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wongyuuu · 3 months

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midnight rain | lsm

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

Letter #1

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was trauma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just…"

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

Letter #2

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

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

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

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

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

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

He had no idea.

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

"What? You’re leaving today?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #3

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you recommend?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

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

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

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your question?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #5

Seokmin

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

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

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

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

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

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

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

What am I still doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never quite managed to do that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To hell with his plan.

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

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

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

“Seokmin, I…”

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled over your skin.

“At least this hasn’t changed”

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

“Where’s your room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seokmin... harder"

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #6

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me give you a ride”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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mononijikayu · 1 month

Text

happy together ─ geto suguru and gojo satoru

As you observed the intimate exchange between them, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading in your heart. Your love was palpable, radiating from their gaze and enveloping you in its comforting embrace. It was a reminder that amidst the uncertainty and challenges of life, the love shared between kindred souls could serve as a beacon of hope and solace. If there was any possibility to split a soul into three, perhaps it was born into life just for you. You were each other’s fate, come what may. That’s what you think. You know that they wouldn’t have it any other way either. Life made sense when you were happy together. And now you are.

GENRE: Hidden Inventory Arc - Shinjuku Showdown Arc, 2006/2007 - 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Humor, Romance, Afterlife, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Character Death, Mention of Grief, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Fluff, Mild Angst, Pining, Reunion, House of Three;

masterlist

kayu's playlist, side 400;

listen: happy together by the turtles

note: i speed-wrote this because i had some time while i took a break from doing my school work. i love this one, you guys. cause they finally realized they should be a throuple!!! anyway, installment one done!!! enjoy it you guys!!! i love you <333

WAKING UP WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE. As consciousness flooded back into your senses, you could feel your entire body jolt with a sudden shock, gasping for air as your eyes snapped open, wide with alarm. It was as if you had been yanked back from the brink of oblivion, returning to the realm of the living from where you had lain, motionless.

Beads of sweat dotted your temples, evidence of the intense ordeal you had just endured, while short, ragged breaths escaped your lips in quick succession, reminiscent of a runner finishing a grueling marathon. A chill ran down your spine, sending shivers rippling through your body, and you couldn't help but purse your lips as you sat in the eerie stillness that surrounded you.

Perched on the cold, unforgiving metal benches, you made a conscious effort not to lose your balance; after all, you were already prone to clumsiness. Amidst the disorienting haze that clouded your mind, one thought echoed louder than the rest: what was happening? It was a question that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread and confusion.

As your eyes slowly begin to adjust to the glaring light assaulting them, you find yourself struggling to make sense of your surroundings. Every movement you make seems to flow effortlessly, your Jujutsu uniform clinging to your form, the bright yellow hoodie swaying gently against the back of your neck with each subtle shift. Squinting against the harsh brightness, your brow furrows in a gesture of discomfort before you finally manage to lift your gaze, revealing the source of the intense illumination: those bright, beaming lights overhead. A low growl of frustration rumbles silently in your throat, but you force yourself to look away, tenderly massaging your sensitive eyes in an attempt to ease the discomfort.

Yet, as you blink and open your eyes once more, a sudden realization strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Those lights—there's something undeniably familiar about them. In fact, they feel more familiar to you than you would have ever dared to hope. Casting your gaze around the vast expanse before you, you take in the massive glass windows, the endless rows of metal benches mirroring the one you occupy. Above, the wide expanding upper floors look like a circular maze, the long white columns stretching towards the heavens. Bright signs adorned with directional arrows point the way to terminal gates, their bold letters beckoning travelers onward.

Your mouth falls slightly agape, rendered speechless by the bewildering scene unfolding before you. Thoughts whirl through your mind in a chaotic frenzy. "Huh?" you inwardly mumble to yourself, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Why am I in Okinawa again?"

As you attempted to rise to your feet, a wave of dizziness washed over you, causing the room to spin alarmingly. "Too fast," you chastised yourself inwardly, recognizing the consequence of your sudden movement. The sensation of disorientation only intensified as you took in your surroundings—an empty, eerily silent airport devoid of any signs of life. This wasn't at all how you remembered Naha Airport from your previous visit with Satoru and Suguru, accompanied by Kuroi and Riko. Back then, it had been a bustling hub of activity, teeming with excited travelers eager to explore the exotic wonders of Okinawa or reluctant city-dwellers bidding farewell to the island paradise.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line as you made your way toward the expansive window, the view beyond revealing a grounded plane sitting desolately on the tarmac, devoid of any passengers or activity. Confusion gnawed at the edges of your mind as you struggled to piece together the fragmented puzzle of your current situation. The effort only served to exacerbate the pounding ache in your head, each attempt at coherence feeling like a futile road to go down on.

With each step towards the large window space, the weight of uncertainty pressed down upon you, adding to the throbbing ache in your head. Outside, the sight of the motionless plane sitting abandoned on the tarmac only deepened your sense of bewilderment. People would be here, no, you stopped yourself, they should be here. It was a stark contrast to the lively scenes you remembered from your previous visit, where the airport buzzed with the energy of travelers coming and going.

As you stood there, gazing out at the empty runway, a flurry of questions raced through your mind. How had you ended up here, alone in this deserted airport? Where were Satoru and Suguru? And what had happened to the vibrant atmosphere you had once experienced in Naha Airport? More importantly, what was the reason of you being here? And why are you all alone? You wouldn’t have gone here alone. Not by your own will, not at all.

Attempting to piece together the fragmented memories of your journey only served to exacerbate the pounding ache in your head. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as you struggled to make sense of the inexplicable situation unfolding before you. Your hands slides down to the depths of your uniform pockets and you gather yourself for a moment. Being frustrated wouldn’t do you good. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the windowpane, your thoughts swirling in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty.

In the midst of the desolation, a pang of longing surged within you, a sudden ache for Suguru's comforting presence. He had always been the anchor to your tumultuous emotions, his touch a source of solace that grounded you in reality. You could almost feel the warmth of his hand enveloping yours, offering reassurance in times of uncertainty. Suguru possessed an innate gentleness, a kindness that seemed to radiate from his very being. He had a way of easing your burdens, providing comfort and relief to the pain that lingered within you. It was as if he carried a piece of sunshine wherever he went, banishing darkness with his unwavering warmth.

As thoughts of Suguru lingered, your mind drifted to Satoru, another pillar of strength in your life. Despite his penchant for cheesy dad jokes, he had a knack for lifting spirits and bringing smiles even in the darkest of times. You could almost hear his infectious laughter echoing in the empty halls of the airport, a reminder of the joy he brought to those around him. You missed the sound of his laughter, the way it bubbled up before he could even deliver one of his infamous jokes.

With a heavy sigh, you scanned the barren surroundings, searching for any sign of life amidst the desolate emptiness that surrounded you. It felt as though you were trapped within your own cage of loneliness, yearning for the comforting presence of those who had always been there to chase away the shadows of doubt and despair.

As you stood there, adrift in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, the sudden intrusion of a voice shattered the eerie silence enveloping the abandoned airport. Its resonance seemed to reverberate through the desolate expanse of the airport lounge, punctuating the solitude with an unexpected interruption. Startled by the intrusion, you pivoted on your heels to locate its source, your senses heightened by the jarring contrast between the stillness and the sudden commotion.

There, amidst the ghostly surroundings, you caught sight of Amanai Riko racing towards you, tears tracing a glistening trail down her cheeks. Her frantic footsteps echoed off the empty walls, each stride a testament to the urgency of her approach. The sight of her tear-streaked face stirred a mixture of emotions within you, a blend of concern and bewilderment at the unexpected encounter.

"Hey, are you alright?" Riko's voice called out, trembling with emotion, as she hurried toward you. Her hands moved frantically, checking your sides, your face, your hair, as though uncertain of what to do but driven by an urgent need to ensure your well-being. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to make sense of her actions, her touch both comforting and disconcerting in equal measure. Tears welled in her eyes, her distress palpable, and without a word, you found yourself enveloped in her embrace. “You’re here, I can’t believe you’re right here. I found you!”

You could feel the warmth of her tears soaking into your Jujutsu uniform, her apologies whispered between sobs. The sight of her vulnerability stirred a myriad of emotions within you, leaving you momentarily stunned into silence. Slowly, you reciprocated her embrace, your arms encircling her as you gently brushed her hair, urging her to release her pent-up emotions. Despite your own confusion, your instinct was to offer comfort, to be a source of solace in her time of need.

At that moment, questions lingered on the tip of your tongue, but you pushed them aside, prioritizing Riko's emotional well-being over your own uncertainties. All that mattered was being there for her, providing whatever support and comfort you could offer in the face of her tears.

"I'm so sorry," Riko choked out, her words muffled against the fabric of your shirt, her voice heavy with emotion. “I’m so so sorry!”

Confusion swept over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf your senses as you struggled to comprehend the depth of her distress. Yet, despite the uncertainty swirling within your mind, your instinct was to offer comfort, to provide solace in whatever way you could. With a gentle squeeze, you conveyed reassurance, a silent reminder that you were there for her, unwavering in your support.

"It's okay, Riko," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of her tears. Each syllable carried the weight of understanding and empathy, a soothing balm to the turmoil of emotions swirling around you. "Don't worry about it. You don't ever have to apologize for anything, darling girl."

"But! But….I just!" Riko's voice wavered, interrupted by sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Shhh…" You cooed, your words a comforting melody as you gently hushed her protests. A soft laugh escaped your lips, the sound echoing against the strands of her hair as you held her close. "I don't know why you're apologizing, but it's okay. I'm not mad about anything."

As Riko's sobs gradually subsided, you cast a glance over her shoulder, noting Kuroi Misato's approach with a gentle smile gracing her lips. "Hey," Kuroi greeted softly, her voice carrying a warmth that belied the complexity of emotions swirling within her.

Despite the outward display of kindness, there lingered a subtle hint of unease in Kuroi's expression, a flicker of guilt that caught your attention like a shadow in the midst of sunlight. It was a discordant note amidst the tranquility of the moment, leaving you with a sense of disquiet that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

As you pondered the significance of Kuroi's demeanor, a myriad of questions danced through your mind, each one seeking to unravel the mystery shrouding her intentions. Yet, try as you might, the elusive truth remained just beyond your grasp, leaving you to grapple with an unsettling sense of uncertainty. As Riko gradually regained her composure, you gently pulled away, your concern etched into every line of your face as you met her gaze with a mixture of worry and curiosity.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension. You slowly straighten your posture and look between the younger girl and her guardian. “I woke up here….and you’re crying. And I just….”

With a trembling voice, Riko began to unravel the unsettling truth that had brought them to this deserted airport. She looks like she couldn’t even bear to tell you. But looking at her eyes, you realized that she was gathering the courage to say it to you. You wanted to coax it out of her, suspicion making your heart beat even faster at the anxiety. She looks at Kuroi, who gives her a soft smile and nods at her.

"We've been here for a while, on the other side of the airport," she explained, her words carrying the weight of revelation. "It took us some time to realize, but... we're dead."

The revelation hit you with the force of a thunderclap, jolting you from the realm of the familiar into the stark reality of their circumstances. It felt as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom of disbelief and confusion. Each word uttered by Riko seemed to reverberate through the empty expanse of the airport, echoing off the walls like a haunting refrain.

Your mind raced to grasp the enormity of what she had just disclosed, but comprehension eluded you like a fleeting shadow. The implications of their predicament began to sink in slowly, like pebbles dropped into the vast ocean of your consciousness. This wasn't a mere misunderstanding or a figment of their imagination; it was the chilling truth laid bare before you.

As you struggled to come to terms with the stark reality of their situation, a sense of surrealism washed over you, enveloping you in a haze of uncertainty. It was as if you had been thrust into a waking dream, where the boundaries between life and death blurred and indistinct shades of gray.

Yet, amidst the tumult of emotions that threatened to engulf you, a flicker of determination ignited within your soul. You knew that you couldn't afford to dwell on shock and disbelief for long; there were questions to be answered, decisions to be made, and a journey into the unknown awaiting them all. With a steel resolve, you square your shoulders and prepare to confront whatever lay ahead, drawing strength from the bond that united you with Riko and Kuroi in this surreal limbo.

"Wait, what?" you stammered, your mind reeling with the enormity of what she was saying. It wasn’t registered. Your mouth parts, trying to get the words out. But nothing comes out.

This airport, once a bustling hub teeming with life and activity, now loomed before you as a solemn gateway to the afterlife. Its once vibrant corridors now echoed with the hollow silence of abandonment, the ghostly remnants of past travelers haunting its deserted halls. It was as if time had frozen within these walls, trapping them in a liminal space between the worlds of the living and the dead.

As the gravity of their situation settled upon you like a heavy shroud, a whirlwind of questions stormed through your mind, each one a relentless demand for answers in the face of this surreal reality. How had they ended up here? What awaited them beyond the confines of this desolate airport? And most pressing of all, what did it mean for their future?

Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, you made a conscious choice to set aside your own uncertainties, focusing instead on providing Riko and Kuroi with the unwavering support they needed in this moment of profound uncertainty. With a steadfast resolve, you vowed to stand by their side, ready to confront whatever revelations the future held, even as you braced yourself for the unknown journey that lay ahead.

You let yourself slowly walk back to the benches.

You take a moment and you carefully sit down.

You look at the two of them as you cross your arms.

“Tell me everything you remember when you woke up.”

YOU THINK YOU SPENT QUITE WHILE REGISTERING EVERYTHING. The three of you huddled together in a somber tableau, grappling with the weight of the revelations that had reshaped your understanding of existence. There really isn't much to be done now, it seems. As the realization of your passing settles in, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, accompanied by a gentle rub of the back of your head.

The irony of finding yourself in an airport at this moment doesn't escape you; it's almost as if God has a penchant for whimsy in the afterlife. Taking a seat on one of the airport benches, you purse your lips in contemplation. You know you'll be waiting here for a while, and oddly enough, that's what you find solace in. Suguru and Satoru, together. You believe they'll be alright; those two were destined for long, fulfilling lives. At least, that's what you hope for. After all, Jujutsu sorcerers aren't typically associated with the concept of 'forever'.

In truth, for you, the concept of death had been a familiar companion since youth—a shadow that had trailed alongside you through the tumultuous journey of your upbringing. As an orphan with no prospects and no dreams to call your own, the specter of mortality had woven itself into the fabric of your being, a constant presence as natural as drawing breath into your lungs.

It was Tsukumo Yuki who had intervened, rescuing you from the abyss of despair during her travels and delivering you into the care of Yaga-sensei. Under his guidance, you had discovered the latent ability to perceive curses, a revelation that had irrevocably altered the trajectory of your life. Even then, death had not loosened its grip on you; the path of a sorcerer was fraught with peril, a reality Yaga-sensei had emphasized with disarming candor.

Yet, buoyed by the hope of strength and the promise of a newfound purpose, you had forged ahead, driven by the belief that diligence and determination would pave the way to a brighter future. In the embrace of companionship—with Satoru, with Shoko, with Suguru—you glimpsed the elusive promise of happiness, a fragile beacon amidst the darkness of uncertainty.

Now, faced with the stark reality of your demise, you couldn't help but mourn the life you had hoped to live—a life filled with love, with laughter, with the warmth of cherished bonds. The memory of your final moments flooded back, the visceral recollection of sacrificing yourself to shield Riko from harm, a selfless act that now loomed large in the landscape of regret.

As you leaned against the cold metal frame, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of resignation and understanding. No wonder Riko felt guilty—your sacrifice had left an indelible mark on her conscience, a burden she now bore in the wake of your shared tragedy. You harbored no blame towards Riko, not even a trace of guilt weighed upon your conscience for sacrificing yourself in an attempt to protect her. From the depths of your being, there surged a profound sense of clarity—a steadfast conviction that your actions were born out of love and selflessness, devoid of any remorse or reproach.

In that fateful moment when danger had loomed large and fate had beckoned, you had acted instinctively, driven by an innate desire to shield Riko from harm at any cost. The notion of self-preservation had paled in comparison to the unwavering commitment to her safety, a commitment that transcended mere survival.

As you reflected upon the events that had led to your demise, there was no room for regret or recrimination. You supposed that it was the Jujutsu sorcerer in you. Yaga–sensei’s voice reverberated in your head, ‘A sorcerer doesn’t live for themselves. You live for others.’

The sentiment was something you wanted to laugh at. Satoru would laugh at how ridiculous that sounded, Suguru would think that it was ridiculous but it was what it was. But deep down you know you couldn’t. You know you wouldn’t. Instead, there existed a serene acceptance—a recognition that your final act had been keeping someone innocent alive. You did your duty, you stuck to your beliefs. You died well. You died fast too–you supposed that was a bonus in itself. That Sorcerer Killer had good aim too, you think. You sighed in finality, at the acceptance that this was fate. That this was what was destined. And it was what it was.

As you grapple with the weight of your departure, a single regret pierces through the fog of your thoughts, consuming your mind with its relentless presence. It's the ache of leaving behind Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko—the three pillars of your life, the anchors that tethered you to the realm of happiness and belonging.

Yet, amid this sea of regret, it's Suguru who occupies the forefront of your mind, his memory etched into the deepest recesses of your heart. You can't shake the feeling that your absence will inflict the deepest wounds upon him, for your love for him ran as deep as the ocean, binding your souls together in an unbreakable bond.

A flashback floods your consciousness, transporting you back to a moment frozen in time—a promise exchanged between lovers, whispered with the fervent hope of a future together. But now, as the harsh reality of your demise sets in, you find yourself grappling with the bitter irony of it all, the weight of unfulfilled promises hanging heavy on your soul.

You wish—oh, how you wish—that Suguru could understand the circumstances that led to your untimely departure, that he could find solace in the knowledge that your love for him transcends the boundaries of life and death. But even as you entertain this fleeting hope, a pang of uncertainty gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, whispering doubts of forgiveness and understanding.

And then there's Satoru—the other half of your soul, the one who had captured your heart with his infectious laughter and unwavering devotion. You can't bear to think of the pain that your absence will inflict upon him, the shattered dreams and broken promises that will haunt his waking hours.

A bittersweet memory emerges from the depths of your mind—a pinky promise exchanged between friends, a solemn vow to stand by each other's side until the end of time. But now, as you stand on the precipice of eternity, you can't help but wonder if Satoru will ever forgive you for breaking that sacred oath, for leaving him behind in a world devoid of your presence.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, a pang of guilt washes over you as you contemplate the impact of your absence on Shoko. She, too, had been an integral part of your life, a steadfast companion whose presence had brought warmth and solace in times of need. Now, as she navigates the bustling city streets alone, you can't help but feel a twinge of remorse knowing that she'll face each day without your comforting presence by her side.

You envision her, standing alone on the far-flung balcony of her dorm, the tendrils of smoke from her cigarette swirling around her like a melancholic dance. In that solitary moment, you can almost feel her loneliness echoing through the void, a stark reminder of the void you've left behind.

