#nothing is going to change until we move but that’s still at least a year away

[gallusrostromegalus]

Basically. I got screwed.

I am very sorry for how relatively quiet this blog has been but I've been dealing with a very unpleasant situation the last few months, and now I need help.

Essentially, I tried to help someone out, and she took advantage of me, and I have no way to recoup my losses.

Earlier this year, I moved into a new house. Before we sold the old house, a Now-Former friend ran into some trouble and was about to become homeless with pets and a small child. Not wanting them to be on the street, we offered to hold off selling the old house so she could stay there for a little while, if she could pay the cost of the mortgage on that house (because I could afford one mortgage but not two) while we helped her find somewhere more permanent.

I was not making money from this- since I was still paying the utilities and property taxes, I was actually losing money, but willing to soak that in order to help her save up and get her on her feet.

Instead, she:

Never Paid a Dime towards covering the mortgage costs like she agreed ($12,000 for the nine months she was there)

Trashed the house ($500 dump fees for the trash alone)

Let her pets piss and shit all over the house ($1,500 bio hazard cleanup, $4000 to replace the carpet and other damaged flooring)

Caused an electrical issue in the garage ($900 to repair)

Broke the washer, dryer and refrigerator ($2500 to replace)

Broke the fence ($1000 to repair)

When I told her I could no longer financially support her and that I needed to sell the old house, she illegally squatted there for a solid three months and I had to hire a lawyer and actually take her to court to get her to leave ($2,500)

The resulting stress has been, as you can imagine, stressful.

So stressful, in fact, that it aggravated a the medical conditions my husband had and made him extremely sick. He had to go to the hospital and take time off work to recover. Now the health insurance is trying to weasel out of paying his short-term disability claim.

So net, this woman has managed to cost me around $25,000 and that's not taking into account the missed paychecks and medical expenses. I do not have $25,000, and until at least $13,000 of that is spent to repair the damage she did, I legally cannot sell the house to even begin to recoup my losses.

Theoretically, I could sue this woman, but she doesn't have any money and it would be me paying even more money I don't have to get... Nothing. So I'm asking for help to cover the costs of getting the old house ready to sell, my husband's medical expenses, and other expenses incurred by this debacle:

If you can help out in any way-share, donate spare change, anything- I'd be extremely grateful.

Thank you.

#signal Boost #fundraiser #original post edited for clarity

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

#the ask had me sweatin #u guys need to start writing instead of me 😭 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #you’ve got mail💌 #<nerd!miguel3

[moonstruckdraws]

The Changes Through Time

And my project is finish! My gift to the CAS series and @somerandomdudelmao! (This is technically supposed to be for the 1 year anniversary of CAS, but I don't have the time to post it on the 12th and I don't understand the queue system lol)

I deeply love this series as I have made fanart for it before several times and honestly it really improved my art. Cass is also an amazing creator and I look forward to anything they post in the future.

(A bit of a spiel about the illustrations from this point on)

I was honestly going to go for more of a tarot card style with boarders and everything, but as I was composing the 1st illustration, I ditched the idea and just when for simple text. The third image (like how tarot cards read the past, present/current, & future) was going to be the present, but honestly I was confused enough trying to decide which illustration was the past & future with the first two. Plus the "current" state of the story doesn't have much significance yet (and references of them aren't made because it's generally their other outfits) so I went with their spirits!

1st illustration: Representing the start of it all with the current state of all the characters. Of course we didn't know the condition of Raph in the beginning, but since he remained static until Casey found him I believe it's safe to assume that he was in that state the whole time. This illustration is unfortunately my least favorite because it's not rendered the same as the others, due to it being the first fully rendered image I've done in a while. But oh well, I still like it for the most part.

2nd illustration: Representing all of the turtles resurrections with a group hug. Not much else to note about the meaning other than the fact that I almost gave Leo an arm that he does not have. This one was also the greatest to render as I had the most fun with the bright colors. This one is definitely my favorite.

3rd illustration: Representing the turtles spirits when they were dead. Though the last one was the best to render, this one was the best to compose as a whole. Mikey and Donnie were the easiest to do since their broken states were shown in the comic, but with Raph and Leo I had to be a bit creative. With Raph I wanted to show the lack of his senses due to being in a robot for a long time and everything being subconscious. It's not as strongly detailed as the others, but he did have the most stable conditions compared to the rest of his brothers. With Leo I wanted to display his lack of self physically. Since he was fading away, at first, I wanted his spirit to be more faded and weaker compared to the rest.

Nothing else to be said that wasn't said before, but I am very glad that I started reading CAS. I've never felt more invested and moved by a fanmade comic before, so this experience is actually life changing for me. And seeing others fanart for it only inspired me! I am truly amazed by Cass and this series. Happy early 1 year anniversary

#rottmnt #cass fanart tag #cass apocalypse series #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt casey jr

[eggcats]

Radioapple fic, where after it's revealed that Pentious was redeemed, Heaven sends some angels (including some of Lucifer's own family) down to check out this Hazbin Hotel. (common fic theme)

And Lucifer is STRESSED. He hasn't seen any of his family in millennia, and they absolutely did not part on good terms. Especially because now he has to make as good of an impression as he can because he will NOT be the cause of Charlie's dreams failing.

Anyway, one of Lucifer’s estranged family arrives and they have absolutely NOTHING good to say about the hotel, it's people, or even hell itself. Insulting the decor, how it looks, being like "You got kicked out for free will and THIS is what they do with it? Ugh." and the like.

Lucifer is trying to keep himself together for Charlie's sake. (He's only had 3 breakdowns today, he's doing good!)

However, the last thing he expects is Alastor coming to his defense. Alastor looks at this shitty relative of Lucifer’s and is immediately like, "How DARE you? Antagonizing this angel is MY JOB, and I don't send him into hysterics, I send him into MUSICAL NUMBERS. Get out of my hotel immediately." But, obviously, he can't SAY that (for many reasons, the least of which is that Charlie needs them here for her redemption project).

So instead, he just picks at everything they say. "Hmmmmm, yes, but we at least chose to do this with this, free will you're insulting. What's your excuse for that eyesore youre wearing, hmmm?"

Alastor goes as far as to defend Lucifer’s choices in decor in the hotel, and Lucifer is completely confused because he and Alastor literally fought the day before about that SAME decor??

(The second the angel leaves Alastor turns to him and goes "They're right, you know, that is the ugliest interior design I've ever seen," and then DISAPPEARS before Lucifer can even respond. What the hell?!)

Alastor is not ignorant of toxic family dynamics, and while part of his initial issues with Lucifer stemmed from his belief in him being a deadbeat father, actually knowing him kind of changes his thoughts on this. It's a little telling that Charlie has been (apparently) attempting to contact her mother during her 7 year disappearance and has heard nothing, but the father who (she believed) thinks she's a failure shows up within an hour of her calling him ONCE. And then he does whatever he can to help her dreams, and the second she implies she wants him around more, he MOVES IN. It's kind of hard to continue thinking that LUCIFER is the toxic parent in the family dynamic, after all this.

(He still fights him, though, because it's fun to tell the most powerful being in hell his choice of interior design is ugly. If Alastor kind of doesn't go for the throat in all of Lucifer’s insecurities anymore, no one needs to acknowledge that.)

So, during the entire Heaven tour, Alastor is strongly in the "form a united front" boat. He can and WILL come out of the shadows for a sarcastic quip that simultaneously shuts them down AND makes Lucifer feel better.

(Alastor will NOT acknowledge the anger that goes through him at the idea of someone other than him picking at Lucifer, especially when they are CLEARLY trying to send him into a breakdown. How dare they. *cough* Anyway.)

So the whole ordeal winds up not as stressful as Lucifer was dreading, because somehow he has an antagonistic cannibal deer defending him the entire time. And Lucifer has no idea HOW that happened, but it does kind of make him feel better. (And Alastor's form of mocking him does, too, somehow.)

When they're alone, however, Alastor still picks at him so they can fight. (And Lucifer didn't notice until now how much FUN he has fighting with Alastor, and that Alastor insulting him makes him want to do better and prove him wrong, unlike his visiting family that makes him want to lock himself away for a decade.)

The tour ends, and Alastor and Lucifer go back to how they were before. (Sort of. Lucifer might be re-evaluating every interaction they've ever had and might send himself into a mild crisis.)

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #duckiedeer #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #fic #mine #long post #Alastor seeing someone else making fun of Lucifer: how DARE you thats MY job and youre not even DOING IT RIGHT get out of my hotel now

[wongyuuu]

midnight rain | lsm

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

Letter #1

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was trauma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just…"

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

Letter #2

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

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

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

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

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

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

He had no idea.

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

"What? You’re leaving today?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #3

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you recommend?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

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

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

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your question?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #5

Seokmin

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

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

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

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

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

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

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

What am I still doing?

yn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never quite managed to do that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To hell with his plan.

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

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

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

“Seokmin, I…”

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled over your skin. 

“At least this hasn’t changed”

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

“Where’s your room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seokmin... harder"

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #6

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me give you a ride”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

yn

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[moon-rivr]

so I have this idea in my head right, how would Miguel would be like after breaking up with reader, but it was his fault. He kept lashing out at them even though they were trying to help, they tried and tried again and again until reader had enough and broke things off, and Miguel is HEARTBROKEN.

But take your time! And have a great day/afternoon/night !!

breaking point

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

contents: angst

author’s note: you just know the way to my heart w this request anon 😫

word count: 4k

"Los hombres no lloran, Miguel." (men don’t cry)

Conchata had first told these words to him when he fell off his bike around five years old, blood smearing all over his leg. He'd continued to hear those words throughout the course of his life whenever he got hurt, emotionally or physically. As much as the words had engraved into his very being, the only thing that he wanted to do as he stood in front of your door was burst out into tears. The bouquet of flowers he was holding dropped down to the floor, the petals scattering around the concrete. He willed himself to try to move, to get himself to walk away and save whatever bits of pride he had left but he couldn't. All he wanted to do was wait for you to change your mind, tell him that this was all just a cruel joke on your part.

He'd gone over to your house, wearing a button down shirt and his nicest pair of pants while he held the bouquet of roses in his hand, hoping that you'd go out to a dinner with him. He took note of the way that your smile faded away when you opened the door, your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner. He was met with a "what are you doing here?" instead of the usual kiss and hug he'd grown accustomed to when the two of you started dating. "I thought that maybe you'd like to go out on a date. Eat some of that spaghetti that you like," he responded, determined to making things between the two of you right.

He'd seen the spark from your eyes slightly dim with every day that passed, until you eventually looked at him with pure exhaustion. The love that you used to share for him completely disappeared, each glance directed towards him begging for a change. Despite the fact that the relationship kept draining every single of drop of your energy, he selfishly wanted to keep you close to him. He realized that the flowers and dinner that he'd offered you weren't enough to make up for the months of pain that he'd caused with his actions, but he held hope that it would be a step towards the right direction. Or at least an excuse for him to talk over with you, explain his reasoning for the way he’d been acting.

