#the first time i listened to the end of the dream is quickly became one of my most favorite songs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wongyuuu · 3 months

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midnight rain | lsm

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

Letter #1

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was trauma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just…"

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

Letter #2

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

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

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

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

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

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

He had no idea.

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

"What? You’re leaving today?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #3

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you recommend?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

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

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

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your question?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #5

Seokmin

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

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

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

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

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

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

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

What am I still doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never quite managed to do that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To hell with his plan.

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

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

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

“Seokmin, I…”

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled over your skin.

“At least this hasn’t changed”

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

“Where’s your room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seokmin... harder"

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #6

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me give you a ride”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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ginkgo-phyta · 2 months

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Hotch would definitely give you the princess treatment, and you know what? Jack would too, after seeing his father he knows how to treat a girl right. And the team would definitely tease Hotch, because his son is going to steal his partner from him :)

omg no LITERALLYYY tho like just like omfg alright i got carried away with this and its not even really what you're talking about but listen to me okay LISTENNNNN

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH AARON HOTCHNER AND ITS INFLUENCE ON HIS SON JACK gn!reader, FLUFF, no warnings(?) another informal blurb typa format :P

you and hotch decide together you'd like to date for a while first, take things slower and fully solidify and strengthen your relationship, before you become a part of jack's life. you didn't want jack to get attached to you or write you off too quickly in case life took you in different directions. you didn't know it at the time, but hotch introduced you to jack when he was sure he was going to marry you some day- and soon. he had been so incredibly head over heels in love with you and once you and jack got close, the little guy really got to witness how highly his father regarded you- and just how he showed you it every day. even in the little things. from the way hotch pulled out your chair, held all doors open for you, always kept your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up in the fridge and pantry, never let you open your own car door, the way he made spaces for you in his bathroom and closet without even being asked, and how he always stuck to your weekly dinner date- whether in person or over the phone. to the way his father would look at you, listen intently to whatever you were talking or ranting about, how he'd cup your hands and press quick kisses to them or move any bothersome strands of hair from your face when you'd eat, and how enthusiastic he always was when you and jack would spend time together.

jack was a bit hesitant with you at first, he was a bit older at that point and the quickness with which beth had left his life had admittedly stung him, leaving an ever-present welt behind. but he warmed up to you, appreciative of the way you welcomed him with open arms, never pressured him to spend time with or even like you (letting him accept you at his own pace) and how you clearly were not trying to take the place of his late mother- even many, many years into your relationship with his father. what he loved the most was how you always encouraged hotch to recount stories of haley, put pictures of her in jack's room or wherever else he wanted them, and how you would remind him: "your mother would be so proud of you jack." you would watch old home videos of their old family and jack never failed to notice how you wouldn't ever feel negatively about it. that was really what won him over. he also loved how open you were with both him and his dad- every day you'd say "i love you!" both casually and purposefully. it instilled in the young boy the importance of expressing appreciation, love, and care for others.

before you, hotch was always a just bit emotionally closed off. even when it came to jack he liked to keep himself a bit more reserved. he tried to stay a strong and unwavering inspiration, only wanting to show his son his best face. but once you came into their lives you inspired hotch to open up more than he had the last few years after haley's passing, inspired him to embrace even the "uglier" emotions he felt in life: grief, anger, sadness, and tiredness. it ended up passing onto jack in small ways, allowing him to feel even closer to dad. you became a huge structural post in jack's life. your love for one other inspired him, as he grew up he dreamed of one day having a relationship like yours. he looked forward to being able to treat his significant other the way his father cares for you.

you loved jack as if he was your own, though you never wanted to say that to him for fear of overstepping your role. aaron would always assure you, especially as jack grew older, that his boy felt it. you watched him go from a playful child, to a moody teenager, to a budding adult eager to make his mark on the world. and you were there supporting him the whole way.

you'll spend a lifetime with the both of them and although there will be many funny, loving, or frustrating moments you'll hold in a special place in your mind, there's one memory from when he was still a youngin that you love the most. it was a surprise dinner party at your fancy restaurant, aaron had booked the whole place just for you and the guests to celebrate your engagement and he had enlisted jack's help to plan the whole thing. jack, the bau team, and your friends and family were all there to shower you in love. the most memorable part of the night was the moment everyone sat down for dinner, all around a giant table (possibly multiple tables pushed together). as everyone moved to take their place jack ran so eagerly in front of you to pull your chair out before his father got the chance. you were shocked for a second before bursting out in a melodious laugh- it was so unexpected but you were incredibly moved. "oh, jack, thank you!" your loving, excited, and genuinely appreciative tone made jack's already huge grin grow even wider and more endearing. everyone else had noticed this too and laughed in joy along with you. "oh my god!" "that was so freakin cute" "he did not just do that!" rang out around you. of course aaron noticed, standing in silence for a second, a similar smile mirrored on his face, before he shook his head with a chuckle. as you took you seat, jack made sure to push your chair in just before you sat down fully, diligently executing what he'd studied his father do hundreds of times before. you turned to thank him, but before you could even open your mouth jack moved to take your cloth napkin from the table, shake it open, and carefully place it in your lap. awwws flooded in from all sides of the table

"oh you are just so adorable jack, thank you so much." you said as you pinched his still slightly chubby cheek "you are just the kindest, sir." you playful tone cause jacks entire face to blush and he shyly walked over to take a seat next to you.

"what? you take my job, and now you don't even want to sit next to me?" hotch spoke up from you other side. jack knew his father was joking, but he still bashfully giggled, sinking a bit more into his seat

"you better be careful, hotch," derek spoke up from across the table, motioning to his former boss with a breadstick, "looks like you got some competition there."

everyone broke out into more laughter, especially aaron. in the midst of the hysterics, the once-stoic man's hand crept into your lap to hold your own, thumbing over the back of your hand and the beautiful engagement ring wrapped around your finger. you shared a glance while you both laughed before you looked over to jack. wordlessly, your hand suddenly hopped up to ruffle up the little boy's hair, causing him to scrunch up his nose and giggle even more.

but you didn't have to say anything, your eyes held the truth. love. jack continued to look up at you, feelings of warmth, joy, and safety draped over him like a fuzzy throw, covering him from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes. he knew that with you in his life now, besides him and his father, everything would be okay.

A/N: SCREAMING how was this anon? sorry i didn't delve into the team teasing hotch more bc these thoughts were swimming in my head and i NEEDED to get them down perhaps i could do another post of just teasing quotes if that's something you'd like! i got a few ideas swimmin already teehee i hope you enjoyed my love!!

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader

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luvhu9hes · 2 months

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Part of Me QH43

You had been in love with your best Friends brother for as long as you could remember. So much so he was a part of you.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI, oral (f receiving), not proofread, I think that's all of it please lmk if there's anything else.

This is only my second fic i've actually posted, if you like it please let me know. Also this is kind of rushed at the end, but I'd be stressing about this for over a week so hopefully i've done it some justice. Anyways I love all of you who take the time to read my work! Go Canucks and all that jazz.

Summer was quickly approaching in Ann Arbor Michigan, and you were all but prepared for your trip to the lake house this summer. Every summer for as long as you could remember was spent at your best friend Luke’s family lake house. Your mom and Ellen Hughes (his mother) had met their sophomore year in college from playing on the women’s hockey team together. Their friendship had continued over the years and became even stronger when they became pregnant around the same time having you and Luke only a week apart from each other (him being the older of you two).

You and Luke were destined to be best friends, practically inseparable. Always going to the same schools, hanging out daily, becoming part of each other's families. Growing up with Luke meant growing up with his older brothers; Jack and Quinn as well. Jack was like an older brother to you, always being so protective over you. Even back when you were in elementary school, Luke’s other friends would tease you about being a girl and having cooties. After Jack had threatened them, they never bothered you again. Quinn was a different story, you had always had a little crush on him, (you’d never admit that to Luke, but it was true). Even though you had been so into him, he had never seemed to reciprocate your feelings, making you feel like his younger brother’s annoying best friend. For years you tried to get over your crush on Quinn Hughes, but to no avail, your heart still belonged to him even at the end of your sophomore year of college. You knew deep down, he would always be a part of you.

Always going to the same schools with Luke led you to where you are now, at the University of Michigan, sitting in your dorm room, clothes scattered everywhere. It was the end of the term, and you were meant to be leaving for the lake house in a mere 5 days, but excitement filled your mind. You were excited to be reunited with Luke, considering you hadn’t seen him in over a month due to him leaving for Jersey to fulfill his lifelong dream of playing in the NHL with his two older brothers. Though you were extremely proud of him for all of his hard work and accomplishments, you still missed him more than anything, having never spent this much time apart from him.Even though you were excited, the mere thought of spending another summer around Quinn had your stomach in knots. The two of you kept contact throughout the years, even with his busy hockey schedule and your school schedule you still made time to stay in touch. You weren't sure if it was your imagination, but something felt different about this summer, even if you weren’t quite sure what it was yet.

The drive to the lake house was peaceful as you listened to music and traffic was low. As you got closer to the lake house the more free you felt. All of the stress of the school year slowly leaving your body and the relaxation of summer being let in. Luke had texted you the day before that he and Jack were on their way, considering it took far longer to get to the lake house from Jersey. You had expected to be the first one there as you usually were, but to your surprise, there was already a car in the driveway when you had pulled up. It was not a car you had seen before, both Quinn and Jack had gotten new cars since the last time you had seen them, but considering you hadn't heard anything from Luke since yesterday you had a very strong feeling that it was Quinn's.

You entered the house voicing a quick “Hello?” announcing your arrival to whoever was in the house. At the sound of your voice a very tousled looking Quinn came rushing down the stairs to greet you. The sight of his messy brown hair and bright but tired eyes brought a smile to your face. Your smile was contagious as it brought one upon his face just before he engulfed you in a bone crushing hug. The hug was comforting, like coming home after a long time away, but that didn't stop the feeling of butterflies from erupting throughout your stomach. “Hi Quinn” your voice came out barely above a whisper, being slightly muffled against his chest. “Hey y/n/n, long time no see huh” he jokes. You can't help but chuckle at him as you begin to pull away. Though, Quinn clearly wasn't ready to pull away, as he pulled you back in and gripped you tighter than before. The slight action had you flushing and you were grateful he couldn't see your face at that moment.

Finally as the two of you pulled away, Quinn spoke up asking “Have you heard anything from tweedle dee and tweedle dumb? They haven't said a word to me since they left Jersey yesterday.” The old nickname had you grinning as you responded “No, I haven't heard from them since about the same time.”

“Well then,” Quinn smiled, “it looks like it's just you and me for a while.” You were sure he didn't mean to sound so suggestive when saying that, but that didn't stop the warm feeling you got from his words. Your time together was slightly awkward at first given the fact that you hadn't truly seen each other in a year, but as the minutes passed the awkwardness subsided and you both began to grow comfortable in each other's presence. Conversation came easily with Quinn, talking about anything ranging from your favorite music to how life at U of M had been. It shocked you how comfortable talking to him was, because even though you had grown up around him, Jack and Luke had always been there as a buffer, even when you had wished they hadn't. After about an hour of talking with Quinn you heard the familiar sound of another car pulling into the gravel driveway announcing the arrival of Jack and Luke.

Quinn and you immediately hopped up heading towards the door to meet the two boys. You were surprised when Luke dropped his suitcase bounding towards you before spinning you around in his arms. The suddenness of it all caused you to burst out with a pure laughter having missed your best friend so much. You and Luke had missed the look Quinn had given the two of you, but Jack sure didn't, smirking at the look of jealousy on his big brother's face.

“Let he breathe Lukey” Jack spoke teasing his brother “not all of us have had the chance to say hello to her yet” Jack had finished his thought as he pulled you out of the other boy's grasp enveloping you in a hug of his own. Luke pouts as his best friend is stolen from a grasp, crossing his arm as he speaks up. “Last time I checked she was MY best friend, not yours” His whiny tone elicited a laugh from all of you as you pulled away from Jack.

“Oh Lukey, you don't know how much I've missed you.” Noticing Jack's smile falter at your words you spoke up again “before you say anything, I missed you just as much Jack” your words caused a giant smile to break out on the two boys faces.

After you all spent some time together catching up, you had excused yourself up to your room to begin unpacking for the summer. Your room was just as you left it, your bed made nicely and littered with stuffed animals from fairs and arcades that you had collected over the years. The walls were covered in pictures that seemed to show the story of you growing up, with photos of you at your first birthday party leading up to a photo of you and the Hughes boys last summer. That newest photo was your favorite, it was taken your last day of the trip when Ellen and Jim had stopped by, you were on Luke's back smiling as widely as your face would allow, while Jack was trying to act all cool for the camera. Your heart always seemed to stop whenever you looked at Quinn in that picture, he was wearing just a pair of swim trunks, showing off his toned body, but that wasn't what caught your eye, it was the way he had looked at you and Luke, he had so much admiration in his eyes, and if you didn't know any better, you would've believed that look was pointed at you and you only.

You're broken from your train of thought by the sound of a knock on your door. You muster a quick “Come in” expecting to see Luke, and are pleasantly surprised to see Quinn. “Hey Quinn, what’s up?”

“Nothing I just wanted to spend some time with you, I don't see or hear from you as much as the others do” Quinn admits rubbing the back of his neck.

“To be fair Quinn I you've never made me feel like you wanted to talk to me so I’ve given you your space.”

“I always want to hear from you y/n/n.”

Quinns confession has your heart beating faster in your chest, so much so that you're almost certain he can hear it from across the room.

“Yo- you do?” you struggle to form the words as you try to process what Quinn just said to you.

“Of course I do, I care about you, I want to know what's going on in your life, hell I want to be a part of your life, and not just in the summers.” his eyes are watching you so closely, as if he's trying to read your mind, trying to know your every thought. Your mind is running a million miles a minute as you try to think of a response, as you try to pinpoint the context for which he's saying these things.

“What do you mean Quinn, you are part of my life, you always have been” you finally utter out.

“I mean..” he says as he steps closer to you grabbing your hands “I want to be in your life as more than just your best friend's brother. I want to be the first person you talk to when you wake up in the morning and the last person you talk to before you go to sleep. I want you in the stands of my games cheering me on. I want to spend more time with you than I get, whether that means me coming down to Michigan, or you coming up to Vancouver. I want to be with you y/n. I’m so in love with you, and I have been for years. I can't keep that to myself any longer.”

Never in a million years would you have expected that from Quinn. You stared at him in such awe trying to figure out if this was real or some cruel prank the boys thought would be funny. And as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, Quinn speaks up again

“I know you weren't expecting this from me, I wasn't expecting it either, but after we spent all of that time talking before Jack and Luke got here, and after I saw how touchy Luke was with you, I just knew I couldn't hide this anymore.

After you still hadn't responded, Quinn began to panic a little.

“y/n… please say something.” That was all it took for you to snap out of the trance you were in and respond.

“Quinn, I’m so in love with you. I have been since I was eight years old and you held my hand after I had scraped my knee open. I've tried for years to push my feelings down for the sake of Luke, but also because I never thought you would be interested in me. I've never seen you as just ‘my best friend's brother’ , you're so much more than that to me, and I want all of those things too.”

The second those words left your mouth, Quinn wasted no time grabbing your face and bringing your lips to meet his. At first you were shocked, but you were quick to kiss him back as this has been something you had wanted for years. The kiss was full of passion and promise. Years of pining being made up for by one breathtaking kiss. You only pull away when you're both out of breath, leaning your foreheads together. It's in that moment you remember one detail. Luke.

“Quinn?” you ask, breaking the silence, only receiving a hum in response. “What are we going to do about Luke? How are we going to tell him? Are we even ready to tell him?” you start to ramble, leading Quinn to cut you off with another kiss. This one is much shorter than the last, as he begins to speak “Let's not worry about Luke right now hm? We can focus on us for now and tell him, and everybody else when we're ready. Okay?” The look in his eyes is so comforting, it genuinely has you questioning if you'll ever be able to say no to him. You know deep down you won't, which is why you say “Okay.”

So that's what you did. You and Quinn spent the whole summer focusing on your relationship by keeping it to yourself. That consisted of sneaky make out sessions in dark corners of the house, sneaking into each other's rooms in the middle of the night, holding hands under the blankets during movie nights, and sneaking glances that lasted longer than they should have. It sucked keeping such a big secret from your best friend, but you weren't ready to tell him yet, and you were enjoying your time with the man you loved.

Summer had come to an end much faster than you had ever expected, and that meant you would all be going back to your regular lives soon. You were worried about what that meant for your relationship with Quinn, being new to the whole long distance thing, but you were hopeful nonetheless. Today was the last day you would all be together, and you wanted it to be memorable. Luke had decided that going out to the local club would be the best way to spend your last night together, and of course Jack agreed 100%.

That's how you ended up here in a crowded sea of people cradling a vodka cranberry trying to make your way back to the booth the boys had saved for all of you. You hadn't even made it more than three feet away from the bar when a hand was grabbing your wrist. Turning you come face to face with a strange man who's very clearly drunk. You try taking your wrist back, but his grip only tightens and he speaks up in a dark gravelly tone “What's the rush doll, I jus’ wanna dance” his words slurring as he speaks

“I don't think my boyfriend would like me dancing with you, i’m trying to get back to him if you don't mind” you tried to stay calm as you tried pulling your wrist free again, his grip bruising now.

“You don't have to lie about having a boyfriend doll, if you don't want t’ dance jus’ say that”

before you get the chance to respond you feel an arm wrap around your waist and hear the voice of your boyfriend say “She doesn't want to dance pal, leave my girl alone before we have problems”

My girl, even though you knew you were his girl the words still sent butterflies to your stomach and a heat down to your core. At the sight of your boyfriend, the creep lets go of your wrist putting his hands up in surrender leaving you and Quinn alone.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Quinn practically screams, trying to speak to you over the music. It doesn't take you more than a minute to respond with a yes. The two of you find Jack and Luke and tell them what happened and that Quinn had offered to take you home, and let them enjoy the rest of their night. Luke was worried and didn't want to leave you alone, but you managed to convince him to stay and have fun.

The ride back to the lake house was torture. Quinn's hand rested on your thigh while his other gripped the steering wheel, and he was drawing shapes into your skin, his hand occasionally going higher messing with the hem of your dress. He knew exactly what he was doing, though it was the slightest of touch, it still had you squeezing your thighs together. You glanced over to look at him seeing the mischievous smirk on his face. Shaking your head you tried not to focus on his touch and focus on the scenery on the drive back (it didn't work.)

The second you had made your way into the lake house Quinn was on you. His lips attached themselves to your neck leaving open mouth kisses and nibbling just below your ear eliciting a gasp from your mouth. You turn around in Quinn's hold bringing him in for a needy, almost desperate kiss. His tongue running against your bottom lip requesting access, which you'd be crazy to refuse him. He slips his tongue into your mouth massaging your tongue with his, as his hands start to explore your body. You break away trying to catch your breath as you grab his hand dragging you up to your room. You attach your lips to his again once you're in the safety of your room, hands reaching up to unbutton the slutty black shirt he was wearing. No matter how long you had been with Quinn, you still got nervous in intimate situations like this with him causing you to have shaky hands. You could feel him smirk into the kiss at the shakiness of your hands, as his own reached up to slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders. He was pleasantly surprised to find out you weren't wearing a bra, groaning into the kiss as his hands groped your breasts nimble fingers flicking over your nipples. The sensation had you pulling away from his lips letting out a low moan, spurring him in further as he lowered his mouth taking your left nipple into his mouth. Your hands made their way into his hair holding him to your chest, Quinn backing you up until your knees hit the bed causing you to sit on the edge of the bed. Lowering himself in front of you, Quinn looks into your eyes looking for permission as he hooks his fingers into your panties, you mutter out a quick yes and he wastes no time pulling them off and licking a long stripe up your pussy. The sensation has you arching your back lacing your fingers through his messy brown hair. The only noises that can be heard through the room are the pornographic moans and groans coming from you and Quinn as well as the slick sound of Quinn eating you out. It doesn't take much more before you're coming undone on Quinn's tongue as he helps you ride out your high. You and Quinn spent your last night together, sanctifying your love for each other and cherishing each other's bodies as much as you can before you get separated.

Nothing could ruin the bubble of bliss you and Quinn had made for yourselves. Or so you thought until you were woken up in the morning by the sound of “WHAT THE FUCK” causing your head to shoot up to see your best friend, whose eyes are locked on the sight of you and his older brother laying naked in your bed.

This was not how you wanted him to find out.

Fin

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #hockey smut #vancouver #vancouver canucks #hockey imagine

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nsharks · 1 year

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it's safe here | simon “ghost” riley

words: 2.6k

plot: simon says “I love you” for the first time.

tags: a little bit of smut, mostly fluff and love, reads well with my previous fics, death mention, fem!reader

Ghost didn’t know if love was something he was allowed to have.

It didn’t seem like it.

There were three people who had received proclamations of love from him, and all three of those people ended up killed. It seemed Ghost’s love had as deadly of a touch as his hands. His love was tainted and dirty; he could run his hands under a faucet and watch the blood swirl down the drain, but all the death he’d caused wouldn’t follow it.

He’d told himself it was just sex with you. In the beginning, that’s all it had been, right? Sex and scarce kisses and long drives around the city where he’d just listen to you talk.

You’d ran into him one night on your bicycle (almost quite literally), and then somehow two years later, he was waking up to your soft toes poking his thigh and your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom.

It wasn’t just sex, of course—

—not when Ghost found himself dreaming about you and asking you to stay over every night.

The thing was, he’d never felt lonely before you. Ghost quickly realizes that loneliness requires the knowledge of what good company feels like; ever since he met you, solitude became painful. It’d stick its teeth in him and gnaw and chew until he gave in, calling you sometimes in the middle of the night.

Can’t sleep without you, pet.

It started with those late night calls, which turned into you practically moving in after six months, and then officially, after over a year, Ghost asked you to be his girlfriend.

Well, he didn’t ask, really.

Ghost never had a girlfriend before so he didn’t know better.

“My girlfriend doesn’t like pickles,” he had said one day when you went out to grab lunch. You’d told him it was okay, you’d eat it anyway, but he shook his head and called the waiter over. “Can you fix this, please?”

“Simon, you just called me your girlfriend,” you’d said once your food came back, utterly stunned.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Since when did you ask me?”

“Ask you?” he furrowed his brows. “Do I need to ask ya?”

“Well… usually that’s what people do.”

He cleared his throat and tried again, grumbling, “Be my girlfriend.”

It was more of an order than a question, but you said yes, anyway.

That was months ago and Ghost still hadn’t mentioned anything about love. You hadn’t even seen your boyfriend without his mask fully off, or seen his unclothed body in proper lighting.

Until his birthday. A day that Ghost normally doesn’t celebrate because he’d had such traumatic experiences on it as a kid.

Somehow— with that strange ability you seem to possess— you manage to turn something dark and twisted into something pure and new.

_____

You plan a surprise for him.

Last year, you’d missed his birthday because Simon didn’t tell you about it. But now you know when it is, you’ve marked all your calendars, and you secretly figured out what flavor cake he preferred (had to bring home different slices from the store and leave them on the counter to see which he ate the most of).

When Simon comes home from the gym, he’s showered with what can only be described as love.

He sees the balloons on the floor, all ten of them that you blew up yourself, and then the cake on the table that’s got some frosted words in your handwriting.

And then there’s you.

It feels like his life has been many miles worth of nighttime and now, it’s breakfast. The sun is up, and he sees it in your eyes as you beam at him.

“Surprise, Simon,” you smile, cheeks rosy and matching the dress you’ve got on. “Happy birthday.”

“You did this fo’ me?” Simon asks slowly. He sets his gym bag on the floor.

You’re worried you’ve overwhelmed him. Romantic gestures are not something he’s used to giving or receiving, but he’s been slowly warming up to them over the course of your relationship.

