#why do I get inspired when I should be sleeping
Text
—SAD TO BREATHE (THE AIR WHEN YOU'RE NOT THERE).
pairing: aitana bonmatí x uswnt!reader
synopsis: aitana leaves for the international break and you become a mopey little shit.
word count: 1.1k
a/n: something short and sweet to get me back into the writing groove. the final inspired me this. and yk what this was nice, writing fluff ... is nice (sometimes).
It was embarrassing, really, the way you moped.
Unapologetically, you pouted and rolled around on the couch, convulsing and whining the way a child would beg for more candy. You would be convulsing and whining standing up if you weren’t so hung over from all the alcohol and clubbing you had done the past two days (most of which was justified, most of it).
“Do you have to go?” You knew the answer to that. In your mind, you looked very convincing. You’d hoped Aitana would notice and take pity on you and spare you a glance amidst her running around the house to pack.
“Amor, I’ll be back in two weeks.” Then she switched to Catalan. “[Plus you’re going soon too anyway.]”
It was true that the USWNT camp would assemble tomorrow, but that was one more day you would have liked to spend with Aitana after all the chaos of the Champions League weekend. The whirlwind of Barcelona’s victory has left little time for you to be alone with her. As soon as the match was over, the celebrations began, and Carla and the media team deemed that most of it should be on record. You wanted to be with your girlfriend so badly, but with Aitana dutifully attending to Carla’s every PR need, you were left pouting and giving her sad puppy eyes long before this morning.
“But-but—” you groaned as another wave of the pounding headache hit you, and you lay back down on the cushions.
“You see, this is why you shouldn’t drink so much.” She said, standing in front of you for a second to check that you weren’t going to vomit everywhere on the new couch.
“I’m sleepy. Come cuddle, please.”
You watched her stuff another pair of pants into the suitcase that lay open in the middle of the living room. “I didn’t ask you to get up with me.” She didn’t look amused. Somehow, it spurred you on even more, to know that she was having none of your shit but still engaged.
“But I always notice when you’re not in bed with me,” you whined again. “Can’t sleep after that.”
Aitana shook her head, barely acknowledging your predicament, scanning her suitcase, then went back upstairs.
With Herculean willpower, you stood up and followed her up the stairs. You stopped at the door of your shared bedroom, watching her collect her things from the en-suite bathroom.
“It’s just, I’m gonna miss you,” you said pathetically, “a lot.”
You didn’t know why, but this particular stint between this upcoming international break and the last felt much longer than others. It might have had something to do with the many things that happened during it—the many trophies that, looking back, you thought the team must have been running on crack to have won all of them whilst keeping yourselves fit and sane. In the middle of all that, you had Aitana, and she had you. The spotlight wasn’t easy, but it was alright because you both had each other to return to at the end of the night.
Finally, your pout must have worked because Aitana set her toiletry bag down on the counter when she met your eyes in the mirror. “Oh, amor. Why are you acting like a child?”
You didn’t care that you were; you just wanted your girlfriend to hold you before duties take her away.
Resting your head on her shoulder, you let out a sigh of desperation when she put her arms around your waist.
“I’m gonna die here, all alone, all by myself, and you don’t even care.”
“You’re not going to die, Y/N,” Aitana scoffed, but she held you closer. “[I’m sorry we didn’t spend much time together after the match]. Winning is exhausting, sí?”
You blew a raspberry. “Can’t wait for this season to be over.”
“No, you don’t, because then it means we’re going to the Olympics.”
You groaned, and plopped yourself onto the bed. “I don’t like playing against you.”
Aitana giggled, the sound floating like music in your ears. “Why? Scared you’ll lose?”
“Excuse you!” You put your hands on your hips. “I’m calling it, you guys versus us in the final. Better start practicing those free kicks.” You grinned and pulled her close, bumping your nose against her stomach.
“We’ll see.” When she leaned down to kiss you, you were ready and puckered your lips, but Aitana had the audacity to evade you and pecked your forehead instead.
She grabbed your chin and finally bestowed on your lips the kiss that you had been yearning for.