"What are you trying to prove with this, Miguel?" You asked him, your figure still blocking the door as the two of you conversed. "I’m not trying to prove anything. I just want to share a dinner with you, te lo suplico," he practically pleaded with you, the action foreign even to himself. He was used to being demanding to get his way, never being the one who was at mercy. "I don't want to have a dinner with you. You'll probably end up having a meltdown that I’m using the salad fork to eat my spaghetti," you remarked, standing out of the way to close the door. He pressed his foot against the door before you had the chance to close it, his brows furrowing through the crack on the door.

"Is it the spaghetti? We can get something else if that's what you want, I just miss spending time with you," he spoke up, holding your gaze through the opening. "You wouldn't miss spending time with me if you hadn't been so busy on pushing me away," your reply came out cold, detached. Part of the reason that he'd asked you out for this spontaneous dinner was that he wanted to make up for it somehow by doing a grand gesture, feeling you slip underneath his fingers with every day that passed. "Please? I won't ask anything more of you than just this date. I'll get down on my knees if you want me to, there's nothing that I wouldn't do for you," he told you, a dry chuckle eliciting from your lips.

"You say that now, but you couldn't even act like a decent boyfriend. You couldn't do the bare minimum and now you think that with some shocking spaghetti date, you're gonna fix the damage that you did to this relationship. I don't want anything to do with you, leave me alone," your annoyance was growing by the second with every word that you uttered, closing the door after he stepped aside. You thought that expelling him out of your life would make you burst out into tears, that it would elicit a feeling of pain deep within inside you. But, you'd spent so much time mourning the loss of the relationship before this moment that it almost didn't feel real.

Going to his home to pick up your things a couple days later filled you with a sense of relief, knowing that nothing was tying you to him anymore. You held a box of the things he'd left at your apartment as well, a couple shirts from when he'd stay the night as well as a couple necessities. You didn't feel anything as you looked down at the stuffed animal he'd gotten you at the beginning of the relationships, back when the dates actually used to be something consistent. It was a bizarre that every memory of the relationship that the two of you held could easily be buried into a box, the contents of it each signifying something different.

You hesitated for a moment before knocking on his door, setting the box on your knee to free up one of your hands. You looked up at Miguel as he opened up the door, a stubble starting to show on his chin as well as the dark circles adorning his under eyes. You'd seen him spend many days awake, never exactly looking the way that he looked now. "We're doing this whole thing?" He asked you, his scratchy voice taking you out of your thoughts as you focused back on the task at hand. "Yeah, I just figured it would be better to get it out the way as soon as possible. Do you mind if I come in?" You responded, trying to ignore the smell of alcohol practically seeping through his pores. It almost made you feel a bit of sympathy, the fact that he was hurting so badly because of you. Almost.

He stepped aside to let you in, a couple papers scattered across the floors as well as an unkempt dinner table. "I'm just gonna go to your room and get my stuff," you muttered, stepping around the room to avoid the pieces of paper scattered around. The last thing you needed was for him to cause a problem over stepping some important paper. You'd stepped into his room, immediately overwhelmed with the memories of your time spent in here. Every single night that the two of you shared together, whether it be something bloomed out of intimacy or simply just comforting one another, ran through you like a tidal wave at all once. This room served as a place where you and Miguel had shared some of your most intimate secrets and moments, so it seemed a bit fitting that this was where it all ended. It took you a couple seconds to get your feet unstuck from the spot you were standing in, walking over to his nightstand to get some of your jewelry.

Miguel hated how you looked so casual while you were picking up the stuff, almost like the action didn't matter to you the same way that it did to him. "Are you sure we can't work out through this? I know we've been doing a little rocky recently but I don't think it's enough for us to end our relationship," he spoke up from his spot on the doorframe, his retinas practically burning from the sunlight coming in through the window. You'd pulled the curtain back to have the natural sunlight guide you through the room while you were picking up your stuff, but he hadn't slept in days. It felt like he was staring into direct sunlight so he pulled out his new best friend, a pair of sunglasses he'd bought last time he went for a beer run. Despite the fact that his body metabolized the alcohol at an accelerated rate than most, he still enjoyed the couple of minutes he felt a buzz.

You turned to look back at him, completely brazen by the way that he was choosing to approach the situation. "We haven't been doing rocky just recently, we've been rocky for a couple months now. And if you're not going to attempt to be better, then what's the whole point?" You responded, putting in the final articles of clothing that belonged to you. "I already told you, I've been stressed out lately. I promise once I'm done with this anomaly case, I’ll be more agreeable to be around," he told you, his heart pounding inside of his chest as you stepped closer to him on your way out. "You've been saying that for the last five months. Being stressed out doesn't give you a free access pass just to be an ass to everyone trying to help you," your words hit him like a dagger, the intensity of the impact increasing as you walked out on him.

The relationship that you'd had with Miguel was good at the beginning, like something told out of a fairytale. You met him one of the missions dealing with a Rhino variant, the mission proving to be more challenging than you'd originally anticipated. You'd called him as a last resort, your suit hanging on by the last thread and web shooters running dangerously low. You were extremely lucky that you were even able to swing far away enough from the anomaly, fingers haphazardly moving across your gizmo to call for backup. He'd appeared next to you, taking a glimpse of your appearance before motioning you to go inside the portal. "I'll take care of this, you're too hurt to continue. I'll send you the report later if that's something you want," he'd told you, analyzing the scene in front of him before jumping into action.

Even though you did want to see the end to this fight, you realized that you might be more of a hindrance than help in the current state you were in. You staggered inside of the portal, getting transported back to HQ in what seemed to be only a matter of seconds. You made your way into the infirmary to get a couple wounds checked out, your accelerated healing slowed by the amount of hits you'd taken throughout the course of the fight. The nurse's precise hands were a nice change of pace from the sloppy work that you were used to doing on yourself, the process of getting the stitches done not being as bad. "If you're still in pain after, just come back and we'll give you something to accelerate that healing of yours. It should be gone in about an hour or so," the nurse told you as she was finished up with your injuries, rinsing her hands in the sink at the back of the room.

You thanked her for the job that she'd done before heading out to the lab in order to make some modifications to your suit. You were looking through the formula of your webbing, trying to pinpoint why exactly it was that you ran out of them so fast. The webs had lasted you long enough when your only job was to protect New York in your dimension but now that you were acting as a multi-dimensional protector of sorts, you'd found yourself to be running out of them much faster than your other counterparts. "What are you doing here this late? Shouldn't you be resting?" You heard from behind you, turning around to be faced with miguel's stoic expression as he walked in through the door. "I'm doing better, I’m just trying to figure something out with my webbing. How'd it go with the rhino?"

"It was fine. You'd done a decent job of beating him up so the task wasn't too difficult to get done," he responded, taking the notebook from you as he read through the components of your writing. You wanted to let out a scoff at how he'd taken it away, but you also knew he could offer a unique perception of the composition given his previous job. You weren't used to depending on much people, the only person that'd been that constant for you being Uncle Ben before his imminent death. You couldn't deny that it did feel like a small burden being lifted off your shoulders to be able to depend on someone else for help, even if it was in the form of a mildly tempered man. He took your pen from the desk, starting to write some things down before handing it back to you. "Try changing these and see how much better it gets. I'm not too specialized in the matter since my webs are organic but I think it'll do you some good."

Miguel always found himself annoyed when someone burst into his office without announcing their arrival beforehand, but he couldn't seem to get annoyed with you when you did. "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering. I wanted to thank you for the insight you gave me, it really did help with the webbing issue," you spoke up, having to crane your neck to look up at him as he stood on the platform. "No problem. Is there something else that you needed?" he responded, the platform slowly starting its descent. "Well, I was wondering if you could help me design a new suit since mine got pretty torn up during that battle. You seem to be aware of what type of materials to use and whatnot, so I figured you were probably best to ask," you told him, his figure looming in front of yours as he got off the platform. "Sure, follow me."

It was easy to fall in love with him despite the nature that he showed to others, since he was always so relaxed with you. You could see the walls that he'd carefully buried his feelings with slowly start to crumble down every single time that the two of you were together. Dates between the two of you had become routine, some of the members from HQ commending you for getting Miguel out of his office for more than a couple minutes at a time. He caressed your skin with such care, each one of his touches exuding the affection that he was harboring towards you. The time that he told you that he loved you, you couldn't help but feel like you were on top of the world for a change. You knew how hard it was for him to love people, to even get close to them, so to have the honor of having his heart was one you valued greatly.

You weren't sure when your relationship with Miguel started to feel like it was heading in a downward spiral, the whole thing resembling the feeling of being on a rollercoaster. "Don't worry, he just doesn't know how to deal with things," Peter had tried to assure you after he witnessed one of the more intense fights that the two of you had. You'd tried to take Peter's advice and not let the arguments get too much to your head, but it seemed like you were walking on land mines every time you interacted with him. After every storm, there seemed to be calm aura around the two of you for a couple days. almost as a way to recharge and regroup before the next fight started and the cycle repeated itself once more. You forgave him every time that he did something you would disagree with, a small part of you dying inside with every "it's okay" that you gave him.

He'd grown more fond of you, falling deeper and deeper in love with you every time that you forgave him for pushing your boundaries. But on the contrary, you started to fall out of love with him with every empty promise at being better that he uttered. His apologies had become repetitive, to the point where he was simply just recycling them in hopes that you wouldn't be pissed off at him for more than a day or two. The words "I’m sorry" had become a routine part of his vocabulary, almost seeming like every conversation that he held with you included them. The words soon enough lost all the original meaning to them, especially when he said them in that tone that implied he would rather be doing anything else than apologizing.

"Can't you see i'm trying to focus on this damn anomaly? It's already hard enough with you interrupting," he scowled as you came into his office with a box of pizza. You'd meant for it to be a kind gesture, for him to be able to eat something throughout the day since you knew that he would spend most of time buried away in the shadows tinkering with his screens. "I just wanted to get you something to eat so you wouldn't have to worry about it," you hated how weak your voice sounded as you spoke, your voice doing nothing to conceal the hurt you felt. "I'll change, I'm sorry. I'll do better," he assured you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead once he saw your bottom lip tremble. "I'm just so stressed, y'know how it is. I'll manage it better for you, I promise. I'll really do it this time," he told you before you walked away from his office, imaginary claws digging into your chest. And he had kept his promise, mostly changing for the worst.