You tuck your hair behind your ears and nibble your cheek. “Well, it’s your birthday, and we didn’t do anything for it last year. I just thought that you might-“

“Y/N,” he stops you. “It’s… nice.” Simon is terrible at this. He swears under his breath, “Fuck, it’s lovely.”

“There’s something else,” you say carefully. “The cake is for later. I’ve got a little supper packed for us.”

“Packed for what?”

You don’t explain. Instead, you grab the sack you’ve packed and a folded blanket and guide him outside. Simon’s house— the one you’ve moved into with him— sits on a quiet, gravel road with few neighbors. The town’s edge is still and the skies grow grey as you walk together. He is confused when you stop at a seemingly random spot, just near a rose bush, and you lay down the blanket you’ve brought.

“This is the spot where we first met.”

He hears the words leave your mouth but he’s so focused on your lips that he doesn’t quite process them.

“The…” Simon looks around and the memory comes into view. “Christ- right here, was it? With your bike?”

Simon is overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. The two of you sit there, having a picnic in the middle of this quiet backstreet where you nearly ran into him, and he listens to you talk because, as usual, he’s at a loss for words. You tell him about the process of making the cake, and how you had to try three times before it came out right. All the while, his heartbeat is thick in his chest and he’s wondering how did this happen?

It feels like yesterday he was pushing you away, playing a sick game of trying to guess when you’d finally give up on him. Simon knew he made things hard; he could be angry, demanding, and painfully reserved. But you were so patient with him, held him close during his nightmares and never pried about the mask he felt dependent on.

Now today, in this moment, you are his girlfriend, and you have planned the first real birthday he’d had in years. He doesn’t plan on pushing you away—

—as you keep talking, Simon’s brain runs through all the ways he can think of to keep you close.

Then, it starts to rain.

“I was worried this would happen,” you sigh when the first few drops hit you. “Come on, we can finish at home—“

You’re getting up when a hand reaches for your arm and tugs you back down.

“Wait. Hold on.”

The gentle request is uncharacteristic of him. That tone of voice only makes an appearance when he’s with you, because you’ve had Simon doing things he never imagined doing since the beginning of your entanglement.

For one, he never kissed people before you. Once or twice when he was a teenager, but he never really cared for it- now, Simon thinks he’s obsessed with how your mouth fits against his, soft and delicate.

He pushes up the edge of his mask, just below his nose, and covers your lips with his before you can question it.

The rain is unforgiving, growing heavier, but both of you are too focused on each other.

Simon cups your damp cheeks and holds your face firmly while kissing you, slow and deep. Thoughtful swipes of his tongue that pry your lips apart so he can explore and take in every detail, every taste.

There are words exchanged in this kiss that he struggles to say. Doesn’t know what language to translate his feelings into.

Thank you? No. You’re all I have? No. I can’t believe you did this all for me?

But you know what language to use. You’ve known for some time now, and as you pull away from the kiss and lean your damp forehead against his now-soaking mask, you let yourself finally whisper:

“I love you.”

_____

Simon doesn’t say it back.

You were kind of expecting as much, but still, it stings. You’d played all the scenarios in your head of how this first time telling him you love him could’ve gone; the two of you walking back in an uncomfortable silence, clothes soaked, wasn’t one of them.

You also don’t expect him to be visibly frustrated. Simon‘s got the wet blanket in his arms, his eyes are dark and unreadable, and his body is tense.

When you get to the house, you’re quick to run to the bathroom, eager for a hot shower that will hopefully wash off the burn of his silence and mask the tears you’d been holding. You don’t even feel embarrassed about telling him; just defeated. He kissed you like he loved you, held you like he loved you—

—why couldn’t he just say it?

In the house, Simon follows after you, knocking his knuckles to the bathroom door just after you’ve peeled off your clothes.

“Let me in?” he requests hoarsely.

Holding your breasts in your arms, you use the excuse, “I’m naked.”

“So?”

Reluctantly, you unlock the door and dig your teeth in your lip as he steps in. Your body is cold from being wet and he’s still got his soaked clothes on, not caring that he’s leaving a little trail of water behind.

Simon’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling as he looks over your naked body and then gets the shower running. You stand there confused, but he grabs your hands and guides them to the hem of his wet shirt, the notch in his throat visibly tight.

He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand; you start helping him undress, carefully and hesitantly, because he has never let you do this before.

You peel the shirt up his torso and his chest is revealed under the bright bathroom lights, allowing you a view of every scar etched around a every tattoo, the burns on his side that you’d never gotten a good look at before, and the trail of coarse hair down his navel. The bare skin is cold and blissful under your fingertips.

You swallow, “Your belt.”

Hands reaching for it, Simon helps you with the contraption before you’re able to tug down his jeans. His legs are exposed to you and you quickly realize they are equally marked. A burn scar consuming his left thigh. A deep scar just above his knee. He’s got tattoos on his calves that you’ve never seen before until now.

Simon is completely naked before your eyes.

You can tell it makes him nervous. This brooding man who’d kill more people than you wanted to know, shifts uncomfortably and flickers his eyes to the light switch, probably itching to turn it off and hide himself. But he wills himself not to— for you.

“Simon,” you lay your hands on his chest, feel how strong his heart is. “I… love you. All of you.”

You’re the one who leads your hands to the hem of his mask. It’s soaked and probably uncomfortable, and your fingertips dance underneath it as if to ask for permission. When Simon doesn’t push your hands away, you swallow and pull the fabric up.

Up all the way this time. Up past his stubbled chin, his lips, his nose, and then his eyes.

He let’s you do it. Let’s you peel the mask over his hair and then fold it on the towel rack for it to dry. After two years, Simon trusts you fully— completely.

And you; you are in love with him. So much so that it didn’t really matter what face was under that mask, as long as it was his face.

Once in the shower, Simon bends down to bury his face in your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. Hot water enveloping you.

“You’re handsome,” you tell him.

“I know, pet.”

There’s a smirk that you feel against your neck. Your fingers dig into the skin of his back, the muscles still tense, but you’re glad to see his frustration is gone.

Mumbling into your skin, he says quietly, “I want to fuckin’ say it.”

Your heart flutters. “Say it then. It’s… it’s okay to say it.”

But Simon isn’t convinced. Has anyone ever survived hearing him say it? Is he allowed to have these feelings?

“If I say it,” he grumbles, “Then… bad things could happen to ya.”

“No,” you shake your head, “Bad things won’t happen. It’s safe here.” You promise to him softly, running your hands through his wet hair and drawing circles at the nape of his neck. You understand what holds him back now, what has been holding him back for the longest time, and it makes your chest ache.

“It’s safe here,” you repeat when he doesn’t respond. “You can say it, Simon. It’s just me.”

He runs his rough hands up and down your back, keeping you impossibly close to him in the small space of the shower (which he takes up most of). Then, he gently pushes you against the wall and presses one hand above your head, pulling his face away from your neck so you can see him.

You feel Simon against your thigh. Hot and heavy, it’s not a surprise that’s he’s hard.

But he’s focused on your lips. Thumb pressing gently to them, he studies your face and swallows his hesitation and breathes deeply through his nose to muster up his confidence.

Then, with a flicker of fear in his eyes, he whispers, “I… I love you, too.”

He says it so quietly that you think he’s scared of someone else hearing him. All of the dark thoughts cut through his eyes and he looks around wildly. But it’s only you there; there has only ever been you. You think you could cry from the relief of it all. The weight has been lifted now that he has opened himself to you and you have stripped yourself open for him, heart hanging out.

Then, his eyes make it back to yours and he sighs in relief.

Soon, you’re kissing up against the wall, eager and starved with hands that fumble around to touch every inch of each other. He takes you against the wall like this, fingers uncharacteristically fumbling as he guides himself to your folds, so you grab his length and help him. The press of him is so deep inside you that it’s consuming, and all you can think of is how he reaches a part of you that no one else ever had or will.

Your hands are in his wet hair, clawing and whimpering. “Simon.”

“I know.” He moves his lips to your neck and kisses up along it. Hands cupping your thighs, he hooks your legs around his waist so all of your limbs now cling to him. You don’t mind. If you could, you’d invent a way to be even closer to him. “I’ve got ya.”

You both say the words again somewhere in the midst of it all.

And then, Simon finishes in you with a muffled groan, softly biting your collarbone when he feels you tighten around his cock. But he doesn’t pull out. You stay like this for awhile, legs wrapped around him and his cock still nestled inside you. There’s mumbled words and quiet touches as you both linger in this moment, one that you’ve waited patiently for for two years. A moment that was once Simon’s biggest, most secret fear.

____

Simon doesn’t wear the mask for the rest of his birthday.

He says it’s because it’s still wet, but you hope it’s because he feels safe without it.

You both change into your pajamas after the shower, but it takes awhile to fully get them on because he ends up taking you on the bed, too. Can’t seem to keep his hands off you, with constant, gentle kisses and gropes to your waist. He touches you like he thinks you might disappear if he doesn’t.

Simon loves you. You carry around this fact with a glow to your cheeks. Even though he would leave you soon, for months, you’d have these words to hold on to and keep you warm.

“You really made this?” Simon asks when you cut him a piece of cake.

You snuggle up on the couch and share it together.

You hum and nod. “Pretty good, right?”

“Pretty good,” he mumbles in agreement, tugging you to his lap and resting his chin on your shoulder. Then, he adds softly, “Might have to keep you around long enough for my next birthday.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #call of duty #cod #john soap mactavish #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #fluff #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #smut

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lucistarrrrs · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Raiden Ei!Reader.

Summary: Lucifer met Y/n in the cake shop and she's a powerful overlord feared by sinners and well respect.

Genre: Fluff.

Warning: Bad Grammar

Lucifer was just walking to the pentagram city, but until he saw some sinners trembling in fear and walking quickly to get away, what were they running away from?

He took a closer look, and his eyes sparkled. It's beautiful dark violet hair that became lighter at the ends, and as Y/N turned around to the king of himself,.

Lucifer stared into her purple eyes with light blue pupils. She was tall, just like Lilith's height. Y/N was eating dango and sweets while staring at him.

Y/N has two names, Ei or Shogun. In her district, Raiden Shogun is in charge. Their Raiden Shogun is her puppet that she created her first creation is Kunikuzushi.

Lucifer offered Y/N to have some chitchat, and they talked about something that Lucifer troubling his relationship with Charlie.

"But I'm trying my best to support her dream and be there for her," Lucifer spouted, and his gaze reflected what Lucifer said: that his daughter and the king have some issues.

"Hmm? You seem kind of having issues then, but that's not my problem anyway?" Y/N said directly, not understanding what he said. Lucifer was shocked, pale, and dumbfounded.

Y/N was eating the last piece of the cake. "Did you eat all of the cake?" Lucifer asked her, and Y/N nodded. She left some icing on her lips.

"I do have two kids, but... He thinks that I abandoned him, but I don't wish to take control over him, and I have a daughter who looks like me, but she seems cold and stern." Y/N stated, sipping her tea, and looked at Lucifer. "And I locked myself in the Plane of Euthymia. I left my puppet to take charge, but they two called me mom or mother. I don't know why?" Y/N stated and sipped her tea, looking at Lucifer. She was shocked by the fact that her two kids are in charge of her district and the other one was abandoned by her, but she doesn't want control.

"So you're saying that your kids are puppets?" Lucifer questioned Y/N, and she nodded. "They don't have dick and vagina, Lucifer; they're puppets," Y/n said to Lucifer, sipping her tea again. Lucifer choked on his tea after she said that.

"But it's nice talking to you," Lucifer stuttered, and with a little blush, Y/N giggled. "Hey, try this dango; I just went to the human world." Y/N offered the dango to Lucifer.

Lucifer takes it and eats the dango; it's delicious. As Lucifer finishes eating the dango, Y/N offers some dango milk, and Lucifer drinks it.

Time skip

Lucifer was walking to the hotel and humming some sweetly and giddly. Charlie was looking at her father, who was so in love and smitten all of a sudden.

"Dad, why are you being smitten all of a sudden?" Charlie asked his father. Lucifer didn't listen to what Charlie was saying; he was distracted by Y/N in his mind.

Charlie waved her hands at his face, but he was daydreaming, and she snapped her fingers, but there was no response. Charlie looked at Vaggie, but she shrugged her shoulders. But someone knocks on the door. Vaggie opens the door, and it is revealed that Y/N smiles softly at Vaggie.

"Hello, is this Hazbin Hotel? I've seen the battle of yours; it's quite entertaining." Y/N chirped and exclaimed as Vaggie shut the door closed. She blinked. She was anxious again. 'Did I say something bad? ' Y/N thought as the door opened. It's Charlie.

"Hello, Ms. Shogun, please come in," Charlie greeted Y/N. "Please call me, Y/n. It's clearly you speaking to my daughter. I'm sorry for her behavior. She's just functioning." Y/n breathed, put her hands together, and smiled.

Lucifer saw Y/N, and he walked towards her. "Welcome to the Hotel Y/N," Lucifer greeted her. "It's a pleasure, Lucifer Morningstar," Y/n said to Lucifer.

Angel looked at Lucifer, and Y/N whispered to Charlie,It's your dad in love with her or something, because I feel the tension between them." Angel whispered to Charlie, and Charlie was confused by it and looked at her dad's gaze at Y/N while talking to her.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer tour around Y/N to learn about the redemption of rehabilitated sinners.

"Rehabilitated sinners, huh? It can work though," Y/N said, and for a moment, Charlie and Lucifer watched her thinking.

"That's a big dream. I hope Heaven won't crush your dream, Charlie," Y/N said, like a mother supporting her dream. She touched her cheeks and smiled, and Charlie's eyes sparkled. It's like her mother is supporting it.

"I should probably go now; my assistant, Sara, is probably worried about me," Y/N said as they came down the stairs as Y/N was about to leave.

"Hey, Y/N, how about we go out tomorrow in the restaurant, and I could order all of the desserts?" Lucifer asked with his charming smile. When she turned around, she heard desserts. Her eyes sparkled, and she held his hands.

„Desserts! Ohh, my lovely hell, of course I'll go.“ Y/N cheered and wrote her address, giving it to Lucifer.

„I'll see you tomorrow then, bye Lucifer.“ Y/N waved goodbye and left a smile on her face.

Leaving the hotel crew, what just happened? The powerful overlord was just rizzed by Lucifer. "Oh my stars, did the king of himself charm the powerful overlord?" Alastor, teasing him as Lucifer glared at him, walked towards to Alastor Charlie, stop his dad.

#lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer

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annie115 · 25 days

Text

All of me for you (CL16)

Summary: They came from two completely different worlds, but their hearts spoke the same language.

A/n: This is probably the darkest shit I´ve ever written, but don´t worry it ends well :) It´s also sooooo long sorry for that but I really enjoyed writing it!! Before you start reading, please read the warnings!!! If you feel uncomfortable with any of those, please don’t read.

Let me know what you think!

Also, Charlotte´s kind of a bitch here so don’t forget this is completely fictional!!! Also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes

TW: 18+, mentions of smut, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of drug abuse (not reader), mentions of death (Charles dad), using of y/n

Word count: 7,700

Masterlist

She´s been working for Ferrari since the start of the season. It was her one shot, her one opportunity to get out of the life her parents had given to her.

She grew up in one of the most dangerous districts of Frankfurt, Germany. A place where nobody had a future, a place where no child had even the hope of dreaming for a better life. Her mother got pregnant from one of her customers, one who couldn’t care less about the twins she gave birth to. Her mother could’ve never afforded any kind of birth control, so she had to trust in condoms. It usually worked, besides this one time. As you know, one time can be enough.

She gave birth to a boy and a girl, both as pretty as could be. Big, green eyes and black hair, faces with visible bone structures. They became inseparable, not moving from each other’s sides. She was always the tough one, the one who made her name count on the streets she grew up on. She was just a girl, but nobody dared to mess up with her. She had everything under control, worked two jobs to be able to afford at least food and the rent for the apartment they shared with their mother. Well, that was when she grew older. Her childhood was nothing to speak of. No child should grow up on the street, begging for money or food. No mother should ask her five year old daughter to go to the bank district, just to ask some business men for money. But we won´t speak of that.

Every child in Germany had to go school, so she and her brother did as well. They got in trouble regularly but managed to graduate somehow after the tenth grade. She was smart, always good in speaking different languages. German, English and Italian were easy for her. Her brother spoke a bit of English, mostly German.

When she turned 15, she got her first job. Waiting in a restaurant wasn’t the best job for a teenage girl, but she needed the money and the tips were amazing. It was the first time in her life where she managed to have enough money, she was even able to afford some new clothes and make up.

When she turned 16, her brother made new friends. She immediately knew that they weren’t good for him, but he wouldn’t listen. It started with weed, smoked in the dark corners of the ghetto. It continued with pills, mushrooms, sometimes acid, until he tried heroin for the first time. Heroin is never a one time thing. It escalated quickly and before he was able to steal y/n´s money, she rather gave it to him. She tried to get him away from the drugs, she really did. Methadone therapy, real therapy, nothing helped because he simply couldn’t get out of his friends group. He relapsed every time. He got weaker from time to time, the drugs destroying his mind and his body. She got used to buy the drugs for him, to keep them for him and to give them to him when he wasn’t in the state to do it. It quickly turned out that one job could never be enough to cover the costs of her brother´s drug abuse, the rent and food, so she got a second job. Her boss in the little Italian restaurant she used to work in, offered her to work in his second location also, just on the weekends. So she did. From Monday to Friday, she would work in the restaurant, Saturday and Sunday were reserved for her working at the bar.

Life seemed to get a little better when she met him, Oliver. Her first real boyfriend. He was a little bit older than her, black hair, beautiful ice-blue eyes. Italian. She met him at work, he made her fall in love quickly. He promised her the stars from the sky, walked her home, bought her presents, was the most caring boyfriend you could imagine. That was until he wanted more. Sex was always a difficult topic for y/n, simply because of her mother. Y/n never wanted to be used just for sex, she wanted it to be with somebody who truly loved her. Something inside of her told her, that Oliver wasn’t the right guy. So she declined, every time he asked or made a move. But he was manipulative, managed to get her to do it. He invited her to his place, roses and candles everywhere and she started to think that it would be good. That it would be the way she always imagined it to be. He started gently. Kissing her, caressing her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Their first time was good, y/n was glad that she did it and that he was so gentle. The second time, was different. He wanted to be more in charge, having control over her body. She wasn’t a big fan of this, but didn’t protest. He was on top of her, buried deep inside of her when he lit a cigarette. She frowned, asking him not to smoke while they were having sex. He scoffed, telling her to shut up which she didn’t do. “You want me to put it out?” he asked with a dirty grin and she nodded. So he put it out.

The marks will never leave the spot just below her hip. They don’t hurt anymore, it´s too long ago, but they will always be there, remind her of him. She never told anybody, broke up with Oliver and was surprised when he didn´t have anything against it. Her brother noticed that something had changed, sometimes having clear moments when he was in between injections. It was when she got out the shower, her pyjama pants too low on her waist when he saw the marks for the first time. Y/n didn’t want to know what he did to Oliver, the only thing she knew was that she didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

So she grew older, living in the same apartment as before with her brother and her mother, who they barely saw at all. She was working all night and sleeping all day, drinking in the meantime. Everybody knew her name in the ghetto, everybody knew who her brother was and she was somewhat in charge. She hated this life, but she loved her brother and would’ve done anything to protect him, as far as she could.

When she turned 21, her boss, the owner of the Italian restaurant, offered her a job. One of his friends was the head chef of the Scuderia Ferrari Hospitality and they were looking for a new waitress on the trackside. Y/n couldn’t believe it. This was her chance. But still, she had to say no. She couldn’t leave her brother alone, she was all he had left. But her brother disagreed. The second she told him about the job offer, he did everything to convince her to take the job. Luckily, he had found two guys in the city who he could trust, making it easier for y/n to leave. This was her opportunity for a better life and she had to take it.

So here she was. Working all over the world, for the best racing team ever. She made friends within her first week at work and she especially grew closer to some of the drivers, due to their age. Y/n was one of the younger workers on the team and the drivers liked to be with her. She was funny, always had an open ear for everybody and seemed to have everything under control, all the time. Everybody noticed that she was extraordinary pretty, but all of them agreed on one thing: they couldn’t quite get what it was about her. She was an open book when it came to her opinions and thoughts but she would never share personal experiences. Hell, nobody knew exactly where she came from, which y/n enjoyed a lot. She could be somebody in the world of Formula One, nobody knew her story and her flaws, it was a brand new start for her and she wouldn’t waste it. One driver had his eyes on her, specifically. Charles Leclerc, driver for Scuderia Ferrari.

Y/n knew how beautiful the driver was, even before she started to work for the team. When she got to know him, she noticed that he was also humble, funny, charming and his heart was made of gold. Unfortunately, he had a girlfriend. A beautiful girlfriend, who wasn’t very fond of the idea of Charles and y/n being friends. But they couldn’t help it. The connection the two of them had grew deep and none of them was able to understand why. They laughed together, over the most basic things in the world. They could always count on each other and they would stick together through thick and thin. They soon started to call each other best friends. Charles promised Charlotte, his girlfriend, that nothing has ever happened between him and y/n, and he said the truth. Y/n would never start something with a guy who´s taken, Charles could never cheat on his girlfriend, even when sometimes, his heart pounded for someone else..

It was Sunday, race day, almost 10pm. The race was long over, nobody being left in the paddock but a few workers. Charles was still there also, sitting in the big red motorhome. “Charlotte, please I need to talk to someone, I feel like a loser right now”, he said with a trembling voice, then sighed. “No, I understand. Have fun with your girls, bye”, he said before he hung up. He was sitting on the big red couch, letting the tears fall down on his face when he let out his emotions. This day has been a day to forget. He DNF´d after 6 laps in the race. It wasn’t his fault, just engine failure. Still, he needed to win this race. For him. He sobbed, not noticing that someone entered the room.

Y/n wanted to lock up all the rooms before going back to the hotel, when she noticed light coming from one of the rooms. She went in, to see her best friend sitting on the couch, crying. “Charlie”, she gasped and headed over to him, wrapping her arms around his body to pull him close. “Hey, what´s going on?” Of course she knew that he dnf´d, but he usually wouldn’t cry because of that. “I wanted to make him proud”, Charles sobbed, pressing his head against her shoulder. “Shh”, y/n cooed, pressing a kiss on his head. “He died five years ago from today and what did I earn since then? Nothing”, he rambled and y/n put his face in her hands to force him to look at her. “Charles, I want you to listen to me now”, she started. “Your father is the proudest man ever. You´ve achieved so much, driving for Ferrari, winning for Ferrari. Maybe not today, but you did win and you will continue winning. And it´s not only about your achievements in racing, is it? You are the most beautiful human being I have ever met. Your father can be so, so proud of who you´ve become.” She wiped a tear from his face, happy that no tears followed, before she went on. “I don’t know where your father is right now, but he and Jules are watching you every second, and they will tell anybody what a beautiful man you are, I know it”, she said and smiled at him, caressing his cheek with her thumb. “Do you really think so?” he asked and she nodded quickly. “I´ve never been more sure about anything”, she answered and he leaned his head against hers. “Let´s get out of here, have you eaten?” she asked and he shook his head. She stood up and reached out her hand for him to grab it. „Pizza and Harry Potter?“ she asked and his eyes glowed when he nodded.

„Why is it that your hotel rooms are always way more comfortable than mine?“ Charles asked and finished his last piece of pizza. „I actually have no idea what you mean. You always get the suites which are way nicer than my tiny rooms“, y/n answered and chuckled. „Mhm, I guess it’s just because of your company then“, he said and turned to look at her.