But even amidst the guilt and regret, you cling to a flicker of hope—that somehow, someway, Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko will come to understand the circumstances that led to your departure. You wish for nothing more than their forgiveness, their understanding, their acceptance of the choices you've made.

For now, as you stand at the crossroads of eternity, you hold onto the enduring love that binds you to them—a love that transcends time and space, a love that will guide you through the darkness and into the light.

A solemn silence settles over the three of you, each lost in your own thoughts and emotions. It's Riko who breaks the silence first, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggles to articulate the enormity of their situation.

"I... I never thought... I never imagined..." Riko's words falter, her eyes brimming with tears as she looks to you for comfort and understanding. “I just….”

You reach out to her, offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand as you meet her gaze with a soft smile. "It's okay, Riko. We'll figure this out together," you assure her, your voice laced with a gentle reassurance. “We gotta stick together, you hear me?”

Kuroi steps forward, her expression trying to lift from the veil of sorrow. She smiled. "We may not have all the answers right now, but we'll face this challenge together, as a team."

You nod in agreement, grateful for the unwavering support of your friends in this moment of uncertainty. "Thank you, both of you," you say with a sincere grin. “This might be easier with the two of you with me.”

With a determined smile, you hummed, eager to lift the spirits of your small group. You stand up from your chair. "Let's not dwell on what we can't change right now," you suggest gently, your voice infused with optimism. "Instead, why don't we explore this airport together? Who knows what we might find?"

Riko's eyes brighten slightly at the suggestion, a glimmer of curiosity replacing the sadness that had clouded her features moments before. She wipes the tears away. "That sounds like a good idea," she agrees, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Kuroi nods in approval, her resolve visibly strengthening as she takes your lead. "We'll make the most of this situation," she declares with newfound determination.

“Now, let’s go! I’m craving an ice cream sundae!”

Riko laughs as she follows closely behind you. “We’re dead, we can’t eat ice cream.”

“It doesn’t matter, I want it!” You laughed back at her, but more obnoxiously. “Kuroi, what’s your favorite ice cream?”

“Oh, that’s a hard one to decide….”

As you set off together, embarking on a journey of exploration and discovery, you can't help but feel a spark of hope ignite within you. Though the road ahead may be uncertain, you take comfort in the knowledge that you're not alone—you have each other, and together, you'll find a way to navigate this strange new world.

With a sense of purpose guiding your steps, you forge ahead into the unknown, ready to face whatever challenges may come your way. And as you walk side by side, the promise of a brighter future beckons on the horizon, filling your hearts with renewed courage and determination.

You had high hopes that it’ll be just the three of you for now.

If there was a god watching you now, you whispered a wish.

You wished that those you love would live a long and happy life.

But a few months later, you stood and frowned as you stared.

Brown eyes stared at you, cheeks flustered all the way through.

“Yu Haibara, how the fu—you were supposed to grow old, idiot!”

YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT THINK. That’s all you could really do here, if you were being honest. God perhaps intended purgatory as a reflection on your life. But somehow, these days, you end up thinking more about your new arrival—-Yu Haibara, and how he got here. Why was he here? You already knew why. And yet you kept pondering why. Why did he end up here so early? Why should such a boy with a life long ahead of him be here?

In the hushed moments of contemplation, memories of Haibara's sacrifice resurfaced like ghosts haunting the corridors of your mind. You didn’t tell him about it, but you ended up thinking that he was more like you than you liked. You wished in a way, that the boy he was, had been a little bit more selfish. He didn’t have to tell you how he died — you already knew. Because he was just that kind. He was too good of a person.

His selfless act, a final testament to his unwavering loyalty and boundless courage, lingered with poignant clarity, etching itself into the fabric of your consciousness. The image of him, standing tall and resolute in the face of danger, sacrificing himself to shield Nanami from harm, was seared into your memory like a brand, a testament to the indomitable spirit that defined him.

Nanami Kento must have been distraught, you think. Your little Ken, as you liked to call him, was more emotional than he let on, you like to think. To lose you both in the distance of one year, that’s a big blow — at least you like to think so. Kento had few people he liked to genuinely call friends. Even with you, he was formal. But Haibara? Haibara was his closest friend, even if he didn’t say it out loud. And now Haibara’s gone. You didn’t know what to say, at first. But Haibara just smiled at you.

As you reminisced about that conversation with Haibara, his words echoed in your mind with a poignant clarity, each syllable carrying a weight of its own. His reassurance, delivered with a grin that belied his own fears, had offered a fleeting moment of solace amidst the turmoil of grief and uncertainty. But even then, you couldn't shake the heavy burden of concern that weighed upon your heart.

“He’ll be alright,” Haibara wistfully smiled at you. “He’s a strong guy you know! He’s survived this long!”

"I hope so. But he'll miss his friend the most, you know," you murmured softly, your gaze tender as you looked upon Haibara, your voice heavy with unspoken worry.

In response, Haibara had laughed heartily, his laughter a balm to your troubled soul. "Hm, I know. But we'll see him one day. For now... he has to live. Long and happily too."

Your response had been a quiet hum of agreement, the weight of his words lingering in the air like a promise yet to be fulfilled. Together, you had watched the birds outside the airport window, their graceful flight a stark contrast to the heavy thoughts that weighed upon your mind.

And then, in a moment of unexpected candor, Haibara had turned to you, his expression earnest as he broached a topic that had long been left unspoken between you.

"You know..." he had begun hesitantly, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words to convey the depth of his emotions.

"Yeah?" you had prompted, your curiosity piqued by the sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Geto-senpai and Gojo-senpai..." Haibara had started, his gaze flickering with a mixture of sadness and regret. "They were really sad about your death."

The revelation had struck you like a blow to the chest, the weight of his words crushing in their sincerity. In that moment, you had been reminded of the far-reaching impact of your passing, the ripple effect of grief and loss that had reverberated through the lives of those you held dear. And as you grappled with the magnitude of their sorrow, a pang of guilt had seared through your heart, a painful reminder of the unintended consequences of your untimely departure.

A heavy silence descended between you and Haibara, the weight of his words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. You felt a lump form in your throat, the guilt of causing pain to those you cared about weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt them," you finally murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to articulate the turmoil within your heart.

Haibara's gaze softened, a gentle understanding shining in his eyes as he reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, senpai. None of us blame you for what happened. It's just... hard, you know? Losing someone we cared about so deeply."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a silent testament to the depth of your remorse. "I wish I could have stayed," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. You straighten your posture. You tried to be strong. "I wish I could have been there for them, to ease their pain and share in their sorrow."

Haibara's grip on your shoulder tightened, offering a silent reassurance in the midst of your anguish. "I know, senpai. But we can't change what's already happened. All we can do is cherish the memories we shared and hold onto the hope that one day, we'll be reunited with them again."

You nodded in agreement, finding solace in Haibara's words. "You're right," you whispered, a sense of determination settling over you. "We'll wait. Like they’re waiting.”

In those quiet moments of solitude, you found yourself reflecting on the bonds that had formed between you and your companions, forged through shared experiences and the trials of this peculiar existence. Haibara, Kuroi, Riko—each one has become an indispensable part of your makeshift family, their presence a source of strength and comfort in the face of uncertainty.

As you watched the sunset beyond the airport windows, casting a warm glow over the empty terminal, memories of happier times flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter that had once echoed through these halls, the shared meals and late-night conversations that had brought you all closer together.

But amidst the nostalgia, there lingered a palpable sense of loss—the absence of those who had left this world too soon, their laughter now just a distant echo in the recesses of your mind. You couldn't help but wonder what they would think if they could see you now, still waiting, still hoping for a chance at redemption.

Yet, despite the passage of time and the weight of your regrets, you refused to lose hope. You clung to the belief that one day, your vigil would come to an end, and you would be reunited with those you had lost. Until then, you would continue to cherish the moments you shared with your companions, finding solace in their unwavering support and the enduring bonds of friendship that bound you together.

As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you found yourself filled with a renewed sense of purpose—a determination to make the most of each passing day, to live fully and love deeply, even in the midst of this endless waiting. And so, with a quiet resolve, you turned to face the challenges of the days ahead, guided by the enduring light of hope that burned brightly within your heart.

Amidst the ever-present stillness of the airport, a burst of playful energy erupted as Riko suggested the game of hide and seek. "Let's play hide and seek!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around at the group.

You and your companions eagerly embraced the idea, craving a reprieve from the relentless monotony of waiting. With a chorus of agreement, you all scattered in different directions, eager to find the perfect hiding spot or to be the one to uncover the others' hiding places.

As the designated seeker, you closed your eyes and began counting aloud while the others hurried off to conceal themselves. The rhythmic cadence of your countdown filled the air, accompanied by the faint sounds of laughter and shuffling as your friends found their spots.

"One... two... three..." you began, the anticipation building with each passing moment. "Ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

You navigated the deserted corridors of the airport, your senses heightened as you scanned every nook and cranny for any sign of movement. Laughter echoed faintly in the distance, teasing you with hints of where your friends might be hiding.

As you rounded a corner, you caught a glimpse of movement—a flicker of movement behind a row of empty seats. Your heart raced with anticipation as you quickened your pace, closing in on the source of the movement. But as you rounded the corner, your momentum carried you forward, and before you knew it, you collided with someone—someone whose familiar touch sent a jolt of recognition coursing through your veins. You thought it was Kuroi. You believed it was Kuroi.

"Gotcha!" you exclaimed triumphantly, reaching out to tag the figure on the shoulder.

The realization hit you like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the breath from your lungs and leaving you reeling in disbelief. The warmth of the hand against yours was unmistakable—this wasn't Kuroi. Her touch was always cool, her fingers delicate and precise. But this hand... it was different. It was warm, rough with calluses that spoke of a life filled with toil and hardship.

As the truth began to sink in, your heart raced with a frantic rhythm, each beat echoing loudly in your ears as your mind struggled to process the impossible reality before you. Why was he….here? How was it possible? This soon?

Your eyes widened ever so slowly in the shock you felt as you resisted the urge to look up, to meet his gaze and confront the truth that lay between you. You knew that if you looked into his eyes, you would see the same pain and confusion mirrored there—the same turmoil that threatened to consume you whole.

“It’s you….”

The sound of his voice, so achingly familiar yet tinged with a hint of reproach, pierced through the haze of disbelief that enveloped you. You could feel his gaze boring into you, urging you to meet his eyes, to confront the truth that lay between you.

But you couldn't bring yourself to look. Not yet. Not when the wounds of his passing were still so fresh, raw with the sting of loss and longing. Instead, you bit your lip in a futile attempt to steady your trembling emotions, feeling the hot sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Look at me,” he pleaded, his voice soft yet filled with an unspoken urgency.

You shook your head, unable to find the strength to meet his gaze, to face the reality of his absence head-on.

“After all this time, are you going to deny me seeing your face?” His words were laced with a mixture of longing and frustration, a silent plea for reconciliation that echoed in the empty space between you.

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, the memories of your shared love flooding your mind with bittersweet intensity. Ten years—ten long years since you last saw him, since he slipped away from your grasp and into the cold embrace of eternity.

And now, here he was, standing before you with his hand outstretched, a silent reminder of everything you had lost and everything that could never be again.

But still, you couldn't bring yourself to look—to face the truth that lay before you, to acknowledge the gaping void that his absence had left in your heart.

“I can't,” you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse murmur.

The air between you hung heavy with unspoken words, the weight of your shared history pressing down upon you like a suffocating blanket. And as the tears continued to flow, you knew that no matter how hard you tried to deny it. He died. And so soon. He didn’t let himself grow old. He didn’t let himself live the life you wanted for him. You cried even more in the silence.

As you looked up, your breath caught in your throat, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of Suguru standing before you. His expression softened with concern as he reached out to steady you, his touch sending waves of warmth cascading through your body. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you gazed into his eyes, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. His purple eyes gleamed, almost so wondrously as though he was taking in the features of your face. As though he’d forgotten. He slowly smiled as tears poured down from his eyes too. His breath became shaky as his fingers rested on your chin.

In that fleeting instant, all the pain and longing you had carried with you melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and belonging. Without a word, you threw your arms around him, clinging to him as though he were the anchor that could tether you to this world. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you buried your face in his chest, the weight of your shared sorrow and joy pressing against you like a comforting embrace.

In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of laughter and the warmth of Suguru's embrace, you knew that no matter how long you waited or how far you roamed, you would always find your way back to each other. And as you stood there, lost in the embrace of the one you loved, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you—a hope that one day, you would be reunited with all those you held dear, in a place where time had no power to separate.

As the warmth of his embrace enveloped you, you couldn't help but let the floodgates of emotion burst open, tears streaming down your cheeks as you buried your face against his chest. The familiar scent of him, a mixture of earthy musk and the faint hint of his favorite cologne, washed over you, comforting you in a way that nothing else could.

“You idiot,” you cried out, your voice muffled against the warmth of his flesh. “You couldn’t even make me proud by growing old and living a whole life to tell me. You’re so annoying, you….”

But before you could finish your tirade, his laughter cut through the air, a melodic sound that echoed against your bodies and filled the empty space between you. It was a laugh filled with joy, unbridled and free, and for a fleeting moment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the happiness he exuded.

“I didn’t want to live a whole life if you weren’t going to be in it,” he confessed, his voice soft yet resolute. “There was nothing to smile about.”

His words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the depth of his love for you, even in the face of eternity. And as you stood there, locked in each other's embrace, you knew that no matter what trials may come, no matter how much time may pass, the bond you shared with Suguru would endure—a beacon of hope in the darkness that now enveloped your soul.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within you, a sense of peace washed over your weary soul. You realized that even in death, your love for each other remained as steadfast as ever, an unbreakable thread binding your hearts together for all eternity.

"I missed you," you whispered, your voice barely a breath against his chest.

"I missed you too," he replied, his arms tightening around you in a silent promise never to let go again.

For a timeless moment, you simply stood there, lost in the embrace of the one you thought you had lost forever. The weight of the years spent apart melted away, leaving only the warmth of his love to fill the void in your heart.

But as the realization of your reunion settled in, a new sense of purpose stirred within you. You knew that you couldn't stay in this airport forever, trapped in a limbo of waiting and longing. There were others out there, waiting for you, longing to be reunited just as you had been.

You pulled away from Suguru's embrace, meeting his gaze with a determined glint in your eyes. "We can't stay here," you said firmly. "There are others who’d want to see you.”

Suguru nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring your determination. "You're right," he said. "We'll find a way. Together. But….”

You looked at him as he smiled at you, his height bearing down upon you.

“Let me kiss you.” He whispers to you. “Before you introduce me to the others.”

You felt a soft flutter in your chest at his words, a mixture of longing and anticipation coursing through your veins. Despite the weight of the years that had passed, the desire to feel his lips against yours burned fiercely within you.

Without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Suguru. His lips met yours in a tender embrace, a silent exchange of love and longing that transcended the boundaries of time and space. In that fleeting moment, all the pain and sorrow of the past faded into insignificance, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his touch.

As you pulled away, you met Suguru's gaze, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered softly, his voice barely a breath against your lips.

Your heart flutters at his words.

He grins at you, wholeheartedly.

You admit, your heart is a little bit full.

But you knew it wasn’t as full as yet.

Satoru, you wanted to see Satoru too.

IT WAS DECEMBER 24TH 2018 WHEN GOJO SATORU ARRIVED AT THE AIRPORT. As you and Suguru stood by the airport benches, your embrace providing a comforting anchor amidst the chaos of the bustling terminal, a sense of tranquility settled over you. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private sanctuary.

But amidst this moment of serenity, a movement caught your eye, drawing your attention to a familiar figure nearby. There, amidst the deserted terminal, Satoru lay sleeping, his form peaceful and serene against the backdrop of the bustling airport.

You exchanged a glance with Suguru, a silent communication passing between you as you both recognized the significance of the moment. It was an unexpected reunion, one that held the promise of both joy and uncertainty.

For a moment, you simply stood there, lost in the quiet beauty of the scene before you. The terminal faded into the background, leaving only Satoru and the two of you in a timeless embrace. As you watched Satoru sleep, a rush of emotions swept over you, mingling with the tender affection you felt for him. It was a moment of unexpected beauty, a reminder of the enduring bond that connected the three of you, even across the vast expanse of time and space.

"He didn't even wait a year after you," you remarked to Suguru, a hint of annoyance creeping into your voice as you crossed your arms. "Nanami Ken-Ken, I understand. But the two of you?"

Suguru's snort was barely audible, but the wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips spoke volumes. Memories flooded his mind as he remembered the last time Nanami had made an unexpected appearance in the airport. He couldn't help but find amusement in the way you had reacted then – your expression a mix of shock and disappointment that was, in his eyes, utterly endearing.

In that moment, Suguru couldn't help but recall just how adorable you looked when you expressed such disappointment. He knew you well enough to recognize that pout – the one that often graced your lips when things didn't go as planned, or when someone didn't meet your expectations. It was a trait of yours that Satoru, too, was likely familiar with.

But Suguru understood the underlying reason behind your tendency to pout and lecture. It wasn't borne out of mere petulance or frustration; rather, it stemmed from a deep-seated care and concern for those around you. You had a heart that overflowed with love and compassion, and you wanted nothing more than for everyone to live longer, happier lives – even if it meant lecturing them endlessly or wearing that adorable pout.

It was this caring nature of yours that Suguru found so utterly captivating, and it was a trait that had endeared you to him even more over the years. As he looked at you now, lost in your thoughts, he couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for you – a silent acknowledgment of the depth of your love and the strength of your character.

As you stood in the airport, a familiar figure caught your eye. It was Nanami, standing there in the terminal, his presence a shocking revelation. Disbelief washed over you, mingled with a sense of incredulity. How could he be here after all this time? He was supposed to be alive and well. If anyone was going to outlive them all now, it would be Nanami. Suguru had said that he had left that life behind, after you and Haibara passed away. But to have seen him there, as young as you met him, rubbing the back of his head as you

Without a second thought, you rushed over to him, your voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of annoyance. "Nanami? What are you doing here?" you demanded, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. "You... you shouldn't be here. You're supposed to be..."

“Well, I’m here.” Nanami Kento replied to you, sighing, crossing his arms. He was as much a teenager as you remember him to be. “I’m dead, senpai.”

“You….”

But before you could finish your sentence, you launched into a tirade, peppering Nanami with questions and admonishments. "You can't just waltz into the airport like nothing happened!" you exclaimed, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Do you have any idea how bad this is? Suguru said you left Jujutsu! Why did you come back, you idiot?”

“......It’s not like I have anything to do.”

“Kento, is that you?” Yu Haibara’s mouth went agape as he stood before you all, looking at his closest friend. “You still look the same! Emo and all!”

Nanami frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Now, now,” Suguru tries to mitigate.

“Wait, I’m not done lecturing!” You impede, your brows furrowing. You sighed, lowering your head to your palm. “Let me think for a second, I’m overstimulating.”

Haibara grinned. “You can do it, senpai!”

“That’s not helping.” Nanami whispers.