It’s not ever easy to let down your defenses, but with Aitana it felt so easy to do so. You never thought you’d ever be this lucky, certainly not two years ago, when you first transferred to Barcelona and Aitana started consuming your every thought. From the moment you laid eyes upon that beautiful smile and her unstinting kindness, you knew you were gone.
The memory of your first meeting lingered in your mind as your girlfriend dragged her suitcase towards the front door.
“I’ll call you when I get to camp,” she said.
“You promise?”
“Yes, promise. Now come here.” Her hands found yours and tugged you forward as you grinned. How could you not smile when her face was so close to yours? “I love you.”
You cupped her face and kissed her softly. “T’estimo.”
“Don’t be too sad, okay? It will go by quickly.” At least she pitied you enough to reassure you.
As you watched her get into her Uber, you could only wish she was right.
Aitana kept her promise and FaceTimed you once she had settled at camp a few hours later. The conversation didn’t last long, as she had to go quickly after that.
“I’m sorry,” you remembered saying.
“For what, my love?”
“For being clingy,” you laughed and shrugged. “I don’t know . . .”
It was a surprise, then, after you had packed your things for your early flight back to the States that night, that she called you again before you went to bed.
“Babe, is everything alright?” You had feared the worst when she texted you.
Are you still awake? Can we talk?
Super cryptic.
“Yes, everything is good.” After a quick pause, she said, “I couldn’t sleep. I miss you.”
A large grin crept onto your lips. “Well well well, how the tables have turned.”
As you heard a groan on the other side of the phone, you laughed, and thanked your lucky star above that you had someone like Aitana to look forward to coming home to.
#aitana bonmati x reader#aitana bonmatí x reader#aitana bonmatí#aitana bonmatí imagines#aitana bonmati imagine#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni#woso fanfics#woso x reader#aitana bonmati
400 notes
·
View notes
Text
Inspired by the idea of that one post I did where Tucker downloaded DDLC, fell in love with Monika and then gave her a body. Which is set in the DC universe because why naught lmao.
"I'll bring you back to me..." Monika whispered to the figure on the other side of the glass her hand was pressed against. A soft smile on her face as she looked upon the peacefully 'sleeping' figure that floated inside of the tank.
Tucker, 'asleep' in a tank flowing with ectoplasm that kept his body perfectly preserved and even helped it 'heal' somewhat when Monika wasn't taking him out to run a proper check on his injuries. Eyes softly closed and curled into a ball.
He looked at peace.
Recent magical examinations showed that due to his... circumstances, he was much more akin to something like Danny or Vlad's existence than he was human. Yet, unfortunately, he wasn't quite what they were either.
Maybe if he was, she wouldn't need to do what she has.
Monika sighed and took her hand back, swiftly turning around and walking away. She flicked her hand as she did so, summoning various screens that held various reports over select strands of both magical and scientific experiments.
'Tucker would have loved to see this.' The thought brought a small smile to her lips that swiftly turned to a frown when she remembered the reason behind these experiments. 'No matter,' She thought. 'I'll show him when I bring him back.'
She sought out a specific screen, narrowing her eyes when she realized there was a complication one of her more hopeful tests.
She would have to go resolve it personally, it seemed.
The thought of leaving her beloved alone for even a moment stifling but! If all went well then, he would reawaken! Any amount of discomfort on her end was nothing in the face of a such a joyous occasion.
If all went well, everything would be back to how they should be!
===
She should have known better than to think things were going to go well for her.
The complication that required her personal attention was solved, though it took some time, and bore fruit that, while not able to help tremendously, was enough to speed up her progress by a moderate amount.
One good thing made way for another bad thing.
Perhaps being around the Fenton family caused their luck to rub off on her.
When she returned her beloved's body was no longer where it was. Which should have been impossible, no one should have been able to get in or out without her explicate permission. And indeed, whatever happened didn't have her permission.
They forced their way inside.
Her systems were a mess. Some shut down, some dealing with viruses and some even fading from her rights completely. Which were then promptly disposed of.
Her beloved was stolen, right beneath her nose. Plucked out of the safety she surrounded him with when it came time for him to reawaken.
Monika was not angry.
No. No.
What was flowing throughout her artificial body was something much, much more potent than rage. Fueled by despair and hope that crashed down around her.
Monika was not angry.