They were laying on their stomachs, head facing the TV on the wall. She laughed and didn’t look at him, knowing that she would lose herself in his blue-green eyes. She had this feelings for him for quite a while now, butterflies flying around in her stomach whenever he was around, a deep desire to explore his lips with hers whenever he opened his mouth. But she couldn’t. Not because he didn’t return her feelings, actually she was pretty sure that he felt the same way. But he had a girlfriend. She didn’t know why he didn’t break up with her but it was for the best. She wasn’t the right girl for him. Charlotte was. She grew up in a health family, never had to face hunger or drug problems. Ferrari‘s golden boy and some broke ass waitress from the ghetto? No way this would work out. She got pulled out of her thoughts when he talked again.

„Thank you, y/n“, he whispered and she smiled. „Anytime, Charlie“, she returned and noticed that he didn’t stop looking at her. „Why is it that you‘re always there for me while my girlfriend is out drinking with her friends?“ he asked and y/n sighed. She didn’t have an answer. She didn’t understand Charlotte, didn’t like her much also. Still, she wasn’t the one to talk bad about one’s girlfriend. „I don’t know Charles, but I’ll try to always be there, I promise“, she answered and tried to focus on the movie again. Not for long, though. He placed two fingers on her cheek and turned her face so she would look at him. Their eyes locked immediately and green met blue. For a second her eyes flickered to his lips, who were slightly parted. She licked over her own, unconsciously, but it was enough for him to go crazy. He leaned forward, his lips striping hers softly. Almost cautiously, as if she could disappear any second. Her lips started moving against his, but they knew it was wrong. They pulled back, already out of breath. „I should go“, Charles stated without opening his eyes, y/n just nodded.

They didn’t talk about it, ever, but Charlotte seemed to notice that something has changed in y/n´s and Charles relationship. They were still hanging out often, but not as much as before. At first she was happy, thinking that maybe they had a fight and weren’t friends anymore but she quickly realized that it was something else. She has never liked y/n, never liked how she always managed to get everyone’s attention. She didn’t know that this was the last thing y/n wanted. Charlotte got crazy over how less she knew about that girl who slowly stole her boyfriend, she didn’t know that Charles basically didn’t know anything, either.

“I´m just wondering why you spend so much of your time with somebody you barely know!” she yelled, hands over her head while Charles was standing in front of the mirror, styling his hair. “Charlotte, I know y/n better than anybody. She´s always there for me and I just enjoy being around her, as a friend.” Charlotte scoffed. “Always there for you. Are you still mad at me because I wasn’t there the other night? You knew that I was in Monaco with friends!” He sighed and turned to her, satisfied with his hair. “I had one of the worst days and you weren’t there. I don’t blame you for not being by my side, I blame you because you couldn’t even listen to me on the phone. We talked about that a hundred times now, I´m tired of discussing it again”, he stated. “Now, come on. The others are probably waiting already”, he said and the two of them made their way to the hotel lobby to meet the others before they had dinner together.

Charlotte was strolling through the garage during the first practice session, when the head hospitality coordinator headed towards her. “Charlotte! You´re a friend of y/n, aren’t you?” she asked and Charlotte nodded slowly, not sure what to answer to that. She didn’t have much time to think about it, since the woman in front of her just continued speaking. “Great! Listen, I really need y/n to sign those papers for her contract renewal, but I can´t find her anywhere and I really have to be somewhere! Could you give those to her? I can trust you with that right?” she asked, again not leaving her enough time to answer. She handed her a big envelope and rushed away. Charlotte frowned, but realized what she held in her hands. If this was y/n´s contract renewal, everything was inside right? Where she came from, maybe even family situations, what she did before, everything. She had to hide a mischievous grin before she walked away to Charles motorhome, knowing that she would be unbothered for at least half an hour.

She didn’t find out everything, but everything she needed to know. After searching her address on the internet she found out that y/n came from one of the worst areas in Germany. She had to put in an emergency contact and chose her mother, because who else could she have chose instead? Charlotte found out where her mother worked and also that y/n had contact with the police quite a few times. Nothing serious, since Ferrari would’ve never hired her otherwise, but serious enough so that y/n wouldn’t want anybody to find out. She also googled y/n´s full name and found out that she has a twin brother, who was involved in various drug crimes in the past few years. She found enough to make sure that y/n wouldn’t be a problem between her and Charles anymore.

“Y/n, do you have a moment?” Charlotte asked while y/n was pouring herself some coffee, since she was on her break. “Sure”, she mumbled and frowned not knowing what Charlotte possibly wanted from her. “Your boss wanted me to give you these”, Charlotte said and handed her the envelope. “Oh, thank you”, she said and frowned again. Before she could say anything, Charlotte headed away.

It was the evening after the race when everything escalated. Charles and Charlotte, Carlos and Rebecca, Max and Kelly and y/n were sitting in Max´s suite, just having some chats and drinks. They were talking about nothing really, when Charlotte turned the attention to y/n. “Oh my god, y/n I wanted to ask you how´s your brother?” Y/n froze and looked at her. “What? Why what happened to your brother?” Charles asked. He knew that you had a brother but nothing more. Without stopping to look at Charlotte, y/n answered. “Nothing important, really. He´s better”, she stated knowing that Charlotte wouldn’t stop now. “Really? Did he get therapy or something? I couldn’t imagine having a junkie as a brother, this must be so hard. Also that you had to deal with it for so many years and even had trouble with the police.. you´re very strong”. Her words dripped from sarcasm and y/n had to focus not to lose control. Of course she read everything that was in the envelope. She should’ve known. “Wait what´s going on? Charlotte why do you know all these things?” Charles asked. “Charlotte, stop. Now”, y/n said with a tone that gave everybody goosebumps. Charlotte swallowed, knowing that she didn’t want to mess with y/n, but she had a plan and she had to stick to it. “What do you mean? I thought she told you everything about her. Also about her mother and all that”, she continued and y/n pinched her thigh, hoping that this was all a bad dream.

She couldn’t look at Charles, knowing that she would see the betrayal in his eyes. Not only did she not say anything to him about her family, she lied to him. She told him that her mother was working in a grocery store and her brother was studying at the university to become a teacher. She told him that her dad was working in the bank district of Frankfurt, which may have been true, she didn’t know. “Y/n?” Charles asked but y/n looked at Charlotte. “I think couldn’t live with the fact that my mother was a prostitute”, she said as if she didn’t destroy y/n´s life. Nobody said a word, the whole situation extremely uncomfortable for everybody around. Charles stared at y/n, waiting for her to look at him to tell him that it wasn’t true. That she didn’t lie to him all this time.

She couldn’t. She stood up, grabbed her phone and left the room. She never had problems with conflicts, but she couldn’t look Charles in his beautiful blue eyes right now. She made her way to her room, tears blurring her vision. She didn’t know why she wanted to cry. Out of anger? Out of sadness? Probably everything at once. She knew that this was it. Even if Charlotte hasn’t told her boss everything she knew, even if she wasn’t fired, how could she ever talk to one of the guys again? Charles would never forgive her, she knew that. He hated nothing more than lying, he told her that within the first week after they´ve met. Also, Charlotte would tell anybody. If she stayed, everybody would know her situation by the end of next week. Her reputation would have a bad influence on Ferrari, and they would fire her eventually.

She grabbed her suitcase and threw everything in, not caring about any kind of organization. A heavy knock on her door stopped her from continuing. She wiped the tears from her face as best as she could before she opened the door. Charles stormed in, furious. “I can´t believe she would say things like that? She´s so fucking jealous that she started to spread lies and rumours about you, who does she think she is?!” he yelled but stopped and frowned when he saw the suitcase. “What are you doing?” he whispered and looked at her. “Leaving”, she stated and he widened his eyes. “Why would you leave? I break up with her y/n, I swear. How could I be with someone who´s capable of doing such things?” he asked and y/n finally looked at him, laying all of her honesty in her eyes. She didn’t have to say anything. Charles parted his lips. “It´s true”, he whispered. “She didn’t lie”, he stated and y/n looked down. “She didn’t lie, but you did”, he said and suddenly his eyes weren’t shining anymore. “You lied to me, all this time”, he repeated and y/n swallowed hard before the tears started to stain her face again. “Charles, I couldn’t tell you. I just wanted a fresh start, I-“ “Don´t. You lied to me. I don’t care why.” “Charles-“ “Goodbye, y/n. If that´s even your real name”, he said and stormed out, leaving y/n sobbing and crying on the floor.

Charles didn’t speak to Charlotte before he followed y/n. She went back to their shared room in the meantime, satisfied with how it all worked out. Her happiness lasted for about ten minutes, until Charles came back. He didn’t say anything when he came in, just grabbing Charlotte´s bag. “Charles- what are you doing?” she asked with wide eyes. “You´ll leave. I don´t want you here”, he said and threw some of her stuff inside her bag. “Excuse me? Stop it! You can´t just throw me out where am I supposed to go?” she yelled. “I don’t fucking care. Get a room and let them put it on my credit card I don’t care. Just get out of my sight”, he spat and she scoffed. “What did she tell you, huh? Did she tell you that I lied? Believe me Charles-“ “She didn’t tell me that you lied. I know that you said the truth. But what kind of person does that? In front of so many other people? You exposed her to her friends instead of just talking to me in private.” Charlotte scoffed again. “She lied to you and still managed to make me the bad guy?” “No. You´re both bad. I don’t want to see any of you, so get out of my fucking room!” he yelled and she startled, grabbing her bad which was know almost completely packed. “We´re over, if that wasn’t clear”, he said before he slammed the door shut behind her.

It didn’t take long for y/n to fall into old patterns. Working in the little Italian restaurant, buying drugs for her brother who almost didn’t notice that she was back, saving her drunk mother from sleeping next to the toilet in the bathroom. It almost felt like her time at Ferrari was nothing but a fever dream. Lando texted her, sometimes, asking her if she needed anything. She barely replied. She appreciated it for sure, but it was better for anybody if she stayed out of their business. She decided, or persuaded herself, that it was better like this. She wasn’t the right person to be with Charles and she would’ve never been. Still, she missed him, every second of the day. She kept their little kiss in her heart, nobody could take it away from her. She realized how much she loved him, not only as her best friend. But still, it was better this way.

Charles didn’t think so. He was angry, furious even for a few days. But then it hit him like a train. How much he missed her, how much she had changed his mood every day, what big of an impact she had on his mood. Since she was gone, his laughs were less frequent. Suddenly he didn’t know who he could talk to, didn’t know who to turn to after a bad qualifying, a bad race or simply after a bad day. He missed her stupid jokes, the way she wore her hair in a braided ponytail, the way she never missed to look stunning and mysterious. Now he knew what was so mysterious about her. He missed how she gave him a feeling of safety, even if he didn’t need it. He missed how she fell asleep sometimes when they had a movie night, the ultimate proof for him for how much she trusted him. However, he tried to ignore his feelings. She lied to him and obviously had way bigger issues than he could’ve ever known. Charles had to hold back his tears when the hospitality coordinator asked him what happened to y/n and he had to explain that she left. He was angry at y/n for bringing him in situations like that. But fuck, as soon as he was alone in his hotel room he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He had to see her again, even if it was just for one time. He wanted to tell her how much she hurt him, he wanted to kiss her goodbye and beg her to come with him- what? No, that wasn’t what he wanted. He hated her, right? Didn’t miss her. At. All.

He dialled her number multiple times, never had the guts to actually call her.

In September he had to go to Germany for a karting event, at Hockenheim Ring. The track was about an hour away from Frankfurt and Charles heart beat faster just by the thought of being so close to her. What would his heart do if they were standing in front of each other? Well, he was about to find out because without wasting a second thought about it, he rented an old Volkswagen and made his way to Frankfurt. He had no idea what her address was, but he figured that he could just ask for the ghetto, right? Worst case would be that he would have to actually call her. The reason he rented a car like this was that he didn’t need fans or paparazzi to follow him. Whatever place he was heading to, it wasn’t a place for him to be. It also wasn’t a place for y/n to be.

He reached the city centre of Frankfurt and opened his phone to google where this area was located. He only had to type in “Frankfurt Ghetto” and it came up immediately. He switched to Google Maps and followed the GPS until he noticed that the landscape changed. Instead of modern buildings and people wearing business clothes, this place was full of big, old, ugly towers. Garbage cans and bags were laying everywhere, barely any plants or trees to see. People in sweatpants and dirty clothes were standing in every corner, watching him as he drove by. Charles made sure that his car was locked from the inside. He swallowed when he passed a big building with neon lights, knowing what was inside. He was wondering if that was the place where her mother worked. He swallowed and tried to stay calm. Suddenly, he couldn’t go any further. He was standing in front of two big building with parking lots on his left side. The only way was to the left or back to where he came from. He decided to stay in the car for a while and looked around. A few people were around, without paying attention to him luckily. A young man was sitting on the stairs of one building, fidgeting with his leather bracelets. Suddenly, the man looked up and Charles gasped. He looked like her. Same face, same hair, same bone structure. He was very thin, as if the wind could blew him over and he was wearing black shorts and a ripped black t shirt with a lot of stains.

Charles breathed out heavily and got out of the car. He knew that it was insane what he was doing. He knew that this guy was an addict, what if he was dangerous? Maybe he would rob him. But he was probably his only chance to find her.

He took a few steps towards the man who already looked at him. He didn’t stand up when Charles stood in front of him. “I know who you are”, he stated and Charles tried to control his breath. “You´re the driver y/n likes so much”, he said and Charles heart skipped a beat. “You´re her brother, right?” he dared to ask and the man nodded. Unexpectedly, he held out his hand. “Nico”, he said and Charles was unsure what to do. Eventually, he took his hand and shook it for a second before taken it back. “Charles”, he answered and sat down next to him. “What are you doing here?” Nico asked and Charles kicked a little pebble stone away from the stairs. “I wanted to see her. I miss her”, he answered truthfully. “She thinks you hate her”, Nico said and a painful ache went through Charles body. “I could never hate her”, he whispered. “Me neither. She´s an angel”, Nico said and Charles gave him a light smile. “Are you going to take her with you?” Nico asked and Charles shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know if she wants to come back.” “Of course she does. Even if she says she doesn’t. Since she came back she didn’t speak much, but when she did than it was only about you”, Nico said.

Charles wondered how much he could give on his words. Was he on drugs right now? Probably. If not, he wouldn’t be able to speak normal like this, right? Or was he? Charles didn’t know, he never had contact with a drug addict. “She has to go with you. She can´t stay here. She´s too good for this place”, Nico said and his voice started to slur a little. Charles frowned, realizing that he should end this conversation. “Nico, do you know where y/n is?” he asked. “She should be here soon, she had to work today”, he answered and looked at the stairs. “I should go”, he said and stood up immediately. Charles looked up to him. “Please don’t hurt my sister. She´s everything I have. I wouldn’t want her to go, but she has to. Don’t let her stay here”, he whispered and run away. Charles frowned and wondered what kind of guy Nico would be today, if he had never started taking drugs.

Y/n had already seen him when Charles turned his head. She was only a few metres away from him, staring at him as if he was a ghost. Charles stood up, quickly and wiped the dust off his pants. Neither of them said a word, before he was standing right in front of her. All the anger, all the hate was blown away as he saw her. Her long, black hair was falling over her shoulders. She was wearing high waisted jeans, as always, and a short white top. Her white sneakers were dirty. She looked beautiful. “Am I dreaming?” she whispered and Charles shook his head. “You still owe me an explanation”, he said and she clenched her jaw a little. “Not here”, she stated.

Only fifteen minutes later they were sitting around a small table in a café. Y/n didn’t know what to say, although she knew what he wanted to hear. “I talked to your brother”, Charles said and she looked at him. “Don´t worry. It was a nice conversation, actually.” “What did he say to you?” she asked and played with the handle of her cup of tea. “That I should take you with me again, because you miss me”, Charles said and couldn’t hide a little smirk. A smile flitted across her lips. “I thought you´d hate me”, she whispered and looked back at the table. “I tried”. “Couldn’t”, he added. “Y/n, I want to hear the truth from you. Everything.” And y/n told him everything.

From her childhood, her mother, her unknown father. She told him about her time at school and how Nico got in contact with drugs. How she always had to be responsible for her family. She told him about her ex-boyfriend who hurt her so much, she didn’t tell him what he did in detail. Maybe that was something for another time.

She told him about the nights she had to stay in jail, because she got caught buying drugs for her brother and how she managed to change the story a little for Ferrari, so that she would still get the job.

She told him about her jobs and how happy she was when she got the job at Ferrari. She told him that she was so happy when she met him that she didn’t want to ruin anything by telling him the truth. She told him how happy she was that she could finally start over. Nobody knew about her past or about her brother and nobody feared her the way they do in the ghetto.

“I know that I lied to you. I regret it now, knowing that I could’ve trust you with it. But I was so scared, Charles. I never had someone like you in my life, I couldn’t risk losing you. I know that I was selfish, and I can´t ask for you to forgive me. But I want you to know that I´m sorry.” Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat after telling him everything. She got nervous when he didn’t answer right away. “I do forgive you, y/n”, he whispered and she finally looked at him again. “Yes you hurt me, yes you lied to me but now I understand why you did all these things. I think I wouldn’t have acted differently in your situation. Of course I could never imagine being in your situation, but I forgive you”, he said and y/n couldn’t stop the sob from leaving her mouth. Tears were running down her face and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, afraid that this was all a dream and he would disappear again.

After a few minutes, she tried to calm down and let go of him. “I should go back”, she said. “Have to look after my brother”. Charles nodded and grabbed his keys before he drove them back to her place. The sun already started to set and Charles knew that he had to convince her soon. He wanted her to come with him and he wouldn’t leave her again. Not here. She got out of the car and headed towards her brother, who was sitting on the stairs again. “Everything alright?” she asked and Nico nodded, looking at Charles who stood behind her. “I will go upstairs. Leave you two alone.” Before he left he whispered something in y/n´s ear, so that Charles couldn’t hear.

Y/n turned to Charles. “Where are you staying?” she asked and he shrugged his shoulders. “I´ll get a hotel in the city. You can choose”. Y/n frowned. “Why would I choose?” “Because you´re coming with me. You didn’t think I´ll leave you here, right?”

She took a step towards him. “Charlie, you have no idea how glad I am that you forgave me. But what I did is unacceptable. I just left, without saying a word. Ferrari will never give me my job back. I hate it, I really do, but this is where I belong. I messed up everything and I deserve to be here”. “No you don’t. And you didn’t mess up anything. Yes, you should’ve said the truth from the beginning, but you did a fantastic job at Ferrari. And the only thing you lied about was where you´re coming from. You´re personality, your humour and your whole being was real. Charlotte was the one who messed it up. You´re right, maybe Ferrari won´t let you work for them but you could at least apologize and ask, right? And if they don’t take you, maybe another team will. Or I´ll hire you as my assistant or something.” He took another step towards her so that their noses almost touched. “I´ll do anything. Just come with me.” Y/n sighed. “I´m not leaving without you, y/n”, he whispered and she closed her eyes for a second. She cupped his face with her hands and pulled him into a kiss. Their lips touched for a few seconds, before she let go of him. She loved him. She loved him so much that it hurt. But was he really so foolish to love her back?

“I know that you worry about your brother, but he told me that-“ “I´m coming with you, Charles”, she interrupted him. “He just told me that he will never talk to me again if I wouldn’t go with you”.

After packing her things and saying goodbye to her brother, y/n and Charles were looking for a hotel. After checking in, y/n immediately took a shower as long as possible. She washed her hair, her body and shaved, she felt like a new human being afterwards. She changed into a short pyjama, shorts high enough to cover the marks on her hip. They didn’t even talk about sharing a bed, they just knew that they wouldn’t leave each other´s sides.

They were laying next to each other, the room was completely dark but the moon managed to bring in some light through the curtains. Y/n was snuggled at Charles side, listening to the sound of his beating heart. “Y/n?” Charles asked. There was one question he always wanted to ask her. He wanted to ask her when she didn’t want to show herself in a bathing suit at the hotel´s pool in Spain. The second time was when she screamed at him to leave the room because she wanted to change, even though she just wanted to change into sweatpants. He wanted to know everything. “Hmm?” she hummed and drew little circles on his chest.

“Why are you always covering your hip?” he asked and she gulped. “You will know it soon enough”, she answered and he was somewhat satisfied with that answer. The last thing he wanted was to pick a fight. “I want to kiss you again”, he whispered and she lifted her head to look at him. She rolled herself on top of him and started to kiss his jawline before stopping right over his lips. With a quick look of reassurance, he pressed his lips on hers. She moaned by the feeling of his soft lips, craving it for such a long time. He ran his tongue over her lower lip and she opened her mouth a little, to let him in. His hands were on her hips and he groaned when she squeezed his biceps a little. He quickly turned her around, so that he laid on top of her.

She hesitated and stopped kissing him, clearly feeling unwell with not being in control. Charles pressed his lips on the side of her neck. “We can stop whenever you want. But you don´t have to be in control all the time”, he whispered and spread little kisses from her neck to her jawline. He lifted his head and looked at her, her eyes fixating on him. “Do you trust me?” he asked and she quickly nodded. “100 percent”, she answered and he smiled. “You say the word and I stop”, he reassured her and started to spread kisses down her body. Y/n was already going crazy by his touch, she didn’t have sex since what happened with her ex-boyfriend. She thought she would never trust anybody with her body again, but she felt safe with Charles. She knew that he would never do something she didn’t want. So she let it happen.

She let him kiss her clothed breast, let him slid his hands under her shirt to caress them. He kissed her stomach but made no attempts to take off her pants. Instead, he pressed his lips on her inner thigh, kissing his way all the way down to her ankle just to go back up.

He grabbed the hem of her shorts, looking up to her. She nodded, slowly, closing her eyes as she felt him pulling down her shorts. He pressed a kiss on her thigh, then the other one. He kissed the left side of her hip and made his way over her belly button, before he reached the scarred spot. Three little round marks were there and Charles closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Did he do this to you?” he asked and looked at her. She only nodded again. “Did Nico take care of him?” he asked and felt relieved when she nodded once more. Carefully, he striped his lips over her skin. He felt the uneven surface of where the marks are and she gasped a little. He pushed himself up and hovered over her. “You´re beautiful, do you know that?” he asked. “Nothing could ever change that”. He didn’t wait for her reply, knowing that he wouldn’t get one.

He started pressing against on her body again, more demanding this time. He kissed her marks again before he got lower. She breathed heavily, waiting for him to finally touch her where she needed him most. Not wanting to tease her, he pressed his lips on her core. She gasped and bended her neck which made him smile.

His tongue found all the right places. He ate her out as if he was starving and he was in a way. He had to wait too long for this, imagined how she would taste like too often. Y/n was overwhelmed by the feeling, knowing that she wouldn’t last long. She grabbed his hair and moaned, never wanting this moment to stop. “Char-“ she gasped when her high washed over her, releasing her from the pressure. He hummed and licked over her now sensitive clit a couple more times before he pushed himself up to her again. Her taste and her sounds caused his cock to be painfully hard, but he didn’t want to rush things. “We don’t have to go further tonight”, he said and gave her a quick kiss. She shook her head, eagerly. There was no way she´d stop now. “Want all of you tonight, Charlie”, she whispered and he groaned, kissing her neck again. “I don´t have a condom, mon amour”, he mumbled and she forced him to look at her. “I´m on birth control. And I trust you”, she said.

Since she got her first period, birth control was the most important thing for y/n. Bad things happened in the ghetto and even though luckily nothing like this ever happened to her, she knew what happened to her mother. To avoid being in the same situation, she saved all her money to get an IUD.

Charles was quick with getting rid of his pants, lining himself up over her entrance. “Please”, she gasped and he slid inside her, overwhelmed by the feeling of her. “God, y/n”, he moaned and moved slowly, needing to get used to her tightness. “Faster”, she moaned after a few thrusts and he picked up his pace. “You´re making me crazy”, he moaned and slid one arm under her back to have her in a better grip. “Fuck, Charles”, she moaned loudly and he hissed, knowing that he wouldn’t last long tonight.