“Shhhhhhhhh!” You put your index finger on your lip, glaring at him. “I’m not done!”

Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right ones, emotions swirling within you like a storm. But despite your agitation, Nanami Kento remained silent, his expression unreadable as he listened to your impassioned speech. He knew you weren’t going to stop. You were more the parent than Geto Suguru, after all.

At the sight of your antics, Suguru couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing softly through the terminal. "Leave it to you to give him a proper scolding, even after he's dead," he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You’re not out of the water either!”

"You make it seem like it was a choice for us to go down that route," Suguru replied, his tone tinged with resignation. It was a reminder of the circumstances that had led them here, to this peculiar purgatory where time seemed to stand still. “It is fate, whatever happened.”

"It is a choice," you insisted, leaning against Suguru's side as you settled down beside him on the bench. "I wanted to see you with white hair."

Suguru chuckled, his smile widening as he reached over to playfully poke at Satoru's hair. "You already see so much of that on Satoru," he remarked teasingly.

You swatted Suguru's hand away with a mock glare. "Hey, he might develop a bald spot with that!" you protested, unable to suppress a grin.

Suguru laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "He's already in the afterlife, he's gonna be fine," he reassured you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "We're not even sure if he's dead, Suguru! His soul is a bit glitchy from here!" you retorted back to your lover.

Suguru met your gaze with a playful smirk. "You can see souls?" he quipped, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"I'm dead, so obviously, I do!" you shot back, unable to resist a jab back at him.

Suguru's smirk widened into a grin as he considered your words. "What if we return him back to life and he's bald?" he mused, the corners of his lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

“That’s not funny, Suguru!”

Just as you and Suguru continued to trade playful banter, Satoru stirred from his slumber, blinking groggily as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of you and Suguru sitting beside him, the playful atmosphere of your conversation washing over him. You waved at him, happily greeting him. He couldn’t believe it. How he was seeing you greet him in that warm manner, as you always have when you were alive.

Satoru's initial disbelief gradually gave way to a sense of wonder as he took in the sight of you waving at him, a warm smile gracing your lips. It was a sight he had longed to see for years, a memory that he had held onto tightly even as the years stretched on in this strange limbo.

With a mixture of awe and gratitude, Satoru returned your wave, his heart swelling with emotion at the sight of you. It felt surreal, almost dreamlike, to be greeted by you in such a familiar manner, as if no time had passed at all.

For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in the warmth of your presence, the memory of your smile etched into his mind like a cherished treasure. It was a moment of pure bliss amidst the uncertainty of their existence in this surreal afterlife, a reminder of the enduring bond that connected them across the boundaries of life and death.

"Yo," Suguru greeted Satoru casually, a grin spreading across his face.

Satoru's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief as he processed the unexpected reunion. "This is freaking awful," he muttered, his words tinged with a mixture of incredulity and bemusement.

Geto pouted exaggeratedly, feigning offense at Satoru's response. "Hey, that's rude," he protested with mock indignation. “I can’t believe you greet the love of my life warmly but you greet me so cruelly.”

You let your tongue out at Suguru. “I’m his best friend, of course, bangs!”

He pinches your cheek as you squeal “You’re acting so cheekily again.”

Satoru sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "I told my students that when they die, they'll be alone," he explained, his tone tinged with a hint of resignation. "So I'm hoping this is just some illusion."

You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's melodramatic proclamation, shaking your head in amusement. It was a clearly playful jab, one that you had not been able to say to him in such a long time. "That’s actually such a loser statement, Satoru," you teased, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’ve gotten this lame over the years, Gojo–sensei?”

“I’m Satoru to you, thank you very much,” The blue eyed sorcerer pouts at you, crossing his arms. Though he had to admit, he liked the way you said Gojo–sensei. “And Yaga–sensei was the one who said it to me! Blame him, not me!”

As Satoru sat there, basking in the warmth of your presence, a wave of pure contentment washed over him, enveloping him in a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in years. The sound of your laughter was music to his ears. It was a harmony that he had been waiting to hear for a decade since you’ve passed. It was a feeling he struggled to put into words, a profound sense of happiness that seemed to resonate deep within his soul.

In that moment, surrounded by the familiar faces of you and Suguru, Satoru couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the opportunity to see you again. He had missed you more than words could express, longing for the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence during the long years of solitude in this airport purgatory.

Even as he grappled with the knowledge that he could never truly express his romantic feelings for you, Satoru found solace in the simple joy of being near you once more. For him, this moment was a glimpse of paradise, a fleeting taste of happiness that he would treasure for eternity.

In your presence, Satoru felt a sense of completeness that he had never known before, a feeling that transcended the boundaries of life and death. You were his paradise, his beacon of light in the darkness of this strange afterlife, and for that, he would be forever grateful.

As he sat there, savoring the precious moments with you, Satoru couldn't help but reflect on how his ten years in this limbo had led him to this beautiful reunion. Despite the uncertainties and challenges he had faced during his time here, none of it seemed to matter in comparison to the overwhelming joy of being with you once again.

He thought about all the times he had yearned to see your face, to hear your laughter, to feel the warmth of your touch. And now, as he sat beside you, surrounded by the gentle hum of the airport and the comforting presence of his friends, Satoru realized that this was where he truly belonged.

In your company, Satoru found a sense of peace and happiness that he had never known before. You were his anchor in this strange world, his guiding light through the darkness of uncertainty. And even though he could never express the depth of his feelings for you, he took comfort in the knowledge that he was with you, sharing this moment of bliss together. As the weight of his past burdens lifted from his shoulders, Satoru smiled, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. For in this moment, surrounded by the ones he cherished most, he knew that he was home.

“Does he know?” You asked Satoru, looking at him with a soft tone.

He looked at you with his blue eyes, his glasses lowering. “Who?”

“That boy, you’ve been taking care of.” You whisper back to him.

“How'd you know about him?”

“I met his father around here—”

"Who cares?" Geto's voice cut through the silence, breaking the tension with a note of indifference. “He killed you.”

"I know" you retorted back, your tone gentle yet firm. "But he deserves to know about his dad too, you know. That boy….family ties run deep, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

With a thoughtful nod, Satoru left the topic hanging in the air, shifting the focus to more pressing matters. "I've left it with Shoko to handle," he added, his tone indicating a sense of finality.

“We’re not even sure if you’re dead yet.” You whisper back to him, your hand resting on his. “You’ll be able to tell him.”

Satoru didn’t know how to tell you.

But you looked so beautiful to him.

He didn’t want to leave you here.

He wanted to stay with you and Suguru.

He wanted to be happy here, together.

“How was fighting Sukuna?” Suguru asked him, changing the topic.

"He was strong," Satoru admitted, his voice tinged with respect. "Even though he wasn't giving his all."

Suguru nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful as he considered Satoru's words. "It must have been quite the battle," he remarked, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

Satoru's lips curled into a wry smile, his demeanor surprisingly casual given the intensity of the confrontation. "It was exhilarating," he admitted, his voice carrying a note of genuine enjoyment. "But I can't help but feel a twinge of pity for Sukuna. He didn't bring his full strength to the table."

You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's nonchalant attitude, leaning affectionately against him as you basked in his presence. His scent enveloped you, a comforting reminder of the bond you shared. "Only the strongest would say something like that," you remarked fondly, your eyes sparkling with admiration. "As expected of you."

Geto's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of jealousy briefly clouding his expression as he processed Satoru's words. "That's what sets him apart," he acknowledged quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of envy. "But if you're content with the outcome, then perhaps that's all that truly matters."

Satoru's grin widened at Geto's response, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "I suppose I would have been more satisfied if you were there to spur me on," he teased, his tone laced with sincerity. He gently looks at Suguru and then at you. “It would have made me feel a little bit more at ease.”

“Don’t you mean, less cocky?” Suguru teased him back but Satoru just laughed.

You take a moment to express your heartfelt gratitude to Satoru, your voice filled with genuine emotion as you speak. "I'm proud of you, Satoru," you say, your words carrying the weight of years of admiration and affection. "After all you've done, after all you've been through... I'm just so happy to see you again, to be together with you and Suguru."

As you gaze at Satoru, a sense of completeness washes over you, the weight of years of separation lifting from your shoulders. "You've brought so much light into my life," you continue, your voice soft but filled with conviction. "My heart feels whole again, thanks to you."

“South or north,” Satoru says, after a moment of silence. “Where do you think I should go?”

Satoru's question lingered in the air like a heavy fog, casting a veil of uncertainty over the moment. You and Suguru exchanged a meaningful glance, both understanding the weight of Satoru's decision. Going south meant embracing the reunion, journeying together towards an uncertain but hopeful future. Going north meant bidding farewell once again, facing the prospect of separation with stoic resolve.

"Moving south," you begin, your gaze drifting towards the direction of the plane resting on the tarmac. You turn back to Satoru, a smile playing on your lips, though this one carries a hint of somberness. "Means you'll stay as you are."

Satoru takes in your words, his expression thoughtful as he absorbs their implications. Leaning against the airport bench, he looks at you and Suguru, the two people who make up his world, with a sense of resolve. "Here," he breathes out, his voice tinged with determination. "True to myself."

Suguru nods in understanding, his gaze shifting between you and Satoru. "But to go north…," he begins, his tone gentle yet firm. "You'll discover a new part of yourself. Another you."

Satoru's expression tightens slightly, the weight of his decision bearing down on him. "But without you," he adds, his voice heavy with unspoken regret. It's a realization he never wanted to voice, but one he knows he must confront. He isn't truly dead, and he can feel it as much as you can.

Your eyes soften as you meet Satoru's gaze, your palm instinctively resting on top of his hand in a gesture of comfort. "Just for now," you assure him, your voice filled with warmth and understanding. "It's not forever."

"We'll wait for you, until the next flight," Suguru chimes in, his grin conveying unwavering strength for the blue eyed sorcerer. Together, the three of you stand at the crossroads of possibility, each prepared to face the future with courage and determination, no matter which path Satoru chooses. “Even if everyone goes ahead, we’ll be here. Waiting for you.”

Satoru's eyes soften as he stands, his gaze shifting towards the north. With a determined nod, he takes a step forward, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that transcends words. Leaning in, he presses a gentle kiss on your hair, a silent gesture of gratitude and affection for all that you mean to him.

Satoru's warm smile illuminated his features as he turned to Suguru, a silent expression of gratitude and affection passing between them. With gentle tenderness, he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on Suguru's cheek, a simple yet profound gesture of love and reassurance.

Suguru's eyes met Satoru's, a softness reflecting in their depths as they exchanged a silent conversation. It was a moment of quiet understanding, a wordless exchange that spoke volumes of their deep bond and unwavering commitment to each other.

In that moment, as you looked at them and they looked back at you, you felt a profound sense of reassurance. Their eyes held the promise of a brighter tomorrow, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring power of love. It was as if they were whispering to you with the windows of their souls, assuring you that everything would be alright, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

As Satoru straightens, his resolve firm and his heart heavy with the weight of his decision, he meets your gaze one last time. In that fleeting moment, you share a silent understanding, a mutual promise to await his return and embrace whatever the future may hold. Suguru wraps his arms around you, grinning at Satoru.

With one final glance at the two of you. You urge him forward, your eyes swimming with a watery glaze. He smiles at you and whispers to you, to Suguru – ‘I love you’;

‘I know.’ Both you and Suguru whisper back.

As Gojo Satoru takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed towards the north, a sense of resolve washes over him. He knows not what awaits him on the path ahead, but he steps forward with unwavering courage and determination. The road may be shrouded in uncertainty, but he finds solace in the knowledge that the bonds of love, forged over years of companionship and camaraderie, will serve as his guiding light.

You and Suguru stand by, silent witnesses to Satoru's journey, your presence a source of strength and support. Though the time for your reunion may not yet have come, Satoru carries your wishes in his heart as he ventures forth into the unknown. He is determined to fulfill your desire for him to live a long and happy life, to carry on in your memory and honor your legacy.

But there are tasks still left unfinished, promises yet to be fulfilled. Satoru's thoughts turn to the future, to the responsibilities that await him. He must see to it that your final wishes are carried out, that you and Suguru find peace together. He must be there for Shoko, for Megumi, for his students who look up to him with admiration and respect. They still need him, relying on his guidance and wisdom to navigate the trials that lie ahead.

With each step he takes, Satoru embraces the uncertainty of the journey, knowing that with courage and determination, he will find his way home. And though the road may be long and fraught with challenges, he walks it with the assurance that love will light the way, leading him back to the warmth and comfort of your embrace, one day. But not yet. For now, he walks forward, his heart filled with hope and his spirit fortified by the knowledge that you and Suguru will always be with him, guiding him home.

It may take some time.

He’d be away from you.

But he knows he’ll return.

Three of you, together.

You’ll be happy together.

173 notes · View notes

tangylemonade · 3 months

Text

Last Night

Heeseung x afab reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT •

SMUT (w/cursing)

About 2.3k

I was having Heeseung hard hours and wrote this last night. I barely edited it so let me know if you find any spelling mistakes 😽.

Let me know what you think and please COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed.

Thank you for reading 😊

Don’t fuck the talent.

Seems simple enough, right?

Right.

So could someone kindly explain how and why you were currently under Heeseung at 3 in the mornings making the bed shake to a sinful tune.

Waking up the morning after while ‘shit shit shit’ played on repeat in your head as you looked over at the slender yet muscular frame that was cuddled up against you, arm draped over your waist.

A glance at his watch revealed it was the afternoon and you let out a groan.

The sun filtered and flickered through the curtains as the wind from the open window sent them aflutter, your wind chimes pleasantly singing.

The man stirred next to you, slowly opening his eyes, squinting as the sunlight beamed down on his unfairly handsome face. The rays felt comforting and warm on your skin despite the cool air that was blowing through. Tricky situation aside, you found yourself suddenly smiling at how satisfied and well rested you felt this lovely morning.

Heeseung on the other hand, who was still going through the initial shock, sat up quickly and looked down at you who didn’t even bother to move from your relaxed posture in bed.

No benefit in panicking now you thought, not after the way he licked your pussy and sucked you clit until you shook last night.

You could almost see recounts of the night racing through his doe eyes.

He looked at you again, this time staring as a blush slowly crept into his face.

You raised an eyebrow confused.

You hadn’t realized that the blanket had been removed in his panicked scramble.

But he did.

He noticed everything from how the warm sun glistened on your glowy skin to how the light reflecting from the wind chimes you had hung on your curtain rod danced along the curves and lines of your body, furter enticing the beauty that had him mindless.

“Uhh..you.” He stuttered, his eyes flickering across your body, finally drawing your attention to the reason for his sudden shyness.

“Oh..” you pulled the blanket around your chest and sat up.

You weren’t the only one still in your birthday suit.

Now sitting up your eyes couldn’t help but wander along his body.

Quickly noticing your line of vision, Heeseung pulled the blanket around his waist.

Your face felt warm despite the fact that just hours ago your mouth had kissed and licked out all of the curses he knew in English and Korean.

As thoughts of last night began to settle back in the panic you thought you’d curbed rejoined the party setting off your dreadful habit of word vomiting.

“Listen.” You said breaking the silence. “Heesung, I'm sorry. This really is my fault. I should’ve been more responsible. Especially since I’m…”

Heeseung wanted to listen but he just couldn’t focus. Not when the way your pretty lips moved sent more replays of what else you had done with them flashing through his mind.

Agonizingly his cock began to throb despite his internal plees with himself to calm down.

But he couldn’t. Not when he experienced the way your beautiful mouth felt wrapped around him just hours ago. The way your lush body fit in his hands as he felt you the way he’d always wanted to. Not when he finally got to kiss your lips and they tasted exactly as he knew they would. Sweet and supple.

Now all he could focus on was how much he wanted to kiss you again.

“Heeseung?”

The beautiful sound of your voice calling his name brought him back to the present. He looked up at you only to find you looking down. Following your eyes he saw the tent in the blanket he’d loosely pulled around himself.

“You weren’t listened to a thing I said were you?” You asked, face burning once again.

You stood and wrapped the sheet around you, tucking it into itself so it would stay up.

Heeseung didn’t even bother to cover his erection as he stood and wrapped the towel he’d tossed on the floor last night around his waist, tucking it the same as you.

The regret and shame of your previous actions no longer pulled on him. Not even one little bit. And how could they when you were still so beautiful in front of him and he knew he wouldn’t blink before he did it all again.

“I always imagined what it would be like to have you under me.” Heeseung suddenly proclaimed.

You backed up as he stepped closer to you, blinking in shock at his sudden statement.

He continued to walk closer until your back was against the wall and he was so close to you that his erection brushed against your thigh.

“Heeseung th-this is serious.” You said, squeezing your legs together. You suddenly felt desire pooling hot in your core. “We-we could get in trouble. We shouldn’t…”

“Why?” He said, suddenly cutting you off. “Why when we clearly both have been wanting this”

“Heeseung…“

“It was dumb to think I could stop craving you after one taste.”

“That was the plan Heeseung. One night. We get it out of our systems and move on.”

The heat from his body felt so good in the cold winter morning air so you could barely think straight.

“Well that was the dumbest fucking idea Y/N because right now��I- I want you more then ever.”

His strong fingers wrapped around your hand before traveling up your arms leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Cupping your face with gentle hands, he looked into your eyes with his big round brown ones.

Those eyes you couldn’t resist and couldn’t deny.

You wanted to run, scream, and kiss him all at once. You swallowed and pitifully searched his eyes for any sign to end this but all you saw was the same look that got you in the mess in the first place.

“That’s why I said I’m sorry.” You choked out “I was wrong to think we should’ve indulged in any of this. I was drunk- I…”

“You and I both know you weren’t darling.” He said cutting you off once again. Heeseung didn’t see the point in lying just to deny your obvious infatuation with each other. Neither of you were stupid.

You looked away from him, afraid to cry or say anything else.

Heeseung softly caught your chin between his index finger and thumb, bringing your eyes back to his.

Looking into your shaking pupils he knew right away just how scared you were.

Scared to pursue something you weren’t certain of. Something that could end so badly for both of you.

But he also knew that he was right. You couldn’t have been more sober last night.

You had wanted him just as much as he needed you.

You still do.

“Fuck!” you said under you breath. It was too late to turn back now.

But even if you could, would you?

You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you. His mouth was so very warm against yours as he invited you in. Your hands raked through his hair and he undid the tuck of the sheet from around your body.

Heeseung pulled you closer to him as the wrinkled white linen pooled around your ankles, his hands once again finding purchase against the smoothness of your body.

Your nipples were hard against his chest as he pressed you between him and the wall, your back arching to escape the cold.

His towel that loosed on the commotion joined the white bundle of fabric at your ankles and his erection, now freed, pressed against your stomach tantalizingly.

You reached down instinctively and began to stroke his silky member, pre cum already seeping from the tip. He groaned into your mouth and you hummed in satisfaction at the way everything felt perfect with him.

His hands unable to pick one thing to focus went up and down as he squeezed your thighs and hips then your waist and boobs.