"I don't get why you're so pissed off that I missed our date, it's just one out of many. We'll just go on another one," he scoffed, not even bothering to look at you as his fingers typed away on the hovering monitor. "It was our two year anniversary date, Miguel. And I'm pissed off because you've been missing out every date that we have scheduled for the past five months," you managed to get out, almost like you didn't believe that he would forget. "I said I would make it up to you, stop making a big deal out of this," he reiterated, talking to you like you were the one in the wrong for having the simple desire of wanting to hang out with him. "There was a time when you actually knew the balance between being with me and your work. I hope you find that soon for both of our sakes," you told him, reminiscing of many months ago before stepping out of his office.

You were so tired of forcing yourself to look at the good that had been in the relationship, tired of living off of solely the good memories. The decision of breaking up hadn't been something that crossed your mind until you saw a couple strolling down the street while you were on your way to get something to eat. You'd never felt so alone looking at them despite the fact that you had a partner, but the way that they laughed and basked in each other's presence seemed something almost foreign to you at this point in time. You were grasping at straws, hoping that one day Miguel would wake up and love you the way that he used to. But that hope inside you slowly began to extinguish, until there was nothing left but just a feeling of adaptation. You wanted to convince yourself that you could adapt to this new way of living, of being able to claim that he was your boyfriend out of the love you felt for him without actually spending time with him, but the simple truth was that you couldn't handle it anymore.

To him, the breakup had been sudden. like you woke up one day and decided that being with him wasn't worth it anymore. It was hard for Miguel to even fathom the idea of having to go through the motions of life without you, especially when he saw himself having a future with you. He'd thought about what it would've been like coming home to you, maybe with a couple kids and a dog running around. But that's all that it was now, just a thought he wouldn't be able to fulfill. He felt the void of your presence everytime he walked inside of his apartment, it was like you had never been in his space in the first place. He wanted to grow accustomed to that feeling, but every single of atom of his being couldn't help but yearn for you.

Every single task that he had to do in his life felt meaningless now that he couldn't return home to you, not that he would do it on most days regardless. But he liked to have the knowledge that you would be there, welcoming him with a hug and a smile while your hands massaged his back. He knew that it was nobody's fault but his own, for pushing you too far past your limits. He wanted to blame it on his upbringing, for not having a good coping mechanism with his stress, but he knew that the fault all lied on his shoulders. He wasn't aware of how good he'd had it until he lost you, realizing just how lucky he was to have someone so kind and understanding be by his side. His hands reached out for you in the couple hours of sleep that he managed to get, silent tears rolling down his cheeks after finding that you weren't there.

"Your serotonin levels are extremely low, are you sure you don't want to take a break from all this?" LYLA spoke up, doing the routine health scan Miguel had programmed her to. "Don't start. Just give me the reports," he grumbled, looking up once LYLA was finished talking. "You have 10 missed messages, do you want me to read them out to you?" LYLA asked him as he sat at his desk, his hands on his knees as he looked down at the floor. As LYLA read out the messages that Gabriel along with a couple of the other spider recruits had sent him, he couldn't help but wish that maybe your name would pop up in between the mix. "Discard them all, thank you," he ordered LYLA, the assistant doing as she's told before disappearing off into thin air.

"Miguel! My man, How are you doing?" Peter's voice boomed throughout the office, his voice echoing through the confined space. Miguel gave a small grunt in response, not willing himself to entertain him at the moment. "Well, I have to say that me and MJ are doing so great right now, I'm honestly so lucky to have her in my life," Peter gushed about his wife, completely oblivious to the internal turmoil raging inside of Miguel. "Are you here just to talk about how wonderful your wife is or does this impromptu appearance have a point?" He asked the man, arms folded underneath his chin. "Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come out of your office for once. You've been trapped in here for a long time," Peter told him, his bunny slippers squeaking on the floor as he walked closer to Miguel. Miguel wanted to deny the accusations and lie, say that he's fine and that he'd been going outside of his office, but he decided to stay quiet.

As soon as he stepped out of the office with Peter B, he couldn't help but instantly regret his decision. because there you stood, laughing along with something a recruit was telling you. At that moment, he so captivated by the way that your laugh sounded, like the tune of a thousand angels singing down on him. The way that your smile just seemed to radiate across the room even to him, making him feel as though he were a planet and you the sun, simply entranced in your orbit. But with those feelings also stemmed the feelings of regret and jealousy. He wanted to be the one that made you laugh like that, wanted you to even spare a single glance at him. It made him want to hold you in his embrace one more time, to appreciate everything that he'd lost the moment you broke up with him. You were so close to him, yet so unattainable.

#moon-rivr #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara angst #angst #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel imagine #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel fic #miguel 2099 #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel atsv

[imbored1201]

really enjoyed both your Barca x teen reader fics, would love another part if you can, particularly with more lucy!

Christmas Guest

A/N: I’ve been wanting to make a Christmas fic, so I thought this would be perfect

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader(Mostly a Lucy x teen reader), but some motherly Alexia

Word Count: 1,194

Growing up, Christmas always ended terribly. Always one of your family members getting into a fight with each other to the point where police may have had to be called or your parents yelling at you or each other.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Pina asked, and you looked at her, confused. It's something you were never asked about by anyone. "Nothing," you simply said and went back to changing. Claudia groaned. 

"You never want anything; you told me the same thing for your birthday. Come on, anything? A video game? I'll even get you a car," Claudia said, frustrated.

"I don't even have a driver's license," you mumbled to her as you gave her a little smile and walked away to the field. She groaned, and went to rant to Alexia. 

—————

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Lucy questioned you, "Nothing, just sleeping all day." She looked at you, confused. "Are you sure you don't want to go back home with me?"

She knew you had a complicated relationship with your parents, and her family loved you, so you were invited to everything. You've already been invited to four different people's family gatherings. 

Ingrid's and Mapi's; they were going to Norway. Fridolina's in Sweden; Keira's, but she was leaving like right when the last game was over; and Alexia's. Alexia said if you didn't decide, then she would drag you to her family.

"I don't want to be a bother." Lucy shook her head. "Kid, my mom has a stocking hung up for you; she's been asking me every day if you're coming. Trust me, you're her favorite child." You smiled a bit at that. "Are you sure?" She nodded, "Okay then," Lucy cheered and jumped up. "We leave in two days," she ran off to brag to everyone you were going with her back to England.

You smiled a bit and focused back on your last practice of the year. 

————-

Right when you got home, Alexia sent you to the dining table. "Alexia, it's Christmas break; I have no homework," you told her as she set down a paper and pen in front of you.

"Nope, you're making a wishlist. I want you to put at least 30 things." "Why 30?" "The whole team needs ideas."

"I don't know what I want," you muttered. "Well, you better think about it. Don't you dare move from that table until you have at least 25 things."

After the 10th thing, Alexia sat next to you and read what you currently had on your list. She did disapprove of some stuff, like all the nerf guns, since you would probably end up shooting someone in the eye. 

"So Lucy?" Alexia asked you, "Yeah." Alexia looked a bit happy and a bit worried. Ever since you joined Barca, you've never left Alexia's sight. She even dragged you to her photo shoots.

"Okay, let's start getting you packed then, and please behave; you get more wild around Lucy.”

"I always behave," she gave you a look. "That's not what Leah tells me," you smirked. You still remember the yelling Leah gave you and Lucy when you guys snuck out after curfew to go to a nearby park. 

You guys found it funny until the next day, when you had to do extra laps while everyone laughed at you and watched. 

—————

Saturday, 5 a.m.

You groaned as Alexia put a beanie over your head and went through your suitcase again to make sure you had everything. "Your toothbrush?" "My backpack." "Charger?" "Backpack" "phone?" "Pocket," "do you have your headphones? You know you need those on the plane or you get really nervous." "In my backpack."

After more questions, you finally spoke up. "Alexia, we did this last night." "I'm just making sure you have everything," she defended.

"You're such an overbearing mom," Lucy laughed as she picked up your bag to put it in the trunk. Alexia was driving you guys to the airport. 

The whole car ride was Alexia telling Lucy what you needed and your usual routine. 

Lucy wasn't even listening; she kept reaching over to pinch and give you slaps on the thighs since you were kicking her seat. 

The bye was odd; Alexia had some tears in her eyes, and you and Lucy awkwardly glanced at each other. "Lex, I'm only leaving for a week and a half," you told her. 

"Nah kid, those are tears of joy," Lucy joked as Alexia gave you a tight hug.

Then she turned to Lucy, "you better bring her back in one piece of Lucia." Lucy smirked as she started dragging you into the airport. "I'm not promising anything."

—————

"Come on kid, mom is over here." Lucy's mom was waiting outside of her car, smiling softly. You were a bit scared; you knew Lucy's mom already; you guys had met after the Euros. You had also met her brother, niece, and nephew during the World Cup. 

As you approached, she was quick to pull the two of you into a huge hug. "Y/N, how have you been?" She rubbed your back and pinched your cheeks.

"I've been good; how have you been?" "I've been amazing, missing my children and grandchildren as always, but I'm just happy we'll all be together again." Lucy smiled as she put the luggage into the car.

"Look, I got you two matching sweaters for Christmas Eve," she said as she held up the sweaters. You took it happily, muttering a 'thank you' and showing it to Lucy, who was smiling at your reaction.

After meeting her dad, Lucy could tell you were their new favorite child. You would sit with her dad and talk about sports, and her mom would teach you how to cook. 

Lucy took you around her home and showed you all the places she loved as a kid. You two had also gone last-minute Christmas shopping for everyone. 

You guys even spent all day eating ice cream and decorating cookies, something Alexia probably wouldn’t like since she didn’t like when you ate a lot of sugar. Lucy didn’t care, though; she happily dealt with your sugar rush. 

—————

Christmas Day was eventful. You were woken up by her nephew jumping on you. 

"Ow," you mumbled and groaned as you heard Lucy's laugh. "Come on kid, don't be a grinch," you sighed as you sat up. 

You could hear the kids giggling and shrieking downstairs, and Jorge running around, probably chasing them. 

"Carry me," you grinned at her. She rolled her eyes but listened, giving you a piggyback ride to the chaos. 

Christmas went perfectly. Lucy's parents went all out with their 'youngest child', who was you, and their grandchildren. 

When you got back home, all you could talk about was how great Christmas was. The team just listened and nodded along as they gave you their gifts. 

————

"It looks like you're going to have a permanent traveling buddy every time you go back home, Bronze,” Mapi joked.

“Mom will disown me if I don't,” Lucy responded, as she watched you chase Pina around, shooting her with the huge nerf mini gun Patri got you. 

#woso x reader #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #lucy bronze #alexia putellas #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni

[nebulaafterdark]

Exile (Part 3)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

Part 2

Days turn into weeks and they fall into a routine. Y/N and Haymitch lead different lives for the most part. He likes to stay in, she needs to go out. To see people. To prove to herself that the world didn’t actually change, only she did.

“My father wants you to come over for dinner.” Y/N tells her husband, upon her return from town.