He felt her walls clenching around him after some time and when her orgasm gripped him tightly inside of her, he got pushed over the edge. With a few sloppy thrusts he finished inside of her, breathing heavily as he leaned his head against hers. Never had he experienced sex this intense. “Fuck, y/n”, he gasped.

She wanted him to say it. He wanted to say it. They´ve waited too long, had to hide their feelings for too long and he couldn’t wait much longer. But what if it was too early? What if she wasn’t ready for saying it too? Would it matter? Every single one of Charles thoughts got washed away when she opened her mouth. “Say it”, she whispered and he groaned. His hand found its way to her cheek, his heart pounding fast inside his chest. “Je t´aime, y/n”, he whispered and she breathed in heavily, afraid that her heart would jump out of her chest. “I love you too, Charles”.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #formula one imagine #ferrari #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1

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probably-writing-x · 4 months

Text

When The Ball Drops

Conrad x Y/n

Summary: You and Conrad had become fast friends, and you were convincing yourself it was nothing more. But new years always brought new beginnings, right?

There were a lot of things that Conrad disliked. Pineapple on pizza, films with stupid plot twists, wearing suits when the shirt felt too tight around his neck, when his brother would get into those moods and just whinge about everything. And New Years. He hated New Years.

He’d never been the biggest fan, but it had felt a hundred times worse since his Mom had passed. The year turning to the next just felt like the continuous reminder that he was going into another chapter of his life without her in it. And as much as the firsts were coming and going - the first summer without her, the first thanksgiving, the first christmas - there was still more to come. And every new year would now be another new year where Conrad didn’t have his Mom. And that made him HATE new years.

He wanted to forget it was happening this year. He’d go to sleep at 11:50, wake up the following morning and forget that anything had changed. He’d miss the fireworks, he’d avoid the celebrations, forget the new years kisses, and simply wake up for another new day.

“Conrad Beck Fisher are you even listening to me?”

It’s your voice that breaks him from his thoughts.

He glances up from where his eyes had been focused on a single spot on the kitchen floor, turning his attention across to where you were stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You were spreading a thin layer of mayonnaise over the sandwich you were making for him.

“I-“ He clears his throat, “What were you saying?”

You shake your head at him and let out a soft chuckle - Conrad’s sure in that moment he’d pause and playback that exact sound just so he could hear it again.

“I was saying…”

You and him had met this past summer. Cleveland had got Conrad a job on a yacht to keep him busy over the summer to ‘take his mind off things’. You happened to have a job on that same boat working as a server. At first, Conrad had been nothing short of cold to you. He was blunt, he was rude, he practically ignored you and everyone else for that matter. It was a couple of weeks later when you wore him down a little bit more. He started to say hello to you at the start of a shift, he offered to help you carry the crates of drinks on board, he stood with you whilst you cleaned the glasses and he had nothing to do until the guests came on board. Eventually, he started taking on more shifts so that he was always on the same days as you were. And that then turned into him driving you to and from your shifts most days - on the days when he didn’t, it would be you offering to drive him instead. He lived further away than you did and he practically had to pass your house to get to work anyway but that didn’t matter, you felt guilty if you never offered to pick him up. It was on those drives that he first started opening up to you. He told you about everything his family had been through. He told you about his Mom, his brother Jere, his relationship with his father, and the Conklin family whom you’d quickly learnt meant the world to him and Jeremiah. He told you about college and his dreams of working in medicine. He asked you about your family, found out about your own plans with college and your career. Despite the initial coldness, Conrad quickly became one of your closest friends.

When summer ended, you both went your separate ways. But he started to text you more then. He’d send you videos that he thought were funny, and he’d send you photos of the assignments he had for class that week. Those texts turned into calls when you both needed to revise some nights. Those calls turned into midnight deep confessions, him telling you he was scared of losing Jeremiah, confessing that he felt insanely out of his depth at college. You listened. And Conrad became more certain than ever over those few months that you were the best friend he’d ever had. He never told anyone as much as he told you.

“Okay you’re not listening and you’re not getting your sandwich now,” You wipe your hands on the kitchen towel, the sandwich now cut in two triangle halves and presented on the plate in front of you.

“No, no, I am listening,” Conrad ensures you, “You were saying about…”

You walk around to the other side of the counter until you’re stood in front of him, taking one half of the sandwich from the plate and nodding your head towards him, “About?” You take a bite of the food.

“About…” He clears his throat again, “Jake from work and how my brother asked you… something.”

You chuckle at him again, holding the sandwich out for him to take it from you, “Your brother has invited people for tomorrow night, and he asked me to invite people from work. So I texted Jake, Allie and Peter, and they can all make it.”

Conrad groans, “I told Jere I didn’t want to do anything, I’m not doing a party.”

“Conrad,” You raise your eyebrows at him as if you’re waiting for the reasonable half of him to return.

He instead bites the sandwich and stares into your eyes as if he can see your soul behind them.

“I think it’ll be fun. And Jere’s been planning it all week,” You point out.

Conrad shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know what we have to celebrate.”

“Con,” You try to speak softly, not wanting to overstep a line you weren’t sure existed, “I think it’ll be good for Jere. He could probably do with the distraction. Plus, you guys haven’t seen Belly and Steven in ages and I haven’t even met them yet so that’s reason in itself to have a party.”

Conrad rolls his eyes, “I’ll stay until midnight and then I’m done.”

“Wow, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

He blinks at you as if waiting for you to retract your sarcastic remark.

“Oh, and Jere asked us to go shopping for supplies so I’m gonna go pee and then we’ll leave yeah?”

“What?” Conrad half chokes on the food in his mouth, “I didn’t agree to shopping.”

You’ve disappeared out of the room before he gets a response from you.

———

Conrad drives to the store which means he also gets to pick the music, though he opts for your playlist anyway. It’s colder in Cousins now and it doesn’t quite feel the same without the windows down and the air ripping through the car, both of you hot and bothered after a shift at work. But there was something comforting about being back with Conrad again. You’d missed him for the few months you’d been apart.

“Okay so what do we actually need?” He asks you as both of you step out of the car, making your way across the empty parking lot.

“Well, party supplies,” You shrug, “All the usual stuff.”

“And this needs two people? Why couldn’t Jere do it?” He grumbles, pulling out a cart from the waiting line.

“Conrad do you ever stop complaining?” You scoff, trying to wiggle the next cart free as the wheel gets stuck in your attempts.

“Here,” Conrad leans over behind you, his arms either side of you as his hands settle over yours on the handle of the cart, tugging sharply to free it for you.

You pause there for just a moment and so does he, until both of you seem to snap back to reality and his hands part from yours almost as quickly as they’d arrived.

“Alright come on, let’s get in and out before you complain any more,” You encourage, “We’ll both fill up on supplies and you can just be there to silently hate your life and store things in your cart. We need cups, plates, food, decorations, everything okay?”

His shoulders drop as if in defeat but he agrees with you nonetheless, letting you go in ahead of him so that he can watch as you disappear down the aisles, already reaching for things to put into the cart in front of you.

—

The two of you browse each one of the aisles and you switch between throwing things into yours and his carts, slowly filling them with each aisle you went down.

“What even is that?” He frowns, examining the last thing you’d picked up.

“Photo booth decorations,” You grin, “It’s not a party if there’s not good opportunity for photos.”

Conrad stares at you as if the words had made him hate you the tiniest bit for the tiniest amount of time.

“You know, I really think you need cheering up Conrad,” You point out, eyeing up the shelves until you find what you wanted.

You reach for the rainbow boa and lift it over the back of his neck, smoothing your hands down the bright feathers that fell down either side of his chest. Conrad suppresses a sigh and it bobs into his Adam’s apple instead, his jaw clenching as he looks at you. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips however, the faint evidence that he couldn’t not love to see you happy.

“You look ready to celebrate now,” You grin.

“Are you sure about that (Y/l/n)?” He raises his brows, turning around to pick something up from the shelf behind him, “Because I think this is much better.”

A pair of flower shaped golden yellow glasses now covered his eyes, his lips curling into a reluctant smile. You laugh the kind of laugh that throws your head back, clasping your hands together.

Conrad knew he looked like an idiot. He knew this was probably the most colour he’d ever worn. He knew the feathers were itching his neck and the glasses were tight on the top of his nose. But it didn’t matter. You were laughing and he was sure that was a sound he’d do anything to hear.

“I think they need to go in the basket,” You encourage, taking the glasses slowly from his face.

Your fingertips brush the temples of his head, grazing across his skin with such minimal intensity and yet he still feels his cheeks burn a fiery red at the contact.

“Come on Fisher, we just need mixer and then we’re done.”

You disappear around the corner of the next aisle before he has a chance to think about it any longer.

———

The following day you spend the majority of your time helping Jeremiah set up for the party. Whilst you were here for the couple of weeks over winter break, you’d been staying in the spare room so you’d started to get used to this house.

You helped him hang up streamers in the lounge and balloons from every inch of space in every room you could find. There were helium balloons that read ‘happy new year’ across one of the sets of cupboards in the kitchen and the paper plates and cups had already been set up on the countertop.

Conrad had disappeared earlier this morning to go to surf and you hadn’t seen him all day since. You couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want the party, let alone for it to consume his entire day.

“So do you think my brother’s going to make it to midnight?” Jeremiah asks, stretching a deflated balloon between the fingertips of both of his hands.

“Id be surprised if he came at all,” You joke, dangling your feet over the edge of the kitchen island where you were sat.

Jeremiah scoffs, “You’re going to be there, he wouldn’t not come.”

“Wh-“ You let out a laugh, “We’re friends. He wants to see me just like he wants to see everyone.”

“Come on,” Jeremiah rolls his eyes, “You can’t be serious.”

You frown just a little and he must notice the expression on your face, interjecting quickly before your concern can increase.

“I just think he cares about you, is all,” Jere encourages, “And it takes a lot for Conrad to be as open with someone as he is with you. You’re good for him, that’s all I mean.”

You nod and offer him a small smile, “Well then I’ll make sure he stays until midnight, at least just to see the ball drop.”

Jeremiah grins, “You have a deal.”

He glances at the time on his phone and his eyes widen at the screen, which he turns around to you quickly.

“Bells and Steven are almost here.”

You were yet to meet the pair that the Fisher brothers spoke to highly of. But you’d heard enough about them to feel like you knew them already. And you also knew that you were about 95% sure that Jere had a thing for Belly. You’d decide that for yourself once you saw them together.

You’re just about to hop down from the countertop when you hear the back door open and turn to see Conrad walking in. His hair is damp and there’s a towel slung over his shoulders.

“There you are!” You smile, “I was starting to think you’d froze out there.”

He laughs and walks around the counter and over to you, standing just close enough to you that his thighs bump against your calves still dangling over the edge.

“It was pretty cold,” His voice is soft as if it’s been drained by the freezing temperatures of the water, his lips ever so slightly blue.

You run your hands down his arms, the cold of his skin.

“You must be freezing,” You frown, squeezing at the skin as if you wanted to inject some warmth into him.

He hums in agreement, his eyes on you as yours seemingly scan him, full of worry, “I’ll warm up.”

His voice is soft, softer than usual as if he doesn’t want to disturb the moment by talking.

“You haven’t told me that the decorations look nice,” You point out, furrowing your brows at him.

Conrad tears his eyes away from you to glance around at the room, eyes scanning all of it before returning back to you, “It’s definitely something.”

“Something,” You narrow your eyes, “You’re such a party pooper.”

“They’re here!” Jere yells out, shortly followed by the sound of the front door opening.

“They’re here!” You repeat to Conrad, your hands moving to his shoulders to steady you as you hop down from the counter, “Time for me to make a good first impression.”

He mumbles so quietly under his breath that youre too far away to hear as he says “It would be impossible for you to give a bad one.”

—

Belly Steven and Taylor climb out of the car and hurry straight over to Jere, engulfing him in a hug of reunion amongst a chorus of overlapping conversation.

Conrad walks out with you and steps forward to greet the three of them, ruffling his hand over Belly’s hair.

“There’s someone you guys need to meet,” He mentions, glancing back at you with a smile warming his face, “This is (Y/n)… my friend.”

“Yeah, hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you guys! I’ve heard a lot about you,” You step forward and smile, “Like a lot about you.”

Steven laughs, ��Yeah the boys are obsessed with us, that makes sense.”

“Oh my god I love your hair how do you get it like that?” Taylor steps forward and starts conversation with you.

“Oh um thanks, yeah-“ You glance up and see Conrad looking at you, that same warm smile on his face as if he was relieved you’d finally met this part of his life.

“I’ll take your bags inside,” You hear Conrad mention, soon feeling the soft touch of his hand on your back as he leans down to pick up Taylor’s bag from next to her feet.

His touch lingers for a moment longer, the faintest pressure on your skin. You’re certain the contact is electric, only recognising it in his absence.

———

“Hey Bells I told (Y/n) she could get ready with us in here,” Taylor encourages as she pushes open the door to the bedroom they were sharing.

Belly looks up from where she was sat in front of the vanity mirror fixing her hair, “Oh, yeah sure.”

“Sorry, I’m pretty sure I’ve been stealing Steven’s room whilst I’ve been here so I’ll try not to be in the way,” You smile.

“No don’t be silly you’re not in the way, right Belly?”

“Yeah, right.”

You take a seat on the floor in front of the window and make use of the disappearing natural light whilst it was still here.

“Okay so tell us everything (Y/n), what’s going on with you and Conrad?” Taylor asks, perching on the floor in front of the full length mirror.

“I-“ You laugh a little, “I met him at work, we both worked on this yacht over the summer. And I think if you spend any time with someone in that place you either hate them or become inseparable. And apparently me and Conrad were the second option.”

“Inseparable huh?” Taylor grins.

“Oh no no I just mean he’s like the only person in Cousins I spend any time with nowadays,” You laugh, “He’s just a good friend.”

“Really? Because the way he looked at you earlier didn’t look like friends, right Belly?”

Belly glances up from the mirror and you notice her pause momentarily, swallowing a lump in her throat, “I don’t- I mean I guess I didn’t notice.”

You offer her a smile and there are the faintest hints of her returning the gesture but they disappear quickly.

Conrad had mentioned to you that things had changed with him and the Conklins ever since his Mom had passed. He mentioned that the start of the summer was shitty but that things had worked out afterwards, when you and him became friends. But he never mentioned it in too much detail. He preferred to tell you of the years before and every memory of summers he had with them.

“You’re not looking for a new years kiss then (Y/n)?” Taylor asks you.

“No, no, not me,” You shake your head, “I don’t even know who I could see myself with.”

You set your makeup bag out onto the floor and Taylor plays music through her phone and the conversation dies down into the three of you singing along to the music instead. Belly’s quiet though, you can tell. It might be the day you’d met her but anyone could read that something was off.

———

You’ve smoothed your hands over your dress a million times and it still doesn’t seem to sit right. But you ignore it when you hear the door open again and more guests pour inside. You grab your phone from the bed and run a hand through your hair before hurrying outside and towards the stairs.

The party is already spilling through the entire house, oddly busy for how quiet Cousins felt during the winter. Jeremiah must’ve invited everyone they knew and told them all to bring friends.

You shuffle past a bunch of people you don’t recognise, spotting the familiar curls of Jere across the crowd to give you enough of a focus of where you were heading. The music was loud and you needed a drink.

“There you are!” Taylor grins when she sees you, “I was just about to come and find you.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change again,” You smile, glancing down at your dress again.

“Well it’s good you didn’t, you look killer,” She encourages, “Right Belly?”

“Yeah you look really pretty (Y/n),” Belly smiles a little bashfully in your direction as if she’s silently trying to apologise for something. Maybe she knew how it came across earlier, because you were already at least 70% sure that this girl didn’t like you, and you weren’t even sure what you’d done.

“Oh come on we have to dance to this one,” Steven grins, reaching over for Taylor’s hand and dragging her with him into the mass of people that were seemingly forming some sort of dance floor.

Belly steps around the kitchen counter so she’s stood closer to you as Jeremiah is busy chatting to a boy you didn’t recognise. You hadn’t seen Conrad yet.

“So how come you’re here for the new year?” Belly asks you, taking a quick sip from the red solo cup in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, well I told Conrad I didn’t have plans over the winter break and he told me to come and stay with them since they’d be here alone,” You nod, “And I didn’t have anything better to do.”

She nods, “So you two are pretty close then?”

“Well,” You shake your head, “We’re just fast friends, I don’t think it’s much more than that.”

“Conrad never makes fast friends,” Belly shakes her head, “And this is like the happiest I’ve seen him since… everything.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Before today, you’d never thought too much about things between you and Conrad. You liked being friends with him so much that you were scared of ruining it - and thinking of him as more than a friend would definitely ruin that. You thought you knew Conrad’s type and you weren’t that. He saw you as a friend, the way a guy is different with the girls he doesn’t see something with. You’d convinced yourself of that early on and it was only today where your thoughts of that had started to change a little. Maybe he could see you as more than a…

No. He was your friend.

“Speak of the devil…” Belly’s voice trails off as she finishes off the rest of her drink.

“Okay who are these people?” Conrad comes up behind you, the crowd behind him pushing against him so much so that he reaches out a hand to your waist to stabilise him a little.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” You return, glancing up at him as he comes to stand beside you, his arm bumping your shoulder.

“Jake and Peter say hi but they’re in a beer pong tournament apparently that’s too important to leave,” Conrad explains, grabbing a beer bottle from the open box and cracking it open.

“I’ll try to catch up with them in a bit,” You nod, glancing back over your shoulder as if you’d catch them in the crowd.

“I’m going to-“ Belly clears her throat, “I’m going to find Taylor.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, like you’d just been caught in the act or something. You’d never thought there was tension between you and Conrad when the two of you were together but it felt that way now and you couldn’t explain it.

“It’s weird seeing you in a dress,” Conrad comments softly, leaning down so that you can hear him a little better.

“Weird?” You practically grimace at the word, frowning a little up at him.

“A- a good weird,” He stumbles slightly into the words, “A good weird.”

“Learn how to compliment a girl Fisher,” You narrow your eyes at him, “Better than that.”

He rolls his eyes at you and grabs a red cup from the stack of unused ones, “What are you drinking (Y/l/n)?”

———

You’ve just about managed to settle into the party, and you’ve now been roped into the beer pong tournament that has absolutely strayed from being a tournament anymore. It’s just games of beer pong that don’t end. You’re on a team with Conrad and you’re playing Steven and Taylor, who are losing by two cups.

“Okay aim for that back one Taylor, any of that back line,” Steven encourages, his hands clasped together as if he’s praying,

“Steven you’re not even good at this stop coaching me,” She rolls her eyes, tossing the ball and watching as it bounces away from the table.

Steven suppresses whatever comment he was going to say and instead just wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling him into him, “We’ll get them next time.”

“You’re up (Y/l/n),” Conrad nods, leaning back against the wall behind the two of you, arms crossed as he watches you.

You throw the ball and it bounces once, landing in their front cup with a splash.

“That’s my girl,” Conrad beams, looping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“My girl?” Steven laughs, “Can you two just shut up and get married already?”

You hear Steven laugh, and so does Taylor, and Jeremiah, even Belly. And Peter, Jake and Allie were only a few metres away, they probably overheard it too. Were all of them thinking it?

You can’t explain it after that. You pull yourself abruptly away from Conrad’s chest, probably a little harshly. He looks down at you with a frown that quickly turns into utter concern when he sees your face, your frantic eyes.

“Wh- (Y/n) are you okay?”

“I’m sorry I-“ You drag a hand through your hair but no more words come to mind on time.

Instead, you turn and push as frantically as you can through the crowd until you reach the door to the garden, hurrying down the steps before anyone can catch up with you too soon.

———

The beach was eerie and peaceful at this time, at winter too. For as far as you could see, it was just you. You were stood on the sand a few feet away from the crashing waves. Your arms were wrapped around your torso to keep in some of the heat and you were already starting to shiver. It was nearly midnight in the middle of winter; of course you were freezing.

“(Y/n)!” It’s Conrad’s voice coming from behind you, but it sounds deeper when he’s worried, more like a bellow.

You don’t turn around.

“(Y/n) you had me worried sick, I didn’t know where you’d gone,” He breathes out a sigh of relief, “You must be freezing out here I-“

“Why do they all think something is going on with us Conrad? And why is Belly acting so weird with me? And why can’t they just accept that they’re friends? And what have you said to them about me?”

You turn around to face him and it’s as if everything rises to the surface in that exact moment.

He looks at you with worry on his face but it quickly dissipates into something more level headed as soon as your questions land.

“Okay,” He raises his hands as if in surrender, “I know they’re being assholes about us two together, but that’s just what they’re like, Steven’s an idiot and Taylor always wants to know people’s business, I promise they don’t mean any harm.”

You don’t respond.

“Belly’s weird with you because…” He takes in a deep breath, “This time last year, when my Mom was sick, I was dating Belly. It ended before my Mom died and we’ve figured out a way to be friends since but I think it’s just weird for her to see me with someone- someone that I’m close to.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, just for a second.

“I’ve told them a lot about you, I talk about you to them probably as much as I speak about them to you. You’re important to me (Y/n), and I want my family to like you.”

“But we’re just fri-“ Your voice shakes in the cold, “I mean you don’t see me like that-“

“Earlier,” He cuts you off, “When I first saw you tonight, I should’ve said you looked beautiful. That I think even with a thousand people at that party I don’t think I could find anything that would make me want to take my eyes off you. That even with a hundred voices and a million songs I don’t think anyone will ever say something that interests me as much as every word that you speak. That for the past few months I’ve felt exactly like that. That I wait for you to call and I’m sure I would talk to you every moment of the day if I could. That you look beautiful in that dress and you look beautiful every other day too, even more so when you don’t even think you do. I should’ve said that tonight and I should’ve said that long before tonight too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, feel the blood pounding in your ears, and yet all you can focus on is him.

“The truth is I’ve been lying to you, (Y/n),” He shrugs his shoulders, “I told you that you were the best friend I’d had. And that part’s true. But where I lied is that I don’t think I could ever convince myself to be just friends with you. I’d spend too long trying to make you laugh, focus too much on every detail so that I could remember it for next time, swap my shifts to shittier days just to see your face. So I’m sorry I lied to you, but-“

You see it then. It’s Conrad. Is it Conrad? Is it really the boy you’d been spending so long convincing yourself was just a friend?

“Kiss me.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump of nerves in his throat, “I-“

“Kiss me,” You repeat, more certain of yourself.

Conrad steps forward, closing the space between you. One of his hands falls to your waist almost instinctively, the other cupping your cheek softly. His eyes flick between yours, dropping to your lips before coming back to meet your gaze. And then his lips are on yours. Soft and hesitant at first, quickly met by the pressure of his certainty. His lips move against yours like the two were made for each other, his hands holding you like they were carved for you. You feel yourself moan against his touch as his hand draws to the small of your spine to pull you closer into him, craving more of your touch.

He only pulls away when the two of you are gasping for air, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“That was-“ You breathe out but all of the other words disappear as you’re interrupted by the echoing chorus of a countdown from the house.

Conrad’s eyes are on you and his lips curl into a smile, “I think our new years kiss was a little early.”

You laugh as their countdown gets closer and closer to zero.

“Kiss me,” Conrad is an echo of your own words from before, more certain of himself now that his veins are flooded with adrenaline.

Three… two… one.

Your lips are on his. Soft, longing, neither of you wanting to break away.

“Happy New Year, (Y/n),” Conrad whispers the words like he doesn’t want the breeze to take them away from you, his hands on your waist holding you like he would never let go.

“Happy New Year Conrad,” You return, your cold hands cupping either side of his flushed face.