What she was feeling, if she were to put it more accurately, would be the sin that humans had come to known as Wrath.
War bless her.
Fear aid her.
Time preserve her.
She had a thief to catch.
===
In a city blessed with endless sun and protection of a god amongst men. A body opened its eyes.
'Monika.' Was its first thought.
'It stinks.' Was its second.
It stood up on awkward legs, bringing its hands to its head and turning the proper way with a loud and cringeworthy crack. It placed a hand to its chest next, feeling the slow beating of a heart that was easily viewable from the patch of see-through muscle that wasn't covered by any skin.
It looked at itself. It's very naked self and narrowed its eyes when it finally found a memory.
'Clothes.' Was its-no, his third thought.
And so, it started moving.
===
Lex Luthor was having a hard time not throwing something at one of the dolts who had lost a precious specimen he spent countless amounts of resources in order to get.
To curb his anger and not face a potential lawsuit, that was a headache he didn't care for.
He settled for firing all of them instead.
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soft as Cotton
Pairing - Bob Taylor x Neutral!Reader
Summary - After a nightmare shakes you up, Bob finds the perfect remedy.
Word Count - 795
Warnings - reader suffers from nightmares, comfort, fluff
A/N - inspired by this post from @upstartgeek (wrote this while doing laundry)
The sun would soon rise up over the hill.
It’ll creep over the dewy morning grass, first awaking the insects. The squirrels, and other critters would soon come out, eager for the day ahead. It was said to be perfect weather this afternoon, a breezy 75°F with a clear azure sky.
For now though, darkness engulfed your shared bedroom like a blanket. You sat at the edge of the bed, gripping onto the bedding. The shadowy corners only grew deeper the longer you stared at them. You imagined black inky hands reaching out, dripping with tar. Coming up over the duvet, to crawl over your body. Their long fingers dancing over your flesh, dipping into the curves and arches covered by your sleepwear.
You shut your eyes, grinding down on your teeth. The drumming of your heart deafened the sound of Bob rustling behind you. The bed creaked, as he stuck his arm out and patted at the vacant spot you once occupied. You looked over your shoulder, Bob’s sleepy eyes blinked, straining to see the outline of your figure.
“You’re awake.” He mumbled, his words coming out slurred and heavy.
“Sorry” You cleared your throat, turning now to face him. “I woke up, and couldn’t fall back to sleep.”
He silently nodded, rubbing his eyes. You could see him weigh something on his tongue, a frequent question he already knew the answer to.
“Nightmare?” He quietly asked.
You hummed, staring down at your hands. This was an ongoing problem, for most of your life. Something you had learned to live with, of course seeking help along the way. Some weeks it was fine, almost as if the problem wasn’t there at all. Then there were times when it threatened to smother you, like an overbearing mother.
Bob slowly rose up from the bed, shuffling across the room to the double closet doors. You quietly watched him, pressing your hands together to stop them from shaking. He opened the left side of the closet, sluggishly searching through the stacked plastic drawers that divided your clothes.
“Honey, what are you doing?” You said, squinting at him. He ignored you, seemingly determined to find whatever he was looking for.
This went on for a moment, you watching him repeatedly open and close drawers. The only sounds invading the room were now his quiet murmurs and the neighbors dog barking across the street. He made a noise in the back of his throat, as he finally stepped back from the closet.
Bob approached you, eyes wide awake. He perched on the bed beside you, clutching onto a pink object in his hands.
“Uh.” He stuttered, looking down. “This should help, maybe.”
Bob reached out, placing the item in your lap. You picked it up, running your hand over the plush fabric. It was a stuffed animal, in the shape of a plump pink elephant. The toy was bigger than your hands, and soft to the touch. It smelled of lavender, the floral scent comforting the buzz inside your chest. You brushed your thumb over one of its black button eyes, the cool plastic relieving your warm skin.
“When did you get this?” You asked, looking up at him.
“I just saw it one day.” He explained, shying away from your gaze. “Was shopping, and it was in the window. It um- it was soft and felt nice, s-so I got it.”
You smiled to yourself at the explanation. It did feel nice, now that it was in your hands. Your fingers sunk into the fuzzy fabric, squeezing the stuffing.