All of you.

Heeseung wanted to have all of you.

Ever since the first day you showed up and were introduced as the choreographer for their most recent song. Your radiant smile left his heart pounding and his palms sweaty. Focusing on the moves you showed became increasingly more challenging when he noticed how sensually your body moved with every dance.

And good god you smelled heavenly.

He cursed himself for acting like a creep but one day he caught you watching him in the mirror and his thoughts began to wander beyond his control.

What if?… no. It wasn’t possible. But…what if you thought about him too.

As impossible as it seemed his suspicions were undeniably confirmed when he saw the lust filled gaze in your eyes yesterday while celebrating the songs first win with the members and staff.

You excused yourself and he talked himself into following you a little bit after, catching you in the parking garage on the way to your car.

“Hi?” You said, feigning confusion as if you hadn’t just been telepathically begging him to ravish you..

But you knew why he came. It was the same reason why you were leaving.

You didn’t want to do anything stupid but the opportunity was too tempting to let go.

You’d talked with Heeseung many times during work and each time you spent every opportunity flirting while it often felt like he was trying to undress you with his eyes.

It was too much tonight. You felt like you had to leave or you might fuck him right there in front of everyone. His eyes that twinkled into yours was the final straw.

Your mind screamed at you that this was off limits but your body wouldn’t comply.

You didn’t stop him from giving you a ride home and you didn’t stop him from pressing you up against the inside of your house door as you tore each other's clothes off.

And right now you didn’t stop Heeseung from doing it all again as he pressed you up against the wall after you slid a condom onto his aching cock.

You didn’t stop him even a little bit as he slid into you, catching you as your knees buckled a bit from the instant pleasure.

The sound of you moaning his name had him gritting his teeth with increasing desire.

Your lips were swollen and hot with Heesungs kisses.

His sucks and nibbles at your collarbone would surely leave marks but you didn’t care in the least bit.

His hips rolling into you at a breathstoping rhythm was all you could process.

You held onto his back, your nails digging into him as the heat began to deepen in your core.

Heeseung’s cock twitched inside of you, your walls squeezing and milking him in the most delicious way.

Moans fell from his kissed pink lips as your pussy swallowed him and left him feeling dizzy.

Heeseung lifted your thigh against his hip, skillfully rolling into you. It only took a bit longer before his orgasm rippled through him, his heat filling the condom. And it wasn’t long after him that you followed, the fluttering of your pussy delectably squeezing his pleasure into overstimulation.

You twitched in his arms as he did a few more lazy strokes before pulling out and leaving you feeling strangely empty without the stretch of him.

You stayed leaning against Heeseung as he held you up against the wall. He peppered little kisses on your neck and shoulder as you both caught your breath enough to head to the bathroom.

“Now.” he said softly, lifting you up and placing a kiss on your nose. “Let’s go shower and eat breakfast.”

The simply nodded still too drunk off of his dick to do anything else.

He gingerly caressed your skin as he helped you wash (despite you being completely capable of the task yourself) leaving you feeling absolutely dreamy. You couldn’t resist making out in the shower so you didn’t even try but sadly it was cut short by the ring of Heeseung’s phone reminding you two to stop screwing around.

“You're lucky the live isn’t until 6.” Jake said to Heeseung over the phone.

You sat quietly as you chewed on a bit of toast and jam Heeseung had so kindly made while you prepared the eggs.

You started to quietly laugh at the way Jake was scolding Heeseung but that ended quickly when you heard your name being mentioned.

“I know your with Y/N because you guys had been eye fucking all last night so don’t even try to deny it.”

Heesung laughed at your wide open eyes of shock and you could practically hear Jake rolling his eyes.

“Whatever.” Jake said. “You need to be at the shop in like 30 minutes so don’t be late or I tell everybody exactly why you are.”

Heesung hung up on Jake without a word.

“Should I give you a ride?” You asked.

Heeseung nodded in agreement before going back to eating his breakfast in no rush.

You grabbed a jacket from your closet before putting your keys in your bag and heading for the door.

Heeseung, who was already ready and leaning against the door waiting for you, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you against him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

He leaned in, carefully placing a soft kiss on your smiling lips.

“Yup,” Heeseung said after he pulled away from the kiss.

You tilted your head and raised your eyebrows inquisitively. “What?”

“You taste too fucking good to quit.”

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lacedinweb22 · 4 months

Text

About Last Night °✧*:･ (Miguel's POV)

Miguel O'Hara x reader ♱✮♱ Vampire Next Door (ch. 8) prev part

*+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+*

I wake up splayed on my living room couch. My ears ring, skin tingling, buzzing at me, trying to tell me something. I feel her eyes on me.

She’s sat at the kitchen counter, looking at a pile of blueprints.

I don’t get hungover; my genotype won’t allow it, but I suppose it's had worse shit mess with it. I stand up slowly then walk towards the counter, to her.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Good morning, Mig.”

“How did you sleep? How was the bed? Are you hung over?”

“I’m good, I’m fine,” she smiles up at me, softly. It gives me that feeling in my chest.

She looks down, her brows knit together.

“Last night was something, huh? Quite an eventful night,” she nods, looking down at the prints, avoiding my stare.

“It was…”

“I’m sorry, I– I shouldn’t have come onto you, I mean you were drunk and I–”

“You’re saying it like it was a mistake…”

“No– I mean yeah well, I pulled you into me,”

“I cornered you in the closet– it’s on me too, Y/N… did you not… mean it?”

“You were drunk, Mig, you didn’t mean it.”

“What didn’t I mean? How would you know?”

She pauses, tilts her head.

“After the party, you walked me back, that stuff you said, it was the alcohol. You were drunk.”

“I uhh put a happy face on your final paper,” I exhale as we drag our feet back to our corner of the apartment building.

“Do you … remember that?” I ask.

She looks up at me, nodding, softly smiling. She looks back down.

“Yeah, hm, that fed my delusions for quite a bit.”

“You weren’t delusional. I saw you,”

“How? I sat in the way back, Mig.”

“I liked the way you wrote. I liked to read you, liked the way your mind worked. Still do.”

“Are you drunk?”

“I am … but I still mean what I say.”

Her eyebrows furrow, then soften up with a smile. Wish she believed me.

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it,”

“We just met, Mig, and I just, I wanted it to be real.”

“Everything I said was true. Did we not go to the same university? I knew who you were, I read you, and it felt like– I knew you… Where is this coming from? What did it mean to you, huh? I wasn’t asking for your hand in marriage–”

I wince at my words.

She slowly gets off of the stool.

“Yeah, it was a mistake,” she mutters, reaching for the door.

“Y/N, no. I just—”

Her cheeks are flushed, and I take a deep breath, realizing the overwhelming weight in my chest, watching her leave, watching her realize I was her mistake.

I watch her retreat. She shuts the door, shuts me out.

****

I come back from work, climbing through the window, when I feel the buzzing again.

It comes from the other side of the hall. Unfamiliar voices.

I open my door.

It’s maintenance.

I stand in the hallway, watching men converse, walking in with their tool boxes.

“Y/N? Is Y/N there?”

“Yes, sir. She’s in the bathroom, showing the guys.”

“Y/N,” I call out. I hear her footsteps approaching, recognizing the weight, the creak that comes with her steps.

She looks surprised to see me, which ends abruptly, her face growing unamused.

“What do you want?”

“Why didn’t you come get me? I could’ve done it for you!”

“Done what.”

“Fixed whatever needed to be fixed.”

“That seems like… like something a married person would do for the person they’ve married,”

“You brat. Dios. They’re going to be here all night! There’s three men in your apartment right now. It would’ve been a one man job for me.”

“There’s also a woman working inside, sexist,” she shrugs.

I cross my arms.

“Mig, it’s fine. I’ll lock my bedroom door.”

“Do you hear the ruckus they’re making? Think you’ll be able to sleep through that?”

She pauses, thinking.

“It’s late. Stay at mine again. Please— for both of our peace of mind.”

“Mig,”

“Stay at mine. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

****

I open to her knocks. She storms in, right past me, heading to the couch, pillow in hand.

“Y/N, I said you could sleep on my bed.”

“No. We’re not married, remember? It’s your bed,” she raises her palms at me, “Couldn’t touch it. That would be a sin.”

“God, can you drop that?”

“You started it.”

“Funny.”

“And I’m only staying here because it’s either them keeping me up or you keeping me up with all your loud sex activities,” she mutters, pulling the blanket off from the top of the couch and over her, laying down.

“Sex– I don’t have sex activities. I’m just boxing, or… or reorganizing my bathroom cabinets. Ay, cállate y duérmete. I’ve had enough of you.” Ugh, shut up and go to sleep.

“You sleep,” she mutters, muffled under the blanket. Her eyes are closed.

****

I sit at the kitchen counter, scribbling on a blueprint, as she sleeps on the couch.

I look up every once in a while, wincing at the clinging of metal across the hall, checking if it was audible to her. Our ears work differently.

The living room isn’t as warm as my bedroom. She’s all bundled up.

I get my blanket from my bedroom and bring it over to her.

Her eyes are closed, the bottom half of her face is covered by the blanket. I cover her up with another layer.

I turn to walk away, when I feel warmth tug at my wrist.

“Did you mean it? Did I really mean anything to you back then?” she whispers.

I stop in my tracks, looking down at the carpet under me. It’s hard to be sober and… open.

“Yes… Y/N,” I whisper down at her. She opens her eyes.

“I liked you then,” she whispers through the blanket.

I nod, then look back down at her, “I get that now.”

She lets go of my wrist.

“Are you comfortable? Do you want my bed?”

“Are you going to stay up working? I don’t want to steal your bed again.”

“I’ll probably be up for a while working on something. Take my bed. Vamos,” let’s go.

She slowly gets up, as I take the blankets off of her and sling them over my shoulder.

I lead her down the hall, then open the door into darkness.

“I’ll never get over how huge your bed is.”

“I’m tall.” She looks up at me then scoffs.

She approaches the lamp on my bedside table, touches the pull chain then looks back up at me. I nod.

The room becomes dimly lit up by orange light. She looks up at me before slowly getting into my bed. It makes my heart race.

She stays on one side of the bed. I walk over to where she lays, and gently layer the two blankets over her.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” I nod, adjusting the blanket over her shoulder.

“Good luck with the blueprints.”

****

Two hours pass. I check in on her, slowly opening the door. She lays on her side, eyes opened, staring at the wall.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper from the doorway.

“Just thinking,” she whispers back, turning to look at me, “Creep.”

“Just checking on you… what’s wrong?”

“Lay with me.”

“I– okay.”

I sink onto the other side of the bed.

I lay on my back, arms crossed.

She turns to face me, lying on her side.

“I’ve been stuck in the past, Mig. I’ve been confused about everything lately, everything but… you, ” she exhales.

My heart skips a beat, and I don’t know what to say, though I know I feel the same.

Say something, idiot.

She closes her eyes, eyebrows furrowed. “Do you want me?”

I gulp, then nod. Thought it was clear.

“Then say something.”

“You know how I feel–”

“I don’t,”

A sigh escapes me.

“Can’t you feel it? I don’t know how to put it into words. I’m trying.”

“I know, I know.”

She grabs the hand I have rested on my side and squeezes it.

And she looks up at me, like she can see me, the me I can’t even see in myself, the one I thought died a year ago.

I grab her hand and put it to my face. I let her feel the warmth in my cheeks, the flush she put there.

I sigh, gather my thoughts.

“So what will it take for you to fall asleep?”

She hums in thought.

“Just stay with me for a bit.”

She turns, grabbing my hand and placing it on her side.

“Earlier, you said we just met, now you want me to touch you?”

“Then don’t. Refuse,” she mutters, pulling the sheets higher over her shoulder, half of her face now covered.

“You know I can’t do that.”

I turn on my side, then rest my face in my hand. She looks up at me, and I feel things I haven’t felt… maybe ever.

“I like you, Miguel O’Hara,” she sighs.

“I like you, Y/N.”

I find myself brushing my fingers through her hair. I find myself wanting to lull her to sleep. I find myself wanting to be soft for her. And it pains me.

She closes her eyes, but I can tell she’s smiling under the sheets.

⁺˚*･

next part here

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Note

Hi, I wanted to ask for a fluff fanfic about having like a hair care day with Hobie and we have to take out he’s wicks (I hope that’s ok with you)

Hi, angel! Thank you for requesting and all the love on my works! I did some research on how to take care of wicks so I could write this properly and accurately, I hope I wrote it okay! Ly 😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF.

A/N: don't waste water, kids 😆

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“So I said to her ‘you're being unfair to Anton’ and you know what she said to me?” you peak over to look at Hobie, his eyes are closed, face relaxed as you wash his hair.

You sit on a little stool placed in the middle of the tub, your hand on the shower head, the other is massaging his scalp. Your entire bottom half is drenched with lukewarm water, feet soaked and slicked with shampoo.

His head rests on the edge of the tub, propped up with a soft fluffy towel for comfort. Hobie sits on a similar stool, body away from the cold tiles. After numerous tries in finding the best and most efficient position, practically turning yourself into an acrobat with how you were folding your body into different positions to wash Hobie’s hair; you've finally cracked the code, albeit it looked funny at first. He even suggested washing his hair in the sink, which you turned down. You're not letting him bend over a sink and eventually hurt his back. Just the idea of washing his hair on the dirty sink (which was counterproductive) made you invent this ridiculous position.

Getting your clothes wet was well worth it though as you watch him slowly crack his eye open accompanied with a soft smile.

“What’d she say?” He whispers, clearly hiding his sleepiness, induced by your massaging and gentle washing. You could barely hear it from the rush of water from the shower head.

“She said ‘get off my back’ a bit rude, huh?” you wipe a stray water droplet away from his eyelid.

“Mm-hmm” he hums, absolutely relaxed to the bone.

“I'm all done, Hobie— aaand you're asleep” you take notice of his soft snores. You sigh, admiring his sleeping face.

On a regular day you would've let him sleep, but this is the only time you could maintain and re-style his wicks. In between spider responsibilities and yours, this was a long awaited hair care day, scheduled weeks ago to accommodate your busy schedules.

You wake him up with a soft pat of his cheek. Hobie sleeps soundly, you're already feeling guilty for even trying to wake him up. Face upside down, you kiss his forehead. When that still doesn't work, you surrender, he deserves to rest. You can always continue the routine when he wakes up.

Taking the nearby towel, you gently pat the sides of his face dry first. Then there's a silent realization, how in the world are you getting him to bed? You're definitely not gonna let him sleep in the bathroom, no matter how cozy he looks.

“Babe?” You whisper into his ear. “Hobie, you gotta wake up so you can sleep properly in the bedroom”

“Huh?” Miraculously, he opens his eyes, his mind still asleep. “What?”

“You fell asleep while I was washing your hair. Guess I did too good, huh?”

“Hmm, you did, love” he yawns, “‘m awake now, please continue”

“You were out cold, I can always finish it after you've rest”

Hobie sits up, stretching his arms above his head, he turns around the stool to face you. Water drips onto the towel wrapped around his shoulders.

“I'm awake, see?” you're not entirely convinced with how his eyes slowly droop.

“I don't think so” you chuckle.

He rolls his eyes, you can see that he got an idea with how his lips curl into a mischievous smile. Before you could ask, he shakes his head rapidly. Water sprays all over your face from his still wet hair, you try to shield yourself with your arms, but it's too late, he's already finished with his attack.

Hobie laughs loudly, it bounces off the walls, emphasizing his happiness. Meanwhile, you look at him like you ran through a car wash. You're sopping wet, glaring at him all the while.

“I hand you my heart and you've betrayed me” you say dramatically.

“Sorry,” he chuckles all throughout the word. “Now we're both awake” Hobie pokes your wet cheeks.

Two can play at that game. You fling the shower head towards his face, water sprays him as he yells out a ‘is that how it is?!’ he splutters out, wet from head to toe. Hobie’s too quick though, he wrestles the shower head from your hand, you screech, smiling and giggling. Water drenches you two, the entire bathroom wet from your play fight.

He's mindful of his own strength, careful not to let you slip and fall off the stool. Hobie cradles your back with one arm, one leg up inside the tub and a knee on the edge to stabilize himself. With one quick movement of his leg, he shuts the water off with his foot.

You gasp out at his ingenious plan, hand over his bare chest. Hobie uses your reaction to smooch you with a wet kiss. You finally let him win, smiling throughout the kiss.

Will you ever finish the routine though? Maybe in a few hours after he's done attacking your face.

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astolfofo · 1 year

Text

TW: NON CON, power abuse, al haitham just being al haitham (he's a red flag y'all), power abuse, choking

bruh I just realized I wrote this at 2am last night, while being boderline drunk and high and there's probably spelling mistakes in here. I believe I deleted all the parts where my hand kept slipping but this is not proofread so heads up for that.

so.

yandere kaveh and yandere al haitham with an unaware darling that is oblivious to their hints. like doesn't see that they like them at all. only thinks they're being nice.

but then, they eventually see darling with another man. and it enrages them a lot. because, how dare you hold hands or talk to another man while they've been so kind to you? and all you did was reject their advances? do you really hate them that much?

obviously, they've got different ways of expressing their... envy. Kaveh's much more direct about it than Al Haitham. Kaveh wants to directly kidnap you and wants to punish you directly for this. However, Al Haitham otherwise. You see, Al Haitham thinks about everyone equally, but he's also the kind of guy that would expect whatever he gave to be returned. This obviously includes affection. Not only that, but you embarrassed him, you know? You don't need a punishment. You need a lesson taught to you.

And after much bickering between these two, they finally compromise. They'll take you (that was inevitable from the start), in the most excruciatingly painful way possible.

First, they'll ruin your academic reputation. Rumors went out that you were being scandalous with your current boyfriend. At the same time, you're accused of faking many of your papers (a blatant lie on Al Haitham's behalf) but people believed it either way. and once your reputation is ruined, you find yourself in Al Haitham's office.

You're expelled.

You stand there in shock. You couldn't believe it. The rumors were fake, you argue. They were made up, and Al Haitham knows that. Still, Al Haitham scoffs and tells you that there's no changing the current course of events. If you didn't want to be banished from grounds, you shouldn't have done the things you did.

"What did I even do?" you asked. The shock was still in your mind, numbing everything else from happening. You'd need a plan on what to do next.

"You should be clearly aware of what you did to yourself. This is only the result of your own actions."

You and Al Haitham both knew he was abusing his power, but you were in no position to argue about that. So, while now being jobless, you go back to your dorm and pack everything up. Your mind is so filled with negative thoughts while simultaneously wondering what to do next to notice Kaveh inside your dorm.

As you're packing up, you don't notice Kaveh walking into the room. you're painfully oblivious to your surroundings since you're lost in your own mind. the anger, rage, anxiety you felt made everything else impossible to sense.

And them the emotions that were boiling inside of exploded, and then turned into nothing. You felt tears running down your cheeks, you felt an immeasurable amount of dread for your future. What the hell. were you supposed to do?