“He wants me?” Haymitch frowns.

“Well, it’s a family dinner,” Y/N shrugs. “You haven’t really met my family.”

“I know your family.”

“I didn’t mean…” Maysilee.

“You said your mother struggles,” Haymitch remembers their conversations. Every word she’s ever said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to see me.” The boy who won, the year her little sister died.

“My dad wouldn’t have asked if he thought it would be too much for her. He’s very protective of my mother.” Sometimes at the expense of his own daughters. “It would mean a lot to me.”

“Fine.” Haymitch takes a long swig from his glass. “We can play happy family, why not?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to put on a show. Just be yourself.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d almost think you like me.” Haymitch smirks.

“Good thing you know better.” Y/N grins, turning away from him.

————————————————————————

“Well, Haymitch, it’s good to see you again.” Mayor Undersee claps the other man on the back as he steps over the threshold into Y/N’s childhood home.

“Nice to see you too.” Haymitch forces a smile.

“Please, come in and make yourself comfortable at the table. Dinner will be served momentarily.”

Y/N gives Haymitch’s hand a squeeze, kissing her father’s cheek, in greeting, before leading him deeper into the house. If Haymitch could even call it a house. More like a mansion, similar to the ones they occupy in victor’s village.

Madge and Mrs. Undersee are waiting for them at the dinner table. The girl glares up at him from her seat. She’s younger than Maysilee was, when Haymitch met her in the arena, but it’s still like seeing a ghost. It hurts to look at her.

“Madge pie, this is Haymitch.” Y/N smiles at her little sister.

“I know who he is.” Madge bites out. Y/N never had many nice things about him, until a few weeks ago when she up and married him.

“Y/N talks about you all the time.” Haymitch tells Madge. “All good things.”

Madge scowls, and says nothing.

“I understand that this is confusing for you. I know he and I don’t have the best track record.” Y/N sighs. “But what I need you to know is that Haymitch is good to me; he’s so good to me and he’s…important to me.”

Haymitch stares at Y/N, snapping his mouth shut as Madge huffs, but agrees to drop the subject.

He was important to her? Haymitch stews on it, through dinner. He couldn’t be important to her, he isn’t good enough. It’s his fault they’re in this mess to begin with.

But Y/N seems…happy. Happy with him and her family all together. Happy to make him part of her family.

Perhaps things have changed for her too.

The Undersees are nice enough, but they make Haymitch long for his own family. To have people he could bring her home to meet. His mother would’ve loved her. His little brother. His father was a man of few words, even still, Haymitch is sure Y/N could’ve pulled a smile from him.

When they are stuffed from their meal, the table disbands. Waving Y/N and Haymitch goodbye, from the doorway.

The victors set off, back to their village. Their foot steps falling in tandem atop the melting snow.

“I think they like you.” Y/N says, after a moment of silence.

“Your kid sister wants to string me up.” Haymitch chuckles.

“Madge will come around. She just needs time.”

Haymitch nods. “Well, they invited me for an encore next week. So at least there’s that.”

“You can tell them no, you know?” Y/N reminds him.

He shrugs, “happy wife, happy life.” You’re important to me too.

They manage to make it home, to the new couch in the foyer, before they’re a mess of lips, tongues and wandered hands.

“I want you.” Y/N breathes, staring up at him above her.

“You have me.” Haymitch assures her.

“Please?” She is prepared to beg. Because surely that wasn’t allowed.

They haven’t…not since their wedding night. Never just for them. Never just because they wanted to. Mostly, they exchanged a few words and then did this; kisses and heavy petting.

“Angel,” he sighs. She couldn’t possibly want that, she must want comfort and to be close to him. “This is enough, I’ll stay right here.” With her legs wrapped around him like a vice. “We don’t have to do anything else.” He nuzzles her nose.

“I want to. Just for us. Unless you don’t-”

“Oh believe me, I want.” His cock is hard and pulsing between them. “But only if you’re sure.”

Y/N nods. “I’m sure.”

Haymitch kisses her then, letting her set the pace. Their clothing hits the floor and Y/N keens as he slips a hand between them. She’s so wet.

“Please.”

“Anything you want, anything you need.” Haymitch murmurs, lining himself up with her entrance and easing inside.

“Fuck,” Y/N says. He angles her hips upward, hitting that spot with each pass.

“Is that all you want, angel?” He hums, cupping her breast in his hand. “I’ll keep you full of me and make you cum until you can’t think straight. Is that what you want?”

Y/N nods.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he all but growls. Leaning back on his heels, driving into her faster. “I want that too.”

He can’t avoid her like this, or feign a shred of indifference. All he can do is love her and love her and love her. Fuck, how he loves her. Even though he isn’t supposed to, even if he’ll only admit it to himself when he’s balls deep. Haymitch is in love. In sinking, festering, all consuming, inconvenient, love.

Y/N kisses him reverently, because Haymitch makes her feel things. He’s one of the few people who can, after the games. Like parts of her went numb in the arena. She feels nothing at all. But he sets her ablaze. Sometimes with rage, other times with passion, but she’s never felt this way about anyone before.

It is real, so very real.

The coil in her belly goes hot, impossibly tight. What is he doing to her? “I-” she begins to protest. “Uh!”

“You’re ok.” Haymitch assures her, pressing his hand to her lower belly, adding to the sensation.

“Oh god,” Y/N gasps. It’s unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Building and building… “Haymitch!” She claws at his forearms, in warning.

A rush of wetness greets him. Her cheeks heat up, but Haymitch won’t allow her to be embarrassed. “I want you all over me- make you cum on every piece of furniture in this damn house.”

Y/N whines, lost in him. His words, his touch, his eyes, boring into her soul as he ruins her. Until there is nothing left but him. All of him and all of her, splayed out for the other to see.

————————————————————————

Things are different after that. Haymitch becomes very…attentive. Bringing Y/N little gifts. Anything from books he found at the hob, to flowers he’d found growing around the back of their house.

Because it has become theirs now, not just his. Little pieces of her are everywhere, twining themselves into his DNA.

Y/N takes an interest in fixing his favorite meals, watching his face light up.

“Went down to the hob today.” Haymitch tells her, lying his latest offering on the dinner table.

Y/N turns away from her pot on the stove, flipping the burner off. “Oh?”

“Funny enough, they asked about you.”

“Haymitch-”

“Whatever you’re doing down there,” supplying them with things to sell, bringing money back into the district, “is grounds for execution. Even for a victor.” Haymitch reminds her. “So you’re gonna stop doing it.”

“I can’t stop, Haymitch. Those people, our people, they need that money. They’re starving!”

“I’m taking over. You supply the goods, I’ll pitch in some things of my own. But you stay away from the hob. Peacekeepers can’t see you there, nobody can see you there.” Haymitch continues.

“I’ve been doing this for years.” Since before the games. “I haven’t been caught.”

“You got lucky.” He reasons, “or maybe you didn’t.”

“What?”

“What are the odds that the mayor’s daughter gets her name called at the reaping? You didn’t have to take tesserae, so your name was in there once? That’s some incredibly bad luck on your part. Or maybe somebody did know that you were trying to help the people in the seam.” Haymitch lifts a shoulder.

“My aunt’s name was in there once. Just one time. It can happen and it does.” Y/N crosses both arms over her chest.

“Look, I don’t want to fight. I know this is important to you, but I can’t have you there. It’s too much of a risk. I’ll be the middle man.”

“Fine,” Y/N sighs. Reaching down for his glass and taking a swig. The liquid is foul, burning her nostrils and throat, causing her to sputter and gag. “Is that fucking rubbing alcohol?”

“That’s the hard stuff, angel.” Haymitch claps his hand against her back as she continues her coughing fit. “Should’ve started off with wine or champagne.” Something sweet for his sweet girl.

“It tastes different when…” Y/N’s eyes dart to his lips. “When it’s on you.”

“Interesting,” Haymitch muses. Suddenly he’s having her for dinner.

Part 4

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila

#haymitch abernathy smut #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch smut #haymitch x reader #moves & countermoves #exile #hunger games fanfiction

[reasonsforhope]

I can't take the state of the world anymore, every day things constantly get worse and there's literally nothing we can do. Every time things get better they're immediately undone by forces more powerful than us. I just want things to go back to the way they were before when it felt like there was hope, now it feels like humanity is doomed and will never, ever get better. I just want to die so I can finally know peace from this evil.

Hey. I'm really, really sorry you're having such a hard time. That sounds like an incredibly painful headspace to be in.

Please find someone you can talk to and who can help you - whether that's a peer counselor or a good friend or a trained mental health professional. Especially a trained mental health professional, if you can. You can find a really thorough list of crisis hotlines listed by country here.

Also, I realllllly recommend getting off any websites or social media that are contributing to you feeling like this, or at least block all the people/tags posting things that are making you feel like this. Negativity bias is real - the news/internet doesn't accurately reflect the world and neither does the way your brain perceives it

In the meantime, a few quick words/facts of comfort. I hope they can give you at least some reassurance or solace.

We literally have more reason to hope we can solve climate change than ever before x

Starting about six months ago, major international energy reports have come out for the first time showing that we have a visible, concrete path to staying under 1.5 degrees celsius x

Twenty, even ten years ago, scientists talked about whether we could possibly manage to limit global warming to 4 or 5 degrees Celsius. Now, those numbers aren't even on the map - we're talking 1.5 or 2 degrees Celsius. We've cut expected warming in half in under a decade x

Renewable energy is growing so exponentially it's now "unstoppable" x

Two hundred years ago, in 1800, there wasn't a single "liberal democracy" - a democracy that gives all citizens the right to vote - on the planet. Just over one hundred years ago, in 1900, there were five of them. Today, roughly half the countries (aka roughly 100) on the planet fall into this category. International politics is so often two steps forward, one step back, but this is actually an astonishing pace of progress in the grand scheme of things x

For all of human history, until just over 200 years ago, roughly half of all children died. Across times, across cultures. Half of all children died by the age of 15. Half of them. Today, globally, that same child mortality rate is only 4%. We did that. We changed what was previously an eternal, inescapable, and horrific condition of human existence, and we are going to keep making that rate go down x

Two steps forward, one step back, is still moving forward. There are so, so, so many reasons that we are not already doomed. There are so many reasons to think the future is going to be bright

To anyone struggling with thoughts like this: please, please give yourself the chance to see it

#Anonymous #ask #me #I am so so not a trained mental health professional or qualified to help people with this stuff #please talk to people who are qualified to help with stuff like this instead! #climate change #climate anxiety #climate hope #child mortality #humanity #good news #hope #cw sui ideation #cw sui mention #depression #climate grief #climate crisis #climate news #hope posting

[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

#woso #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #woso fanfics #woso x reader #arsenal x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson

[xinmin-exe]

Attack On Titan characters as Parents

Note: I haven't really watched attack on titan in years, so I'm sure all of these characters are gonna be OOC ALSO i am making it so everyone survived in the end and they all got their happy ending because these babies deserve it

WARNINGS: fem!reader, brief mentions of past trauma, mentions of miscarriage, very brief mention of the birthing process,

Eren

Eren was so traumatized after what his father did, he almost had a break down when you told him you were pregnant. It took him a couple weeks, and many, many late night talks with Armin until he was willing to try to be there for you. Eren was so nervous and worried he was going to be just like his father but the moment he saw his kid, everything just clicked. He was so gentle with them and always made time to talk and play with them during the day. As they got older, their bond grew even closer as Daddy and Aunt Mikasa took them out hunting every couple of weeks. Eren is an amazing father who despite everything he went through, made damn sure to do better for his child.