“I don’t remember the last time I even held one.” You muttered, turning it over. Childhood felt so long ago, and you were never one to reminisce on it. Still, something tugged at the strings of your heart the longer you stared at the plush toy. It threatened to split you open.
Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you couldn’t fathom as to why.
“I have a frog one too.” Bob mentioned.
You pulled your gaze away from the elephant to glance up at him.
“Is it also pink?”
He shook his head, chucking to himself. “No, no it’s just green.”
“Do you want to-
He was already heading towards the closet doors before you could finish.
You held the elephant against your chest, nails curling into the toy as if it might disappear. The morning sun was beginning to peek through your window, dawn finally breaking over the fence.
Sleep had escaped you tonight, and you would be left to carry your dead weight around for the remainder of the day.
The sweet lavender scent wafted into your nose, soothing the erratic thumping of your heartbeat.
But at least for now, the nightmares were gone.
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
Gem Au where everyone is a Gem except Reader, who is a Half-Gem like Steven.
Maybe they were friends with Reader's human or gem parent, maybe they found them in a dumpster, maybe one of them is Reader's parent (if the human parent was the one who gave birth) .
However they got them, they now have a little baby that they love with everything they are. Even if they don't exactly get why their fragile meat child needs to eat or sleep or why they cant walk and talk as a newborn, they will be their every step of the way.
Or
Maybe Reader is already grown up when they finally meet. Reader knows they're half-Gem but doesn't know anything about that because they were raised by humans, so they continue doing their normal human life of going to work, paying the bills, and doing all of their normal human thing
Meanwhile all the Yans are just horrified because Reader is so FRAGILE, humans can die to almost anything but Reader keeps doing things! And they have so little experience 20 years is nothing to a Gem lifespan. Even the newer Gems like Kurt and Kitty are centuries older than them so Reader clearly needs protection! (Not really, all the yans have done is invaded their house and added the extra responsibility of teaching them Earth and human things)
Hahaha! Okay! Let's mash those two ideas together, @sugar-soda!
Reader is a half human/half gem who is about, say, 16 or 17. They're old enough to know basic safety, how to cook easy meals, how to clean, and has survived mostly with a little help from their human parent. Then they passed away, and Reader ends up in an abandoned gem temple they turn into a home. They add an old couch, whatever blankets they can find or buy, and a fridge that miraculously works. They earn their keep by setting up a market stall to sell odd knick-knacks and rocks and random old gem artifacts in the temple...
Then one day, they meet a few of the platonic yam X-Men gems, who, when Reader sees them, realizes they are not human, while the gems believe Reader is one of them (or a poor, possible force-fused one). They struggle to understand the concept of birth amd parents and death, only for Reader to walk them through it. Slowly, Reader becomes friends with them (or at least the youngest gems) (the teens).
The gems try to be careful with Reader, remembering that humans are rather fragile, squishy, easy to die beings who need constant food and water, each and every day. They ask, almost jokingly, how old Reader is, guessing maybe a few centuries, rather young... And Reader drops on them that they're only 16 or 17... To say the gems are horrified is an understatement.
This poor, defenseless, court-less, Dimaond-less gem, was without any other gems, and has no idea of their society, their culture, or that they even were a gem?! And were essential a GEMLING?! A GEODE?!
Oh no. NononNonONO! They are coming with them back to their mighty, safe, secure, beautiful Homeworld, free from these death traps they call a planet, and are going to learn how to be a gem! They can't leave them like this! They're so new, so naive, they can't even think of themself as a gem-! How could they leave them there to suffer?!
Reader insists they are fine in Earth, and have to block the entrances to the temple so the platonic yans don't break in or catch them while they're asleep. Attempts are certainly made. Until finally, one late night/early morning, Reader goes out, ends up knocked out, and is forcefully adopted by the platonic yans and taken aboard a hand ship or other gem spacecraft, and are held somewhere to be inspected and slowly "unconditioned"...
(Ask questions for this AU, please! And @sugar-soda, surprise, you have helped inspire/make an AU! Now, I need to figure out what gem Reader should be... Does anyone have any suggestions or ideas? I'm open to a few...)