At the same time, you felt an arm wrap around your neck. You attempt to look back and see who it was, but found it impossible.

The grip gets tighter and tighter over your neck, until you almost black out. You hear five words: this is your own fault. and then the world goes black.

When you wake up, your head feels terrible. You don't know where you are, or how you got here. The dorm looks similar to your own, albeit a little larger with more expensive instruments inside it.

you take a glance around. and then it hits you again.

you were kidnapped.

At this very moment, Kaveh walks into the room, and you swore to yourself this situation couldn't get any worse.

TW FOR HARD NON CON DOWN BELOW

Kaveh forces you onto your knees while you're sobbing, since you know that he was the one that kidnapped you.

You look at Al Haitham that's sitting in the corner watching this all happen.

Meanwhile Kaveh's going a mile a minute about how much he loves you, and how you ignored all their advances, just to be seen with another man, and that this is the least you deserve for doing that. Not only did you ruin their faces, you dare flat out deny their affections to you?

You deserve this. if anything.

---

Kaveh forces his entire length down your throat, which causes you to choke. But that doesn't stop him in the slightest. In fact, he was enjoying your suffering. Every second of it.

Not to mention, how good your mouth felt around his cock, how could he stop? So he kept going, not giving two damns about whether you were struggling to breathe, or what he was doing.

And while you were fighting for the oxygen to go to your lungs, while uncontrollably sobbing, you saw out of the corner of your eye, that Al Haitham was getting off to this. And then, a wave of dread washed over you. Fear, if anything. You had a sinking suspicion of what was going to happen next, and you didn't want to let it happen.

Al Haitham walks towards you, eyeing how helpless you are. You really... really, can't do much without him or kaveh, can you?

He eyes your bare figure for a second, and you desperately try to close your legs, but he forces them open.

And your worst fear comes true.

Al Haitham slowly puts one finger inside your hole, causing you to sharply inhale from the sensation. the sensation feels extremely unpleasant, due to the friction, and being dry beforehand.

and then he slowly starts moving that finger, causing you to moan, very muffled, since Kavehs cock was still inside your mouth.

It hurt. A lot. Your throat felt like it was going to break in on itself from being pounded by Kaveh's dick, and the friction stung from Al Haithams fingers.

And then, Al Haitham inserted another finger. You were trying your very best not to give the men a reaction, but they seemed not to care either way. The sounds that filled the room made you wince in digust, but it wasn't like you could stop them from happening.

And you also felt something building building up too. Something like a string that was being pulled harder, and harder, until it would...

and then all motions ceased.

Kaveh and Al Haitham both stopped stopped their actions, and you felt something. Frustrated? Confused?

You weren't sure.

But all you knew was you were physically and mentally exhausted. and that you could no longer stay conscious. Too exhausted to process or feel traumatized but what just happened.

And so you passed out from exhaustion, yet again, clueless to how Kaveh's and Al Haitham's facial expressions darkened as you did.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #al haitham x reader #yandere al haitham x reader #yahdere kaveh #yandere al haitham #kaveh x reader #yandere kaveh x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #kaveh smut #al haitham smut #delete later probably lmfao.

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hwashotcheeto · 4 months

Text

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆

Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: After you fall ill, your loving boyfriend promises to take care of you

WC: 1.4k

Content: Fluffy sick fic! So fluffy! Cuddles, lil bit of crying, lots of comfort, Hwa being an overbearing partner

AN: I wrote this because a) I got COVID 😭 and b) because I love comfort/sick fics. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it, because oh, I got emotional writing it.

Moodboard credit again goes to my lovely @malldreamprincess . Thank you again sweetie 💜

Of all things you expected to wake up to, being sick definitely wasn't one of them.

You stood in the kitchen, a hot drink in one hand to soothe your sore throat, and in your other hand, a COVID test. You stared at the little window, waiting to see if the other line would appear to tell you if you had caught the plague or not.

And unfortunately, that second line appeared.

As the revelation came over you, it seemed as if your body realized it had the cursed sickness the same minute you did, and all the symptoms came crashing into you at once.

A frustrated groan leaves your lips as the body aches begin, like a vice gripping onto different parts of your body. You slam the test on the counter and go to sit down at the table. You take a sip of your drink, and right after, you're choking up phlegm and spitting it into the trash.

Then the headache hit, and you were done with the day before it even began.

You put your cup down and held your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes. Your first day off from work in a week, and you somehow got sick. The irony of it all was the cruelest joke you could think of.

Your boyfriend came into the kitchen, his eyes still half closed from sleep. You didn't get the chance to say anything before he saw the test.

“This is what your sore throat was?” Seonghwa asked, his morning voice low and scratchy. You nodded and looked down at the table as you rubbed the tears out of your eyes.

He caught the small movement and went over to you, putting his arm around your shoulders. Instinctively, you moved away from him, not wanting to get him sick.

But when you looked at Seonghwa, he looked genuinely hurt. His eyes were heavy and his shoulders were down.

“I don't want to get you sick,” you tried to explain, but Seonghwa was already walking up to you and pulling you against his chest, his arms around your waist.

“If you were already showing symptoms yesterday, then you had it yesterday, and I've probably already got it.”

He was right, but for some reason, the idea makes you tear up again and you lean into his neck, hugging him back. The cries and whimpers come a few seconds later.

Seonghwa didn't say anything. He just held you tight, slowly rocking back and forth.

And it felt good. You felt awful, sure, but it felt good to cry. To be held by your loving boyfriend, and to cry out your frustration.

You and Seonghwa had made plans today. You were going to finally hang out for the first time in a while, doing cute couple things instead of coexisting. You were going to make breakfast together, then play video games, maybe watch some movies too. You two were even going to go out to dinner and spend some time out, just wandering the streets.

And now you were sick and couldn't do all those things. The cries come out harder and you hug Seonghwa tighter.

“I got you, jagiya,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead after. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll take care of you.”

“But you'll get sick,” you tried to protest.

“I don't care.” He put his hand on your cheek and tilted your head up, wiping your tears with his thumb. “I'll spend all day with you. And tomorrow, and the next day, for however long you're sick.

“Seonghwa, I can handle-”

“Jagi, don't push me away.” His eyes changed then, back to that sadness when you moved away from him. “Please. I want to take care of you.” His hand moved to the back of your neck, cradling your head and neck in his palm. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, just before he pulled you in for a soft kiss, solidifying his promise and sealing his fate.

At that moment, you considered yourself the luckiest person on the planet. To have someone who loved you so much, they'd throw caution to the wind just to stay with you while you were sick. Not because they had to care for you, because they wanted to.

Seonghwa helped you dry your tears before he gave you another forehead kiss. “What do you want for breakfast? Say it, I’ll make it for you.”

“I'm not very hungry,” you started, but Seonghwa cut you off.

“You're going to eat breakfast. You need it, especially now that you're sick. Now what can I make you?”

You can't help but smile. Your loving boyfriend has always been overbearing, like a mother, and you've always loved it. He took care of you better than anyone else, he was always there to get you food or water, help with chores, ask you how you were feeling.

Sometimes, it's annoying, but it comes from a place of love. He wants you to be happy and healthy, because he truly loves you more than anything else.

Even more than Star Wars and Lego. That's a lot of love.

You stayed next to Seonghwa as he made you your requested breakfast. You boiled a pot of water to make yourself tea for your throat, upon Seonghwa's insistence.

“I can just drink water.”

“The tea will help, jagi, I promise.”

Seonghwa made two plates of food, and you both went to eat on the couch. You were wrapped up in a blanket and pressed up against Seonghwa’s side. He had his arm around you, eating his food with one hand as he cuddled you. He still managed to finish before you, somehow.

After breakfast, despite your protests, Seonghwa brought your dishes back to the kitchen. You were used to your boyfriend’s cleanliness, and honestly, you appreciated it. But today, you wanted his cuddles more than you wanted his perfectionism.

When he came back, you made sure to hold him in place with your body weight. He noticed it and couldn't help but laugh.

“I'm here, jagi, it's okay.”

“You left me,” you whined, pressing your face into his shoulder.

“For a minute.”

“But you promised.”

“I know, I promised, but I'm here now. For the rest of the day, I'll bring you with, okay?”

You nodded this time, feeling the fatigue already creeping back up on you. Thankfully, Seonghwa had prepared for this, and already grabbed the Switch controllers.

But before he began, he offered you some pain killers. “Here, I got these too.”

You hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten them, but you gratefully took them with the tea.

“You'd make an amazing nurse, you know,” you joked as you set the mug back down. You had your arms around his waist, your head against his chest, hugging him tight.

Seonghwa smiled down at you as he draped his arm over you. “What do you mean? Aren't I already your nurse?”

The two of you laughed together, but it was true. He was a nurse. Your personal, adorable, gorgeous, loving nurse.

Seonghwa had started up Animal Crossing, despite him insisting that you two play something together. But you were content to watch him run around with his villagers and do chores. It's a simple game, but a relaxing one.

“What's that one's name again?” You asked, pointing at a blue bunny wearing a letterman jacket off to the side of the screen. She was looking at a snow covered bush, holding a little basket.

“Her?” Seonghwa asked, running up to her. “This is Sasha. Haven't I told you before?”

He probably had, and you just weren't remembering correctly because of your sickness.

“She reminds me of you.”

“Yeah?” Seonghwa asked.

“Yeah. Because you're a tokki.”

He laughed, and you swear, it felt like the aches disappeared for a few seconds.

The game was starting to put you to sleep. You'd wanted to stay awake a little while longer, but before you knew it, your eyes were falling shut again. Seonghwa didn't notice until he heard the soft snores coming from you.

He looked down from the TV and smiled at you. Even when you were sick, with your face bright red from your oncoming fever, you were still his adorable love.

He put the controller down for a second to pet your head, like you were a sleeping kitten.

“Sleep well, nae sarang. I’m here for you.”

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #seonghwa #ateez ff #seonghwa fic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa ff #seonghwa x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fic

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icabrth · 1 year

Text

sleep deprived

pairings: gustavo fring x fem!reader

summary: your boss noticed you’re overworking yourself and decides to do something about it.

a/n: gus got that email rizz

warnings: really messy lol

masterlist

You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t. Gus had you making ninety pounds worth of meth every week, and due to your partners’ sudden disappearance, you were stuck doing all the work by yourself. You sighed, thinking back to how you got into this position.

You were a just a broke college student, trying to pay off your loans when you you met Jesse. You knew each other back in high school, and now he was your dealer. The two of you became buddies and one day you walked in on him and Walt talking about somebody named Gustavo Fring, the owner of a fast food restaurant with an undercover drug business.

You needed money and you convinced them to let join in. Realizing that the “the more the merrier” shit you had pulled really was just that, shit. After they had taught you the recipe, you ended up doing everything, always.

Gus had put to lines under the deadlines, signifying that if you didn’t get this done in time — there’d be consequences. At the same time you had a lot of due college assignments, and skipping all your lectures. So you practically lived in the lab, sleeping and eating there, until you had no time for either of those things.

You were leaning against the counter with a hand on your jaw, steadying your face. Your eyes shut and light snores coming out of your mouth. As Gus inspected your face, he realized you’d never once look so peaceful as you did in that moment.

“I see you’re getting a lot of work done,” he commented, knowing it’d wake you. Gus needed to talk to you about this. He had cameras everywhere and had been paying very close attention to how much time you’d been spending at the lap. You had your laptop and school books there, a few snacks and amount less cups of coffee.

The sudden sound of his voice startled you as you woke up with a final snore. “Shit– I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t even notice I was, uh’falling asleep” your slurred, your words blurring together due to your grogginess. You looked up at him with lazy eyes.

Gus looked at you through his glasses, his expression as emotionless as usual. You thought you saw a glimpse of emotion in his eyes, though it was probably just your sleep deprivation making you see things. Gustavo Fring doesn’t care for anyone. Especially not some random meth cook who can’t even do her job right… right?

“You should get home and get some rest, ___. Your drowsiness is affecting your work performance.” Stated as a fact, though functioning more as an excuse.

“I can’t, sir! I’ve only made like, half of the meth I was supposed to and–“ you rambled on, but he interrupted you almost instantly. “Stop it, ___! You have done your part. Your partners’s neglect of their responsibilities is not your problem,” as he shushed you, his expression remained the same though his voice got notably more aggressive. “I’ll consider getting you new partners, you’ve mastered the arts of cooking now.” In that moment, you couldn’t be bothered by his comment on your friends; all you wanted to do was go back to sleep.

“Are you absolutely sure? I’ll get back to work as soon as I wake up, I promise!” You insisted, and he shook his head. “No, you’ll have the rest of the week off,” he said. “I value your effort but I cannot have your drowsiness affect my product.” Gus explained while putting a gentle yet firm hand on your shoulder. You eyed the hand and as did he, though he didn’t let go before he you reluctantly agreed.

“Alright, I guess,” you sighed. He smiled professionally as he took out his notebook, scribbling something something. “Fantastic! Write down your email and we can discuss your work ethic further.” He demanded suggested, handing you a note and a pen. You smiled as you messily wrote down your email address and gave it back to him.

When you went to sleep that night all you could think about was your interaction earlier, and how this might’ve been his stiff attempt at flirting with you. Although you figured this could’ve easily been your head playing tricks on you agin.

When you woke up the next morning you noticed a gmail notification. Written bellow a [email protected] it read:

Hello, I hope you slept a worthwhile and woke up energetic and better. I suggest we meet up at my restaurant to further discuss our game plan.

Sincerely, Gustavo Fring.

Did Gustavo Fring just ask out out on a date?

#breaking bad #breaking bad x reader #gustavo fring x reader #gus fring x reader #gus x reader #gustavo fring #gus fring #x fem!reader #x reader

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reashot · 1 year

Text

The Rose Princess and The Rusted Knight.

As promised this is the fluff you all wanted:

Old Man Jaune: You finally made it...

Ruby: (Jaune, Is that really you. What happened to you?)

----------------------------------------------------------

Jaune: Hey. There's something I been holding on for you. It was the first thing I saw. Years later when I finally found it. I know you would come back another time...

Ruby: ... I - thank you, Jaune.

Jaune: Don't mention it.

Ruby: Jaune, what did happened to Lewis?

Jaune: ... I think Alyx traded him to the tree in order to leave. And then she wrote him out off the story. Night everyone...

----------------------------------------------------------

Ruby and the rest of her teammates did as they were told it was easy because most were too tired after everything that happened to them. Yang and Blake sleep while sharing sleeping accommodation, Weiss mumbles in her sleep about Jaune but Ruby is too concerned about Jaune to be resting. So she decides to look for him instead.

Ruby: *knock, knock* Jaune are you awake?

Jaune: *opens doors* Ruby what are you doing, up so late? This is the middle of the night.

Ruby: I'm sorry but I have to.... Oh sweet brothers.

She only just realizes that Jaune doesn't have a shirt on when he opens the door.

Jaune: Why are you?... *looks down* Oh crud! *slams the door close*

Ruby: (oh my gods! He looks even hotter without his shirt on?! 🥵)

Jaune: *opens door* Okay Ruby what did you have to say to me again?

Ruby: C-can I come in. I want to talk.

Jaune: Ruby you can't just...

Ruby: Well I'm coming in anyway whether you wanted me to or not.

Jaune: *sigh* fine but it have to be quick.

Ruby: Y-yeah, thank you Jaune.

Jaune: So what did you want to talk about. That it can't wait until morning?

Ruby: Can I stay here with you Jaune?

Jaune: Excuse me?

Ruby: What I mean to say is that can I talk to you about something?

Jaune: Go ahead, but it have to be quick..

Ruby: I can't sleep...

Jaune: So just close your eyes and count to ten, that usually work. Now if you done I would like to go back to sleep...

Ruby: Since when did you become so cold to me?

Jaune: Ruby... You are alone in a room with a man that's older than your father. Why do you think I don't want you here?

Ruby: But you wouldn't do that to me right?

Jaune: I done things I never thought was possible while I'm in here. So for your sake please just leave me alone.

Ruby: No. *hugs Jaune*

Jaune: What are you doing?

Ruby: You're desperately in need of a hug.

Jaune: Okay, now you given me one. So you can go back now.

Ruby: Where is that kind and gentle boy that I used to be friend with?

Jaune: He's dead a long time ago. I'm afraid.

Ruby: Then why are you crying?

Jaune: ... I just have something in my eyes that's all.

Ruby: I see... Then do you want me to stop hugging you then?

Jaune: No! It's fine, you can keep doing this for as long as you want.

Ruby: Then I will keep doing so then. And Jaune afterward can I sleep here with you?

Jaune: Eh?

----------------------------------------------------------

Ruby: Thank you Jaune.

Jaune: Well I'm glad you're enjoying it but you have to wake up early. The last thing I want is to explain to Yang and the rests about why we were sleeping together.

Ruby: I promise. And Jaune I meant it when I said that I want to talk to you about something. It's about.

Jaune: *headpat* We will talk about it later, for now let's rest. Good night.

Ruby: Good night to you to Jaune.

Jaune: And Ruby. Thanks for the hug.

#jaune arc #lancaster #lancaster rwby #ruby rose #rwby #jaune x ruby #ruby x jaune #rwby lancaster #old man jaune #rusted knight

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callsign-phoenix · 6 months

Text

I wrote this as a part of my falltober fics, I hope you like it!

It is a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x gn!reader imagine.

Thank you @famfan-1034 for proofreading!

Day 18: Dancing in the rain

Warnings: none

You really liked Bob, but the date he had asked you on was uncomfortable to say the least.

He had been pining for you for a while and he was so nervous when he finally mustered the courage to ask the question, just like he was now.

Bob was sweet and charming and funny when around his friends, but he was neither on your date at the café.

He had done a great job at choosing the café and he was nothing but a gentleman, but he was incredibly nervous on your first date.

The tips of his ears and his cheeks were tinted in a blushed pink and he didn’t manage to talk much, just a stuttered mumble here and there.

It was sad because you knew Bob for a while now as a part of your friend group, but you had never been together on your own.

The café itself was beautiful, small and dimly lit, with charmingly mismatched cups and saucers, delicious cakes, and comfortable and inviting furniture.

Music was playing softly in the background, it was broadcasted by a small speaker outside the coffee shop as well, so the guests sitting outside could hear it as well.

You were sitting inside, and if you weren’t speaking the music was the only thing you could hear.

Bob was just too nervous to talk and his anxiety built up further, until your drinks were gone, and you didn’t know what else to talk about.

So you decided to leave, asking Bob to join you.

Maybe it was the intimacy of the enclosed room that scared him, so you gave him another chance.

When you stepped outside both of you stopped to take a breath, the cool air refreshing you and waking your spirits.

Bob was just a step behind you but you turned around when he spoke up.

“I think it might begin to-“ he wanted to say ‘rain soon’, but it was as if the floods had opened, and the heavens showed you all they had to offer.

You had never experienced such a sudden downfall of rain and it made you laugh, especially when you saw Bob scrunch his nose in distaste.