Armin

Armin never imagined having children, it just wasn't something he saw in his future. that was, until you came into his life and changed everything. When your little bundle of joy was born, Armin was in tears. He couldn't help but admire them and want to give them everything. Since then, Armin has done everything to nurture their ideas and passions. He even took them to the sea and let them play around. He wanted them to grow up with everything he couldn't have (aka, parents) so he did everything he could to stick around. Armin turned down multiple high government positions just to stay close to you and his child. Armin is the parent we all need in our lives.

Mikasa

When you approached Mikasa with the idea of wanting to adopt, she was speechless. Ever since her parents were killed, she never thought about having children. However, she loved you so much that she wanted to at least try. After all, she wasn't exactly motherly (at least that's what she will tell people) When Hange introduced you two to a young child (maybe 5 or 6) from the underground Mikasa's heart melted. She saw herself in this child so much that her protective instincts kicked in. She was so protective of this child, no one, and i mean no one besides you could be left alone with them. Even if it was armin or Eren, Mikasa was always in the room, one second away from glaring the other person into the next century. Mikasa really warmed up to the idea of being a parent and fit into the role well.

Jean

Jean was the one of the only in the group who wanted to still have kids. He knew what he wanted from life and was damned if some suicidal maniac was going to stop him. So when you were giving birth, Jean made sure he was right next to you, holding your hand and encouraging you the entire time. Even though you did scream at him "this is your fault! If i live through this i am going to KILL you Kirstein!" (the nurses thought that it was funny) But once your child was here, nothing else mattered. Once you were able to leave the hospital and go home, all Jean did was take your kid around and show off. Constantly saying "look at what i did" or "aren't they just gorgeous like their mom?" He always had something to brag about (even if the thing wasn't brag worthy), to Jean, anything your child did was amazing. Jean is very much the parent to scream at the back of the room while their kid is performing and embarrass the shit out of them.

Connie

Connie hadn't given having kids much thought. Afterall, he didn't even know if he'd be surviving long enough to be given that option. But once you told him you were pregnant, he was over the moon! Connie didn't let you move a muscle, ever. You need something from the top shelf? He's getting the stepstool. You want some food? He's already getting the ingredients out. And when you went into labor, he was right by your side. He let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to, and he made sure you were given everything possible to make birth as comfortable as it could be. Connie was so overwhelmed with love once he laid eyes on your child, the only time he let you hold them was when they needed to be fed. Connie got up to soothe them during the night, claiming it was the least he could do since you went though the pain of giving birth. Connie was there at every single milestone for their life, and he was never, ever going to stop being there for them; or for you.

Sasha

Oh boy, Sasha is the cool mom. When you two first adopted your child, she was admittedly a little awkward around them. But, after many late night snacks and a few bad cooking experiences, Sasha blossomed into a wonderful mom. She made sure they were eating properly and always had snacks on her. Your kids friends know that they will eat good when Sasha is around, and you two have become THE family. Sasha does tend to spoil them and say "yes" practically every time they ask for something, but they never try to manipulate that. You and Sasha both make sure your kid is kind and humble and thoughtful. With Sasha at your side, nothing is impossible and raising a child together was the best decision you two ever made.

Levi

Levi initially turned down the idea of having kids. Claiming that he was not fit to be a father, but fate wasn't having it. When you found out you were pregnant, you were worried to tell Levi. You knew he didn't want kids and you had grown to be content with that. What would he say when he found out? Would he leave you? Those thoughts sent you spiraling when Hange eventually let the cat out of the bag. Levi was silent but you could see in his eyes that was he happy. Even though he didn't want kids, he knew he wanted you. If that meant having to raise another brat then so be it. At first, he did the basics, changed their diapers, fed them, etc. But he never truly bonded with them until they were older and confided to Levi that they felt like an outsider looking in. He listened and did his best to offer advice and words of wisdom that might help. From then on, Levi was so much more involved and made sure that they were getting the life they deserved.

Erwin

Erwin was possibly the most excited to be a father. After everything, when things began settling down he approached you with the idea of trying for kids. At first you were the hesitating one, but Erwin was able to convince you to at least think about it. After a while, you were on board and baby, he got to work. It was along road, you had a miscarriage and that was demoralizing. Erwin made sure to support you the entire time. He understood that you may not want to try again and he was okay with that. It took you a year or so after for you to want to try again. But eventually, with enough effort and support, you gave birth to a beautiful baby. Erwin was in love with your child the moment he laid eyes on them. He spoiled them as much as he could, whenever he could. He was a dotting husband, and even more dotting father.

Hange

Oh boy, Hange is.. enthusiastic to say the least. They see it as a new experiment, at first. Hange takes your pulse every day, they measure how much you eat as well as your weight. When you gave birth, they were overwhelmed. There was a beautiful little bundle wrapped up in your arms and all Hange wanted was to hold them. Hange was so careful that you almost had to do a double-take. They held your child so gently, like glass. From then on, it was like the whole world vanished for them. They prioritized being there and being a parent over anything. Hange recorded all the milestones (first steps, first word, first tooth, etc) but they also recorded every other moment (like when they babbled for the first time, or when they first rolled over). But to Hange, they were all important moments.

#attack on titan #eren yeager #eren x reader #armin arlert #armin x reader #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #jean kirstein #jean x reader #connie springer #connie x reader #sasha braus #sasha x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #erwin smith #erwin x reader #hange zoe #hange x reader #aot #fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin

[frankiewritesstories]

Rainbow rose

Tw: hurt/comfort, my first fic with my FAV CHARACYER OMGHSGS LYNEYY, feel like this is kinda shit but oh well

You and Lyney have been dating for about a year now. It was like a dream come true. And as we all know, Lyney is (obviously) very flirty and a sweet talker. Though you may like it, it wasn't always a benefit for you.

Lyney's magic show at the opera house just ended. It was magical like always. You were talking to Lynette while waiting for Lyney - who had to do something at the back. You saw him coming back, but just as you were about to approach him, you stopped. Some girl approached him and started talking to him. You didn't mind.. at first. It was now near 10 minutes, and they are still talking.

You didn't mind....didn't....mind?

It seems Lyney performed a magic trick for her. You have just seen bits and parts of it, but it was enough for you to get an unsettling feeling in your stomach. He pulled a rainbow rose from behind her ear and smiled at her. Rainbow rose.... a flower that represents passion and romance. You knew Lyney wasn't dumb. He knew what that flower represents. Without much thought, you excused yourself from Lynette and went back home.

You were walking back home, lost in your thoughts. You loved Lyney, and you knew he loved you, but you told him multiple times-you don't feel comfortable with him being flirty with his audience. You wouldn't usually mind, but he even 'hangs out' with some of them. You know there are no romantic feelings present beetwen them, well, at least grom Lyney, but you can't help but get this weird ugly feeling once in a while. Ugh, what a joke... you though.... do my feelings mean nothing to him?

You were getting ready for your bed, but you realized you couldn't sleep. How annoying. You turned on the lights and decided to read a book. You were enjoying it until someone started knocking on your door. And then you heard his voice. No way.

"Y/N, hello? Are you okay? Where were you? I know you are in here, mon chérie." It was Lyney, of course

You weren't planning on opening the door. Oh he was inside now.

"Lyney? what the hell? What are you doing inside my house?" You can't say you didn't appreciate his..determination to see you.

"Hello, dear love! I couldn't help but notice you weren't there after my show. Where were you?"

"It doesn't matter, leave me alone"

"You know you can't hide from me, might as well tell me what's wrong, hm?" He tried to touch your face, but he knew something is wrong when you moved away.

"Fine, you know what is wrong? The fact you flirt with your audience every day in front of me, you even hang out with them even though you know what their intentions are!"

"Dear, that is a part of being a magician. I need to keep my audience entertained."

"You don't need to do all that! What if we were on a date and some guy approached me, asking me to 'hang out' and I accepted?!" You were getting mad now, he really didn't get it did he?

"Maybe you aren't the one for me." He froze, realisation of what he said hit him. "W-wait, no I-"

"Okay." You said. You started to walk around the house, collecting gifts he gave you throughout your relationship. He was following you like a lost puppy apologizing and asking what were you doing.

"Here you go, I'm giving these bac-" As you were turning around to give him these back, you were met with his arms instead.

"Please, don't do this. I-I know I was in the wrong...I promise I will change. I love only you, I just wanted to keep them entertained, I understand now how horrible it was of me. I can't lose you...please...don't leave me.." You knew how hard it was for Lyney to trust people and open up, and you knew even more how much he really loved you. You felt his hands shaking, and you heard the way his voice was shaking slightly. It was rare for Lyney to express his feelings like this.

"I forgive you, but dont break your promise" You said as you hugged him back, and you felt him hug you just a little tighter.

"Oh, what did I do to deserve you?" He said as he put cheem at the top of your head.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. You knew he had to go practice for his next show esrly in the morning so you didn't mind. You walked to the kitchen and found a bag of doughnuts with a note attached next to them.

Now you definitely forgive him.

#lyney x reader #genshin impact lyney #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #lyney fluff #lyney angst #fluff #angst #genshin fluff #genshin angst

[itsnotgray]

until forever falls apart | nico hischier

same drill as the cole one, i asked @fantillisdaylight for a player, and this is what became of it. decided this one hurt too good not to share with the masses.

~

nico and his little childhood girlfriend that start dating at 15, thinking it’s them against the world.

the girlfriend who moves away to canada at 16, promises of forever exchanged amidst the careful kisses they press to each other’s lips.

nico joining her in canada, and for a year, it’s perfect. they’re reunited, and filled with we laugh belief that they may actually make it. they made it when she was in canada, snd he in switzerland, so what can truly part them, if not an ocean?

the nico gets drafted, and still, reality hasn’t hit. “we made it with over 3000 miles between us, 800 is nothing.”

he goes to the show the very next season, headed to new jersey bright eyed and full of hope- hope for a long-lasting relationship, as well as a long-lasting career.

very quickly, nico is swept up in the nhl chaos. the media is more chaotic than ever, swarming through latest number one draft pick, eager to see how he’d perform against the very best.

and somewhere along the way, those 800 miles begin to feel like 3000 again. and suddenly there’s an ocean between them again. and suddenly, it’s like nico isn’t even living in the same stratosphere.