#honeycomb thoughts#platonic yandere marvel#yandere platonic marvel#platonic yandere xmen#yandere x-men#platonic yandere marvel x reader#platonic yandere xmen evolution#platonic yandere xmen evolution au#🪨Gem in the Rough💎 AU
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
—
#random rambles#Technically I'm done with this month's header since yesterday.#Practically I've been feeling so insecure about it I've been procrastinating looking for an icon or uploading it at all#Like it *was* natural to have a downgrade in themes I've said it myself a lot of times. After 24+ themes it's understandable I'd run out–#of inspiration (or even simply material) for the very cool stuff#That said. I did very much spend the whole entire day from when I woke up to when I (started studying at past 2am) went to sleep on it#That's what I get for working with the anime tbh. Bones artstyle is ugly there's little to be done about it#While making it I also came up with other two themes concepts.#One is probably going to replace September's plan and the other idk will probably slid to the next year#Idk looking at this year's planned themes lineup it all feels full of things I'm not skilled enough to make...#On top of everything this February's theme wasn't even what I had initially planned!! The one I had initially planned was a chapter 33 pane#Idk why I didn't follow up with it. Maybe I've just grown to think manga panels are too simple (terrible choice) (rip)#I think the thing that bugs me with both the initially picked image and the anime header I made yesterday–#is that there's no smooth transition with the blog. And I know it's not a big deal but pretty much all my themes do and it's bothering me..#And it shouldn't. Like nearly everyone uses an header that is sharply separate from the blog and they make it work#Uhm..............#Idk I should be studying besides.#I think I'll either go looking for an icon and see how the overall theme looks on the blog. Maybe I'll like it better then.#Or I'll just start over and see if I can use the ch 33 panel I had in mind and see if I'll like THAT better#It'd just be a shame if after all the time I've spent on it yesterday I'd just let it lie unused on my computer#There's also the fact that black and white of the manga doesn't feel very February-esque... (Don't ask)#Ugh. I hate looking for icons it's always the worst part 😭😭😭#I was considering the last Beast Atsushi illustration (because ofc I was) but idk. Idk if I can make it work.#And part of me is also like “don't use beautiful Hoshikawa Beast Atsushi on an ugly theme” LOL#But I also suffer heavily from the lack of Beast in this year's lineup.#Okay rant over. Shutting up now#Edit: If this month's theme is ugly please be kind#Edit 2: Jk I've found like four icons. Maybe I'm just very dramatic
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
me: right, this chapter is going to be a sensible length for once
also me: writes 10,000 words in three days
#i hope no one minds long chapters#because i swear they get worse each time#i’m not even finished with this one yet and it’s already as long as the last#this fic is just well and truly sucking me into its little world and it’s getting harder to climb out of it#which i really need to do right not so i can go the fuck to sleep#why does inspiration always hit the hardest at times where i should be asleep?? 😭#i say this like i’m complaining when actually i’m having the best time#i just know i won’t be having the best time when i’m trying to get up at a sensible hour for my scary work meeting tomorrow#four walls#lulu posts
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
legit wondering if when I start going to the doc for all my physical shit I should ask abt who I should see abt maybe getting mood stabilizers
i'm sick of this unending cycle of getting eight million ideas and scrambling from one to the next before burning myself out on all of them and falling into a depression and hating myself for not doing any of the eight million things I was excited about
#i am losing my fucking mind here i cant fucking take it anymore#i dont think im bipolar i just think the adhd takes the wheel and fucking floors it#i dont have delusions of grandeur (not more than a flight of fancy that i know is unrealistic anyway) or like. euphoria.#i also dont not remember stuff from from those surges of inspiration#i mean i might forget something but thats bc i got distracted and my brain dumped it to focus on New Shiny Thing#this is the equivalent of my 2AM mental breakdown so bear with me here i am Going Through It when i should be sleeping#also it feels like theres shit crawling on me and there isnt but i cant sleep bc i am ITCHY WHY AM I ITCHY WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE THIS#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#fun fact: the sensation of shit crawling on you is called formication#which is really fucking funny#like i understand its from formica meaning ant but it is literally one letter away from fornication#anyway doing my usual webmd doom spiral and guess what gets formication as a symptom sometimes: bipolar disorder#im gonna laugh if i get a bipolar dx but it doesnt seem right#all the other options were autoimmune disorders like parkinson's and MS and fibro and RA#which. i might actually have rheumatoid arthritis. but the others? theyre scary. i dont wanna deal with that.#i dont even wanna deal with RA lets be real#farmer voice: i was just fine before i went to the doctor and now all of a sudden ive got an immune disorder#wait i dont think parkinson's is an autoimmune disorder thats a neurological condition#ok carry on#more fun facts since i am now down a wikipedia rabbit hole to distract myself from my itchy self#the process of ur limb falling asleep and going numb is called obdormition#then when the feeling starts coming back the pins and needles feeling is paresthesia#formication is an uncommon kind of paresthesia#obdormition is our funny word of the day and i look forward to telling someone about it randomly or for it to show up in a crossword soon#bc u know how u find something new and suddenly it's everywhere?#yeah. i get the feeling thats gonna happen here.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