He wraps his arms around you, radiating every ounce of heat his body had left as your head rests on his chest, watching the sparkle of fireworks across the other side of the coast as they ignite into the sky. And you’re sure then that Conrad would never let those same fireworks die out. And you could stay like this forever.

#conrad fisher #conrad x reader #conrad x you #conrad x y/n #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher drabble #conrad fisher blurb #conrad fisher request #conrad fisher fic #the summer i turned pretty conrad #the summer i turned pretty

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nocturnesmoon · 3 months

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I had a dream about this and thought you'd like it 😭 It basically boils down into your current vampire!reader fics but instead of a vampire, reader was like. this spider hybrid thing?? I was v confused 🫡

-😎

Eight legged dreams

Monster AU Masterlist: TF141 x Spider-Hybrid!GN!Reader A/N: I really wanna know what kinda weird dreams you be having 😭 I don't know what the spider hybrid looked like in your dream, but I think I'd be terrified, anyways this is a bit short but enjoy.

-The 141 gets a new, unexpected addition to the team-

Nobody is really surprised to find that people would end up experimenting with the concept of monsters. Ever since they recruited a few in the military, leash on tight, it was only a matter of time before some twisted minds picked up on the idea of creating monsters on their own.

The existence of mythical creatures has long been proven, though a lot are concealed and extinct, what if it would be possible to resurrect them, or create entirely new ones? The thought was quickly experimented with, the study of how monsters formed, made way for the ideas of monster hybrids that didn't exist naturally.

When the 141 was first assigned such a hybrid, they were sceptical. Promptly they thought they didn't need one, they did excellent work without the external help, but it quickly became a matter of not having a choice.

It didn't matter to the higher ups whether they used this hybrid on missions or not, the 141 was to record the movements of this hybrid, and at the end of the experiment they would each give an individual report of the experience.

If the hybrid became violent or disobedient, each one of them had full authority to eliminate them.

Simple right?

That's what they had all thought before they found out what a menace it could be. They had expected something simple, a wolf hybrid, or a reptile hybrid like they had heard about, but no what they got was arguably worse.

From the moment you stepped off the truck that brought you to them, they knew something was off. Sure, they hadn't been told what kind of hybrid you were, but this was unexpected even with that in mind.

Your entire physique didn't carry the same as a human would, fat, skin and muscle distribution was completely wrong compared to that of a normal human. You were adorned by another set of eyes right under your natural ones, just as well you had 2 extra sets of arms. It looked wrong on you, like you came from some eldritch abomination. They even wondered if it might hurt to have a form like that, but you seemed relaxed as can be.

Your form started to make a lot more sense when Price finally got his hands on your files, and care instructions. He wanted to chew your handlers out for not giving him the instructions sooner, but they left in a hurry like state, all too eager to get rid of you.

Apparently, you were a type of spider hybrid. It wasn't totally certain what your abilities were, there wasn't a whole lot of guidance from your previous handlers, and it only left Price all the more nervous.

Despite their apprehension about you, you were nice and accommodative. You listened to their orders and request and at first glance you seemed normal, not taking into account of how different you looked.

It didn't take long before they started finding out about your various quirks, showing more and more of yourself very quickly. You seemed to get attached to them a lot faster than they got warmed up to you.

Gaz was the first one to figure out that you had the ability to climb any surface and stick to it. It didn't really come as a surprise once he really thought about it, but the jump scare he got from it is one he isn't likely to forget.

He was just about to go to bed, changed into pyjamas and everything, lights turned off. Just as he was about to get under the covers he sees a glint in the corner of his bedroom ceiling, he slowly goes closer, finding it hard to see when his eyes aren't adjusted to the darkness. The second you get into view, his eyes widen a fraction, the real jump scare coming when you with a very menacing voice say, "Hello Kyle," he screams for you to get out, which you do with a pout. Days later he still doesn't know how you learned his real name, seemingly no one told you, you just found out.

Another thing they figured out quickly was your eating habits, they found you to be very picky about what you ingested. Most of the time you only ate meat in small quantities, and you always seemed to hoard it in your room, wrapped up in tiny cocoons for safe keeping. Seemingly you refused to eat anything other than meat, but despite being picky you were open to try a lot of things, normally ending up hating it, but you tried it.

It started to result in you biting everything, no matter what it would be. Sometimes it seemed like you didn't fully understand what was edible and what was not. Their biggest shock came from you starting to nibble on them. It became a fixation of yours, and despite them always swatting you away, you kept going at it. Price has too many bite marks shaped perfectly from your teeth.

Soap was sceptic about your appearance first, intrigued but sceptic. He quickly warmed up to it, however, when he realized how useful it could be to have 6 arms, or useful to him that you had them. He started using you as a sort of coat rack, getting you to hold things for him while he's working. If he was practising his skills at disarming a bomb, he'd get you to hold his tools, if he was writing reports, he'd get you to hold the next ones ready, so it all went smoother. He even got you to hold his art supplies for him whenever he wanted to draw in his downtime.

You didn't really mind it, wanting to follow him around anyway, and this way you would be useful to him. You even learnt a few things watching him work, and watching him paint was oddly relaxing. He didn't even mind when you asked him to explain what he was doing, he could get very passionate once you got him started.

Price and Ghost were more interested in your abilities in the field. You were fast, agile, and dexterous, with a patience that's unmatched. You even beat Ghost when it came to sitting still, he held the record to be the best sniper on the team, having the patience of a mountain, yet when it was put to the test, you managed to beat his time by a lot.

Price always keeps a close eye on you, not wanting to admit that he's slightly afraid of you. Even though over time they've got it documented what your abilities included, you keep surprising them. He once saw you playing with a cat, seemingly having a lot of fun, until the cat got annoyed and bit you. The cat managed to draw blood...it died from poison 10 minutes later. He's always been extra wary of you after that, making sure not to touch your wounds directly if you got injured in battle.

Once you start integrating yourself into their group, their acceptance of you becoming easier and easier to get, you also start some gift giving adventures. It was mostly Ghost at first, but occasionally you'd bring the rest things as well. The problem was that the things you brought him were...dead insects...dead animals...things that in your mind were excellent gifts because you were helping with keeping him fed, right?

He did really not view it like that, and when he found a dead rabbit, wrapped up nice and tight in a cocoon, placed neatly on his desk, he snapped at you. In the middle of his yelling you ran, to where they never found out, you became like a ghost, though the subtle hints that you were still around were there.

You kept out of sight for a few days, despite how much they tried to call you forth. Ghost always had this eerie feeling that when he turns you would be sitting creepily on the ceiling in the corner, but you're never in view. He even started feeling a little guilty for snapping at you, but he really did not like to dispose of dead animals every other day.

When you finally came back, it wasn't without a peace offering, and when you stood in front of him, holding out a little cocoon for him, he could only sigh. He accepted it reluctantly but found that there were no dead animals inside it, instead there were little trinkets that you had found. Mostly things he couldn't use, but there was one thing that stood out to him, a mask of his that he could've sworn he lost, yet you had somehow found it.

When he seemed a lot happier with this kind of gift, then you did too, your mood drastically improved, and you kept bringing him more. Though he still could find it to be an annoyance when it was a bunch of junk, it was better than dead insects, and when you looked so happy afterwards, who was he to complain.

Even if you were different, nearing the end of the experiment, none of them could deny that they had come to love your little quirks. Your presence had come to be expected around base, your helpful manner, your mischievous behaviour, adding something to their work life that they've come to quite enjoy.

And when you came running, half in tears, begging them to not send you back to your old handlers...well...it only took one glance between each other to have the quiet collective agreement, that they were going to do anything, to keep you right here with them.

#noctmoon talks #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #tf141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #tf141 #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod #cod mw2 #😎Anon #noctmoon fics

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sunmoonjune · 2 years

Text

in their loving hands

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru (poly!)

warnings: minors dni!! blood, death, gore, cursing, possible sexual scenarios (no actual smut), mafia, fluff, minor angst and hurt/comfort, slowburn, mentions of cheating (reader is afraid of being a home wrecker), probably ooc gojo an geto tbh, insecurity, mentions of being followed/chased, reader is nearly attacked on more than one occasion

summary: mafia! single fathers/kindergarten teacher! au (this fic has so many tropes in it haha!!) found family!au for mother’s day anyone? You’re the sweet teacher to Nanako and Mimiko, the twin daughters of the two strongest mafia leaders in Japan. What happens when they set their sights on you?

word count: 18.8k

a/n: if this crashes on Tumblr, it’s also on my ao3! my username is the same as this one! listen... satosugu own my heart and I can’t handle their canon relationship so this is what happens - I write fluff to cope :( anyway this fic is basically just me self-inserting myself into satosugu with an extra side of found family with nanako and mimiko (they deserved better). lol enjoy! also ik gojo wasn’t really one of the girl’s father figures in canon, but shut up I love found family dynamics okay

ao3 link

It’s a cold, winter evening when you decide you need to move apartments.

The heat went out three nights ago, and you swear you’ve begun losing feeling in your toes. Curled into a tight ball under a mountain of blankets, you attempt to maintain as much body heat as possible. Your tiny, decrepit apartment isn’t in the nicest area of town, so the technicians won’t come to fix the heater for a few more days.

It’s practically falling apart at the seams - your place. The wallpaper is nearly peeling, the lights flicker when turned on and there’s always a wet smell lingering, no matter how many candles you light. In fact, you insist there’s mold in your run-down bathroom, but your landlord thinks you’re crazy.

You’d love to move.

In fact, you’d give anything for a nice apartment - no, even a decent apartment would do. Just one with working plumbing and working door locks would do. You could only imagine how nice it would be to not have to worry about a drunk neighbor accidentally barging through your front door in the early hours of the morning.

Sadly, you can only dream.

For now anyway.

A new apartment costs more than you can afford. The only reason you stay in this dingy apartment building is that it’s all you can sustain on a teacher’s salary. The price of rent in Japan is high, especially in the heart of Tokyo. As is, you’re lucky to be able to pay for your current apartment without a roommate or two.

Being a kindergarten teacher wasn’t the original plan, but it’s the one you fell in love with. You had gone to university under an engineering degree - outrageous, right? Somewhere along the line, you ended up working at a daycare on the weekends to help pay for classes.

It’s there that you fall in love with teaching. The kids all clambered over each other when you came in to work, crying out in excitement when their favorite caretaker finally arrived. They called out your name with wide smiles, holding up their arms in the hopes of being picked up.

During story time, there was often a struggle between the children to decide who got to sit in your lap. In fact, you’d often have to switch every few minutes to avoid the children's teary eyes.

You started looking forward to the weekends; waiting in anticipation for the gooey smiles and youthful, bright eyes of your group of children. It quickly became the favorite part of your week. Getting to see the wonder in their eyes whenever you showed them something new never ceased to bring a grin to your cheeks.

By the time you graduated, you had decided to return to school to get your teaching degree. Your parents had been furious. Why would you throw away a well paid career in engineering for a teaching job?

It was hard to explain.

When you first went into university, you’d picked your major based on what your parents had wanted. In high school, you were an amazing chemistry student. You enjoyed the science, and your parents encouraged this. A career in STEM would have made them proud, so you chose chemical engineering in the hopes of continuing their happiness. Besides, your brother had been an engineer. Everything you chose to do had to at least match his achievements, or else you'd just be falling short of his success.

Only after graduating, were you able to finally pursue something you were happy to do.

And being a kindergarten teacher truly did make you happy. Sure, it didn’t pay as well as an engineering job, but at least you were pursuing a career that you enjoyed. It was better than being stuck in a job you hated for the rest of your life.

Besides, the wide, bright smiles of your small group of students was usually worth the pain. Seeing the overjoyed grins and hearing their happy giggles as they worked together on an art project made your heart swell. Especially the elated laughter that came from a certain pink-haired boy.

Said child was currently seated in your lap, with a yellow crayon clutched in his fist as he drew on a piece of paper seated on the table before you. Yuuji had won the battle of rock, paper, scissors between him and Nobara, who had pouted fiercely after losing. Though before you could soothe the girl, Yuuji had squeezed her tight in a hug and promised to let her cuddle after he finished his drawing. Nobara faked a gag, pushing Yuuji away with a complaint of ‘cooties!’

Your heart squeezed at Yuuji’s generosity. Of course, you weren’t surprised - Yuuji was a bright kid with a father who raised him right.

Nanami Kento was a good friend of yours. The two of you grew up side by side, drawing in the dirt under the playground’s slide when the other kids didn’t want to play with you. You had always told Nanami he should play with the others, but he insisted on staying by your side. None of the other children wanted to play with the ‘weird, foreign kid’ who barely spoke Japanese. However, Nanami always stayed. He sat by your side and listened to your softly uttered stories of fantasy adventures you read in your books.

It was you who helped raise Yuuji alongside Nanami, after his wife passed away a few years back. Nanami had been devastated. Yuuji was too young to remember, but his mother had been sick for a long time. She’d never fully recovered after giving birth to him, and eventually passed away less than a year after.

Since Nanami worked a full time job to help provide for his son, you helped take care of Yuuji when you weren’t on campus for grad school. You spent most nights falling asleep with a children’s cartoon on the television, and a pink-haired toddler in your grasp. Nanami would come home to the two of you asleep on the couch. He’d pry his son away from your protective grasp, laying the boy to sleep in his own bed before gently waking you.

Most nights, you’d fall asleep in his spare bedroom after he insisted that you stay the night rather than walk back to your dorm in the dark.

It was no secret that Yuuji was one of your favorites. Though you kept it well hidden from the other children, Nanami could tell your honey-filled smiles were always a tad brighter for his son.

Though, there were two other students that were slowly climbing the ranks to become your favorite.

And their unreasonably attractive fathers had nothing to do with it, you swear.

Nanako and Mimiko were two sweet young girls who’d been introduced to your kindergarten class a few weeks late. They’d been nervous at first, clutching each other’s hands and hiding behind the legs of their long-haired father. You'd tried desperately not to stare at the gorgeous man before you, but his silky, dark hair and soft smile had immediately caught your eye. He was so tall, with wide shoulders and strong biceps wrapped under a tight, black dress shirt. You could have sworn you almost started drooling. The hint of ink under the sleeves had you aching to pull the shirt away from his skin, but you suppressed those provocative thoughts.

It was hardly appropriate to think those things in front of children, after all. Even so, he was a father of two of your students - probably in a relationship at that!

Shaking off the haze, you approached the man with Yuuji still in your arms. The boy had his arms wrapped around your neck as you sat propped up on your hip. He was starting to get too big to be held like this, but Yuuji insisted every time.

Setting Yuuji on the floor, you nudged him in the direction of Megumi, one of Yuuji’s closest friends. You smiled as you watched him race toward the darker haired boy, and let out a giggle as Megumi’s blank stare turned toward his friend. Despite the lack of emotion on his face, Megumi couldn’t stand to be away from his friend for long.

The man before you watched you gaze at your students. The fond smile on your lips had him allowing a soft one of his own to raise the corners of his lips.

When you turned back to the Adonis of a man before you, you greeted him softly. “Hello! Are you the father of the two new students?”

He stepped forward a little, difficult with the small, chubby fists grasping onto his pant legs. A little chuckle left his lips at their shy demeanor before he replied.

“I am.” Dear god, his voice nearly made you shiver. It was deep and coated in sugar. You wanted to drown in it, if that was even possible.

“Sorry for registering the girls late, by the way,” He continued. “They weren’t quite ready to take that step yet.”

You shake your head. “It’s alright! All children have different learning curves - I wouldn’t want to push them before they were ready.”

Geto’s eyes seem to soften even further.

“I’m Geto,” he provides, “Suguru Geto, and these are my girls: Nanako and Mimiko.”

He attempts to usher the girl’s out from behind his legs, but they stubbornly cling on. You smile, used to the cautious demeanor of some of the other students. Crouching down, you rest your weight on your toes and make yourself a bit smaller so as not to scare the new faces.

“Hello,” you softly utter. Your voice is hushed, just above a whisper but it’s filled with a sweetness Geto can’t quite describe. You introduce yourself to the two girls, softly uttering your name so both they, and Suguru, can hear.

“I’m going to be your teacher this year,” you happily provide. “I hope we’ll get along well!” The two young girls poke a head out from behind their father, and you almost giggle when a face appears from either side of his legs. It’s almost comical how in tune they are with each other.

“Twins?” You look up to Geto, who nods gently. You respond with a gentle hum, before shifting your attention back to the girls. They study you warily, with their small fists still clutching on to their father’s dress pants. The dark haired girl clutches a plush between the fingers of her other hand. Eyeing the plush, you shift tactics.

“Ah, Kuromi,” you gently motion to the plush. “I have one too!” You pull a keychain from your pocket, where you keep the keys for your classroom alongside those for your apartment. Attached to the keychain is a little My Melody plush, her pink character matching the black of the Kuromi plush between the girl’s fingers.

The girl’s eyes dart to the plush keychain, before they look back at her own. Her eyes are still a little worried, but your wide smile and gentle eyes coax her to move. She looks between her father and her sister once, before she shyly toddles on her feet. Slowly, she leans out from behind her father and drags her twin with her. The light-haired girl clutches her sister’s hand, eyes wide as they approach.

The dark-haired twin is the first to approach you. She reaches out when she stops at your feet. At your crouched height, you’re still taller than her, but she comes close to passing over your head. She gently grasps the keychain between her fingers, and you let her.

“We match!” You happily giggle. “See?”

You hold the keychain next to her plush, letting the characters bump together. “Two pieces of a puzzle!”

The girl lets out a soft giggle as you wiggle the plushies in your hands. It’s hesitant, but you can tell she’s warming up to you. Your heart squeezes at the notion.

“What's your name, Angel?”

She rocks on her heels, still a little shy but opens her mouth to respond anyway. “Mimiko,” she utters gently. Her tiny voice almost has you audibly cooing, but you settle for another warm smile instead.

Her twin sister wobbles next to Mimiko, so you turn your attention to her. She appears a little less shy, with bangs falling into her curious eyes and a shirt filled with bright red strawberries.

“And what about you, Pumpkin?” You address her. “What’s your name?”

“Nanako,” she quietly provides.

“Those are beautiful names!” You softly cheer. “I think you’ll fit right in with the others! I’ve been looking for two strong girls to help me out with the plushie closet. Do you think you can help me take care of them?”

Their eyes light up. With furious nods, they take another step forward. Quick agreements fall from their lips and you smile in victory. Standing from your crouched position, you hold your hands out for the girls to grab on to. Despite their previous hesitance, both girls reach to grab a hand and clutch a few of your fingers between theirs.

When you turn to face Geto again, you’re nearly taken aback by the sweet look on his face. He’s utterly smitten with how you treat his daughters. So gentle and kind, taking initiative to bring up their interests in order to help break them out of their shell. Geto swears he’s already falling. Not to mention, you were so breathtakingly beautiful. Suguru knows that Satoru is going to have a field day when he meets you.

Letting a shy smile of your own overtake your face, heat rises to your cheeks as you remember their gorgeous father.

“Thank you,” Geto utters earnestly. Not everyone would be so delicate with his girl’s shy demeanor. He can’t thank you enough.

“It’s nothing,” you answer. “They deserve to progress at their own pace. I’d never make them do something they don't want.” Geto can tell you mean it, sincerity filling your eyes with a stubbornness lingering behind them.

He nods before returning his attention to his daughters. He crouches this time, matching his daughter’s gazes as he muses, “Daddy’ll be back in a few hours, alright? Can you be good for your Sensei while m’gone?”

His voice is filled with sugar. The two girls nod strongly, letting go of your hands to rush forward to throw themselves into their fathers arms. His wide, strong arms come up to wrap around their little bodies. Pulling them into his chest, a grin on his lips, he presses a kiss to each of their cheeks before he stands. The girls return to your side, each taking a hand once more. You smile sweetly back down at them with a coo on your lips.

“Two o’clock, yeah?” Geto asks.

“Two o’clock,” you confirm the pick-up time.

“My partner might be the one picking them up, is that alright?”

Your heart sinks in your chest for a moment - of course he’s taken. A beautiful man like him - how could he be single? It was wishful thinking on your part anyway.

Shuddering off the lingering disappointment, you shake your head. “Not at all! What’s their name? I’d like to confirm they’re leaving with the proper person, of course.”

Geto hums, a throaty sound that rushes through your skin despite trying to hold it back. “Satoru Gojo. You can’t miss him - white hair, bright blue eyes. You’ll know him when you see him.”

He laughs as he finishes, which prompts you to let out a giggle at the description.

“Alright, I’ll let the other teachers know. Thank you for telling me!”

Geto nods in response. He sends a last look to the girls before he turns and heads back to his car - his nice car. The solid black Jaguar sits at the curb, the sunlight hitting the paint. Oh god, the thought of him driving that car does horrible things to your mind.

Shaking your head again, you curse yourself for thinking about a taken man like that.

Looking down at the girls, you giggle again at their wide eyes looking up at you.

“Okay! Who wants to watch a Disney movie while we start our next art project?”Their delightful squeals of agreement fill your ears as you head back towards the classroom with their hands clutching yours.

You think God must be trying to spite you.

First, they send one of the most attractive men you've ever seen to your classroom, stealing the breath straight from your lungs. Only to then reveal, that he was taken.

Then, this.

If Suguru Geto was an Adonis in human form, then this man had to be created by Aphrodite herself.

He stands leaned against another unreasonably attractive car. His white BMW is parked on the curb, his body leaned against it with a pair of round, black sunglasses covering his eyes. He’s here early, so he waits for a few minutes to pass before he heads up the walkway towards the school.

The voices of excited children reach his ears as he nears the courtyard. When he peeks around the corner, he’s met with the sight of you. You’re crouched in the center of a pile of toddlers, their bodies leaned over each other in an effort to get closer. There’s a grin on your lips as you animate the different voices from a children’s book in your grasp. Gojo is surprised to see that Nanako is sitting in your lap, her body turned outward so she can see the book you’re reading from. Her back is pressed against your chest, and your hands are wrapped around her waist so she doesn’t fall when she shifts. You’re holding onto the book in her lap, occasionally spinning it around to show pictures to the other students.

Nanako swings her feet as she listens, a habit Gojo knows she picked up from him. Instead of interrupting like he usually would to announce his presence, Gojo holds back - choosing to instead watch the scene before him a moment longer.

Geto had mentioned the pretty kindergarten teacher that had gone out of her way to make their daughters feel welcome, but Gojo had no idea he’d be this taken aback. The sunlight hits your features in a way that makes Gojo think you look like an angel, gracing the world with your light and kindness.

He lingers outside the courtyard, waiting for your story to finish before he enters. While he waits, Gojo recognizes a familiar face approaching the same school.

“Oi, oi - Nanami, Nanami!” Gojo cheers at the sight of his old friend. Nanami surpasses a roll of his eyes, used to his friend’s antics. He had forgotten he’d recommended your school to Gojo a few weeks back, when his elder had mentioned enrolling the girls in kindergarten.

At the commotion, you raise your head from the book. When you meet the gaze - well, glasses - of the tall, silver-haired at the gate, you’re once again stricken.

Seriously, where do these gorgeous men keep coming from? It feels like you’ve ripped a page from one of the romance mangas you read, and dropped yourself in as the main character.

He’s tall, is your first thought, probably taller than Geto. He's less broad, yet still incredibly toned. You can’t help running your eyes from head to toe, taking him in. Gojo isn’t impervious to the look, letting a barely concealed smirk rest on his features.

Sucking in a short gasp, you realize this must be Satoru Gojo as Geto had mentioned. God really must hate you - throwing these beautiful men at your feet, but not giving you a chance with any of them. Not that you were secure enough in your looks to approach them anyway.

Yuuji leaps to his feet from his position at your side, racing towards the gate with a cry of “Otousan!”

"Careful!” You call as Yuuji races towards his father. Nanami crouches in his suit, allowing the pink ball of energy to crash into him. A fond smile covers Nanami’s features, one that often isn’t seen by many.

