gifs small 🙄 #also hi im back from the grave #nah i just been busy with school #plus it takes some time to get these bad boys written #love you all #hope you love the fic 💝 #the band ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus iv #copia #papa iv #papa 4 #papa emeritus 4 #prime mover #x reader #reader insert #nanny fic #imagine #oneshot #fanfic

[willowser]

i think that childhood best friends to lovers with kiri would actually be — an incredibly sad journey LOL

you're perfect in his eyes. quirkless, exactly as you're meant to be, with the potential to do anything. everything. the world is at your feet and he knows you'll go after it — it's him that falls flat, that can't follow in your footsteps. his quirk isn't anything special, nothing manly, and it won't make him a hero like his heroes. instead he's just in this odd, empty space in between. floating.

you accepting him that way — i think it would mean everything to him.

neither of you really know what to expect, when he goes off to ua. of course you're excited for him; even if his hair is new and he seems a little different, you can feel the build of confidence in him, the motivation he has to try, and that means more to you than the distance ever could. of all things, you want kiri to be happy, even if your friendship takes a backseat to bigger, better things.

days turn to weeks turn to months and the calls become less frequent. the first time he comes home in a while — maybe half a year — he brings his new friends and they're...incredible. strong and powerful and full of life, full of excitement, spontaneous and fun. the kind of people that become heroes. the kind of people kiri needs around him.

you don't think he means to be so distant; what little time the two of you get together is the same as it always is. cheesy movies and multi-player RPG's until the late, late hours of the night. pizza and energy drinks and jokes that are still as funny as they were when you were six. he sleeps on the couch instead of your bed now and doesn't sit as close as he used to, doesn't take his shirt off just because anymore — but you don't mind. you try not to. you try not to care about how much he sweats when you stare at him, or how red the back of his neck gets, or how it seems like he can't look you in the eye anymore.

you don't think he means it, and so you can't be angry at him. angry, no, hurt though...that's a little harder. because everything seems the same with him; it's not like he's upset with you or even wanting to leave you behind. he always apologizes for not keeping up, genuinely, looking like a sad little puppy even though you for forgive him, easily. you're not sure what has changed exactly, you're only sure that everything has.

kirishima's able to go pro very quickly, has a spot secured even before he's graduated. by the time he was sixteen, he'd already been in the news a handful of times, celebrated for the incredible hero he's always been capable of being, and the public loves him by the time he's eighteen. while he's out saving lives and making an impact on the entirety of japan, you're studying or trying to find a new date to the summer festival, because you know he won't be able to go. he doesn't make your graduation — and sounds really sorry about it, when he calls a few weeks after — and you get petty enough that you don't go to his either.

it's stupid, and you feel bad, but kirishima doesn't even notice.

a long time goes by, before you see each other again. all the attempts he makes to meet up with you are fruitless; either he can't make it or you don't want to try, too tired and embarrassed after being stood up time and time again. his apologies become redundant, and even if you know he means them, it doesn't make them any easier to hear.

naturally, you see him again at the worst moment: coming out of the gym, sweaty, without makeup and fighting off a painful zit on your chin. he's with his bestie — bakugou, who is even more terrifying at twenty-four than he was at fifteen — and kiri has his hair up in a cute half man-bun and it's longer than you remember and he's bigger than you remember and in a shirt that should hardly count as a shirt.

and he's overjoyed to see you.

"oh my god!" he laughs, smacking a hand to his forehead as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, trying to tuck your face down in the most nonchalant way.

it's the wrong move, because you don't see him step in to hug you.

"kirishima!" you squeal, trying to jerk away as you feel his cheek press against your damp hairline. you feel gross, even worse when you see the face bakugou makes. "quit it!"

"sorry! i just can't believe—" and when he sees the look on your face, the happiness on his drops, replaced by something like humiliation as he glances between you and his friend.

there's something terrible about the slow end of a friendship, and you can see it manifest in his expression. how much of a stranger the two of you have become over time, due to neglect, and it seems like all the ugly feelings are soaked up by him like a sponge.

you don't even know what to say. you don't even know if there's anything to say—no, no, that's not true; there are a million and one things to say, but you just don't know where to begin.

#kirishima drabble #this has been in my drafts for literally so long LOL #he doesn't even realize 🥺 he's just been so busy 🥺 #in his mind he's getting better for you #becoming the kind of man that you deserve #and in your mind he's left you far far behind 🥺 #woof can you imagine seeing him after a few years into his hero career and he's somehow bulked up even more and he's headed to the gym #scheduled #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: kirishima

[sweetfire01]

I had to split also this part because it was too long lol. Daddy!Howl at the beggining, but then just a loong chat with Calcifer that you won't like. 👀

No nest yet, but there will be I hope in the next part.