He had a crease in between his brows and you were sure it was because he thought he had blown it.

On the contrary you quite loved how worried he was, so your laugh turned into an honest smile.

The rain was still heavy and you were already drenched, so you acted on instinct.

You moved quickly towards Bob, pulling him against you and connecting your lips.

Bob was caught entirely by surprise but he didn’t pull away, instead he tried to press himself even closer when he finally realized what was happening.

You reached down to connect your hands when you pulled away, the awe and utter confusion on Bob’s face was priceless.

You wanted to reach out and smooth the crease between his brows out, instead you just ran your thumb over the back of his hand.

“I like you, Bob,” you said softly, your eyes never leaving his.

“You could never blow this. Relax,” you added softly.

Bob’s shoulders visibly relaxed and the confusion made way for utter awe.

It was then that you started to register the outside world again, feeling the rain fall onto your upturned face and hearing the sound of it as well as the music from the café.

There was a pause in music, and when you finished speaking ‘Singing in the rain’ began to play.

The two of you looked at each other and after a second you both began to laugh.

Bob slowly let go of your hands to hold onto your waist, starting to sway from one side to the other with a playful gleam in his eyes.

You were confused at first but after a second you realized you were dancing in the rain.

A wide smile spread on your lips and you leaned over to kiss his cheek softly.

From then on Bob knew that he didn’t need to be nervous with you, and he was only once, to pop the question.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @klmpun @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @tipsykeen @bespinnn @airedale17 @malindacath @aerangi @luckyladycreator2 @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @luckyladycreator2 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @atarmychick007 @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus @jewels98 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd #robert floyd x y/n #robert floyd x reader #top gun bob #bob top gun #falltober

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whumperofworlds · 4 days

Text

I'll Always Be Here

Now on AO3!

Fandom: Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles (OC centric)

A/N: Not too whumpy, but I feel this still applies on this blog LOL. I mean, nightmares suck right? Better give it to my sweet poor guy! Also, it's Gulru and Rae's debut on this blog!!! I loved these two, and it's been a while since I wrote them so. Yeah!

I only own Rae and Gulru. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

CWS: Nightmares, crying, romantic Caretaker x Whumpee, male whumpee, referenced death, referenced kidnapping, referenced slavery, tied up, food mention

ENJOY!

_____

I'll Always Be Here

He couldn't move.

The Thundara spell had paralyzed Gulru, preventing him from moving his body. The electricity sparked around him, and if he moved a muscle, the spell did its work, shocking him slightly. His breathing grew heavy and quickly, as he tried to breathe to no avail thanks to the panic attack rearing its head.

In front of him was Jack Moschet, grinning wide and with hatred filling his eyes, his arms crossed as he watched Gulru struggle. Behind Jack was Gulru's dear Rae, tied to the large, broken pillar, his hands wrenched behind his back. The Clavat's eyes were wide with fear and guilt, as he watched Gulru struggle to stand.

It hit Gulru then. Gulru tried to rescue Rae from Jack's clutches, but he too was caught. Rae was bait for Gulru, and the Yuke fell for the trap, hook, line, and sinker.

"Stupid bird," Jack mocked. "Don't you realize what you've done?"

Gulru flinched at Jack's voice, wanting to scoot away, but due to the paralysis, he couldn't. He whimpered, wanting to get far away from his former master as soon as possible. He needed to get away. He needed to save Rae.

"P-please…" Gulru stuttered, "Let Rae go! Y-you got me, just let him go, please!"

"And let him come after me once I'm through with you?" Jack laughed. "Ha! You're so stupid as always, boy!"

Tears began to fall down from the eyes of his helm, as Gulru whimpered and sniffled. This couldn't be happening. All he wanted was Rae back. But because of his foolishness, he'd never see Rae again. And it was all his fault.

"For what you've done to me," Jack growled, raising his gigantic hand. His claws shone in the sunlight that peeked over the broken roof of Moschet's Mansion. "I'll kill you right here!"

"NO!" Gulru could hear Rae scream out from behind Jack. Rae strained and struggled against his bonds, as tears fell down his face. He sobbed before he begged, "Don't kill him, please! Gulru! GULRU!"

Gulru shook his head, as more tears continued to flow down his helm. No. No no no. This couldn't be happening. He didn't want to die like this. Not when Rae was in danger. Not when he had just tasted freedom for the first time. Not like this.

Jack's claws flew down, aiming straight for Gulru's neck—

_____

Gulru gasped as he sat up, sweat beading down his helm. If he had eyes, they would be wide as saucers right now. His heart pounded, as he breathed heavily from the nightmare he had.

Wait… nightmare?

Gulru glanced at his surroundings. It was mostly dark, but he could still see where he was. He was in the tent that the caravanners set up for the night, with everyone still asleep in their sleeping bags. Beside him, also sleeping in a sleeping bag, was Rae, alive and safe.

Alive and safe…

Gulru placed a wing to his chest, trying to calm himself down from the nightmare he had. Tomorrow was another day of collecting myrrh—he needed to sleep. But his racing heart wouldn't calm down. He tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself, something that Rae had taught him whenever he got scared or nervous. But his racing heart continued to pound in his chest. He sighed.

He wasn't going to get any sleep at this rate. He needed some fresh air.

He carefully crawled out of his own sleeping bag, not wanting to wake the others. He didn't want to wake them over something so trivial as a nightmare, so it would be best to let them rest. His eyes adjusted to the dark then, as he carefully stepped over his comrades until he reached the entrance of the tent. Quietly unzipping the flap, he left the tent before zipping it back up; he didn't want to let the breeze wake his friends up.

He sighed, before turning to the remains of the campfire. Smoke rose from the gathered burnt wood, with small embers stuck to their tips. He looked ahead to see the carriage, the Paopamous also asleep. The carriage was the same as it was—at least the Striped Bandits hadn't found them here and tried to steal from the carriage.

He sat on one of the logs that were around the small campfire, watching the embers and black smoke slowly rise from the remains. His mind tried to focus, to focus away from the terrible nightmare he had. But every time he tried to think of something else, that nightmare came back. How Jack had attempted to kill him. Right in front of Rae, no less. And Rae… seeing Rae scared broke his heart. He always boasted how he was brave and would never back down. But at that moment, seeing Rae crying and fearful for Gulru's life scared the Yuke more than anything else.

And it was all Gulru's doing. He was caught because he was reckless trying to rescue Rae. And now not only was Gulru traumatized from that ordeal, Rae was as well.

"Because of you."

Jack's words to him before he attempted to kill Gulru echoed in his head.

"Because of you."

It kept repeating in his mind. Gulru held his helm with his wings, trying to shut out his former master's voice.

"Because of you. Because of you. Because of you."

It had been a year since Jack was killed after that incident. Why was his voice still haunting Gulru? Why?

Tears began to form in the eyes of his helm, as he sniffled. His body shook, as the voice continued to blame him for what had happened.

He tried to hold in a sob, but he failed to, as he held his face in his wings. His crying was muffled, careful not to be too loud as he continued to cry. The nightmare repeated itself in his mind, as he cried and cried.

"Gulru?"

Gulru stopped suddenly; he would have widened his eyes in surprise and shock if he had them. With trembling wings, he removed them from his wet helm before turning his head.

Peeking out from behind the flap of the tent was Rae, a small frown on his face. Upon seeing how wet his boyfriend's helm was, his eyes widened. He left the tent fully then, turning for a moment to zip the flap up, before he turned back to Gulru.

"R-Rae?" Gulru questioned, his helm red in embarrassment. Oh Cosmos, did he hear him cry? "D-did I wake you? I'm sorry, I didn't m-mean to—"

"No, it's okay," Rae whispered, "you didn't wake me up, I promise. I noticed you were gone and I had to check up on you." The Clavat studied Gulru's helm, to which Gulru looked away shyly. He didn't want Rae to see that he was crying over a dumb nightmare. "...You're crying."

Gulru shook his head, as if denying that he was crying. "I-I was… it's—"

"Oh Gul," Rae said with a voice full of sympathy and worry. He walked towards the log Gulru was sitting in before joining the Yuke. He took Gulru's wing, gently squeezing it; it was Rae's way of telling Gulru that everything was okay, that he was safe. "What happened? Who made you cry?"

Gulru frantically shook his head at the last question. He knew how protective Rae was to Gulru; he never forgot the one time a Selkie had yelled at Gulru to the point of tears, and Rae threatened the Selkie to apologize to the Yuke. It nearly got the group kicked out of the town due to Rae's actions.

"N-no one did," Gulru finally said after a few seconds. "I…" He paused, unsure if he should say what had happened. Would Rae be annoyed or laugh at him over his problem? It was so trivial—nightmares had happened to Gulru before, and they never bothered him as much as this one.

But feeling Rae's warm hand and his worried expression pushed Gulru to at least tell him. Rae never judged him during the few years they knew each other. He wouldn't judge him over something like this.

"I-I had a nightmare," Gulru sighed, tears beginning to form in his eye holes again.

Rae only nodded, squeezing Gulru's wing. A cue to keep going.

"Jack… he kidnapped you," Gulru continued, his voice slowly cracking, "a-and I tried to save you, but he caught me… and he killed me. You were tied up a-and you couldn't do anything… I was scared, you were scared, and I-I…" He couldn't hold the tears any longer, as he buried his face with his free wing and began to sob.

Rae's frown intensified, scooting closer to Gulru. He released his hold on Gulru's other wing, before wrapping an arm around the trembling Yuke.

"Hey…" Rae soothed, "it's okay. It's just a nightmare. We're both safe."

"B-but," Gulru hiccupped, sniffling as he tried to wipe away the tears. They kept coming, however. "It was all my fault. If I-I had paid more attention, you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped and hurt. None of that would have happened if I wasn't s-so stupid—"

"Gulru," Rae piped up firmly, shocking the Yuke. Gulru turned to see Rae's face, noticing the narrowed eyes. He wanted to scoot away, feeling that he made Rae angry at him, but Rae held firm. "Don't ever call yourself stupid again."

"...What?" Gulru whimpered.

"It hurts me to see you depreciate yourself, Gul," Rae continued, his narrowed eyes changing into concerned ones. "You didn't do anything. Jack is the one at fault in all of that, not you. And even if you are at fault, you fixed it by coming for me. You even killed Jack by yourself." He leaned on Gulru, his head on the Yuke's shoulder. "You saved me, Gulru. And I'm alive. You're alive. We're both safe. You're my hero that day, and even now."

Gulru sniffled, the tears finally stopping. He wiped away a stray tear that fell, before he asked, "Y-you think so?"

"I know so, Gul," Rae confirmed. "You're brave, and strong in your magic… you're definitely a hero to me."

"...Rae," Gulru whispered, reaching out to hold Rae's hand again. The Clavat took it, squeezing his wing. "I-I'm sorry that I made you worry."

"It's okay," Rae whispered back, a small smile on his face. "Just know that I'll always be here. Always."

"And the same goes to you too, dear," Gulru chuckled, scooting closer to his beloved. If he had a mouth, he would be smiling. Smiling that he was lucky to have a boyfriend like Rae.

At the corner of Gulru's eye, he spotted a small bright light shining from across the hill. He gasped, seeing the sun slowly rising from behind the hill. The sun's rays shone, its light brightening up the dirt roads and the trees, giving them more color. It was beautiful; it shone just like the giant crystal that Gulru had seen in Tipa. How long were they sitting here, talking it out? Gulru wasn't sure. But he didn't mind at all.

"Wow," Rae piped up in awe, his eyes sparkling. "It's been a while since I saw the sunrise. This is beautiful!"

"I-it is," Gulru agreed. Despite seeing it many times, Gulru never took the sunrise for granted; after over a decade as Jack's slave, he missed the little things such as this.

The two watched the sunrise together, cuddled up to each other and enjoyed the view. It wasn't until a few hours later did the two heard stirring in the tent nearby.

Rae reluctantly released his hold on Gulru before standing, much to the Yuke's disappointment. But he understood why; it was another day of collecting myrrh.

"I gotta go make some breakfast," Rae said, stretching his arms up with a sigh.

"I-I can help," Gulru offered, also standing. "I got enough ingredients to make some apple fritters."

Rae smiled at his beloved, nodding to accept his offer. "Sounds great! Thanks, Gully."

Gully… another nickname. That's so cute.

The two began their work on breakfast, their bond stronger than ever after that night.

#whump #my whump stories #gulru #rae #kidnapping mention #slavery mention #death mention #food mention #nightmares #crying #comfort #male whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #final fantasy #final fantasy crystal chronicles #yuke #clavat #tied up #jack moschet

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musewritingsforyou · 10 months

Text

A Normal? Day

Summary: A normal day in the life of Beacon Hills Favorite Couple

Warnings: unbearable Fluff, plot points that wont make sense just yet

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I realized I dont have any of my Stiles work updated yet! This is just a short little oneshot to show people what my stiles writing will kind of be like. I wrote it to be included in a season rewrite that I am doing but It didnt fit great so now im just giving it to you for fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*somethings that wont make sense to you will be explained if you go read my series rewrite in the next few weeks!*

A normal day in a supernatural world.

Step one, wake up.

Waking up is a long process for me. My lovely hyperactive boyfriend did what he always does for me each morning, wake up about thirty minutes before me, sit there as still as he can (which is not very still) to let me sleep in, give up after ten minutes and then get out of bed. Stiles woke up at six this morning, playing with my hair as I slept before he finally got out of bed. Like every morning since we started doing this, he placed his pillow and a spare flannel in my arms so I wouldn't ‘get cold and lonely’, and then went to get himself ready for school. This was a relatively short process, throw on some pants, decide between a sweatshirt or a flannel, find the backpack and then he's pretty much done. For me on the other hand, it's a little different.

“y/n/n, I gave you five extra minutes. You gotta get up.” I groaned and moved the pillow that was in my arms to cover my face. To my disappointment Stiles took it off and started peppering me with kisses until I opened my eyes with a scowl on my face.

“I love you but I really hate you.” He gave me a classic Stiles grin as he moved backwards off of the bed.

“I know, you make sure to tell me that every time I wake you up.”

After walking out the door, and then back to it within seconds to make sure I was actually getting up, Stiles went downstairs to make some coffee and left me to get ready. I was running late, per usual, but by the time I made it to the car all of my things were there waiting for me, along with Stiles who held out a travel cup of coffee just the way I like it and forcibly handed me a banana.

“Eat.” I shook my head and motioned for him to drive.

“Too early, If I eat right now I'll actually puke all over your car.” He started the car and drove with one hand as he kept the banana extended.

“Babe, we do this every morning and every morning I remind you that-” I snatched the fruit from his hand as I finished his sentence.

“Breakfast is important and if you don't eat it in three hours you're going to come to me during class with a panicked look on your face telling me you think you're about to pass out. I know, I remember.”

I sound sarcastic like this every morning, but even through the snide remarks and the occasional unnecessary and undeserved insult, Stiles still looks at me like I'm the answer to the universe.

Step two, school. For this one I recommend that you don’t do what I manage to do every year, fill your schedule with all honors and AP classes, zero breaks or study halls, and more than three extra-curriculars.

I won't bore you with the rather slow details of a highschool senior. I will however give you this, classes are hard, I don't think I will ever be able to use a red pen in my entire life, and with each passing day somehow I find a way to be even more stressed than the day before.

The day ended with me sitting on a bench with Lydia and Malia, watching our boys play lacrosse from across the field and inevitably laughing our asses off whenever either of them would look over to make a face at us and get tackled or hit with something from the field. Ah the simple pleasures, you know? As we both waited for Stiles and Scott, Lydia and I spread our various school textbooks out on the bench in front of us, in all about sixteen heavy books set open as we studied. When Coach finally blew his whistle with one ear shattering blow after another the boys ran to us, practically dripping in sweat. Stiles bound up the bleachers, skipping some of the steps and leaned down in front of me, waiting for a kiss. I didn't look up from my textbook, and neither did Lydia as she responded to the boys while hovering over her calculus homework.

“Nice try boys, but before you even think about going anywhere but a dog kennel, you need to take showers.” There were a few mumbled protests but again without looking up she shooed them with her hands.

“Come on, off you go.” I giggled a little as they marched away in defeat, their cleats making a crunching sound when they reached the grass.

Step three, finally to get home, only to have to go to a pack meeting.

Like every other Friday the pack all met in Scotts living room, this time all agreeing to stay away from anything breakable. I promised Melissa I wouldn't let them destroy the house while she was out, and I keep my promises. At the moment there were no big problems. Though I still wince a little when I say it, it seems like everything in Beacon Hills is… normal. As weird as that sounds. But we still meet once a week, every week it becomes more of a group study/hangout than a real meeting, but spending time with our friends was more valuable than any solution we had come up with before. The only issue to discuss at this meeting was me. I wouldn't call it an issue exactly, but after finding out about my… species? People? Clan? I don't know what to call it, but after finding out about what I am, we still have almost no information about what that really means, for me or for them.

“Liam, as much as I appreciate the input, I don’t think being a truth seeker literally means that I can cheat on multiple choice tests. Even if it did, morally I will tell you again, cheating is a bad thing, and also none of my classes use multiple choice.”

They all tried their best to put Stiles and I at ease, telling us that in time we would figure it all out. But that was the thing, we didn't have time. We’re seniors just a few months from leaving this town for college, and once I leave I don't see myself flying across the country once a week just so that I can make sure I know the “truth” of Beacon Hills. The sun finally set and Stiles and I said our goodbyes, walking hand in hand out the jeep before heading to his house for the night.

Step four, stay up until three in the morning looking for answers about what supernatural powers you have. yeah , I know, that one's a kicker.

As soon as Stiles and I stepped foot in the door of his room we threw off our bags and changed into sweatpants. I took the flannel he gave to me this morning and placed it over my tank top as we stood in front of his clear board as if waiting for an idea to come to us by itself. The board was still blank, nothing there but a picture of me and Stiles together at the lookout in the woods. A little reminder that no matter what crazy ideas are thrown onto this board, we always have each other. We settled into our usual spots, Stiles standing and pacing in the middle of the room while I spread books and papers out over his bed, laying on my stomach and staring into the pages.

Finally, Step five, wait for the full frustration to kick in, and then once it's there, find a cute boy to calm you down.

I was laying flat on my stomach with four books in front of me, two from school, two from Lydia on the supernatural. I was hoping that in between my AP calculus homework and my college physics textbook I could figure out something new about my identity. News flash, it wasn't working. I groaned at the words in front of me, frustrated that for some reason the letters were swimming in and out. I took the books (all four of them) and slammed them shut before throwing them aggressively onto the ground in front of Stile’s bed and then taking the papers and just tossing them onto the air without any thought of aim or purpose. Stiles stopped pacing and stood still in front of his board, which now had a few red squiggles here and there along with the photo and a horrible attempt at drawing a wolf. He turned slowly to me with a marker in his hands.

“You good?”

“Not really.” He nodded and walked over, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed and putting the marker down. While I was still lying on my stomach he placed a hand on my back and rubbed it slowly.