You stand from the small chair you’ve been seated on, setting down the book and assuring the kids you’ll be back. Gathering Nanako and Mimiko’s hands, you help guide them towards the gate Yuuji had opened.

The girls follow wordlessly, already at ease in your presence; a feat that doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

When you reach the gate, you smile as Yuuji has turned to address the white haired man with a cry of “Gojo-sensei!”

When Gojo replies with an equally excited “Yuuji-kun!” you start connecting dots. Nanami had mentioned his son taking jujutsu lessons from an old friend. After watching the last Olympics, Yuuji had taken an interest in the sport and Gojo had offered to show the kid the basics. Nanami was reluctant, but ultimately trusted Gojo to take care of his son.

You hadn’t realized Nanami was close to Gojo nor Geto, and you wonder why he hadn't mentioned them before.

When you reach the gate with the girls, Gojo shifts his attention from chatting excitedly with Yuuji. You can't see his eyes from behind his glasses, but even so, his gaze has your breath caught in your throat.

Talking to pretty people is hard.

“Ahh, you must be my Mochis’ pretty sensei,” Gojo sweetly hums. “Suguru mentioned you.”

At the thought of either man finding you attractive, heat rises to your cheeks and you awkwardly shift your gaze away.

“So you must be Gojo, then?” You question with hot skin and now sweaty palms. You hope the girls don’t notice.

A pleased hum leaves the tall man. “I am indeed.”

Nanami’s eyes shift from your form to Gojo’s. They narrow and scrutinize Gojo’s lax form and your wobbly knees. A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he shifts Yuuji onto his hip.

“Geto-san mentioned you might be here to pick up the girls.”

At their mention, the girls release your hands, shifting to move to their father’s side. Gojo audibly coos as he crouches to bring his toddlers into his arms. They each curl into one of his sides, and Nanako emits a “Yuck!” as Gojo presses a wet kiss to each of their cheeks.

You almost chuckle at the interaction. When Gojo stands, he has each girl on a hip, supporting their weight with a single hand each. You're mesmerized by his muscles, wondering how he could easily lift and carry two toddlers with no struggle.

Nanami’s cough interrupts your thoughts and you have to blink harshly to break your focus on Gojo’s pecs.

“Kento-kun,” you address your friend, “You didn’t tell me you know Gojo-san or Geto-san.”

A hum is heard from the blonde’s chest. “I wasn’t aware they would be enrolling the girls in your class,” he replies easily.

“Still,” you bump his empty hip with yours, “any friend of yours, is a friend of mine, Kento.”

Gojo watches your interaction with careful eyes, trying to understand your relationship with his former kouhai. Shifting his daughters’ weight on his hips, Gojo leans forward a bit.

“Yeah, Kento-kun~” Gojo mimics, “You didn’t tell me you had such cute friends.”

Nanami isn’t able to resist a roll of his eyes this time. A giggle is heard from you, and Gojo grins at his success.

“Don’t you have to get back to work, Gojo?” Nanami huffs, eager to end the conversation.

With a childish pout that causes Nanako and Mimiko to giggle, Gojo whines at Nanami’s rejection. Mimiko reaches out to press her finger against her father’s puffed cheeks, squealing when Gojo turns to nip at it. Nuzzling his nose into Mimiko’s, your heart fills with warmth as you watch father and daughter interact.

Nanako, clearly jealous, whines and pushes her hands against her father’s cheeks. She pulls Gojo away, rubbing her own forehead against his larger one. Gojo coos at her jealousy, leaving butterfly kisses on his other daughter.

After a moment, you manage to interrupt once their interaction is finished. “It was nice to meet you, Gojo-san! Thank you for trusting me with your daughters.” You incline your body into a small bow, which Gojo smiles at. You’re so soft and polite; he can see why Suguru has already taken interest.

“You too, Sweets!” Gojo replies, “Thank you for taking care of them!”

You incline your head again as Gojo turns to leave. Before he gets too far, Nanako and Mimiko lean over his shoulders, looking over at you.

“Bye, Sensei!” They call, waving their hands as they retreat. “See you tomorrow!”

You wave as they disappear into Gojo’s car, giggling at their behavior. Who would have thought the shy girls from that morning would open up so quickly?

When Gojo finally ducks into the car and it starts pulling away from the curb, Nanami turns to you. His features are completely neutral when he speaks.

“You want to fuck him, don’t you?”

“Nanami!”

You quickly cover Yuuji’s ears to shield them from his father’s vulgar language. “Not in front of the kids, Kento!” Yuuji’s confused eyes shift between your lips and his father’s, trying to decipher your words.

“You were eyeing him like a piece of meat.” Nanami says plainly.

“I was not!” You defend, hands still covering Yuuji’s ears. You stroke the boy’s hair in an effort to appear nonchalant, but you can’t believe Nanami caught you.

“I can only imagine how you eye-fucked Geto-san, if that’s how you were looking at Satoru.”

“Nanami - please!” You beg, eyes pleading for your friend to end your misery.

“Alright, alright.” He relents. “We’re not done with this conversation, though.”

“Oh, yes we are.”

A grunt is all that’s heard from your friend as you finally take your hands off Yuuji’s ears. The boy’s eyes are curious as they travel from his father to you and back. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as you run your fingers across your scalp in an agitated manner.

A beat of silence passes before Yuuji speaks.

“Otousan, what does ‘fuck’ mean?”

Over the next few weeks, you grow closer to both Gojo and Geto. Some days, only one of them is able to drop off and pick up their girls. Others, one picks up and one drops them off. On very rare days, the both of them are waiting at the gate of the courtyard.

These days are the hardest.

Not in a bad way, of course. No - they would never be bad. Instead, you find yourself having an incredibly difficult time making eye contact with either of them as they tower over you with gentle smirks. Well - Gojo’s face sported a smirk, while Geto’s eyes crinkled into half moons with a rare, genuine smile.

They should have been intimidating. In all manners of the word, they should be. Wearing black suits with luxury logos and driving fancy sports cars; Geto’s tattoos are often poking out of the edges of his clothing, and you’re sure Gojo is hiding a few as well. If you had been strangers, just their height would be enough to daunt you. But now that you’d gotten to know them, their towing figures only made obscene thoughts of other uses of such staggering height, race through your head.

More than once, you’ve caught yourself shaking the thoughts away. It was definitely not appropriate for a teacher to be thinking this of their students’ fathers. Especially fathers who were already in a relationship.

A relationship that’s quite obvious, you’ve discovered.

Gojo is not shy with his affection, often draping himself over Geto’s body when the two of them arrive at pick up times. You knew he never hid his affection for their daughters: pressing wet kisses to their cheeks and blowing raspberries on their bellies. But watching Gojo with Geto is different. Gojo’s silly side is still glaringly obvious, with the way he loudly boasts and tugs at Geto’s arms. It's in the softer moments - ones where the two don’t think anyone is watching - Gojo shows a softer side.

It’s in the glances the two share with each other as they watch the girls parade towards them, with stories about their day and their latest art project in their fists. Gojo is uncharacteristically soft for Geto.

It’s so hard to tell, going unnoticed by most, but Gojo’s muscles are relaxed around his partner. His actions are so much softer and his movements are easy-going. Genuine smiles seem to fall too easily from his lips when he watches Geto crouch to hoist his girls onto his hips.

Geto is no different. His shoulders are lax, when you often see them tense on their own. The darker, cold look that often covers his features when he’s alone, is replaced with a gentle, barely-there smile as he watches Gojo and their daughters. You don’t know of the similar look the two share when both their gazes settle on you, but there’s still plenty of time to share.

Their relationship is one you crave.

Not necessarily between them - though you’d give an arm and a leg to be between them. It’s their domesticity you long for. Relationships are hard, and you hate ‘the talking stage.’ You want to jump to a well-worn, practiced relationship, and skip the slow conversations and hesitance.

Though you can’t see his eyes, you know Gojo looks at Geto and their daughters like they’re his world. And you know they are.

God, what you’d give for a relationship like that.

Geto is always the first to bend to meet the girls, letting their little bodies crash into his wide chest. He lets out a hearty, genuine laugh as they squirm and rant about the activities they completed during class. Gojo always lets his partner go first, a fond smile on his face as he watches their interaction. When Geto stands, the girls turn to their other father, vibrant smiles transferring to him.

Gojo coos and squeezes their cheeks, pressing wet kisses on them as the girls squeal out protests. Geto’s soft eyes follow him, a look on his face you long to be the focus of.

On days like today, when the clouds are gray and rain is falling overhead, you escort the girls to their fathers with an umbrella guarding the three of you. Gojo and Geto are waiting by the car, a similar umbrella shielding the two of them. They’ve taken Geto’s car today, the black material blending in with the gloomy weather.

When you’re close enough, the two approach. Gojo holds the umbrella out so Geto can bend to grab Nanako and Mimiko. They’re the last to be picked up today, something that has become routine. Geto mentioned having to leave work to grab them from class, so you had offered to stay back and take care of them so the two men could finish work. You weren't sure where either of them worked, as they always played off the question when asked.

Most days, when class finished, you helped the other students to their parents. You give Yuuji a final tight hug and promise to see him in the morning, before you turn back to the twins. You often turn on a Disney movie, and sing and dance as you wait for their fathers to finish work. By the time the movie ends, it’s usually around their scheduled pick up time.

Today, you’ve planned to hang back at the classroom and finish up some paperwork before you head back to your own apartment. In a bad break of procrastination, you’d let assignments and projects pile up, and now you had a mountain of papers to file through.

You’re drawn from your misery to the sound of Geto’s deep voice.

“Are you headed home soon, Pretty? We can drop you off, if you’d like?”

Heat rose to your cheeks at the nickname. Geto had taken to calling you ‘Pretty,’ after Gojo had spilled that Geto had referred to you as such on the day you first met. You don’t think it means as much to him as it does you, but you relish in the sweetness of the nickname for as long as you can.

Shaking your head softly, you shift on your slowly damping sneakers. “No, S’alright. I’ve got some more work to finish up before I can head back.”

“We haven’t kept you have we?” Geto questions, worriedly. He’s standing now, a girl on each hip just as Gojo carries them. You’re once again stunned at their strength, watching the muscles in his forearms contract as he shifts Nanako around when she wiggles.

Rapidly shaking your head, you huff out a denial. “Even if you had, I love spending extra time with these troublemakers.”

You finish your exclamation with a gentle pinch of Mimiko’s cheek, stepping closer to Geto’s warm body to do so. The dark haired girl giggles, swatting at your hand with the one which isn’t clutched to her Kuromi plush. You pull away with a giggle of your own, playfully grabbing for Mimiko’s hand. Nanako, feeling jealous, lets out a squeal of her own and leans forward in Geto’s arms.

Geto moves to prevent her from falling, but you’ve already moved to grab the brunette girl. His heart thuds for a moment as he thinks his daughter may tip over. Your body slides in front of hers, letting Nanako’s weight rest against your chest when she finally falls forward. You brush your hand against Geto’s arms as you slide your hand underneath her thighs. Taking Nanako into your arms, with her body clinging to yours, you send a soft glance to Geto. ‘Sorry...’ your eyes apologize. You didn't think she’d pitch herself from her father’s arms to reach you. You shift her weight to rest against you, so you can hold her on your side while your other hand covers both of you with the umbrella.

Gojo continues to watch the interaction with a soft smile, eyes shifting from his daughters to the silent communication passed between his partner and you. His heart skips a beat at the interaction. The three of you already know each other so well in the span of only a month or two.

“Nanako-chan,” you hum. “You have to be more careful, I don’t want you to get hurt!”

You press the girl closer to your chest with the gentle scolding, swaying back and forth on your feet like a mother would. Gojo shares a long glance with Suguru at the motion. There’s something in their eyes you can’t quite decipher, but you know the two of them are sharing an intimate, wordless conversation.

From your arms, Nanako sticks her tongue out at her twin and giggles when Mimiko whines.

“Otousan!” Mimiko whines, “I want a hug from Pretty-Sensei too!” You assume the twins picked up the nickname from their long-haired father.

Another laugh falls from your lips, tossing your head back when Mimiko gently tugs on the loose hair from her father’s half bun. You shift your hip towards Gojo offering the brunette twin to her father, before opening your arms for Mimiko. She yelps in delight, swinging her arms around your neck as she moves into your arms. There’s a warmth slowly filling your heart as she squeezes you tight. It seeps into all the cracks and crevices that you hadn't known were there, and slowly starts pulling at the stitches. Tightening the strings and pulling pieces back together, the love the twins have for you will never be replaced by another.

Geto leans into Gojo’s side, humming when Gojo presses a kiss to his temple. They watch as you rub your nose against Mimiko’s with a grin. Whispering amongst yourselves, Geto watches Mimiko squeeze her eyes shut into little half moons and pat your cheeks with her hands as she giggles. He deposits Nanako in Gojo’s arms with a fond sigh and brushes Gojo’s hair away from his eyes.

When the two of you finish giggling, Gojo calls out to his dark-haired daughter, “Alright, Mochi - your sensei has work to finish, so we have to leave now.”

Mimiko frowns, huffing out a sigh as she turns to her fathers. “It’s alright, Mimiko-chan! We’ll have plenty of fun together tomorrow, remember?”

The girl nods firmly as her eyes sparkle. She nuzzles into your chest once more, causing another bout of warmth to sweep over you. Then, she wiggles until you set her down onto the concrete beneath you. Mimiko runs on her chubby legs towards Geto, who swoops down once more to pick her up.

“You’re sure you don’t want a ride, Pretty?” Geto muses as he turns to you once more.

Gojo hums in agreement. “It can be dangerous walking around here, ‘specially at night. Y’gonna be okay getting home on your own later, Sweets?”

Another wave of heat rises to your ears and a shiver runs down your spine as both men lower their gazes to you. You almost forget you’re standing in front of your classroom for a moment.

“S’alright!” You grin. “I’ll probably take a train home in an hour or two, so you don't have to worry.” You’re more than flattered that they worry about you at all.

Gojo and Geto share a knowing look, an agreement passing between themselves. They know about the kinds of people that roam this area at night. It might be a grade school by day, but all sorts of unsavory people stalk the streets after dusk.

Geto huffs out a sigh, not so different from his daughter. “Fine - but you have to promise to text one of us when you make it back safe, okay?”

Gojo nods firmly in agreement, another lazy grin on his cheeks. It’s one that you see often, but it never fails to make you smile along with him. The three of you had exchanged numbers a few weeks ago, after you agreed to take care of the girls after hours. Gojo had immediately added you to a group chat that both men periodically spammed you in. You didn’t mind though. It was the first time you’d had close friends since you and Nanami met over twenty years ago.

Well, you guess your friendship with Nanami is filled with far less tension than the one you have with the boys. You’re sure the tension is one-sided, as Geto and Gojo are already in a committed relationship. Besides, you can’t imagine yourself being the one who breaks them apart. You’re many things - but a home-wrecker is not one of them.

The attraction and longing you have for either man should remain buried, you had decided. Neither of them needed to know. You’ll move on eventually, you decide.

Nodding, you agree to text the group chat when you arrive home. With a final firm look from Geto, he turns to head back to the car parked by the curb. It’s still pouring, so you clutch your umbrella tight between your cold fingers. Gojo nudges your side with his hip, the one that’s unoccupied by Nanako.

“You better text us,” Gojo warns. You chuckle, already used to his light-hearted threats. The first time he’d dropped one, you’d been a little perturbed, but soon after you’d realized he only uses them when he’s concerned for you or the girls.

“I promise!” You mumble softly, nudging him back with your hip. You only manage to bump his thigh, as his legs are much longer than yours, but the sentiment is the same.

Gojo shakes his head fondly and hums in agreement. He shifts Nanako higher on his hip and clutches his umbrella in his other hand. Leaning in to look at you over the brim of his sunglasses, you breath catches at the slightest sight of his bright blue eyes. He hasn’t taken them off since the first moment you’ve met, but each glance of his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. You haven’t asked, but you understand it must be more complicated than he’s willing to share.

“And you’ll text us or Kento-chan if it gets too late?”

“’Course, Gojo-san,” you agree, huffing playfully as he parents you.

“I told you already, Sweets.” He playfully remarks. “Call me Satoru.”

You sigh happily, looking into the dark lenses of his glasses as your heart stutters.

“Get out of here before Nanako-chan freezes,” you mutter with heat in your cheeks. Gosh, do they love to make you flustered.

“Alright, alright,” Gojo laughs. He shifts away and begins to follow Geto to their car. His long legs look fantastic in the dark pants that cover his legs, and you find your eyes lingering on his back in the tight dress shirt he wears.

“We’ll be expecting your text, Sweets!” Gojo calls over his shoulder, throwing you a final glance before he disappears into the dark of Geto’s car.

Shaking your head with another light chuckle, you bring a hand up to wave them off. In a burst of found confidence, you manage to call out after him before he shuts the door.

“See you later, Satoru!”

Suguru’s eyes crinkle into a wide grin as he watches a starry-eyed look fall onto Satoru’s face when he shuts the door. He knows it will take days before Satoru gets over the sound of your sweet voice calling his name.

When Satoru settles into the passenger seat, Suguru nearly lets out a giggle at the wide-eyed, lovestruck look on his face. A bubbly feeling vibrates through the white-haired man’s form, filling him with incandescent happiness.

“She called me Satoru,” Gojo mumbles with awe in his voice. At the reminder, Geto does let out a chuckle, rubbing his knuckles against the blushing cheeks of his lover.

“Yeah, she did.” Geto confirms, a fond smile on his lips. His own heart throbs with a sense of longing. Geto wants to hear his name fall from your honeyed lips too.

Gojo starts, wonder still in his eyes, but determination in his voice: “She’s going to tear us apart, Suguru.”

“Oh, absolutely -” Suguru responds. “But you and I both know we’d let her.”

It’s hours later when you finally finish work. After the sun has disappeared from the sky and the moon shines brightly overhead, you huff a sigh of relief.

Placing all the work into their marked places, you stretch your back and groan when your spine cracks. It’s begun to ache, from your hunched position over your desk, but you know it would be worse if you’d done this work at home. You’d likely be too drawn to the comfort of your bed, which would only worsen your hunched position as you shuffle through student’s artwork and piles of paperwork.

When you inspect the front window, you grimace at the darkness that covers the courtyard. The clock at your right states that it’s almost midnight, and you wince in realization. You definitely had not planned to stay this late.

There's no more trains running at this hour, and you know Kento has long since put both himself and Yuuji to bed. He has to wake up early to drop off Yuuji and make it to work.

It shouldn’t be a problem, you muse hopefully. Your apartment isn’t that far from campus, anyway. You’ll text the boys when you get back, there’s no need to wake them this late.

It’s twenty minutes later, you realize just how wrong you’d been.

You’ve made it about six blocks from the campus when you hear footsteps behind you. They’re still decently far behind, at least thirty yards, but they’re still close enough to hear the sounds of boots meeting concrete. A chill makes its way down your spine, and you clutch your umbrella a little tighter. It’s still raining, so the sounds of the figure are hard to make out under the downpour of the rain.

It’s three blocks later, you realize they’re following you. When you increase speeds, so do the other set of steps; when you slow, they follow. So you take a few extra turns, hoping you’re just imagining the figure.

Your heart rate is elevated, the pulse thrumming in both your chest and your head. You can almost hear the beating in your ears. Thoughts are racing as you attempt to string together a plan to get away. Your fingers are numbing from the cold and rain, and they’re beginning to stiffen.

Throwing a quick glance over your shoulder, you nearly whimper at the size of the man trailing behind you. He’s massive - nearly a foot taller than you and definitely out measures you in strength too. His form is draped in a black hoodie, with the head drawn over to cover his features, and heavy boots cover his feet.

You suck in a breath and try to quicken your pace again. Legs shaking, you shift to turn down another street, hoping to lose him. Rain falls over the umbrella in downpours, drowning out the sounds of the surrounding environment. You grit your teeth with a clenched jaw and hurry your steps.

It’s a mistake.

Taking six steps, your eyes fall on the dead end of the alley facing you. Chest sinking, you can feel your heart in your throat. It’s a thick lump you can’t swallow.

You shake as you turn in an attempt to dash for the alley’s entrance, feet nearly sliding in the slick of the rain.

It’s too late.

The man is already standing at the entrance, form tall and sinister as he covers the light of the moon. You can’t make out any of his features, but you can nearly see the huff of his breaths against the night air. Your entire being trembles with a sinking fear, and your knees weaken. A sob is about to break from your chest, but you push it down with a heavy gulp.

Hands trembling, you reach for your bag. Fingers cold and shaking, you pull the strap from your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you want from me, but you can have whatever’s in the bag,” you shakily cry. Despite trying desperately to hold them back, there’s tears already falling from your eyes. “There’s money in there, just please let me go.”

The man takes a step towards you, and you shrink back. You stumble a bit, like a scared child, before righting yourself. You kick a crushed beer can as you back step. The sound clatters through the alley and you wince.

Fuck, you should have texted Gojo and Geto before you’d left. Your dead cell phone sits in your back pocket, the cold metal weighing on both your form and your consciousness.

You had never imagined things would go this way. Sure, your apartment wasn't in a super friendly area of Tokyo, but you’d never had problems before. The city lights were always too bright and there were always plenty of people meandering the streets. You guess the rain has sheltered the rest of the world for one, terrible moment.

The man chuckles - a menacing sound that churns your stomach and presses acid against your throat. Sharp lines cross his features, looking like stitches pressed across his pale skin. You can’t place the marks, but you’re certain you’ve seen them before.

“I don’t want the money, Girlie,” he grunts. You didn’t think your heart could sink any further.

“What do you think the Six-Eyes would do?” he muses, “when he finds their precious ‘Sweets,’ dead from their carelessness?” He moves, pulling a silver knife from the pocket of his jacket. It glints against the light of the moon, and you take another fearful step back.

A beat of recognition passes through your mind at the name, but there’s far too much adrenaline coursing through your body to make any connection. Your eyes haven’t left the knife, scenarios filtering through your conscious mind.

There’s so few options in which you leave this alley alive. He outweighs you in both strength and size, so you know a fight isn’t an option. Your only chance is to get around him and outrun him. You can only hope you make it to a corner store, where someone could help.

When he takes a step further, gross breath nearly touching your skin now, you tighten your grip on your bag. The knife is about to press into your skin, and you suppress a sob.

Then, in a quick burst of panic, you manage to swing the bag with all your strength. The man, having expected the fight, moves to block the ambush. However, you’re already moving. With all your weight, you crush the heel of your foot into the man’s pelvis before he can stop you.

He grunts, body curling inward for a moment, but you don’t stick around to find out his next move. You’re already running, slipping once against the slick concrete, before you’re sprinting as fast as you can.

The cold, night air hurts your lungs. You can’t remember the last time you’d run like this, and the ache in your legs says it’s been too long. No matter how harsh the pain in your calves, or the stinging in your chest, you keep pushing. Footsteps slap against the wet pavement as you race down the block.

You’ve long since ditched the umbrella. Instead the rain slaps against your skin in painful droplets. It soaks your hair and your clothes and settles uncomfortably on your skin. It’s cold and wet, and the tears soaking your cheeks blur your vision almost as much as the heavy rain.

Coughing down a sob, you push yourself a little further as the sounds of a shout and another set of footsteps sound somewhere behind you. You don’t turn to check, but you’re sure the man has given chase.

Sucking in another breath, you wince at the cramp already forming. You don’t slow down. With your heart in your throat, and a combination of rain and tears staining your cheeks, you keep running. There’s a light ahead, maybe a convenience store is still open at this late hour.

You can only hope.

“I’m stepping out, ‘Toru” Suguru mutters.