Baby dove pt.2 (Daddy!Howl)

You didn't know when you fell asleep. And you were still half asleep when Howl woke you up. He held a steaming bowl of beef and carrot stew in one hand and a spoon in the other. He smiled lovingly at you. "Earlier I came to call you for dinner but you were sleeping soundly, so I let you rest. But we can't leave you hungry all night, can we?" He gave your tummy a quick tickle which made you giggle involuntarily as you sat up. He also sat on a stool next to the bed, facing you. He used the spoon to mix the bowl thoroughly, taking it out with little bits of meat on top. He blew on it to cool it down, before bringing it to your lips. "Here, open wide." And so you did, opening your mouth and allowing him to feed you. The fact that you actually opened your mouth to protest didn't matter. "Good little bird. Oh, wait." Some broth dripped down your chin and he promptly pulled a napkin from his pocket to clean it. Cleaning your face was something he did daily at the table. You hated it. You never had time to grab your napkin before you could already feel his rubbing against the corner of your mouth. God, Markl occasionally managed to get the tip of his nose dirty while eating, but the bastard never said anything to him and h could clean himself, even using the sleeve of his shirt. Then once you tried to do the same but that asshole stopped you, warning you that you would get your clothes dirty. Of course, the next moment his napkin was rubbing your cheek.

You continued to accept, this time for real, the morsels he gave you until the bowl was completely empty. You were tired again at this point and laid back down as he tucked you in. Not without obviously cleaning your face first, again. In a way, you were really hoping that Howl would get mad at you for running away from home. Maybe he was lenient in the evening because he saw you overwhelmed and tired, so he wanted to postpone the scolding until the next day. It wasn't as if you wanted a scolding or punishment, you would just feel even more degraded and infantilized. But his nonchalance made it seem as if it wasn't a bother looking for you around the city. As if it was a simple walk you took together. But in the morning, he woke you up gently as always, asking if you had a good night. No reference to what happened, just a mockery when you realized you were wearing pajamas: you hadn't changed before falling asleep, so he took care of it when he came up to call you for dinner, even tucking you under the blankets. "Did the walk exhaust you that much?" he joked, to which you simply shrugged. Too embarrassed to think about him undressing you and how you stayed asleep. But that was all. Neither Markl nor Calcifer asked you any questions. And so the day, like the day after, went on normally. Do some household chores, help mix potions, give wood to Calcifer. And Howl was his usual self, taking care of you lovingly, helping you get dressed even though you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself or wiping your face with that damn napkin even if you were sure it was already clean. Maybe it was the lack of punishment that pushed you to wait for the right opportunity to try again. On the third day after that attempt, you headed down the stairs, determined to make it this time. At this moment Markl was out, Howl was finally out, since he had never left the castle again, probably to keep an eye on you.

From the fireplace Calcifer watched you curiously. "What are you doing?" You approached the door: the arrow pointed to black, which worked in your favor. When the wizard went to that door, he wouldn't return before dinner. You managed to have many hours of advantage this time too. You had to make good use of them. "Just…going to get some air. I promise I'll be right back." you answered the demon vaguely, rotating the dial so that the arrow was now pointing to blue. Kingsbury was out of the question now, and even going out on the Waste was a bad idea on all fronts: you'd have to jump from a moving castle, hoping it wasn't on the edge of a cliff at the moment, wander around for who-knows-how-much and for who-knows-where and pray not to meet the Witch. Porthaven was the safest choice. You could sail on a boat and left the city right away, and besides, with the clothes you were wearing, it would have been easier to blend in with the locals. This time you had to a white collared sweater, tucked into a pair of high-waisted brown trousers. You had to admit that overall they were comfortable and the sweater kept you warm, although the red bow tied on the collar and the matching hat you saw for sure in the closet made it look more like a children's school uniform. It was the only thing you argued about with Howl that morning. Of course your protest was ignored as that asshole finished tying it up and commented on how stylish you looked. And adorable. At least now you didn't have to worry about things like that anymore. You would have succeeded for sure. You grabbed the handle and turned it. The door didn't move. You tried again. No matter how much you tried to pull, it stayed put, as if someone had locked it. Which wasn't possible, because Markl was the last one out and never blocked it. Hell, probably it doesn't even exist a key. "Um, you can't do that." Calcifer explained to you, visibly embarrassed "Howl told me not to let you out of here." He grabbed a wooden log, avoiding your gaze "He doesn't want you to go out alone…like last time. You know, in case you get lost or worse, see the Witch again…" "WHAT?" You screamed so loudly that the demon hid in fear under a pile of ash. You approached the fireplace menacingly "It makes no sense! The Witch can't come to Porthaven! I'll be safe! I want to go out! NOW!" Calcifer stuck his head out "I'm really sorry, but you know I can't disobey his orders! You have to ask him if-eek!" You kicked the chair near the fireplace, knocking it over. That bastard Howl! That filthy bastard Howl! Who did he think he was, keeping you locked up here? Exhaling loudly, you pushed the chair back up, before collapsing into it and closing your eyes. What could you do? The windows probably wouldn't have opened either and using the small balcony upstairs wouldn't be a good idea, unless you wanted to jump down from about twenty metres. No, the only escape was through that door. Maybe you could wait until Markl reopen it when he return, then jump out and run. You felt bad at the thought of having to use force against a kid. And you felt even worse when you wondered if Calcifer's magic was limited just to shut doors and windows. If Howl told him not to let you out, you probably won't succeed anyway… A faint clatter brought you out of your thoughts. The demon had reached out to place a cup next to you, retreating soon after. He was probably afraid of another outburst of anger. "It's warm milk. You should drink it, the cup is not so hot." You accepted it gratefully, sipping the white, creamy liquid inside. It left a sweet aftertaste, maybe honey had been added. Relaxing. "This is the first time you've cooked of your own." You joked "Actually, how did you manage to prepare it? Do you have your own personal pantry under all that ash or what?" "Ah! My personal pantry! It would be a dream, always full of wooden logs and bacon." His flames grew redder as he rambled on about how he would like to eat a slice of bacon, it had been weeks since the last time.