“baby, do you know what time it is right now?” I placed my head in my hands and responded.

“No. Do I want to?”

“No, but I'm going to tell you anyway. It's three in the morning.” I said nothing and just signed into my hands. Stiles ignored my angry sighs and continued.

“Babe do you know what that means?” I shook my head.

“Well first of all it means that you are probably exhausted, which is why you're getting so frustrated with yourself, but more importantly it means that we have two hours before that night time diner downtown closes.” I looked up fast.

“Are you talking about the one with the pie, and the fries and the shakes.” He looked at me very seriously and nodded. Without another word I popped up on the bed and threw on a pair of crocs.

“Stiles, no matter what I say in the mornings when you wake me up, I love you so much I think you might even be higher on my list than eating pie at three in the morning.” He gave me a broad smile and kissed me on the cheek.

“Say no more, love.”

#teen wolf #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles #stiles stilinski #oneshot #dylan o'brien #reader insert

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aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide · 1 year

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Now that Kelli has been gone for a bit, I feel like I can get this off my chest: Wolf Productions done fucked up.

Not for the first time, and not right from square one. But gosh, what a waste.

Kelli Giddish's Rollins was the only female character with the depth and acting chops behind her on the show since Cabot was a regular. She showed up and was able to go toe to toe with Mariska in carrying episodes - both personally related to her character, or to cases - not to mention had electric chemistry with Benson (sexual or not, take your pick).

With all the flack that SVU had taken over the years for not having a more diverse cast in regards to sexuality, Amanda was the earliest and best opportunity they had to develop a complex, interesting storyline of an adult woman coming to her sexuality late in life. I am not even necessarily the most ravenous Rolivia Shipper out there, but I'm heartbroken that they took Amanda's character over the years into the most boring, obvious, dissatisfying of directions.

I adored Amanda's wild/problematic side. Her episodes with her fighting with Amaro, dealing with her gambling addiction, shooting her sister's ex, or going rogue undercover are my favorite episodes of basically the last 10 yrs of the show. It was so good to finally have someone in the squad who was easier to relate to in a real-world sense. Someone who went to a Big Girl job in the day, but in the off hours was a mess with a rebellious streak.

It was always my hope that they would turn around the storylines where she seemed to chase men that were purposely bad for her, into a realization that it was because she was more emotionally into women. It fits so perfectly with her childhood, her background, and had ready-made holes in existing canon where they could have written it in with ease. (Pretending to be Liv's gf at the sperm bank, the remarks she makes in the episode Plastic, questioning her second pregnancy, etc.)

Instead, they had Carisi mope after her for years, all through the seasons where she showed no interest in him. I lost 50% of my respect for Carisi when he had that sulking tantrum after she fucked the bartender in Intent (a sexist double-standard btw, which would have never flown with fans if it had been Rollins pouting bc Carisi turned her down), and the other 50% after Carisi became ADA, with the writers seeming to then write him as rather victim-blaming.

The biggest irony, in my opinion, is that Dick Wolf complains that giving the fans EO will make the show too 'soap opera-y,' when what he/they did with Rollisi and Kelli's exit was far and away the most soap opera-esque thing they ever wrote! Fuck off with that obvious shit! Oh, the once-troubled blonde who is now straight as an arrow, rides off into the sunset with the Catholic altar boy and trades her powerful feminist position for a 9-5 (don't come for me, there's nothing wrong w being a professor, that's not the point here) and her two kids. Eat all of my ass, Mr. Cis-het, White, Only-Primetime-Billionaire Wolf. 🙄***

To make matters worse, they specifically brought in a POC actress to play a bisexual character, only to write her out as fast as possible for absolutely no discernable reason!?! The utter waste of what they did with Kat Tamin is an equal travesty. Give me Kat waking up in Amanda's bed. Give me Amanda making pancakes for breakfast and Kat carrying the kids to the table. Give me anything but the bullshit, Caucasian tripe that they sold us with Rollisi!!!

*takes deep breath*

And if - IF - the powers that be couldn't think beyond the end of an average-length cock when it came to Rollins, then for the love of all that is holy: her chemistry with Sergeant Khaldun was 1) vastly more believable 2) hotter 3) more diverse as an overall cast option and 4) less cringeworthily obvious.

I have loved SVU since I was 16 yrs old, and even though I gave up watching it around The People v. Richard Wheatley (for reasons unrelated to this specific rant), I still lurk in the background and keep myself vaguely caught up. But it's getting impossible to defend a lot of the choices they have made in the last three or four years. Good talent is so hard to hang onto these days in H'wood, and Dick Wolf seems just as, if not more, determined to fuck up his show as Chris Carter was in the 90s with TXF.

Thanks for coming to my TED Rant. 😮‍💨✌🏻

- HeartEyes4Mariska

***Not to mention the Barisi Shippers got robbed in the process.

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stupidthoughtsinwriting · 2 years

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Spiraling (Sherlock Holmes)

Hi, this is just a thought I've concocted. I honestly dont know what it is. I dont know if anybody will enjoy it, i hope they do but i already expect disappointment. Pardon my writing as i am still new to this. there was still a bit left after this but i didnt know how to run through it so just posted this but maybe ill finish that one once ive thought it through

Summary: After an accident during a case, a hostage situation leaves you in a coma for a week. During that week in the hospital, things are going horribly in Baker Street

‘Ohh Sherlock darling that’s beautiful, though I haven’t heard it before. Dare I ask who wrote that’ I asked Sherlock as he played the unfamiliar song. It was odd that I was unfamiliar with the beautiful tune as Sherlock has played plenty and more melodies than I can count, all of which I was familiar with, however that was new. I knew that he likes to compose as it helps him think but this was different, so I assumed was he’s playing another great’s piece. His melodies were always a bit solemn, deep and intense but this was lively, light and dare I say romantic.

‘Me’ he said flatly as he continued to play. Shocked as I was, I remained quiet as he carried on fiddling with his violin. Apparently, the shock was evident in my face as a smirked crossed his. I shrugged it off and listened until he finished the number. He was focused on the violin when he started to play but now his gaze was held on me. I gave him a soft smile which caused his features to soften into a smile of its own.

After a little while he finished and set the instrument on his chair, eyes still fixed on me. The grin I’ve plastered on grew wider as he walks over to me, hand in offering. I accepted and rose from my seat as he led the way to an open area. He moved to face me, a hand that belonged to him crept up to my waist and the hand he held in his was raised. Confused of his actions, I went along with it and raised my free arm to his shoulder, having an inkling where this was going. Guessing correctly, we moved around the living area, dancing as much we could in the small, confined space. Having known the dance as the same one done at John’s wedding; I was pleased to not have forgotten the steps.

As we continued waltzing, I asked ‘what has you all cheery?’

‘What has you so inquisitive’ he countered

‘Fair enough, though what had transpired to get you to write such a beautiful melody’

‘Nothing just got bored, so I composed. I was just very fortunate enough to have a great model and inspiration.’ He smiled as I beamed at the realization of what he meant. I was sat all day reading -a rather fascinating book might I add- on John’s chair as the boys finished up on a case. He’d come in around just after noon, bored of having been done with the previous case and not being on one currently. I greeted him when he walked in and went to the kitchen to fix up some tea. When I returned, giving one of the two mugs to him -a kiss on the head as a thank you-, I returned to finishing my book.

We continued dancing around the flat for a little while, nothing but the silent music and the rustling of our feet was heard. I laid my head on his shoulder at some point, happy and content of where I was and what I was doing. His voice broke the silence as we went for one last round.

‘Darling, can you do me a favour?’ he asked, voice a bit changed from the one he used earlier but I thought nothing of it.

‘Sure love, what is it?’

‘Wake up. Don’t leave me. Please come back to me’ His voice was now pleading and serious.

I raised my head as I said ‘What are you talking about, I’m right…’ I paused as his body and hold were loosening and disappearing ‘…here’ I continued with my sentence as I raised my hands to hold Sherlocks face. Everything had started to disappear in black. The flat and slowly his body.

‘Please come back, I can’t lose you, I need you please’ were his final words as he disappeared, slipping through my fingers, into the darkness. Nothing but a spotlight overhead of me. I put down my hands from where they were clutching on to his face, looking around into nothing but darkness.

…

‘Ey, how’s she doing?’ Greg asked John as he walked into the hospital room. It was quiet, nothing but the steady beeping of the heart monitor, breathing of the people in the room and the rain pattering on the window. John was sat at the chair at the end of the bed where you laid, nearly dozing off but was aroused by Lestrade breaking the silence of the room. Mycroft, unnoticed yet by the DI was stood at the dark corner beside the door. He was staring at your unmoving body, wondering how such a fierce, smart, brave and strong woman could ever lay looking so fragile.

‘Same as yesterday’ John replied with a yawn. The lot of them have been juggling staying here with you, looking after Sherlock and taking care of Rosie. John and Molly’s focus were taking care of Rosie, while Mrs. Hudson looked after Sherlock somewhat. She’d inform their little group of what’s been happening with him, keeping tabs of his activities and mayhem in the flat but the woman could only do so much. Greg checked up on him from time to time, more often than John and Molly but it was no use. What greeted them was a mess that was once the great Detective Sherlock Holmes. No one could get through to him but you. Even Mycroft tried, but he knew that what his brother needed, and the lack of it resulted into relapsing back to old habits.

John went straight here after Molly came to take care of Rosie. He was absolutely knackered. Rosie couldn’t sleep through the night which kept him up as well. He’s been living off of pots of coffee the past week with barely enough sleep. He’d nod off at times when it was his watch and the others would let him.

Mycroft came to check on you from time to time and occasionally kept watch of you as well. He knew that when you woke up and found him fully rested, not having bothered with helping the others, you’d have his head.

Now it seems the boys are all here at once. Greg came to relieve John of his duties to get some rest and inform him of the situation with the younger of the Holmes brothers, still unaware that the older was in the room.

‘Just got a message from Mrs. Hudson about our boy, it isn’t good.’ Greg announces, drawing Mycroft to rub his temples and John to release a sigh. Ever since the accident, Sherlock has only visited you once. The lot of em guessed he couldn’t bear to see you that way so for the past week, he’s been holed up in Baker Street.

‘Christ, what the bloody hell has he done now’ John said exasperated. He was exhausted. Before Greg could respond, another did.

‘You wouldn’t want to know’ Mycroft breathed out. Lestrade’s head snaped to the corner of the room, where the voice originated. Mycroft walked to the centre of the room, down the foot of your bed. Greg’s eyes followed, still startled by the unseen fellow.

‘What are you doing here’ he asked Holmes.

‘I could ask you the same thing’ the eldest Holmes retorted.

‘It’s my shift with y/n’

‘Well there’s no need, you lot look like rubbish’

‘Gee Myc, thanks’ John interrupted.

‘As I was saying,’ he continued, glaring at Watson ‘You lot should get some rest. If y/n finds you’ve been staying here with her, tired and looking like rubbish, she’d have my head.’

‘She’d already be livid by us just not leaving her alone’ John chuckled

‘Ohh wait till she sees Sherlock, she’d be in flames carving us up’ Lestrade groaned with a snicker, rubbing his head at the thought.

‘She already is’ said an unknown voice. A voice they were familiar with but haven’t heard in a while.

All three heads snapped towards the bed. There they found a woman shifting in the bed, trying to sit up, groaning as a pang of pain shot up her shoulder and stomach. Her eye’s fluttering, adjusting to the light and scene in front of her. John quickly stood up from where he was sat as all three men went to check on y/n.

‘Call the nurses and her doctor’ John ordered to anyone in the room, mainly the two lads he was in conversation with and Lestrade followed, rushing from the room to get your attendants.

‘Hey there, sleeping beauty, stop moving around, your going to pop your stitches. Do you remem…’ John fretted as he started examining you, but got cut off.

‘Oh shut it John, I’m fine. Yes I remember what happened. I got shot. Last thing I remember was staring at a barrel of a gun. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m presuming I’m in the hospital. I’m also presuming Elizabeth is still the queen of England now leave me alone.’ She growled and the former army doctor backed away as her doctor came in with a few others, some nurses followed by Lestrade.

‘Ahh, it seems our VIP has awoken’ the doctor said.

‘VIP!’ She took another once over the room, seeing it is rather posh than a normal one, but her focus was on the three blokes taking a laugh at what her reaction was to be when she woke, before she shot her gaze to Mycroft who is to the right of her bed ‘Mycroft Holmes you moved me to a VIP room!’ she fumed as the government official backed away.

‘Okay Ms. Y/L/N please calm down. If you don’t mind, I will perform an examination to check your abilities.’ The doctor mused as he slowly and carefully approached the bed. He asked for permission to lift up your gown to examine the wound on your stomach. You waved him off and he began asking questions.

‘Ughh, John repeat’ you grumbled, already having answered the question before John could even ask.

‘She’s fine, she answered the questions before I could even ask.’ John explained to the doctor who nodded. He asked to uncover your shoulder, as he covered your stomach, to examine the wound on your there. Complying, he examined your arm. After the examination of the wounds, he checked your mobility and reflexes, lifting up your arms and etcetera. Finished with the inspection, he explained what happened to you medically. Apparently, the shot had you fall backward, in which you hit you head very hard -that explained the headaches-. You got shot at four times, three bullet hit you. One just a graze, one a flesh wound on the shoulder and the last on the edge of your stomach. It hit no vital organs but did graze the stomach. They took you to surgery and came out with minimal complications. They left you in a medically induced coma for a day to get the swelling on your head down. You haven’t woken up till now. You nodded every so often until he left, leaving you in the room with the boys and a nurse checking up on your vitals.

Running your uninjured hand to your hair, which was full of knots and a tangled mess, you sighed. You had pads stuck on your shoulder, stomach and arm, covering the holes and grazes on each area. The doctor said it was a miracle that you haven’t sustained much damage. He said miracle, you thought those were the odds of your predicament. ‘It could have been worse’ he said, that you believed. ‘You were lucky’ he added, you didn’t believe in luck.

‘Did anybody else get hurt?’ You asked, eyes closed, leaning back on the bed.

‘No, everyone’s fine, the hostages weren’t harmed, just… you’ John hesitated as he knew the lot of them were threading on thin waters.

‘How bad is it’ You asked, looking at Greg. He knew what you were talking about, he’d be stupider than you thought if he didn’t. He realized you must have heard his news about your lover. He doesn’t respond immediately, hesitating. Just from that you knew it was bad.

‘Bad’ he replied anxiously

‘Be more specific’ you sneered, ticked off from the lack of detail

‘He’s using’ John said plainly. ‘He is, isn’t he?’

‘Yes’ both Mycroft and Greg replied.

‘Fuck’ you breathed out, unintentionally ran you hand through your hair again, pissed to be greeted with a tangled mess. You look at John. He looked tired, bags and dark circles under his eyes, he looks like rubbish.

‘How long was I out again’ you asked, having ignored the doctor most of the time during his explanation, you let that little information slip.

‘A week’ John answered. You nodded as a thought crossed you.

‘Where’s, who’s with Rosie?’ you asked, concern over who’s with your god daughter. John smiled at your concern over his offspring.

‘She’s fine, she’s with Molly.’ he explained. You let out a breath, wincing a bit at the movement. You were given a PCA pump to help you control your pain, you pressed the button to add a dosage, not to much to get you fucked high but enough so the pain was manageable.

‘Speaking of, I should inform her and Mrs. Hudson that you’re awake.’ he said pulling out his phone.

‘Wait. Where are my things’ you asked so to get your own phone. The nurse’s head picked up and she gave you a plastic bag full of your belongings. You greeted her thanks as she continued on scribbling on her clip board.

‘John, could you get me anything to eat, I’m starving’ you asked your friend. He gave you a soft smile and nodded, glad that you had an appetite, he headed out to the canteen. Your gaze moved on to Mycroft who was sat on a chair near the window.

‘You, get me a less fancy room please. I do not want to be treated as if I’m royalty.’ he opened his mouth to object, but you cut him off. ‘Please’ you begged, which caused his resolve to break and agree. Not many could order around the Holmes boys, you were just one of the few that could. He left the room with his cane in tow, shutting the door. The nurse was about to leave as well but you called her over before she could.

‘Hi, could you please get me an AMA to sign and please be discreet.’ you told her gently but the intent an order. She looked at you for a second before nodding quickly and rushing out to get the document. You knew very well you could just leave without signing a damn thing but you didn’t want to cause a problem with the hospital, so this is just a courtesy.

‘What the are you doing’ Lestrade asked you as you ripped open the bag full of your stuff.

‘Did you guys get me anything to change?’ you said as you riffled through the bag looking for your phone.

‘Yah um sure.’ He went over to the closet and took a bag from a shelve. ‘Molly went to your flat while you were in surgery.’ He explained putting the bag on the bed. Having found your phone, you opened the bag he had given you and took out a change of clothes. You grabbed a clean pair of knickers, your denim jeans, a white shirt and a blue cardigan from the bag as you told Greg to close the curtains and look away. He followed as you gently put on your underwear and jeans. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the button of the PCA pump to administer a bit more, scratch that, a lot more of morphine a few more times before pulling the needle out. You grimaced and threw the needle away. The nurse happens to have chosen that moment to come in and see what you were doing. She came to help you and pulled a plaster from one of the many drawers of medical equipment next to the machines. Greg who was still looking at the window asked what was happening.

‘Nothing just… did Molly happen to bring me any shoes’

‘Uhh yeah, bottom of the bag’ he replied.

‘Okay’ you say as the nurse helps you with your bra and shirt. You carefully put your arm through the hole of the shirt and rummaged through the bag of your items for a hair tie, your hair was killing you. Having found one, you attempted to tie your hair but a pang of pain shot your shoulder and stomach, mild but it was still there. The nurse having noticed this took the hair tie from you and tied your hair up in a bun. You were so very grateful for her at that moment.

‘Greg you can turn around now.’ Following your orders, he turned to see you fully clothed, a nurse tying up your hair.

‘What the bloody hell are you doing’ he exclaimed as he walked over to face you.

‘You are taking me to Baker Street.’ You say flatly as you reached for the clip board of forms.

‘I am not’ He handed it to you, and you asked for a pen.

‘You are’ you said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

With a sigh, he found one in his coat and handed it to you. You quickly scribbled and signed the discharge papers before handing them to the nurse, who was removing the rest of the wires attached to you.

‘Can you find me a wheelchair’ you asked Lestrade who fully knew it was an order and not a request. Grumbling he followed and left the room leaving you with the nurse. You pulled the shoes from the bag, threw the plastic bag of bloody garments in and zipped it shut. Slipping on the trainers carefully, you stood up fully from the bed and walked around with the help of the nurse, to wake up your legs from its week rest. Your clothes hung loose and big as you’ve lost a bit of weight during your hibernation. As you walk around the room, your leg starts to get a bit more feeling. The morphine was relieving most of your pain but that didn’t mean there still wasn’t some left.