“you haven’t called in weeks nico! i’m lucky to even get a goodnight text. what’s happened to us?”

and nico absorbs the question, searching for answer within himself. “what did happen to us?” he asks himself.

and truthfully, he knew. it was a mixture of things, truly, but there was a primary cause: himself. he brought these problems upon them, and he knew it.

“i’m- “ “nico don’t apologize. i know you. i know how you’re mind works. it’s- it’s not your fault. i just think- i swore we were going to make it. but i think- i think we might’ve been wrong.”

and his heart breaks, but he knows it’s the truth. “‘m sorry,” he croaks out, the breaking of his heart audible, even with some 800 odd miles between them.

“me too,” she sobs back, covering her mouth to try and keep her wails in the confines of her mind, at least until they ended the call.

~

they didn’t end the call. they stayed on the phone all night, exchanging sobs and apologies, two shattered hearts trying to soothe one another.

at the all star break, nico flys back to halifax, needing one last moment together, not accepting anything less than ending their relationship in an embrace.

he knocked on her door, (the door of the apartment she had moved into at the start of school- nico missed that. he missed a lot. it made his heart hurt thinking about just how much he missed), fully expecting to have to sleep outside her door (but he’d do that, he thought. he’d do it for her. it’s the least she deserved), but to his surprise, she opened the door.

upon her door opening, he was greeted with a sight that made his heart ache in so many unexplainable ways.

she was there, perfect as ever. hair was a little ruffled, but she was perfect. it was like nothing had changed, but it reality, everything had.

“nico,” she sighed out, tears rushing to her eyes at the sight of the boy who had occupied her heart for so long now (but not forever, a voice taunted her inside- that was over now.)

in a blink of an eye, he crossed the threshold of her apartment (that smelt like her favorite candle, he noted inside his head. oh how’d he miss that smell), wrapping her in his arms. at the feeling of his familiar arms encasing her, she broke, sobs wracking her body once again.

“i guess forever wasn’t ours,” he croaked out, a sob cutting him off from continuing his sentence.

“i guess-“ she started, a sob interrupting her sentence. “i guess not,” she finished, tears soaking the fabric of nico’s hoodie (not one of his old ones, she noted. she knew those fabrics. this- this was new. she didn’t like that. it was just a symbol of the distance between them, literally and figuratively).

a while later, after the couple had calmed down, they sat huddled together on the couch, arms still embracing one another.

“it was good, right?” she hesitantly questioned, afraid of the answer he’d respond with.

“the best,” the boy replied.

and with that, it was like the string that tied them together snapped. the feeling was gut wrenching, that much was true. but over time, their hearts would heal. they’d move on, and one day, could hopefully look back on their time together and smile.

but for now, they’d simply remember each other by the ache deep in their chests, the longing that weighed down their bones, and the broken promises of forever in their hearts.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl fics #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #new jersey devils imagine #hockey oneshot #gray writes #nhl fic

[55sturn]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SNAP OUT OF IT: CHAPTER 0.01

↳ series masterlist! ↳ main masterlist!

↳ summary: in which y/n receives the news of her life and she feels on top of the world, as if nothing could bring her down, until she meets her dorm mate, rather, until she re-meets him.

↳ pairings: matt sturniolo x fem!reader [eventually, in this chapter, they are not friends]

↳ warnings: swearing, mentions of death, cigarettes, drug usage [weed], alcohol consumption, cocky!matt, flirting, bitchy!reader.

↳ important notes: i’ve been so excited to post this! this is going to be slow burn, and updates will be slow as well while i’m in the process of deciding what i want done with back to december, povs will change regularly between reader’s pov, matt’s pov, and third person pov, each pov is vital to the story and each character’s internal battles throughout the series.

↳ playlist for this series! song below for this chapter below!

READER’S POV

my hands shook as i held the letter that determined whether or not i’d have a chance at landing a job in screenwriting or directing, or literally anything the film industry would give me. landing a spot in this course, was extremely tough. it was only open to twenty five students, and there were thousands of applicants to rifle through each semester. it was a prestigious course, and if you excelled in it, the professor would consider sending out a letter of recommendation to any companies he knew were offering an internship. it was such high demand because the professor had a lot of sway when it came to massive filming and production companies, and would often land one of his students their big break.

but in order to apply, at least three years of training under some sort of local theatre was mandatory, the applicants needed to prove that they understood how screenwriting, production, and set or stage management worked, and there was still more that we needed to cover but those were top three areas of experience this course looked at. each applicant needed to prove that they were completely fit for this course and that they genuinely wanted to pursue a career in this field, and if you didn’t show it well enough, you weren’t even added to the consideration list.

it was a tough spot to land, and i would give anything to land a spot in this course. i had fought tooth and nail throughout all of high school to get grades that proved determination and hard work, the only university i ever had in mind was harvard, and if i didn’t get in, i wouldn’t know what to do with my life.

so here i was, freshly twenty-one, and finally holding the letter that led to the rest of my life, good or bad.

“come on you pussy, open it already.” jocelyn groans, she had been my rock throughout the entire application process. she’s been my best friend since we were six and bonded over having the same pencil case when she moved to boston in first grade. however, she’s been a bit callous to the idea of me being nervous about reading this letter. she was the type that barely scraped in high school, and she had decided pretty early that she didn’t want to go to any college or university. she excelled online and had amounted a huge following.

“joce, i love you but please shut up. this is the most important letter i’ve held in my entire life. i’m scared, what if i don’t get in?”

“please bitch, you’ve worked harder than anyone i know, i’m sure you’re going to get in.”

“thanks joce, but i genuinely don’t trust your judgement after the last guy you hooked up with. so i am going to take a shot and then open it.” i laugh, walking over to the cupboard above the fridge, grabbing the bottle of tequila we had bought in preparation for this very moment. i also grabbed two shot glasses from the mini bar-cart we had beside the fridge of our shared apartment, and began pouring a shot for the both of us.

“oh my fucking god. oh my fucking god!” she gasps from behind me, making quickly turn around, only to see that she held the open letter in her hands.

“what?”

“you fucking got in!” she exclaims, causing goosebumps to rise along my skin as i stand and watch her eyes dart back and forth along the page, reading the words aloud.

“dear miss l/n, i am pleased to inform you that the committee on Film and Visual Studies has voted to offer you a place in the Harvard class of 2025. dude you did it!” she beams, her voice full of pride and excitement, causing tears to well along my waterline as i stare at her.

“oh my fucking god, i did it.” i sob, feeling genuinely accomplished for the first time in my life.

“however it does say that the only available dorm situation is co-ed, since you had applied for on-campus living.”

“that’s fine with me honestly.” i shrug, wiping the tears, unable to rid my face of the smile that resides on it.

“alright, let’s take some shots and then start packing the rest of your shit. i can’t believe i’ll be living without for so long, i can finally walk around naked.” she hums, wrapping her arms around my shoulders as i sigh, my arms winding tightly around her waist.

i let out a loud laugh as i grab the bottle of tequila, followed by the two full shot glasses, sliding jocelyn hers as i stare at her.

“you’re acting as if you don’t already do that.”

“touché, however, here’s to my bitch starting her dream career.”

the next few days blew by in a blur as jocelyn and i finished packing everything i wanted to take. she was going to help take my stuff from boston to cambridge. the eight hour drive was going to be brutal, but it was completely doable, especially know that she’d be along the way. instead of driving sixteen hours total, she was going to spend the first night with me, she also wanted to scope out my dorm mate to make sure they’re not a total freak.

“i can’t believe i leave tomorrow.” i sigh, resting my head on jocelyn’s shoulder, the two of sitting on our balcony while she puffed her joint. jocelyn stifles a laugh before straightening out her expression, and turning to me.

“your mom would be so proud of you.” she says, her face blank as the absurd comment leaves her mouth.

“as fucking if.” i snort, rolling my eyes, taking the joint from her fingers, taking a small hit as she laughs.

“she’d probably ask why it took so long to get a response and then tell you that you didn’t try hard enough and that your acceptance letter was a pity letter.”

“probably.” i whisper, handing the joint back to her as i watch the setting sun, feeling a strong tinge of hurt swelling in my chest at the mention of my mom.

her and i never really had a steady relationship, when i was younger she was never really around, she was a big part of the film industry, quite the requested screenwriter, and was always in high demand which meant she didn’t take time to nurture me.

when she was alive and around more during my high school days after she was forced to retire from the spotlight due to her cancer, she was constantly berating me, the high ninety grades and constant participation in local theatre was never good enough. she always said i wasn’t shooting high enough. but she fell deathly ill my senior year, and that was a rough patch for us. i had snapped and told her that i hope she regrets the way she’s treated my entire life, and that i won’t be found at her deathbed. but when that time came, i was the first one to hold her hand and tell her i love her, but the reply never came from her, she just stared at the wall blankly until her boyfriend showed up and then suddenly she was lively as she could be while dying.

but i’ve moved on from that year, and it took a long time and shit ton of therapy to realize that i was never going to be the daughter she wanted, but my dad and my step-mother, melissa, have been as supportive as they could. they’ve been with melissa’s mom in maine for the last two months, helping her with everything after her husband’s passing.

i sigh again as i look at jocelyn, leaning my head back on her shoulder.

“we should probably head back to bed, we’ve got a long ass drive tomorrow.”

“yeah, wanna eat some ice cream first?”

“sure.”

after our ice cream, we finally crashed, both of us only getting about four hours of sleep after having to wake up at nearly six in the morning. we quickly got dressed, and grabbing the last few bags and boxes that needed to be packed into the car before leaving to grab food and drinks. after that, we finally started on our way to cambridge.

the drive was full of numerous stops, causing to get at the dorms around four in the afternoon.

“alright you stay with the cars while i go to the admissions centre and grab my key and i’ll go unlock the door and then we can start.” i hum in joce’s direction through her open window, grabbing my bag off the front passenger’s seat while jocelyn nods, climbing out, and stretching.

“i hope you get a hot roommate, you need a boyfriend.” she calls out, rolling my eyes, and flipping her off.

“i’m walking away i cant hear you!” i call back, following the signs that direct me toward to admissions office, as i enter i nervously approach the lady at the front.

“hi i’m here to pick up my dorm keys, room 496, y/n l/n.”