It’s too loud, and the flashing lights are giving him a headache. It’s one of their clubs. They’d dropped by on a routine check, showing face and collecting old debts. Eyes are constantly on his form as he and Satoru sift through the crowd. Though neither of them have enjoyed the club scene since having the twins, they both know they have to appear at least once a month to keep an eye on some of the higher ups. They can’t have people thinking they’re slacking off.

Satoru usually basks in the looks of awe and fear as he and Suguru part the crowd to make their way to the bar. They stand tall above the crowd and exude an aura of power. The flocks of people can’t meet his eyes - or well, the fabric covering them - as he smirks down at them. Satoru only wears the blindfold on mafia business. The glasses he keeps for simpler times; he enjoys using them to tease you. The heat in your cheeks and your inability to meet his barely-there glance brings a surge of pride to Satoru’s chest. He can feel the swell of butterflies fluttering in his stomach, so similar to the ones he gets when Suguru gives him a similar look - the bashfulness is, of course, harder to spot in his features though.

With tattoos on full display, the Six-Eyes clan mark is apparent on both men. The two powerful mafia leaders have been at the bar for nearly an hour now, and Suguru can’t shake the lingering feeling of anxiety from his head. Anxiously, Suguru rubs the end of the dragon tattoo climbing down his forearm. It stretches up his arm and descends down his shoulder and side, and Suguru can’t help but trace the tail end of the beast. The dark tattoo ends at his wrist, where he thumbs the ink.

There’s been something nagging at him since he and Satoru picked up the twins earlier that day.

It’s been hours since he’d tucked the girls in, swaddling their little bodies in blankets and pressing kisses to each of their foreheads. Both men had uttered soft ‘goodnights,’ before getting ready to head out on proper mafia business. Anxiousness settled in both their stomachs as they disappeared out the front door.

You hadn’t texted them.

A part of Suguru hopes that you were just too exhausted from work; you’d passed out as soon as you arrived home, so you’d forgotten to text. But he knows he’s wrong. You’d never forgotten to text before - always making a point to wish them goodnight and asking them to hug the twins for you. It’s a notion that usually brings warmth to Suguru’s chest, as he and Satoru share a meaningful smile and a soft kiss.

When the clock strikes midnight, Suguru decides he’s had enough.

He mutters to Satoru that he has to step out, before he’s shoving through the crowd of sweaty bodies to reach the door. It’s not difficult, the crowd parts to let him through, too fearful to get in his way.

Suguru could care less, all that’s on his mind is you.

Satoru knows his partner is concerned - he knows Suguru too well to miss the signs. Geto’s shoulders are too tense, even more so than they would be when dealing with mafia business. A frown is set on his lips and there’s a subtle crease in his eyebrows from where they’re furrowed.

There’s a similar weight on his chest too. Satoru has always been much better at hiding his emotions, the eccentric, playboy facade is sometimes all too easy to flash. The grim feelings welling in his chest are covered by an easygoing facade. Satoru prides himself on this ability, it’s fitting for his workplace. Suguru defaults to a cold expression that only Satoru can decipher.

Satoru lets his partner go, watching his back as he maneuvers through the throngs of people. He doesn’t follow - not yet. It’d be suspicious for them both to disappear suddenly. Satoru promises himself ten more minutes before he follows Suguru. The tightness in his chest won’t allow him any longer.

When Suguru emerges from the club’s exit, the cold of the night air meets his skin. He’s under an overhang, the building shielding him from the rain, but the freezing cold wind still causes goosebumps to settle under his skin. When the wind whips, a few droplets of rain splatter against his body, but he doesn’t mind.

Suguru has already pulled out his phone, dialing your number for the third time that night. He’d tried twice already, both when he’d left the house a few hours ago. He clutches the phone in his hand, grunting in frustration when he’s immediately sent to voicemail.

Pulling the phone from his ear, Suguru glares at the screen before hanging up. He tries once more, only to meet the same results before he tugs at his hair in frustration.

He yanks his hair from the sleek top knot it was pulled into, Suguru allows the strands to cover his face as he squeezes his eyes shut in frustration. Leaning back against the wall, his head falls back and presses against the hard bricks of the building.

The inside of Suguru’s mind is a mess. There’s too many scenarios racing from the far corners of his mind, some much darker than others. His heart beat picks up a notch, and Suguru can’t remember the last time he’s felt this panic. Sighing deeply through his nose, he takes a few heavy breaths to calm his frantic thoughts.

He decides he'll wait a few moments for Satoru before he starts looking for you. It can’t be hard to find your place, not with the kinds of information they have access to. They’ll be able to decide their next move once they confirm if you’re at your place.

Suguru is almost too lost in his thoughts to hear the first shout.

The rain is deafening, and his mind is far too loud to hear the sound. However, he’s shaken from the fog when the sound of feet slapping against the wet pavement start to get closer. He almost startles, grunting roughly in frustration. He doesn’t have time to deal with some crook coming after his title.

When he tunes into the sound of approaching footsteps, Suguru confirms two people are approaching. From the panicked, quick steps of the first, Suguru can tell the person is running from something. The second set of steps suggest that the first is being chased. Suguru confirms that the people haven’t seen him yet, before he steps out into the rain.

In the dark of the midnight hour, Suguru can’t make out any shapes from down the street. He stands under the downpour, letting the shine from a streetlight illuminate his form. Suguru isn’t quite sure why he’s stepped out, he usually wouldn’t interfere in trivial manners such as this. However, he’s in the mood to release some stress, and some lowlife scumbag chasing after a random citizen is a good excuse to rough someone up.

As the cold of the rain soaks his clothes, Suguru sets his shoulders back. The sound of footsteps gets closer, and he can make out the form of the first person. They’re panicked, Suguru can tell - they’re struggling to continue sprinting.

When they get a bit closer, Suguru can just barely see the soaked hair of the person’s form. It’s slicked against their forehead, dripping into their eyes and mixing with the tears that are leaking from their eyes. There’s a sob shaking from their lips. It’s shaky and anxious, stuttered through their heaving breaths.

There’s a moment of stillness for Suguru. The world goes quiet for just a single moment when the person’s form is revealed to his eyes. Their sobbing features and quivering lips strike a chord in Suguru’s heavy chest. Usually soft, gentle features have been distorted into those of panic and fear. The sweet sound of a usually happy voice is twisted into sobs.

When the moment passes, and the strength of the wind and rain is once again pushing against his skin, Suguru startles.

The face of the person he’s been aching for is revealed before him. His heart beats against his chest, and Suguru swears he can feel it in his throat. Hands ache to reach out for your form - to soothe the sobs exhaling from your lips and brush the tears away from your skin. Suguru’s whole being throbs at the sight of your face expressing such fear.

Before Suguru can make a move, your body is crashing into his form. In such panic, under the heavy storm of rain and blur of tears, you hadn’t seen his form under the street light. Your single track mind only wished to put as much space between you and your attacker. Lungs heaving and legs trembling, you collide with the form of the man in front of you.

There’s a hesitance, part of you wondering if your attacker had back up waiting. When your body rebounds from the stoic muscle of the form in front of you, you blubber. Tears still spilling over your cheeks and panting, there’s a moment where you don’t recognize him. Your brain is mush - only focused on escaping and surviving.

You sob louder, choking on a whimper when hands reach for your form. Shaking your head rapidly, you flinch from the arms outstretched before you, convinced it's another of the attacker’s friends. Suguru’s chest aches. He never wants to see that look again.

“M’sorry- M’so sorry,” you rapidly mumble. The words barely make sense as they’re rushed from your lips but you can’t slow down.

“Hey, hey-” a soothing voice rumbles. It’s familiar, the tone and deep gravel of the voice, but in your panic, there’s not enough working memory for your brain to recognize it.

“S’alright, Pretty Girl” the man continues, hands still outstretched and aching to soothe you. “Hey, s’me - it’s Suguru. Look at me, Pretty”

Suguru’s voice barely conceals a shake as your fearful body trembles. He's aching to comfort you - to take you into his arms and take on your burdens for his own. He’s only ever ached like this for one other, but it feels the same. An anxious bubble swells in his stomach, and he fears you won’t recognize him in your panic.

At the humming of his voice, you’re slowly brought from the haze. The more conscious part of your brain emerges from an anxious fog as it begins to remember the man before you. Shakily bringing your eyes upwards, you’re barely able to make out the sleek black hair that could only belong to one person. His mouth is set in a frown, but it’s twisted in something that looks like anguish.

It’s a look you haven’t seen on Suguru Geto.

“That’s it- look at me, Pretty Girl. You’re doing so good.”

Clutching your arms across your chest and body tucked inward to protect itself, you choke out a few syllables, “Su- Suguru?”

Geto’s heart throbs.

The first time you said his first name shouldn’t have been like this. Not when it’s filled with fear, your form drenched in rain and tears and clothes askew. He longs for a different setting, something warm and soft. Suguru longs to hear the sound of his name falling from your lips in that honeyed manner in which you speak to your friends.

“Yeah, s’me - it’s Suguru,” he hums. “What’s happened, Darling? You alright?”

There’s not enough time to stumble through an explanation. The sound of rapid approaching footsteps is enough to startle you; your attacker is finally catching up. You knew a kick to the groin wouldn’t keep him down for long, but you’d certainly hoped to put more distance between yourselves.

Acting purely on instinct, you immediately begin to move. The fear is still a sickening lump in your throat and it’s far too large to swallow. Ducking behind Suguru’s large form, you bury yourself in his back. His broad shoulders and muscular frame cover you almost completely. Your hands clutch the soaked material of his shirt, burying your face in his back in an attempt to hide yourself from the oncoming attacker. Even in the onslaught of rain, he still smells like Suguru - like warmth and comfort.

You squeeze your eyes as tightly as possible and grip Geto’s shirt in your fists until your knuckles begin to lose blood flow. Still shaking, you press yourself as close to Geto’s form - to safety - as you can. Your heart thunders in your chest, but Geto’s presence seems to soothe it, if only a fraction.

Suguru isn’t sure he can take much more of this.

With your frame completely pressed against his, Suguru’s heart jumps into his throat. God, does he wish more than anything to savor the press of your skin against his. Even under the rain and through the panic, Suguru’s mind is filled with thoughts of your body pressed against his and Satoru’s in hundreds of other scenarios.

However, he doesn’t have time for such thoughts.

Not with the approaching set of footsteps rapidly nearing your position.

Suguru squares his shoulders, setting them back to straighten his form and cover your form as best he can. One of his hands swings back, resting against your hip to press you against him. It’s a protective gesture - one that clearly shows he’s guarding you.

When the third form settles at the scene, there’s a snarl on his lips. He’s not panting as heavily as you had been, but it’s clear he’s sprinted to catch up. The man is still clutching his knife. It’s pressed tightly between his fingers, ready to strike.

“Geto Suguru,” the man growls.

Suguru doesn’t move.

His hand is still at your waist, but his form is tight and ready to pounce. At the slightest movement, Suguru is ready to lunge forward and rid you both of the attacker.

“You know me?” It’s less of a question than a statement. Most people know of Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru. Well - those who are aware of the mafia, anyway. The two crime lords are the strongest mafia leaders in Japan: the Sorcerer and the Six Eyes.

“Of course I know you,” the man spits. “But it’s not you I want.”

He gestures roughly with his knife to the form pressed against Geto’s body. You shudder, and press down another sob with great difficulty.

“Bossman wants the girl.”

“He can’t have her.” Geto is quick to answer. His voice is sharp and firm. There is no room for debate. Suguru’s eyes drift over the markings on the man’s barely visible skin and presses you closer. He identifies the assailant’s affiliation

“Tell Mahito that this girl is clan property now - no one goes near her, unless they want to deal with me-”

“Or me.”

The normally cooing voice of Satoru Gojo is now laden with anger and coated with ice. It’s sharp, uncharacteristic of Gojo. You can’t bring yourself to move from your stiff position at Geto’s back, but since your mind has begun to clear, it recognizes the voice of your white haired friend.

Satoru lets the door to the club fall shut behind him with a heavy slam. Stepping out into the rain, Satoru’s form radiates power. Even the rain seems to be apprehensive, barely touching his body as he strides to stand beside his partner. He stands tall, shoulder to shoulder with Suguru as the two glare down at the man who’d hunted you.

Gojo doesn’t allow the twinge of his heart to show on his features as he takes in your petrified form. He can see the white-knuckled grip you have on Geto’s shirt and the rapid rising and falling of your chest. The tears muddled on your cheeks blend with the rain, and Gojo almost wants to grab you to hide you in his own chest. Though, he knows you’re safe in Suguru’s hands. Geto would never let anything happen to you, Satoru knows. It’s the same way he knows he himself would never let anything touch you.

Satoru presses close to Suguru, allowing his form to overlap yours and cover the rest of your body from the prying eyes that attempt to pierce your skin. You can only shift a hand to clutch Satoru’s shirt in your other hand in thanks. You haven’t calmed from the oncoming panic attack, but knowing you’re safe buried behind the two brings you some comfort.

The man before you has to suppress a shudder at the sight of both clan heads. He barely stood a chance against just one, but now understands there’s little to no chance of his survival. Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto are fiercely protective of the ones they love. While your relationship may not be defined, it’s clear the two care for you beyond words.

The attacker shifts on his feet, ready to make a break for it, in the hopes of avoiding the oncoming fight. His cowardice is glaringly evident, even after his earlier threats.

“Satoru,” Geto mumbles, eyes hard and no emotion flickering behind them. “What happens when you disregard orders from the Six Eyes?”

His question may be addressed to Satoru, but they’re clearly directed to the now nervous form of the man in front of them. He shifts again, getting ready to lunge, but Satoru is quicker.

He’s faster than lightning, already at the man’s side and pressing his arm behind his back to incapacitate the attacker. You didn’t even feel him move, let alone pry your grip from his clothing. Satoru is nothing but gentle with you.

The man cries out in pain as Satoru muscles him to his knees.

“Why don’t you show this thug the strength of the Gojo clan?”

“With pleasure.”

A sinister smirk drags a corner of Satoru’s lips upwards, but you can’t see it. At the first grunt of pain from your pursuer, Geto has shifted. He turns his body so that you’re pressed into his chest rather than his back. You barely notice the change, too focused on controlling your breaths. You count the seconds on each inhale, hold the breath, then count again as you exhale. Hyper-focusing on your breathing brings a sense of calm to your otherwise panicked mind.

Geto moves the hand that grasps your waist to surround your body at the hips. He tugs softly, pressing you tightly to his chest. His other hand rests at the back of your head, gently rubbing against your hair. It's incredibly soothing. Swaying back and forth slightly, Geto keeps you pressed against him so that you have no choice but to focus on him rather than Satoru - who is dragging away the form of your attacker. Suguru softly hums, the sound reverberating in his chest and surrounding your senses. It drowns out the muffled cries from behind him.

Satoru spares a glance over his shoulder, allowing his eyes to soften slightly at the sight of the two of you pressed together. He longs to take care of this quickly so he can wrap his arms around the two of you. Turning quickly, Satoru continues to drag the struggling form of Mahito’s henchmen towards a dark alley.

“Let’s finish this quickly,” Satoru spits. “I have business to take care of.”

The next few moments don't really register in your head. Suguru had tried to lead you away from the scene, but your legs had quickly given out beneath you. Tired from escaping and adrenaline quickly fading, you finally allowed exhaustion to catch up. Geto had been quick to slip an arm under your knees and hoist you up. Shoulders flexing, Suguru clearly had enough muscle mass to carry anyone he wanted.

In his arms, Suguru helped you practice breathing until the pattern was more controlled.

He mumbled soft reassurances against your ear as he carried you towards his car. He and Satoru had driven to the club, knowing neither of them would drink that evening.

Before he could set you in the backseat, you vaguely recall protesting. Not wanting to ruin the interior of his car with your soaked form, you had shaken your head and stammered soft objections. Geto had chuckled under his breath, and fished out a towel from the trunk after setting you on your feet to rest against the car. His hands were kind and gentle as they helped you dry to the best of your abilities.

When he’d tried to place you in the backseat, you shook your head rapidly once more and clutched him tighter to your form. The fear from running for your life had yet to wear off, and the thought of Suguru leaving you left you more panicked than before.

Suguru gently shushed you as he rocked the two of you back and forth again. Your face was buried in his chest again, and Suguru longed to see your pretty eyes.

“S’okay, I’ve got you.”

The phrase is mumbled over and over again with Suguru’s lips pressed against your forehead. They’re soft and warm, and you wish you were in a clearer state of mind so you could savor the feeling.

“Nobody can hurt you with us here,” Suguru sighs. “Promise.”

With adrenaline quickly fading, you’re on the verge of passing out. However, you continue to pry your eyelids back open each time they drift shut. You’re waiting for Satoru to return. Your heavy head won’t let you rest until you know he's safe too.

Seconds later, your eyes finally fall shut as a second set of hands gently rub the skin of your arm. You almost flinch, but you know Geto wouldn’t have let just anyone touch you.

Gojo’s hands are surprisingly softer than Geto’s. His long fingers press softly to the bare skin of your forearms, where your clothes have gone askew in your flight. Gojo gently readjusts them, though you’re far past the point of caring.

Muttering is heard above your head, though the sounds are muffled to your slowly weakening form.

“-Wouldn’t rest until you came back-” is heard, followed by “-doesn’t want to be by herself.”

Gojo nods softly. Geto fixes him with a look before he begins to shift you into Satoru’s arms. You whine in vague protest, and Gojo is the one to hush you this time. His leaner body presses against your skin and his warmth seeps into your cold skin. When you nuzzle closer with a mumble, Satoru’s heart clenches.

“Come on, Sweetheart - in we go.”

Gojo shuffles you into the backseat of Geto’s car before following after you. When you’re buckled into the middle seat with Satoru still pressed against you, you finally allow yourself to pass out in exhaustion.

Satoru clutches your body to his, shifting to allow your head to press into his neck rather than his shoulder. He finally unwraps the blindfold from his eyes, allowing the bright blue irises to sweep over your body without the hindrance of the mask. Scanning for injuries, Satoru huffs a sigh of relief when he confirms you have no physical wounds.

Nodding to Suguru, the key is slid into the ignition and the car finally pulls out of its parking spot. He skillfully maneuvers the car in the dark of the night, with one hand grasping the steering wheel and the other pressed against his forehead. He rubs his temple, gently pushing away the ache that rang in his skull.

Suguru hasn’t been this stressed in a while.

Locking eyes with Satoru’s ocean blue one’s in the rearview mirror, Suguru gives him a knowing look.

“We should take her back to our place.” It’s spoken quietly, uncharacteristic of Satoru when not in the presence of his lover. “Kento says she lives in a shit-hole apartment up North - she won’t be safe there tonight.”

Suguru agrees. He’d already been heading in that direction anyway. He takes a smooth left towards the direction of their house, hands sliding against the leather of the steering wheel. There’s a long beat of silence in the interior of the car. Suguru can almost hear the faint sound of your breaths escaping your lips. He’s thankful that they’ve slowed to a reasonable pace.

At a stoplight, Suguru twists in his seat. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru is met with the sight of Satoru’s soft eyes locked on your form. The white-haired man is delicately stroking the hair back from your eyes, his other hand grasped tightly in yours. You’d fallen asleep pressed into his chest, body slanted sideways in the seat. Satoru’s eyes shine with worry, but they don’t leave your face.

He’s too busy scanning each of your features, memorizing the innocent, gentle that overtakes your face in your sleep. Satoru gently rubs the tear tracks from your cheeks, feeling the softness of the skin against his fingertips. He sighs, and looks up to meet his lover’s eyes.

“I don’t ever want to see that look again.” Suguru mumbles. He’s referencing the scared, panicked look you'd given him when you’d bumped into him. Suguru thinks his heart may have stopped beating when he’d heard the sobs choke from your lungs.

Satoru nods. His sky blue eyes drop back to your face. Satoru can’t lie - he too, had been anxious at the sight of your panic. He promises himself, in that moment, to never let that same look befall your features.

“S’alright, Suguru.” Satoru mutters back, lifting a hand to gently thumb the wrinkle between Suguru’s brows. His fingers slide from his partner’s forehead down his cheek, where Satoru softly runs the same thumb over Suguru’s lips.

“We’ve got her now,” Satoru clutches you tighter to his chest, watching the rise and fall of your chest. “Never gonna’ let anyone hurt her again.”

Suguru’s still damp hair falls into his eyes as he nods. Pressing a kiss to Satoru’s thumb, Suguru runs his fingers over your cheek and turns back to face the dashboard. He shifts the car back into gear, and continues driving the three of you back to their place.

Satoru’s right, Suguru decides. There’s nothing in this world or the next that could stop the two clan heads from protecting their family. Suguru gently huffs and shakes his head - Family, huh? They certainly hoped you would be soon.

When you wake the next morning, it’s in soft silken sheets and the scent of waffles and fresh coffee in the air. You vaguely recall a memory of Satoru gently hushing you as he lifted your body from Suguru’s car. He'd carried you into their expensive, but surprisingly, small home. Despite their wealth, the two had agreed that they didn't need an extravagant mansion to raise their daughters - it wouldn’t feel like a home.

The house the two men resided in was a quaint, two-story cottage style house. The girls had fallen in love with it the first time the real estate agent had shown them the property. They'd run around the yard, pointing out flowers and various insects to their fathers. Mimiko giggled as her sister pressed a daisy behind her ear, mumbling about how pretty her Nee-san was. Suguru had nearly handed over the downpayment that day.

Shuffling up the stairs, the two men were quiet so they wouldn't wake the twins. Suguru had closed his eyes and changed your wet clothes. He couldn’t, in good consciousness, let you sleep in the sopping wet material. When he’d finished, Satoru had picked you back up and delicately placed you in the guest bed. It was next door to their room, but both men still cast a longing glance over their shoulder as they left the room.

It felt wrong to leave your side after such an event. Suguru craved to remain by your side, to press his body into yours and tuck his hands into Satoru’s hair. He wanted you pressed between them - in capacity, shape or form. Just hearing the beat of your heart would comfort him enough to allow him to sleep.

Satoru had gently tugged Suguru away. Though he felt the same, he knew your relationship wasn’t quite there yet. They could properly ask you soon.

In the early hours of the morning, you awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and the beams of sun drifting in from the window. It’d taken a moment to register your surroundings, not used to the sounds of nature outside your apartment. It was usually the sounds of shouts from your upstairs neighbors that woke you in the morning, so the change of pace was nice.

Drifting your attention from the soft spring breeze filtering in from the window, your eyes landed on the door. From just outside, there was the sound of rustling, and then three voices quietly mumbling. The voices are familiar, and you’re not worried.

Everything about the room you’re in feels comforting. The scent of both Satoru and Suguru are in the air. You’re swaddled in a shirt a size too big, but you can’t decide whose it is. It smells vaguely like them both, so it very well could be a shared shirt between the two. The sheets are smooth under your skin, and the sun is warm on your cheeks.

Despite the events from the night before, you don’t think you’ve ever slept so soundly.

The sound of voices is heard again, and it sounds like excitement from two, before there’s a gentle command of “No, wait!”

Then, your door is being pried open.

The gentle pitter-patter sounds of two sets of feet scurry across the hardwood floors before two bodies are throwing themselves onto your bed.

“Sensei!”

The two girls squeal in happiness, launching their little bodies into your arms. You can't help the bright grin that lifts your cheeks. Their wide-eyed, toothy smiles are too much for your heart, and you lift your arms to scoop their bodies into your chest. You squeeze them tight, refilling your chest with a warmth that had been missing after last night.

Mimiko giggles and nuzzles herself closer, her sister following suit. They burrow themselves into the sheets, clinging tightly to your form and smelling of fresh strawberries and pastries. Your eyes are shut as you chuckle alongside the girls and hug their little bodies to you.

“I’m so sorry!” It’s Satoru who apologizes. His voice sounds worried, but there's still an underlying hint of joy. “Suguru and I couldn’t hold them back after they heard you spent the night.”