Lestrade came in with a wheelchair as you’ve just slipped on the cardigan. You took a seat from the chair and asked for you bag to be placed on your lap. You thank the nurse, asking for her name as you were going to send her a gift basket or something as a thank you for getting you out of the hospital. She bided you with instructions and precautions with wounds, which you told her to tell John when he got back from the cafeteria. A thought occurred and you also asked her for a favour of giving John a few of the pain meds -morphine really- when he returned and maybe a suture kit, she nodded questionably. You thanked her one more time before asking Lestrade to wheel you to his car and head to Baker Street. You made a mental note of giving that nurse a very good thank you basket for all the things she’s done for you.

…

As Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand, she heard the ramblings of her tenant. From what she can tell, he was reciting Shakespeare. As she slowly opened the kitchen door -finding it much safer than the main one directly opening to the flat-, she’d find her kitchen a mess. Her table filled with beakers, a microscope, tubes and whatnot with a bunch of other experiments in different bins. Her counters and cabinets filled with the same thing, with an added touch of pinned and hanging files and photographs. The floors ridded with stacked piles of papers and boxes. She just managed to squeeze in her tray of tea and biscuits on the table, before being startled by a gunshot. She jumped and headed to the living room where the shots originated, checking on the lad she treated like a son. As she finally managed to weave her way to the living space, she was greeted by another shot, one her wall had to suffer.

She found Sherlock shouting and waving a revolver, as he rounded the flat like a mad man.

‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger; ' he recited loudly, pacing around the flat, pointing the gun at pictures that hang on strings and objects he found no longer useful, before shooting a picture pinned on the wall.

Startled from the shots fired and getting quite scared of Sherlocks erratic behaviour -though she’s somewhat used to this-, she rushes out the flat and down the stairs. She was going to ring up John or Lestrade to inform them of the increase in violence in the detective’s behaviour. More shots followed at her decent down the stairs when the front door slammed open revealing a y/h/c head of hair she knew belonged to the only person who could help the bloke who live in the flat she just rushed out on.

…

As the car got closer to 221 Baker Street, a clear sound of a bullet wrang through the block. A sound I know a bit too well from a recent experience. I flew out of the vehicle before Greg could even stop the car, pain searing through my body at the force of my movements. A faint ‘Eyy’ was heard coming from Greg but again faint as I was rushing to the front door.

‘STAY THERE’ I shouted back. The slanted knocker flew at the force of the door being slammed open. That was going to leave a dent on the partition, but I didn’t care.

‘Y/N!’ Mrs. Hudson was descending the stairs but was frozen in place at my arrival. I quickly sped up the stairs, past the landlady as pain wrecked through my body. ‘NOBODY COME UP HERE’ I shouted again, my throat getting sore even from the minimal exchange of words. I slow my steps as I get to the closed door of the flat, a booming voice heard from this side of the door. I slowly and very carefully open the door, not wanting to startle and get sent to the hospital with another bullet wound.

‘On, on, you noblest English. Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, have in these parts from morn till even fought and sheathed their swords for lack of argument’

‘Sherlock’ I said softly, announcing my arrival in between his rant. As I entered, I find chaos with the man I found to love in the centre of it all. What once was a somewhat organized flat, morphed as if a tornado passed through. Papers and pictures cloud and scattered on any available space. Strings hang at odd places. Bullet holes and pictures fill the walls, shattered pieces of glass crowd the floor along with knocked over furniture. It’s a mess.

You look up at Sherlock after scanning the room. Focusing on the detective, you take in his ragged and worn appearance. His curly head of hair, a greasy mess, sticking out at odd places. A heavy stubble has grown from the lack of shaving the past week. His features, primarily his jaw and cheekbones sharp from the scarce to none amount of food consumed. His skin, sickly pale as mine from when I woke up just less than an hour ago. His clothes hung loose on his body, the navy robe wrapped around him, fluttering as it followed his movement. He looks worse than me at the moment.

‘Dishonour not your mothers; now attest That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser blood, and teach them how to war.’

He’s ranting, no reciting Henry the Fifth at the top of his lungs, waving the revolver around as he paced the flat, pulling at the papers stuck on the mirror, kicking anything his foot touched. Still in the midst of this chaos, what stood out to me were his eyes. Rounded by dark circles, sunken deep. However, behind those blue changing orbs, were emotions. I was always rather good at reading him, but his eyes always gave me the confirmation of my suspicions. Now what hid behind those beautiful cerulean blue orbs was guilt, worry and anger. I know that Sherlock cares for me and he has told me himself that he loves me, but I never knew that my absence would ever have this affect on him. Come to think of it, we’ve gone through far worse incidents but on the other hand he was always the one on that deep end. I never thought and always assumed that nobody cared enough for me to care if I was ever injured or dead. How wrong am I.

With a sigh, I whispered ‘Oh Sherlock what have you done’. I gulped before finding my voice to speak out again. I don’t think he knows of my presence yet as he’s still quite dramatically delivering the scene.

‘And you, good yeoman, whose limbs were made in England, show us here the mettle of your pasture.’

‘Sherlock’ I spoke up, receiving no response nor acknowledgement in return.

‘Let us swear That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, that hath not noble lustre in your eyes’

‘Sherlock’ I say louder, hoping to break through his train of thought.

‘I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’ He finished loudly before sending steady shots at a picture pinned to the wall behind the couch, causing me to duck with a whimper, my hand flying to my stomach. I definitely popped a few stiches.

‘SHERLOCK’ I screamed, only to have the colt pointed at me again. Having a bit of a deja vu as the last thing I remember before waking up this noon was staring a barrel of a gun. Quite used to this from my previous job and years running around with the boys, I’m fairly tired of it. I raise my hands as a faint of innocence, hoping once again to save another trip to the hospital.

‘Sherlock’ I repeated softly, wincing as I slowly stand. A wave of recognization flashes through him and he wavers slightly. Taking the opportunity, quickly taking a step closer -ignoring the throbbing pain coursing through me-, I smack the hand that wields the gun upwards, causing his grip to falter and ultimately letting go of the gun. I quickly snatch the revolver mid-air with my other hand, a tight grip on the handle, holding it far away from him, taking a few steps back.

A bit fazed from recent actions, Sherlock remains frozen, possibly shocked from my presence. I on the other hand go to remove the bullets from the cylinder but find it empty, before place the firearm on the coffee table that was pushed to the side. I wince again when I stand up straight after bending to place the gun carefully on the table. I turn back to him, his stare boring a hole through me. I say his name in a soft tone once more as I slowly walk back over to him. A foot remains, the distance being the only barrier keeping us apart.

I see him looking over every inch of me, deliberating if I was a hallucination from his drugged high or really standing in front of him. He’s deducing every little detail on me after being deprived of my appearance the week. Greg told me while we were in the car that he’s only come to see me once during my stay at the hospital.

I say his name again and close the distance, sparing him the torture I’m sure he’s come up with trying to push through the intoxication. I place my palm on his cheek, caressing the sharp jawline as is eyes flutter to a close. He melts under my fingertips and leans into the hand. A bit of my heart chips and withers away, the sight of him, he looks tired, exhausted.

‘Ohh darling what happened to you’ I whisper.

My other arm goes to rub his back but instead decides to scream in pain. Sherlock feeling the wince, opens his eyes and draws back, terrified at the thought of him hurting me. With a deep breath, I try close the distance again, yet he moves away.

‘I’m fine.’ I gave him my best smile and fill the space keeping us apart. My good arm wraps around him. He hesitates but wraps his arms around me before breaking down. No one has anyone seen Sherlock Holmes break down. No one even knows if he’s ever had a break down, possibly besides his family. Mycroft told me of his emotional youth. Yes, he was traumatized after Redbeard but as far as I was told he never broke down. Not like this.

His head drops and hides at the crook of my neck, hugging me in a tight embrace, not enough to hurt much but there were still bits of it, the morphine dosage I took evidently wasn’t enough or the hospital have bloody horrible pain meds, I choose to believe in the latter. I resulted to bending my other arm caress his back, moving the good one to his hair as I kissed his head. He then sobbed, soaking up the fabric of my garments before collapsing. I eased him down the messy floor carefully -a bit more for my sake than his-, letting out a shush as he sobbed. I grimaced a bit a few times, letting out a small hiss that was thankfully barely audible due to his snivelling. Sitting at the back of my legs, I held the man I would, without second thought give my life for if it came to it. The man that has managed to capture my heart without realizing it. The man many have called heartless but had the biggest of them all.

‘it’s okay darling, let it out’ I whispered to his ear.

I held him for a long while. Rubbing his back, caressing his hair, ignoring the pain of my wounds, consoling and murmuring words of comfort into his ear. At some point the tears stopped, left with sniffles before ending up with his slow and steady breathing down my neck. He fell asleep. I smile, he was finally getting some rest and I was happy with that. Considering the state he was in I doubt at the possibility of him getting any sleep. I kissed the side of his face that was still tucked on my shoulder. He nuzzled himself closer and his never faltering grip on my ribs tightened a bit.

With my good hand, I reached to my back pocket, grabbing my phone to send a text to the boys. At some point during the wall getting packed with bullets and me consoling Sherlock, I heard the taxi pull up at front, the sound of the front door opening and the unmistakable voice that belonged to John. He had attempted to go up, but Mrs. Hudson stopped him, the same thing she did to Lestrade and the same thing she did to Mike after John had asked.

I sent a text to John You can come up now. A minute later, the stairs rumbled at the footfalls of the men rushing to flat. I looked at the open door and saw all three – or two as Mike is taking his time waiting for the two to pass- dashing to check up on us. I sent a glare at them for their loud behaviour as they stepped to 221b. I shushed them and they apologized quietly.

‘Help me get him to bed please.’ I said in a nicer tone as I’ve realized I haven’t exactly been the kindest, ordering them around. Of course that’s what I was still doing but it was better to ask or demand in a kinder tone. Greg came up to us and I kissed Sherlocks temples one more time before slowly releasing his grip on me. He stirred but I managed to lull him back to his slumber. With the help of John, they carried the detective to his room and carefully -instructed by me after sending a glare- laid him on the bed. I haven’t bothered to stand up yet so when Mycroft came up to me and offered his hand, I accepted, wincing and grimacing when ache and agony shot at different part of my body. He helped me stand up steady after wobbling my steps, the numbing of sitting on the back my legs and not being fully recovered from its week rest nearly sends me tumbling on shards of glass.

‘I should be very mad at you’ he said.

‘And I cared if you were mad because…’ you retorted with a smirk. You looked past the kitchen to the bedroom just as the Lestrade popped his head out and walked back to the living room.

‘Fuck, my bag’s still in your car now isn’t it’. I sighed, exhausted from the days crusade. Before I could even attempt to move toward the door or ask someone to get it, Lestrade is already out the door. A smile creeps up my lips and I move to the kitchen, followed closely behind by Mycroft. I find a tray of tea and biscuits -no doubt left by Mrs. Hudson-. The teas gone a bit cold, but I didn’t care and take a sip of it. I’m parched and starving so I take one of the biscuits and stuff my mouth. I turn around to see Mycroft give me a disapproving look before the kitchen door opens and the landlady comes in.

‘Hello dear, its good to see you’ she greets to me with a half hug.

‘Nice to see you too Mrs. Hudson.’ I smiled pulling apart.

‘John had this with him when he came in but left it down at my flat when he got your text.’ She waved around Johns medical bag. Speaking of, he walks into the kitchen where the party seems to be as I stuff my face in biscuits and cold tea. Mrs. Hudson noticing this, scolds me and says she’ll make a new batch for the whole lot of us. Me and John say ‘thank you’ in unison and she leaves the flat.

‘What are we doing here?’ John looks at Mike who ignores him then turn to me.

‘I was going to the bedroom, but I saw these’ waving to the tray ‘and I’m starving’ reply taking a sip of the tea.

‘Yeah, speaking of, the food is still in the bag’ he nods to his bag which I’m guessing has hospital food in it.

‘Hospital food? Bleck no thanks, I’m fine with these’ gesturing to the tray again as I go take another sip of the tea to clear my throat.

‘For goodness sake enough of that’ John frustratingly releases the cup of my grip and I glare at him. He weirdly doesn’t like me drinking cold tea.

‘Eyy I wasn’t done with that’ I pout but he ignores me. He give me a once over and gesture to my stomach.

‘Your bleeding’ he say and I look down to see a red spot on my shirt.

‘Oh really, I didn’t notice’ I counter sarcastically as he picks up his bag and looks for his equipment.

‘Do it in the bedroom just’ I sigh, I’m really exhausted. I turn to Mycroft who is looking around at files attached to the strings. ‘Mike thank you for your help, please stay until Mrs. Hudson comes back with the tea then you want you can go’ I announce but get interrupted by Greg, who’s in the living room ‘In here’ I say and open my mouth to continue but get interrupted again. ‘Ey, isn’t that the shooter at the school’ He asks, pointing his thumb at the living room. Confused and intrigued, I limp on back to the living room followed by my posse, to see his pointing at the bullet ridded wall, a picture of the shooter indeed there but with a bullet hole or holes on the face. That’s what Sherlocks been shooting at. Christ.

‘Yeah, that’s him’ I sigh and continue on what I was previously saying. ‘Greg you can leave the bag anywhere, I’ll fix it later. Stay until after Mrs. Hudson’s tea then leave. Thank you for your help really.’ I smile and finally head to the bedroom, John at the heels.

As I enter the room, I find Sherlock sound asleep in the bed, on his back. The boys haven’t bothered with the sheets, so I cover him up with a blanket. I sit down carefully on the bed with the help of John, wincing every once and a while because of the pain. I lift my feet up to the bed gently, trying not to disturb my stomach anymore as he pulls out a suture kit and painkillers. I then turn to Sherlock, fix his head on pillow and stroke his head of curls, a bit greasy. I take a deep, knowing what I have to do, that I must check but its daunting. I exhale and get on with it, grabbing his arm and pulling up his sleeves. Fuck. His arm is riddled with needle scars. Too much to even count. Fuck. I look over at John who’s also staring. He’s getting angry just looking at it, so with a sigh, I cover up his arm again and gently place it back on his side. Looking back at John, he’s still staring at the arm.

‘Hey’ snapping him out of his thoughts. He looks me in the eyes, livid at how his friend is treating himself. I lift up my shirt and he diverts his gaze to my side, peeling off the pads and checking on the wound. He’s awfully silent as he puts on a pair of gloves and opens the suture kit. He remembers the painkillers though, so he covers the wound back up temporarily and gets a syringe he’s laid out and sticks it to the bottle.

‘They had horrible pain killers’ I try fill the quiet room with humour, but the hospital did have horrible meds. His features soften when he looks at me, tapping the syringe as I remove the sleeve of the cardigan. He finds a vain before sticking the needle in to give me some relief.

‘Those are good. They the one the nurse gave you?’ I ask. He nods as he goes back to the hole on my stomach. He stitches me up after sticking another needle around the area to numb it -a whole lot better than before because I can’t even feel the wound-. He’s pulling rather aggressively on the needle and while I can’t feel it, I don’t appreciate his way of releasing his anger on my skin.

‘John, If you are to keep doing that, I’m kicking you out.’ He glances back up at me and he mutters an apology before continuing his work, gently this time.

‘I’ll make him pee in a jar, just let him sleep.’ I say glancing back at Sherlock. He just looks exhausted, I’m exhausted but I want nothing more than to hold him in my arms and run my fingers through his curls but if I do that now he’ll wrap himself around me and I don’t think John would appreciate getting interrupted from his work.

‘This is worse than Mary’ I merely murmured, barely audible but it seems John heard. I run a hand up my face, leaning back, letting out a breath as John looks from me to Sherlock.

‘It could have been much more worse if you didn’t wake up’ he looks back down to finish the sutures as I look at him. He’s right of course, he always is with these things.

‘That’s it? I expected a lecture, or you be mad about me leaving the hospital.’

‘Oh, I am mad, just there’s no point of it is there when you don’t give a damn and will do what ever the hell you want anyway’ he ties of the last stitch and grabs some gauze to cover. My lips curl up into a grin knowing he is once again right about that. I hold the gauze as he tapes it up before putting another bandage just in case. He finishes and starts to clean up his things.

‘Thank you, John. I’m really really grateful for all that you’ve done. All the things everybody’s done.’ I beam.

‘That’s it? I expected a lecture or you livid’ he humours, repeating what I said just moments before with his own twist.

‘Oh, I am. But I get it, I would have done the same with you lot, but It’s done and just thank you.’ I admit, though I still want to be cross, I get it. They care.

‘He needs you; you know. More than you know. He lost it after you didn’t wake up when they took you off the meds for the coma. You’ve somewhat replaced his high from the drugs with your own and the probable thought and loss of it just scared him, so he resorted back to the old habit.’ He explained. I take in his deduction of his best mate with the only thought bearing through the surface is that he right. The Sherlock I know now is very different from the one I met all those years ago. That hard robotic exterior now has a beating heart. He cares more than he will want to admit but he really does.

I look at mop head beside me and beam. Since John is done with tending to my wounds, I roll my shirt back down and finally let the sleeping detective wrap himself around me. He does as soon as I placed a hand on his cheek, he rolls over to my side, draping an arm over my ribs and pulling me close like he’s always done, enveloping my side with his warmth, his head snuggling and hiding itself on the crook of my neck.

I’ve spent years thinking nobody gave a damn about me. Thinking no one cares if I was dead or not. Never have I ever been more pleased to be proven wrong. All those years alone, holed up, thinking I served no purpose to this world, ready to lose what I thought was a useless life only to be brought up the wide and bright opening and end of the cornucopia. I have friends, who will stay at my bedside just to make sure I wasn’t alone when I wake up from a gunshot. A god daughter, who’s laugh brightens up the darkest shadows cast upon us, who’s lost enough people in her few years in this rock. And a partner, fiancée, who’s meant more to me and evidently, I to him than more than we both ever thought possible. We’d be lost without each other, there’s enough evidence to prove it.

I gaze back at John, eyes getting a bit droopy, I’m surprised my mind has been making long hard thoughts. He’s just standing there, staring. Creepy admittedly, but also lovingly. Sentimental, possibly thinking of Mary.

‘Hey’ I say softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. ‘Go home. Sleep. Stay if you want tea from Mrs. Hudson but go home afterwards. Take the two if they’re still here. I’m going to sleep, just give Rosie a kiss for me and make everyone get some rest. Thank you again for staying with me at the hospital. Leave the mess, I’ll get it sorted.’ I instruct before a yawn escapes me. He looks back at the detective snuggled up at my side.

‘I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.’

‘And who taking care of you, he’s not the only one I’m worried about at the moment.’

‘I’ve got you lot now don’t I. I’ll phone you if I need anything. Right now, I just want to shut my eyes for a bit.’ I give him droopy smile, sleep really wanting to overcome my body. He bids his last warnings to take caution with my wounds and I wave him goodbye and goodnight. He nods and leaves the room, while I nestle myself better in the detective. His grip tightens and he nuzzles himself closer to my neck as I slowly drift off.

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