already posted one fic to ao3 today but might fuck around and post another in another fandom just to keep things spicy
#d speaks#it’s an atla fic that’s literally complete#like i struggled w the ending which is why i put it down when i wrote it in may but it was like. a fairly easy fix actually#and i think im happy with it enough to post it which is fun !!!!#idk might wait until tmw to do so because i don’t feel like tagging and all that rn but#very proud of myself it’s been a productive day in terms of writing#mayhaps tmw if the babies nap at the same time i’ll even get up another chapter of my billy eddie fic#OR finish that one one shot i have 90% done and haven’t touched in two months#i’m working 7-7 tmw i’m probably being ambitious here and really should go to sleep but idk. feelin inspired n shit#also when i post this i will have fics for THREE different fandoms on ao3 which is just so fun!!!! i love that for me!!!!!!#can u believe i didn’t even take my adderall today either?!?!?!?!????????#insane truly#anyways. i need to go to sleep it’s 11p and i need to be up at 5 but idk i’m just. very excited rn!!!
1 note
·
View note
Note
angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader
and then they make up yayayayay
Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…
Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!
You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.
“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”
He nods.
“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He nods again.
“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”
“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”
“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.
“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”
He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…
“But Mig-”
“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”
He didn’t mean it like that.
“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.
“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.
You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.
You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.
The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.
How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?
This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.
And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.
You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.
You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.
“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.
“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.
“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.
“Yeah.” You huff.
“And… how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.
You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”
Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?
“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”
“Talk about romantic.”
“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”
“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”
“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.
“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”
“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.
“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”
“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.
You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”
“Bed.”
“(Y/n)-”
“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”
“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.
“You heard me.”
“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.
“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”
“(Y/n)-”
“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”
“I know.”
“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”
You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”
“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.
“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”
He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.
“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”
“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.
“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”
“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.
“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”
You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#angst#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara#spider man x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman x you#spiderman 2099#spiderman x y/n#spider man across the spider verse#spider man 2099#spiderverse#spider man x y/n#spider man x you#spiderman x reader
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
give me a kiss (or three) // lando norris
summary: matching clothes shouldn't turn lando on this much.
pairing: lando norris x female reader
warnings: smut, the worst description I have ever written, it’s a lil bit cringe. lando has a nickname for his dick, and a box of flavoured condoms in his bedside drawer. lowkey inspired by an audio posted by the wonderful @2-fast-2-curious. (I took a lot of creative liberties and added a ton of things, but the base idea is still there), there's more laughter than sex in here my dudes-
seeing lando norris wrapped up in the soft pink bedspread should not have warmed her heart the way that it did.
she had slipped out of the bed and ducked across the hallway to use the bathroom, and when she came back, her chest seized at the sight of her lover, his arms wrapped around the massive section of duvet that she was previously buried under.
she never thought she'd see the day, and she never thought she could feel this way about someone who felt the same way back.
she slowly began to dress, careful not to make any noise in the small bedroom. not only would she prefer not to wake her roommates, lando himself was a light sleeper and he needed to be well rested before they went to visit her parents that afternoon.
"sweetheart?" lando mumbled, messy-haired and groggy as he began to surface from underneath the duvet. "its so early, what are you doing awake?"