You sigh, but it’s a happy sound. A breath of fresh air fills your lungs and you giggle again. Nanako tucks herself under your chin, her tiny arms wrapped around your chest. Mimiko lays on your other side in a much similar position.

“It’s alright, Satoru.”

The words are spoken in a breathy laugh. You haven't looked up to face him yet, too busy situating yourself and the girls into a more comfortable position.

“Papa made us wait an hour!” Nanako nearly whines. She wiggles a bit alongside her words, and you tickle her sides to hear her giggle again.

“Did he? How cruel of him,” you play along.

Satoru huffs an exaggerated sigh, and you turn your gaze up to meet him, ready to playfully argue for the girls.

The words die on your lips as you take him in.

Satoru isn’t wearing his sunglasses. An ocean of clear blue and turquoise meets your eyes, and you find yourself losing your train of thought. The swirling depths of Satoru’s eyes are unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. They glimmer with mischief, but it’s easily overlooked. The crystal clear and vibrant cyan blends gorgeously with his white hair, and you find yourself stuttering.

“I- you-” you try to form the words on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re beautiful.”

It’s not the words you had intended to speak, and the cacophony of giggles that fall from the twin’s mouth causes heat to rise to your face. You turn away, trying to hide your embarrassment by burying your forehead into Mimiko's hair.

Satoru can’t lie - his heart did skip a beat at the exclamation. He hadn’t been expecting the compliment, and the genuine awe in your voice makes his stomach twist with butterflies. A warmth fills his chest and Satoru nearly keens at the praise.

“Sensei thinks Papa is pretty,” Nanako giggles. Her cheeks are pink from laughter, and she pokes your cheek. Mimiko’s laugh blends with her sister, and she looks back at her father, who is barely concealing his own pink cheeks. You delicately pinch the girl’s side, but it only causes another peel of laughter to escape.

Grinning, Satoru locks eyes with you again when you manage to pull them from where they're buried. He wiggles his eyebrows, a move you’ve seen him pull before.

You roll your eyes, flopping your head back against the fluff of the pillows. Shifting the girls in your arms, you sit up against the headboard of the bed. From behind Satoru, Suguru peeks into the room. He has an apron over his sweats, and his hair is pulled back into a bun with a few strands framing his face. The combination of both men in their comfort clothes and smiles on their cheeks nearly causes your skin to warm again.

“What’s going on in here?” Suguru questions. A grin is on his lips as he sets his chin on Satoru’s shoulder, arms wrapping around his partner's waist. He watches his daughters cling onto you, a warmth in his chest.

“Sensei called Papa beautiful!” Mimiko chimes helpfully, mimicking her sister’s earlier words. She lifts her head from your neck to sing the words, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, did she?” The words are teasing. Suguru’s dark eyes are now locked on you. You try to avoid his gaze, embarrassment rushing through your form and a nervous excitement in your gut. Choosing instead to look at the scenery outside the window, you grab a silk pillow from behind you. Without looking you toss it in the vague direction of the men, huffing a laugh when an indignant ‘Hey!’ follows.

Despite your embarrassment, Suguru can tell you’re feeling better. Last night had been incredibly stressful, but he's glad the twins are able to melt some of the stress away. The knowledge of his daughters bringing you genuine happiness causes his grip to tighten on Satoru’s waist. The white-haired man turns his head, pressing a soft kiss to Suguru’s forehead.

Both men share an understanding. The emotions swirling between them are similar and shared between the two. They watch with warm eyes and happy grins as you tickle MImiko and blow raspberries to Nanako’s cheeks as they squeal.

Satoru rests his hands over Satoru’s and sighs happily. They could get used to this.

And get used to it, they do.

Satoru and Suguru manage to pull the girls from you, and they lead the three of you down to breakfast. They explain that they hadn’t felt comfortable leaving you alone, and had brought you back to their place for the night. Satoru expresses that they want you to stay until you felt safe enough to return to your own apartment. Suguru agrees with his partner with a firm nod of his head. Feeling thankful, you agree, under the condition that you return to your place to grab clothes and other necessities.

Both men nod, and later that afternoon, you’re picking up a week’s worth of clothes and other necessities from your run-down apartment. Suguru doesn’t allow you to carry your bags, shifting them to his own arms as Satoru leads you back to their car.

A week passes. Suguru drops you and the twins off at the school in the mornings and Satoru picks the three of you up in the evenings. You help them prepare meals, setting the table and chopping veggies. Satoru presses his chest against your back when you have Mimiko set on your hip. The girl giggles at her father, and pushes his face away when he asks for a kiss. She whines when he blows a raspberry in her neck, and you have to hide your reddening ears from the white-haired man when his cheek brushes yours.

Then another week passes too. The twins have begun asking you to read their bedtime story on most nights, and Gojo and Geto press against each other in the doorway to watch. There’s love in their eyes as you mimic different characters’ voices and animate sounds from their storybooks.

Soon, nearly a month has gone by, and you have yet to return to your apartment. It’s not as though you hadn’t thought about it. You had asked Suguru a week back, but he'd simply given you a warm look and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

He murmured a gentle, “Don’t worry about it, Pretty.” Then, he nudged your hip in the direction of the twins, who awaited your presence at their tea party.

The more time passed, the more their house began to feel like a home of your own.

Of course, Satoru had explained the ‘intricacies’ of their workplace a few weeks back. You’d suspected something similar, with the way your attacker had shrunk back against their figures. Their very existence nearly exuded an aura of something darker and a little dangerous.

However, despite the revelation, you couldn't find it within yourself to be scared.

Neither Satoru, nor Suguru, had ever made a motion to hurt you. Their gazes were always filled with warmth and their touches were nothing but gentle. All the time you'd spent alongside either man and their daughters felt like an eternity of sunshine and cloudless skies.

Besides, there was something about the way that Suguru had hid your form behind his own. He'd held your body behind his shoulders, hand grasping your waist protectively. The way that Satoru had joined his partner’s side, standing shoulder to shoulder with him to hide your form, lingered in your mind. Suguru’s hushed words of comfort and praise still touched the edges of your subconscious. The reminder of feeling their hands on your skin as they rocked you back and forth, made goosebumps raise the hairs of your skin.

Nothing about either man had ever sparked fear in your mind. They’d only ever treated you with care and protectiveness. It was a reminder that made you so, incandescently happy.

By the end of the next week, the five of you had established a routine around the house. Part of you hoped that the dreamlike situation never ended. It had begun with a feeling of fear, but you found yourself thanking the moment for what followed after.

Geto had dropped the three of you off at the school courtyard that morning, pressing kisses to each of his daughter’s cheeks. They’d giggled, before grasping each other’s hands and taking off towards the classroom. Turning to you, Suguru pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as well, a motion that both he and Satoru had been repeating lately.

The motion is not missed by Nanami, who sends you a look. We’ll talk about this later, it says. You roll your eyes and wave him away with a smile. Nanami huffs and nearly rolls his own eyes as he sets Yuuji down next to Megumi. Toji is just turning around to walk back to his car, sending you a two-fingered wave on his way. You’re used to his laid-back demeanor, so you simply wave him off with a smile.

Suguru clutches your waist a little tighter, but it goes unnoticed by you. Both he and Satoru have been touchy lately, and you had no problem indulging in their soft caresses and gestures. Though you felt a little guilty, seeing as they were in a committed relationship, neither man seemed upset with his partner’s affection. You allowed them to continue, after ensuring it was alright with both men.

“I’ll be back before three,” he whispers into your hairline. You hum, bumping Suguru with your hip to motion him back towards the car.

“See you, Sugar!” The nickname causes a huffed laugh to exhale against your head. The word had slipped from your mouth by accident when you’d been baking with the girls two weeks ago. You’d meant to ask him for the sugar, but instead his name and the ingredient had both come out in a tangled mess. The twins had giggled endlessly, and the nickname had somehow stuck.

Suguru leaves your side with a final squeeze of your hip, heading back to his car. He’s not excited for the hours of meetings he and Satoru have to sit through, but the thought of your new little family allows him to push through the stress.

The two men had decided they would finally ask you to join their family that evening. Over hushed whispers passed between the two in the early hours of the morning, Satoru had decided that it was finally time. You got along so well with their daughters, never treating them poorly and consistently providing equal attention and love. Despite not being yours, you treated the girls like your own. Both Satoru and Suguru don’t think they’ll ever be able to find a person like you ever again.

It was time to ask you to be theirs.

The thought makes Suguru’s stomach twist with anxious excitement. As he pulls out of his parking space, all that’s on his mind is the thought of you and his little family.

Satoru and Suguru have sat through five hours of meeting when the phone call comes. The mindless droning of clan members and shipment info pass through the room, boring both men. When a break is finally called, Satoru pulls out his phone, only to be met with the sight of six missed calls from your phone.

Satoru sucks in a breath, heart racing. It’s half past two, so the other students will have already left the school, but you shouldn’t be expecting them until closer to three. His phone had been on silent, not wanting to be interrupted or distracted during their meetings. The six calls had all occurred within the last fifteen minutes, and Satoru is partially relieved it hasn't been too long.

Mind racing with possibilities, Satoru tilts the phone so Suguru can see the screen. His long-haired lover furrows his brow, chest seizing at the notifications. The two make eye-contact - well, a semblance of it due to Satoru’s blindfold.

Before either can speak, the phone begins to ring again. Suguru is immediately standing, excusing both himself and Satoru. They make their way out into the hall as Satoru answers the call.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Satoru starts. “You alright? What’s goin’ on?”

The phone is set to speaker, allowing Suguru to listen. For a moment, there’s no answer. Only silence is heard from the other side of the line. Then, a tiny sob is heard.

Mimiko.

Suguru nearly crumpled at the sound of his daughter’s cry. Knees weak, he leans into Satoru, who rests his own weight against his partner. Both men have nearly racing pulses, eyes wide and frantic as they look from each other back to the phone.

“Mochi?” Satoru murmurs.

Another beat of silence passes.

Then, a tiny voice is heard. “Papa?”

Nanako is the one who speaks. It’s dreadfully quiet, the word nearly whined through a suppressed sob.

“Baby, S’going on?” Suguru rushes, clutching Satoru’s arm. His mind is racing at the possibility of his daughters being hurt. The dark-haired man wonders where you are, his breath catching at the thought of any of you in danger.

The sounds of tiny sobs erupt from both girls, only worsening their fathers’ worry. The phone muffles the sound, but shouts are heard in the background. Suguru tenses, fist clenching as he and Satoru look at each other. There’s only a second passing between them before they're both moving.

Satoru is immediately moving, taking long strides as he and Suguru push through the halls towards the parking garage. Both men are panting, chests tight with worry as they make their way to the car. It feels neither of them can move fast enough as they pull open the doors to Satoru’s car. He’s the faster of the two drivers, capable of maneuvering them through tight races and escapes.

Satoru passes the phone to Suguru as a sharp cry is heard from one of their daughters.

Chest seizing in fear, Suguru calls out. “Nanako? Mimiko? Are you alright? What’s happening?”

The next words to fall from Nanako’s mouth have Satoru pressing the gas pedal to the floor. Suguru’s chest feels as though it will collapse as he clutches the phone tight between his fingers.

“S’Mama! The bad men are trying to hurt Mama!”

At half past two, you see them.

Three men in dark suits began approaching the classroom after you waved the last student goodbye. Satoru had wanted you of the danger that came with being around them, but at the time, you’d fixed him with a look.

“I don’t care, Toru,” you’d smiled. “Nothing could tear me away from this family now.”

Satoru had grinned, pulling you into his chest and giddily murmuring happy phrases that had you pinching his sides. He'd pressed a kiss to your head, laughing when the twins called for attention too.

You had suspected they’d return, though you never thought they’d come to your workplace. Especially not with Mimiko and Nanako still around.

With a tense exhalation of air, you quickly pivoted on your feet. Heading for the twins, you shut and locked the door behind you in a rush. Pressing a chair under the knob of the door, you pulled down the curtains to all the windows in the room. The twins looked up from the television that was playing a superhero movie.

Turning to them, you quickly ushered them both under your desk in the corner of the room. It was small but they could both fit. From this area, neither of their little bodies could be seen since the desk was pressed between a shelf and the wall, surrounded by all but one side. They’d be well hidden here.

“What’s going on?” Nanako wondered as you ushered the two into the small space. Their eyes were worried, little hands clutching each other and yours. Hushing them gently, you pressed your unlocked phone into their little hands. Gently brushing the hair away from their cheeks, you gently coaxed them under the desk.

“It’s alright, honey. There’s some bad men here that Sensei has to send away. I need you to stay under here and call your fathers, can you do that for me?”

The girls had exchanged an already teary-eyed look. “But what about Mommy?” Mimiko whimpered.

The title sent a pang through your chest, one that you didn't have time to address. You were running out of time and you could not - would not - let the twins get hurt.

“Mommy’s gonna’ be fine - okay, Angel? Trust Mommy.”

The little girls had shakily nodded their heads, crawling to the back of the depths with a press of a kiss to both their little foreheads. They clung to each other as you maneuvered the chair to hide their bodies further from sight.

“Call Papa, okay? Daddy can fix everything, just make sure to keep quiet, alright?”

You sent the girls a final worried look, trying to hide the fear with courage. You didn't want the twins to think you were scared. It would only further their panic. You could only rely on Satoru and Suguru to pick up the phone, and hope that they could make it here soon. The three tall men have already made it to the door, and the lock won't hold for much longer based on the sounds of them wailing on the handle.

Whatever happens now, you only know you have to keep the twins safe. They'd called you Mom, after all.

Satoru thinks he's broken twelve different laws by the time the car screeches to a stop outside the school courtyard.

They're the furthest thing from his mind. Suguru has already slammed the door to the car, feet carrying him across the courtyard in long strides. Satoru follows quickly after. Chests tight and anxiety spinning in their stomachs, Suguru feels as though he'd lied before. When he thought he’d never been more scared to see the fear on your face - he’d been wrong.

It’s this moment, the one where he bursts through the door to three men hovering over you. There's blood on your cheek and a dark bruise is already forming on your cheek. The sounds of his daughters sobbing can be heard from behind the desk, but your body blocks his view. Despite the men’s torment, your figure is leaned over the tiny entryway to the desk, blocking them from getting any closer to the twins.

Your hands are over your head, protecting your face from being struck again. Curled protectively over the desk, Suguru knows you’re protecting his daughters, even despite the peril it puts your own safety in.

It’s at this moment, thatSuguru’s breath leaves his lungs. The anxiety in his stomach swells further into panic and he feels as though he may vomit. Chest heaving, Suguru kicks a desk out of his way,

“Get the fuck away from my family!”

It’s spit with a venom that even Satoru has seldom heard.

The white-haired man was not far behind Suguru. He rushes into the doorway not long after his lover, eyes taking in the sight even with the blindfold. His mouth is dry and his legs nearly shake. Your frail, trembling form fills his vision and the sounds of the sobs of his daughters fill his ears. An overwhelming anger fills his body, but Satoru can't tear his eyes from your figure.

Hunched over the desk, body beat, you still stand in the way. Refusing to budge, even despite the taunts and strikes, you shield the twins from the sight of the men. Satoru is filled with a protective rage he's sure is similar to your own. The urge to protect both you and his daughters has Satoru moving before Suguru has even finished spitting the command.

Pushing a desk out of his way, Satoru immediately reaches for the goon closest to him. Pulling the man away, Gojo kicks his form with clenched teeth. He strikes the man with enough force to send him flying back into the other desks, crashing into the wood with a grunt.

Satoru has already moved to grab the second man before the attackers can even think. He isn’t blessed with the Six Eyes for nothing.

“How dare you,” he growls as he pushes the man to the floor beneath him. Pushing the man’s skull to the ground with his foot, Satoru nearly sounds like a feral animal.

“How dare you go after them? Our lover? Our daughters?” He presses the man harder into the floor, not concerned by the third goon, who’s already being forced to the floor by an angry Suguru.

Tossing the man towards the first, Suguru quickly turns back to you. His expression quickly changes to one of concern, of guilt and love and all kinds of unexpressed feelings. With a softened expression, Suguru quickly and gently grasps your hands, pulling them over your ears, motioning for his daughters to do the same.

“Keep your ears covered, Pretty.” He fixes the girls with the same, soft command. “Even when the sounds stop, keep them covered, alright? Satoru and I will come get you when it's over.”

Then, he's softly pushing you under the desk with the twins and turning back to help a fuming Satoru drag the three men out of the classroom. His expression immediately drops back into one of fury.

The two strongest clan leaders in Japan have rats to exterminate.

When your aching body drops to the floor in front of the girls, they immediately bury themselves in your sides. Snot rubs into your shirt, but you could hardly care since your own tears had already stained the material. Clutching your ears tight, you curl over the girls, unable to protect them any other way.

“Mommy!” The muffled cry falls from the lips of both girls. They sob into your chest, little bodies trembling in fear. Little hushes fall from your lips as you do your best to soothe them despite their covered ears.

“S’alright, Mommy’s here now. I won’t let them hurt you.” The words are muffled to your own ears, and you hope Nanako and Mimiko can hear them. “S’gonna be fine, Angels. Daddies’ are here now - we’re gonna be just fine.”

You aren't quite sure how long you sit there, with your hands pressed over your ears and body curled protectively over the twins. Time no longer seems to exist. You can’t count your racing breaths anymore as you fight to keep your heart in control as is. All you can do is repeat the same gentle phrases to the girls, hoping to comfort them as best you can.

When Satoru and Suguru finally finish disposing of the ‘rats’, Suguru pulls out his phone to call one of the other loyal clan members. It’s a quick and rushed phone call. Suguru is too desperate to go back to your shaking form and his crying daughters. He barely manages to spit out the address and a vague explanation, before he’s hanging up and racing back in after Satoru.

The white-haired man is already at your side, gently prying your form away from the girls. He’s whispering gentle reassurances, eyes welling with tears at your beaten form and rustled hair. There’s tears in your eyes and on your cheeks, but you're still clutching to the girls protectively. Suguru’s chest fills with relief and warmth and he strides over.

Satoru has already pulled you against his chest, after gently reassuring you it was just him.

“Oh, thank god.” He exhales in a sob of his own. He’s pressing kiss after kiss to your forehead, to your cheek - to every inch of skin he can reach. They're soft and careful of the bruise on your cheek, but Satoru mumbles his worries into your skin.

Suguru is pulling the girls into his chest, crying into their little bodies as they call out for him. His heart is still racing, but the relief of seeing his daughters and you safe, is slowly beginning to calm to the rapid pulse.

“Was s’worried,” Suguru cries. It’s raw, choked out through tears, and when you turn to see his expression, you’re brought to more tears of your own. His face is twisted into pain, tears falling down from his dark eyes. Both hands and pressing his sobbing daughters into his chest, but he pulls one hand away to reach out for you.

Satoru pushes you gently into his lover’s embrace, following quickly after. You press to the twins’ backs, Satoru pressed to your own in a sandwich of swirling emotions. Suguru’s hand holds your cheek gently, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. Tears drip onto your skin, but there’s so many salty tear tracks on your skin from you, the girls and Satoru that they don't phase you.

“My babies-” Satoru mumbles in a voice uncharacteristically weak. He’s got you pushed against the girls, his hands clutching your body and Suguru, so the five of you are all pressed together.

“Papa!” Nanako cries. Mimiko copies her, a wail of her own following. “We were so scared, Papa!”

Satoru shushes them both with a soft hum, pressing kisses to them both and brushing tears away from their eyes when they look up at him. The little girls snuggle closer to the both of you, little hands clutching clothing in tight fists.

“I thought the bad men were going to hurt Mama!” Nanako whimpers, burying her teary face into your neck. You clutch her closer with a still racing heart, so happy to be safe with the four of them.

“S’alright now,” Suguru mumbles. “Papa and I will never let anything happen to you - ever again.”

He brushes a stand of ruffled hair away from your face, eyes filling with the utmost love as he looks into your own. Satoru presses his nose to your scalp, inhaling your scent and clutching you tight in his other hand.

“We’re gonna keep you and Mama safe,” Satoru whispers, sending his lover another aching look. Suguru returns it with equal love resonating behind his eyes.

“I promise,” he finishes.

Suguru shifts his eyes to yours, an unreadable look of gratitude and love in the irises. There's emotion in them you can’t quite decipher, but you don't need to.

Because Suguru has already lunged forward and is capturing your lips with his own.

The kiss is wet with both your tears, salt on both your lips, but it’s undeniably the best kiss you've ever had. Suguru expresses his fears, his worries, his love and a thousand other emotions in the gentle press of his lips against yours. You gasp out a short exhale of surprise, before you return the kiss tenfold. It's rushed, but the both of you are too worried and filled with too much relief to care.

When Suguru pulls away, Satoru is pulling your head to the side and capturing your lips with his own. His kiss is equally as fervent, expressing his love and gratitude for your safety with the push and pull of his soft lips against your own. He's pulled off his blindfold, and his hands are pressed against your cheeks, softly stroking the skin beneath his fingers. Satoru’s kiss is equally as breathtaking as Suguru’s.

After you separate, Suguru is grasping Satoru and kissing him the same. They share a kiss of overwhelming passion and love, grateful to have made it in time to save their family.

A disgusted voice breaks the silence.

“Ew, Papa. No! That’s gross, stop kissing each other!”

The three of you exhale gentle chuckles of relief, turning to face Nanako and Mimiko who are both looking up at you. Then, the three of you are scattering the girls’ cheeks in kisses, pressing their little bodies against yours. Their little squeals fill the room, and both Satoru and Suguru have never been more grateful for Nanami’s kindergarten recommendation.

Weeks later, you wake in silken sheets again, pressed between Satoru and Suguru’s chests. They’re shirtless, as are you. Suguru’s tattoos stand out against the softness of his skin, and you find yourself tracing the ink down the muscles of his chest. The first time you’d done so, Satoru had made a suggestive comment and pressed your form between their chests. The electricity under your skin zinged at their touch, heating the space between your thighs and scrambling your brain.

You marvel at the strength that lies under his skin, and press a soft kiss to the tattoo just above his heart. A lone constellation sits in the empty space on his left pectoral muscle.

Cassiopeia.

Five bright stars intertwining with each other for eternity. Just the five of them together, lingering next to one another in the vast emptiness of space. Five stars to match five people. The constellation was chosen by Satoru, who sports the same tattoo over the skin of his heart as well.

Pressed to your back, the white haired man groans at the feeling of waking too early in the morning. He presses his shirtless form to yours, the heat of his skin melding with yours. The reminder of the less-than-appropriate events of the previous night sent heat to your cheeks and a dizzy haze to linger in your thoughts.

Being pressed between Satoru and Suguru is just as extraordinary as you’d thought.

Satoru’s lips leave a gentle kiss at the nape of your neck. His hands clutch your hips tighter, drawing you back into his chest to spoon you tighter. From in front of you, Suguru shuffles closer; his muscular chest pressing against the soft skin of your own bare chest. If he were awake, the motion would grant you a racy smirk.

In his sleep, Suguru hums. Lips plump, you press a kiss to his mouth before snuggling back under his chin. At the touch, Suguru furrows his brows.

“Go back t’sleep, Pretty. S’too early.”

You hum in agreement, soothing the wrinkle of his brows and accepting the delicate kiss he places on your lips before Suguru is asleep again.

Pulling your phone from where it was buried between the three of you, you pull back open your messaging app. There’s a single text waiting unread. It’s from Kento, and you nearly choke as you read over the few words.

“I knew you wanted to fuck them.”

bonus:

thug: do you have any last words?

reader: hold on, let me ask my partners

thug: ...

thug: that isn’t how this works - I’m going to kill you

reader, on the phone: suguru and satoru said no

a/n: wowowow this fic is a monster! I’m so excited I finally got it finished though! It’s not super proofread, but I was just too excited to release it hehe :3 I hope y’all enjoyed it!

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