“here you go! so you’ll want to turn right, then take two lefts and follow the numbered plaques on the wall to the co-ed section of the dorms! and lastly, welcome to harvard!” the older woman chirps, flashing a warm smile that eases my nerves just the tiniest bit as i begin following the directions that she had called out.

as i reach my door, i fish the key from my pocket, quickly shoving it into the keyhole, wanting to get into my dorm as quick as possible. as i’m about to turn the knob, someone clear their throat from behind me, causing me to turn around. and once i meet the eyes of the person standing behind me, i immediately wish that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“this is my dorm?” he coughs, making my skin crawl at the idea of sharing a dorm for a year with the one person that i genuinely wish didn’t exist in my life.

“there’s no way in hell i’m sharing a dorm with you, matt.”

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[vivwritesfics]

Dads Best Friend

Part One

The SMAU

The L/N family holiday was famed among their friends. The L/N boys took their good friend, Fernando, away with them and they had the best time. At twenty three years old Y/N L/N finally goes on her first L/N family holiday with her father and her brothers. She definitely doesn't fall in love with the Fernando Alonso what who said that?

2.5K

The L/N family vacation was something of legend. For years Y/N had been hearing for years just how amazing the holidays her dad took her brothers on were. Until she was in her twenties, she never got to attend this holiday.

When her parents split up, she went to live with her mother while her two brothers went to live with her father. They got to attend the holiday that their dad had planned while she was left to watch their snapchat stories of what a great time they were having.

And then Y/N turned twenty-three and she finally moved out of her mother’s house, into her own place. Without her mother’s clutch on her, she could finally go on that famous L/N family holiday.

That was where she met Fernando Alonso, her dad’s famous friend. He’d been joining the L/N boys on holiday for the last couple of years. For the first couple of years of the L/N boys’ holiday, Y/N couldn’t work out who Fernando was. She saw him on her brother’s snapchat stories, on the videos they sent to her.

And then she worked out who he was. Fernando Alonso, driver for McLaren F1 team (at the time). Things clicked into place after that. Y/N’s father used to work for Renault when Fernando was driving for them and the two had stayed good friends when Fernando had changed teams and her father had moved onto a new career path as an F1 journalist.

At twenty-three years old, Y/N went on her first holiday with her father and her brothers.

They stayed in a villa. It was huge, with five bedrooms, a huge pool and a kitchen big enough to house the entire F1 paddock. Fernando stayed in the same villa as the L/N family, seemingly blending in with the boys. It was Y/N who felt like a stranger.

It wasn’t clear if Fernando knew who she was, knew that she was his friend’s daughter, but he was instantly flirting with her. Well, at first, he was just being kind, smiling at her, complimenting her, things like that. But then his eyes lingered, his touches lingered.

And Y/N wasn’t complaining.

On her second holiday with her father, her brothers, and Fernando, things went just slightly further. She was just twenty four years old, so Fernando didn’t let it go too far.

It was after dinner, and the family had all been sat around drinking. Y/N’s father and brothers went off to bed after a single drink, but Y/N and Fernando stayed up. She was never into Formula One, so, after getting the both of them something more to drink, she asked him all about it. She shuffled her chair closer to better listen to him as he spoke, watching the way his eyes lit up, the way his lips moved.

They finished their drinks before Fernando had finished speaking, so Y/N got them more. He sipped his drink and continued speaking.

It wasn’t clear to either of them how it happened. Maybe he leaned in, maybe she leaned in. Neither of them knew, but soon Y/N was in his lap, his hands cradling her face as they kissed. They both had their eyes closed, his soft lips against hers, her hands in his hair.

Fernando gained clarity before she did. He still held her as he pulled away and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We can’t, cariño,” he whispered as she placed her head onto his shoulder. Fernando wasn’t going to let her do anything that she was going to regret.

They wanted to avoid each other for the rest of the holiday, to not let anything like that happen again. But it was damn near impossible. They swam in the pool together, sat together at dinner.

To the L/N boys, it was like nothing had happened between the two. They had no idea that anything had happened, and they wouldn’t. Not until at least a year later.

Y/N and Fernando had no contact between holidays. But she started watching Formula One, just as a way to feel closer to him.

In 2023, Y/N and Fernando both went on the L/N family holiday. Y/N was just twenty-five and Fernando was forty-two. But she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head for the last year.

Something was different this year. This year, Fernando had bought himself a yacht. This was where the holiday started, with the L/N family on his yacht.

It was magical, sunbathing on Fernando’s yacht, which ever so gently rocked with the waves. While her father set about exploring the vessel, for it really was magnificent, her brothers were jumping from the side of the yacht, into the waves. With no prying eyes, Fernando filled two dainty glasses with champagne and brought them to where Y/N was laying. He sat beside her, his hand settling on her knee.

Just like Y/N, Fernando didn’t want to stay away from her. Ever since she’d stepped onto his yacht and pulled off her sundress, he’d wanted her. But she was seventeen years his junior, he was almost old enough to be her father.

The moment they got some time alone, Fernando poured the champagne and sat beside her. She stayed laying down as he sat, his hand on her knee. At first they made idle conversation. Fernando asked her what she had been doing in the last year and Y/N did the same. She didn’t tell him that she had been watching the Formula Onne, that she had been following along with his career. That would have been too embarrassing.

At one point during their conversation, Y/N’s hand flew to her stomach as it rumbled, the sounds splitting the air between them. Fernando let out a laugh, unable to hide his smile as he looked down at her.

“Hungry?” He asked and she nodded her head. Fernando held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. She allowed herself to be pulled up and found herself standing incredibly close to him, her chest against his.

Fernando stepped back and Y/N pulled her sundress over her bathing suit. She pulled her shoes over her feet as Fernando did the same. He took a moment to inform her father what they were doing and invite him along, but he declined, sending the two off together.

That was how Fernando and Y/N found themselves walking through the streets of their sunny holiday destination. Their hands swung between them, brushing against each other, but they never linked their hands together.

They found a small restaurant. They had maybe four tables inside and a lovely courtyard area out the back. String lights sat above them, and Y/N bet it would have been gorgeous during the evening. Plants surrounded them, and Fernando couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as they sat down opposite each other.

They ordered and their conversation resumed. This was where Y/N admitted to watching the Formula One in her spare time. Somehow, Fernando’s smile grew. “I’ll have to bring you along to the next race,” he said, leaning forward with his hand’s clasps.

When Y/N and Fernando first met, she didn’t think conversation with him would be that easy. But it was, he was so easy to talk to. As their lunch was placed in front of them, Y/N never wanted it to end. She took small bites, trying to prolong their time together.

They didn’t kiss again on this holiday, but it was close. Y/N sat beside Fernando at every meal, sat beside him on every sun lounger. When the shower in her room broke, she found herself in Fernando’s bedroom, using his shower while he sat on his bed. She allowed herself to pretend that this was domestic bliss, that he was waiting to smother her with kisses the moment she stepped out of the shower.

This time after the holiday, they stayed in talking, texting almost every day. Y/N always assured Fernando that she was watching the races and rooting for him.

Fernando knew what he had to do now. He had to take her to a race. He picked his home race, allowed her to stay with him during. His choice not to tell her father was not born out of malice, but more of an oversight. It wasn’t supposed to be suspicious.

“Can I drive?” Was the first thing that Y/N said to him when he picked her up from the airport.

At first, Fernando said no. He was smiling as he shook his head and took her bags for her. But then she batted her eyelashes at him and said a ‘pretty please’, and Fernando caved. He tossed her the keys and climbed into the passenger seat.

The only problem was that Y/N didn’t know where she was going. They were unfamiliar roads that she drove on as she headed to his place. But she was loving every second of it as Fernando directed her. Eventually, though, she had to get out and give control back to him.

For the rest of the drive, with Fernando behind the wheel, he kept his hand on Y/N’s leg, thumb brushing over her skin. She didn’t say anything, didn’t tell him to leave her alone. Actually, she was enjoying it, enjoying the feeling of his touch against her. His hand was warm against her legs, cooled by the air conditioning.

***

Of course, if Y/N was going to be watching a race as Fernando’s guest, she had to be wearing an Aston Martin hat. It was Fernando that put the hat on her head, stood close to her, his hand on her waist. It wasn’t supposed to be romantic, but it was, his touch, the way he pushed her hair behind her ear before he put the hat on her head.

She walked through the paddock with him, hands close but not touching. She followed Fernando to the Aston Martin garage, ignoring the photographers’ snapping pictures of them like a trained professional.

And the photographers got everything. They caught every moment of Fernando looking at her with hearts in his eyes. Every time she looked at him, hearts in her own eyes. When Fernando touched her waist, the photographers captured that. All of the pictures flooded the internet, with nobody knowing just who she was.

Fans were watching the race, but they were also seeing these pictures of the Fernando Alonso and this new mystery woman. They searched every corner of the internet, desperately trying to find this woman. At last, somebody found Y/N’s account. She was private, but the F1 fans flooded her follow requests.

Y/N didn’t check her phone while she watched the race. Her eyes were locked onto the number fourteen car, watching as he overtook, fighting his way to the front of the grid. He didn’t win, just coming in second. But Fernando was insanely proud of his result. After the podium ceremonies he ran straight to Y/N, straight to his guest, and pulled her close.

He lifted her up, almost kissed her, but he held back. “My good luck charm,” he said and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him.

That night, after the race, they didn’t hold back. Y/N was still staying with Fernando. It was her final night with him before she headed home. To make it special he made her a gorgeous dinner. Y/N had tried to cook, considering he’d just completed an exhausting race, but Fernando existed.

They shared a bottle of wine while they ate by candlelight.

Once they’d finished eating, they didn’t move. Fernando just looked at her. He didn’t move, didn’t get up to clear the plates, just stared. “I’m addicted to you.”

Y/N drew in a small gasp, but it wasn’t that surprising. She knew. She knew how Fernando felt about her, because she felt the same. She reached across the table, reaching for his hand. Fernando stood, and Y/N stood too. They stepped each other, wrapping their arms around each other as he pressed his lips to Y/N.

It was feverish, the way they clung to each other. It was so wrong, but it was so fucking right. Y/N held onto his shirt as they kissed, eyes shut. Fernando pushed her back until she hit the table, nearly knocking the candles over.

That seemed to be enough to pull them back to reality. Fernando pulled away from the table, pulling Y/N with him. He kissed her again and began clearing things away.

They weren’t in a relationship, but they spent a lot of time together. Most of Y/N’s social media had become pictures of Fernando, of their fun little almost dates. All of the pictures went onto her private Instagram, only with maybe three hundred of her friends.

When Lance Stroll, Fernando’s teammate and a lovely man, requested Y/N on Instagram, she accepted it. But she had so many fucking Instagram requests, it was insane to sort through them all. So, some crazed F1 fans slipped through the cracks. They slipped through, getting access to these pictures of her and Fernando.

Some F1 fans sucked. Not all of them, just some. Just some of them decided to use the comments of Y/N’s posts to voice their opinions on their relationship. On her relationship with Fernando. Everybody that commented wanted to say something negative.