But something didn't convince you. "Calcifer. How did you make the milk?" This made him agitated. "Oh, well, it's easy, I've been keeping him here next to me and warming him up, all this time. You know, I'm a fire demon, for me something like this is child's play, ahaha." "Calcifer!" "Howl did it! Don't blame me, I only follow orders!" And with that he lowered himself to his eyes under the embers. "What did he tell you? To give it to me if I thought about killing him?" You gripped the cup in your hand "No…in case you threw a tantrum." The cup broke into pieces when you threw it at him. The milk spilled into the fireplace as he moved around trying not to get wet "Hey, hey, I told you not to blame me!" He took refuge on top of the other pieces of log, which fortunately were dry. He looked at you irritated "I have to do what he orders me, if you don't like something talk to him. What's up with me?" "You thought I was a child who threw a tantrum!" "No! I just saw you stressed and thought it was a good time." His flames flickered quickly "Listen, he's never acted so… overprotective, not even with Markl. I don't know what's gotten into him and I know you want to run away, but try to hold on and not get into trouble, okay? it will pass sooner or later." "Hopefully sooner than later." you huffed, going to grab a rag to clean up the milk that was dripping down the fireplace. It already dried near the embers and the demon returned to its place. You tossed the rag aside and slumped into your chair once more. Calcifer stared at you silently, chewing on a couple of broken pieces of the cup. “How long do you think it will take?” you asked after a couple of minutes. “I'm going crazy and I've only been here a week.” "It's hard to say. Honestly, I don't know what he found so interesting about you but, with all the precautions he's taking, I don't think he'll let you go any day now." “And you won't let me go either, right?” "Stop accusing me!" the flames turned bright red again "I'm tied to him, I can't do anything about it. If it were up to me, I would have kicked all 3 of you out of here!" He ate another piece of pottery, this one longer and thinner. It had to be the handle. You fiddled with the bracelet, rotating it around your wrist. This is also a gift from the Wizard. It was enchanted to protect you from the Witch, he told you so as he tied it. A simple silver band set with small gems. You didn't know how it was supposed to work, but you were sure it would. If that crazy man feared so much for your safety, he certainly wouldn't have let you get into such great danger. And the way he reassured you that first night, while you were crying on his chest after the nightmare, sounded quite sincere. Calcifer finished eating all the shards and calmed down "Anyway, even if I let you out, Howl would find you and bring you back here. Haven't you learned your lesson?" “I was just lost!” you defended yourself "That's why I chose Porthaven this time, it's smaller and I would have been able to leave for sure." But he just shook his head. "You're forgetting that he's a Wizard. Haven't you figured it out yet? He found you because he already knew where you were. You could even board a boat and sail across the North Sea, he'd know perfectly well. Trust me, from the moment you leave that door, you lost." A shiver ran down your spine. You weren't sure if you would like what you were about to know. "So he…"

“As soon as you closed the door he came out of the bathroom and came down laughing.” Calcifer took on a more yellow hue and stretched upwards. His voice tried to take on a deeper tone, a funny imitation of Howl. "Eh, it seems my little dove didn't want to wait for me. I better not let them out of my sight." The demon (Calcifer) then returned to his original form. "And after that he left. When you returned, I thought he had accompanied you around the city, since you were out all that time. But before he went to sleep, he told me that he simply followed you from above as you wandered around. And then he charmed the door, telling me not to let you out." You felt a knot in your stomach during the story. You weren't liking what you were knowing. "But…but how does he do it? I mean…he's a wizard, not a seer! How does he know where I am?" Calcifer pointed to your hand "Try taking it off." "Huh?" "The bracelet. Try taking it off." You stared at it. You already tried to take it off once: you wanted to take a bath but you feared damaging it. Howl simply told you that it was enchanted and the silver wouldn't be ruined by water. You hadn't thought about it since then. You probably should have. You were sure there had been a box clasp when he had you put it on, but now you couldn't see any. The only solution was to take it off, but the band was wrapped tightly against your skin. You could move it around your wrist, but not let it go past your hand. It wasn't enchanted just to protect you from the Witch, was it? "There's a tracking spell. Plus something else to keep you from taking it away" he explained. "Oh, along with a protection one, of course." He added as if it was supposed to reassure you, but it didn't.

It was more than just a bracelet.

It was a chain. A chain that tied you to him. And that you couldn't get rid of. You started crying and sobbing.

#howls moving castle #daddy howl #age regression #forced age regression