At first Y/N tried to ignore it. She was enjoying the time she spent with Fernando and that was all that mattered. But it got to be too much. As she laid in bed with Fernando, her fingers tracing the tattoo on his back and neck, it was all she could think about.

People really fucking sucked. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from pulling away from Fernando. It was childish really, the way she let people get to her. All she wanted was to have her body pressed against his own, lips against his as he held her close. But, for the first time in months, she returned home.

If Fernando could tell she was pulling away or not, he didn’t say. She missed him, but their lives continued on like normal. Her pictures were no longer of Fernando and his life was back to racing. There were some fan’s who missed Y/N, missed her appearing at races, missed pictures of Fernando on her social media.

But she couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t deal with other people reactions to her being with Fernando. Even if all they did was kiss a little. They weren’t even a couple, and everybody hated her.

But it didn’t stop. She didn’t stop seeing news, false rumours, about her and Fernando across her timeline. So, she did the only thing she could think to do to stop it.

y/nl/n unfollowed fernandoalo_oficial

fernandoalo_official unfollowed y/nl/n

Tags: @biancathecool @formulaal @prettiest-at-the-party @rewmuslupin @darleneslane @hellowgoodbye @hollie911 (I'm assuming w that one) @nikolaros22 @callsignwidow

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #fa14 #fa14 imagine #fa14 x reader

[thereticx]

ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ | ᵉʳᵉⁿ ʲᵃᵉᵍᵉʳ

(this contains sexual content)

There's nothing more comforting than spending time alone, shielded from the outside world, from the day to day problems, where you can stop and breathe and just–live.

His hair was a mess of dark brown locks spread out on the wet field of grass, the smell was fresh which Eren inhaled deeply. For him, this was heaven, under the big three with an immense crown of leaves preventing the sunlight from hurting his eyes.

One hour, perhaps too–he never bothered to count. Eren closed his eyes for a bare second, his chest moving up and down. In his euphoric state he felt the gentle pads of your fingers massaging his scalp. You entangled each and every strand, twirling them around your fingers and tugging slightly but not enough to hurt him.

”What are you doing?”

”Resting”

”Well, get up. People may pass by and mistake you for a drunk or worse” Eren felt the person hit his leg causing him to open his eyes and see who was bothering him.

Carla, his mother, was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest ”No one ever comes here” He replied, inspecting his clothes that were slightly wet now ”Huh…”

Eren offered her a smile then kissed her forehead ”Armin passed by on his way to the library. He said you guys would be going to a concert tonight”

Carla wrapped a hand on her son's upper arm and started walking back to their house. She made small talk for the whole 15 minutes until they reached the front door. Eren was not chatty when being woken up and he only nodded at everything his mother said " Now go shower, you smell”

Eren laughed and thanked her before disappearing up the stairs.

—

(flashback)

Everything was perfect. The weather, the food, the drinks, the people–”Cmon Connie sing us some more”.

”I expect you assholes to pay me by the end of this” He smirked, moving his fingers along the guitar chords. Connie started playing back in freshman year of highschool, hoping that one day it'll be more than a hobby to pass time and entertain others.

Eren nuzzled his nose in your neck, kissing it softly. His lips were cold and wet, trailing up the shell of your ear ”How are you feeling?Do you like it?”. He moved his hand on your thigh, resting it eventually on your knee ”I love it here”. You said, stroking his knuckles with your thumb.

Nights like these weren't out of the ordinary here. Every young adult came to the beach during summer break, partying and just living their youth. Just a glance at your friends and at him–swaying their bodies, singing along and opening another can of beer, except for your boyfriend. Eren squeezed your body closer to his and let his head rest on top of yours ”You still have time to change your mind. Just say that you'll stay”

”Eren–”

”I know, I know. But consider it at least. This way we won't have to say goodbye”

You moved your head to the side, crushing your lips onto his, in a rushed kiss ”Wanna get out of here”

He smirked, lowering his hand closer to your inner thigh, having no shame ”Finally”

—

The memory was sweet. Whenever he felt lonely or just utterly lost, he would close his eyes and relive that night again. It was the last one where the two of you could describe yourself as truly happy and in love.

When you left, Eren's life suddenly stopped. After four years he's still stuck. Looking around him, at his friends, his family he may think ‘It’s time to let go’.

“Yes..”

“What was that darling?” His mother asked while rolling the dough on the counter. Carla smiled and wiped her hands full of flour on the worn out apron.

Eren mumbled under his breath, continuing to cut the vegetables as his mother requested. He found cooking a hobby to distance himself from whatever inconvenience and with Carla beside him, time would fly by.

“Careful with that knife, darling” She said, before checking the food on the stove.

Eren sat the knife aside “I'm done. Do you need help with anything else?"

His mother shook her head and kissed him on the cheek “No. You can go”

“Ok” He smiled.

–

“Connie! Stop changing the song” Sasha repeated for the ninth time in the last hour.

She checked her makeup in the mirror before handing her small makeup bag to Eren “You'd be lucky to not poke your eye out”

He chuckled before applying the black eye pencil to his waterline, smudging it just the tiniest bit.

“I can't wait until we get there” Mikasa announced, the excitement radiating from her face. She was dressed with a black leather dress, silver jewelry completing her look. The girl was a huge fan of rock music since she was little, dragging her friends to every concert nearby. Slowly, they became obsessed with it too.

“We still have to pick up Jean” Connie remembered, resting his hand outside the window, the smoke from the cigarette disappearing in the wind. Before Sasha could notice he took her phone and changed the song to one of Arctic Monkeys.

The girl wanted to say something but Connie interrupted her “It's my turn to pick” She slumped back into her seat and started singing along.

“Jean texted. He's waiting for us”

Connie nodded before taking the last drag of the cigarette and let the stick get lost out the window.

___

The music was loud. People were screaming their lungs out but despite that he couldn't hear anything. Everything went quiet.

Fuck

Swaying bodies bumped into each other, hundreds and hundreds of faces and yet he only could focus on yours.

Hair sticking to your glowing face, lace black top revealing more of your chest, black pants hugging your curves just right.

You were happy, so happy. Singing with your friends, taking videos when suddenly your eyes landed on him.

Fuck

He was breathtaking just like the last time you've seen him. Leather jacket with a cropped shirt that revealed a slight part of his tattoo.

Would it be wrong to make your way over to him? Would he be welcoming?

Your friend nudged you by the arm and tried to whisper something in your ear “What?!” You screamed, unable to decipher what she just said.

She suddenly grabbed your face and screamed “Go to him!”

That's all you needed.

You squeezed your way over to his unmoved figure.

Should I hug him?! No. A smile should do it. Yeah.

And a smile it was indeed. When his lips parted yours and his tongue tasted yours. You smiled briefly, tangling your fingers into his long brown strands. His eyeliner was smudged adding a contrast to his beautiful green eyes.

He cradled your body further, until your chest squished on his. Eren angled your jaw to deepen the kiss, his breathing getting faster.

No words were spoken that night. The kisses and the touches were enough.

__

His body trapped you underneath, his hands ripping off the lacy top you wore, revealing your breasts to him. Lowering his head he desperately started to suck on them.

Eren loved your breasts. He worshiped them like some kind of divinity. Sucking and pulling and massaging the plumpness of your chest, all to get a reaction out of you.

You tugged on his hair, pushing your pelvis up, hopefully to rub onto his hard erection.

He gently rubbed his thumb on the side of your neck, encouraging you to keep going.

With a hand on his chest you pushed him on the bed, his back resting on the ruffled sheets.

Eren helped you settle on top of him, his fingers unbuttoning your pants. His eyes analyzed your face, searching for some sort of inconvenience–there was none.

Slowly but surely the two of you undressed each other.

When was the last time you had him inside you? A long time ago. But your body seemed to remember him–your all too beloved boyfriend.

The eyeliner ran down his face, his long hair untamed as he moved brutally inside you.

You felt the heat build up, the pleasure overtaking you.

Eren forced his tongue inside your mouth, swallowing your moans.

His hand grabbed your neck while he emptied himself inside you, his body shaking before collapsing on top of you.

None of you said anything. You didn't dare. Because once you speak then nothing’s gonna feel real anymore.

—

“Good morning, my love”

Your fiancé greeted, setting the tray of food on the nightstand. He,like always, prepared breakfast for you. It was a habit of his, to spoil his favorite person whenever he had a day off.

You smiled lazily, shifting under the blanket, your inner thighs uncomfortably drenched.

Oh, you felt awful. Fantasizing about your ex boyfriend who you haven't seen for years. Dreaming about the times when he made each night memorable for you two.

“Thank you. I love you” You whispered, fully convinced of your words.

He kissed you on the forehead and left the room but not before he mumbled an ‘i love you’ to you.

—

(flashback)

The ocean memory was the last one you had with him. That night when you got naked and let the water gently wash your skin.

Eren buried his face into your wet hair while you silently cried in his chest. He hated that you were hurting, that your relationship was hurting.

Seeing you helpless and yet still hopeful that everything will be ok. You must still have a chance. It can't be over now.

“I just want to enjoy this sight of you for the last time” He said to you. Heartbroken over your leave.

The two of you were young, so young. Why were your souls forced to break apart from each other? When they desperately tried to cling to one another.

“Don't say that”

He scoffed, trailing his hand down your back. Eren led you out of the water and on the blanket that was spread on the cooling sand.

If this was the last time he'll see you–it might as well be spent right.

He took you there. Locking your arms behind your back, his lips biting your shoulder.

The hour was late and the beach was absent of any presence other than yours.

“Ah-Eren” You whispered, feeling his dick rub against your g spot.

He sneaked a hand down, rubbing your clit in fast circles, your ass pushing against him further “My needy girl”

Eren moaned, his hips picking up the pace, chasing his release. He forced your body up, the new angle reaching deeper into your sweet cunt.

Your back was pressed against his front, a hand forcing your head up. Eren pushed his thumb past your lips, your lips parting. He was so close and yet so far. You needed his body engraved on yours.

“Eren-llove you” You cried, the pleasure becoming too much. You started to tremble and Eren immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you stil.

“I know, baby. I know. I love you too”

Fuck, don't leave…

Please don't fucking leave me

—

Looking back, you wouldn't have left. The sorrow on his face proved how wrong the decision to move away was.

Years later and you still pay the price. The constant thoughts about him, the dreams, the little things and objects you see transporting you to a time you wished you had buried.

The decision to break away from him came back to prey on your weak soul. ‘Blessing’ you with a life of dread, with fake promises of love and all to artificial smiles.

And now, nights like this have stirred a sense of comfort in you. While you scrolled through his Instagram pictures, seeing him following his dreams, following freedom–while you were still a prisoner of a perfectly dictated life, just what you'd wished.

#fanfic #x reader #anime #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren jaeger #aot smut #eren smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren aot