"i have to run to tescos, and then i have boxing at ten." she smiled softly, tightening the strap on her lacy bralette. "i wanted to let you sleep in. you'll need all your energy for the drive later."
lando snorted, sitting up straight, his curls matted by sleep and sticking to his skin. "there's no way you're wearing a bra that nice to your boxing class."
"i'll change when i get there." she chuckled, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.
the blankets shifted with the movement, falling away from lando's thighs to where his royal blue boxers hugged his skin. the man looked down, and then over to the matching set his girlfriend was wearing before he let out a laugh.
"what's so funny?"
"your bra matches my underwear." lando snickered. "we match. a perfect pair."
she couldn't help but join in with her lovers laughter and mirth, looping her arm's around his neck with a chortle. his skin was warmed against hers, which had rapidly cooled since she had emerged from her blanket huddle and into the winter air that filled her home.
"you're so cringe." she giggled, standing between his legs, the slight shade of difference between their underclothes making her smile.
he was right. they were almost a perfect pair.
"cringe? you think i'm cringe?" lando feigned hurt, squeezing her sides playfully. he kissed her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip as his hands roamed her lower body.
the kiss was passionate, yet playful, smiles evident on both of their faces (even when lando slipped his tongue into her mouth, earning a surprised shout).
"not as cringe as the time-" she stopped midsentence, whining as lando ran his tongue along the sweet spot on her neck before diving back in to kiss her. "you wore the monoply boxers."
"i thought 'wanna go to jail" was a great line!"
"yeah, for a fifteen year old boy!"
"it still worked, didn't it?" lando laughed, grabbing at her thighs to roll them over.
the duvet was soft and pillowy around her, bunched up just enoough around her that it narrowed her field of vision. all that existed in that moment was her and lando.
just the way she liked it. she loved it when they were silly like this, playful and sexy at the same time. an experience that felt so uniquely like the two of them and their love, and ensured that they never got tired of being intimate with each other.
"am i still cringe when i've got your wrists pinned to the bed?" lando smirked, his body a comfortable weight against hers, her wrists cradled against the goose down.
"i dunno." she smiled arching upwards to press her lips against his. "why don't we find out?"
lando grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "i like the way you think, but don't you have to go to boxing?"
"they won't miss me. i'm there three times a week as it is." she smiled, snaking one bare leg around his.
lando's touch was as familiar as her afternoon stretching routine. every brush of his fingertips against her skin made her feel powerful, like she could do anything. his lips were comfortable and warm against hers, yet new and exciting every time. lando's grip on her wrists let up, and she buried her fingers in his curls, tugging softly.
"fuck, babe. i love it when you do that." he moaned, lips dancing over the material of her bralette, tonguing at her peaked nipples.
"i know." she hummed, breath hitching. "oh, i love it when you do that."
"that's my girl." lando hummed, reverence in his eyes and a serene expression on his face as he continued to kiss across her collarbone, throughout the valley between her breasts. "you want my fingers, baby? want me to make you feel good?"
“please.” she keened, arching into him.
landos calloused fingers danced across her thigh, over the cluster of freckles that used to make her feel so insecure but he so dearly loved, reaching for the damp spot on her panties. his touch was feather light, running up and down her slit, barely applying any pressure at all.
“lando.” she breathed, making a show of spreading her legs wider for him.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” he hummed, tugging her panties to the side before dipping two fingers in with a moan. “all this for me? you’re so wet, love.”
“only for you.” she moaned, breath hitching as she dug her fingernails into landos shoulder blades, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat off her neck. “oh, baby.”
“such a good girl for me, taking my fingers so well.” he praised, using his free hand to guide her face towards his.
lando kissed her deeply, her hands moving to clutch his hair as his fingers fucked her deeper. every inch of her body was on fire with desire, pleasure pooling in her stomach, her lovers hard cock pressing against her stomach while he finger-fucked her to high heaven.
“oh my god, lando, fuck, I think I’m gonna-“
she didn’t have time to finish that thought before lando pulled his fingers out abruptly, making a show out of licking them off as she whined impatiently at her ruined orgasm.
“what the fuck, dude!”
lando just laughed, kissing her forehead. “payback, sweetheart. you called me cringe, so you don’t get to come.”
“fuck you.”
“I beleive you’re trying to.”
the room went awkwardly silent, so much so that you could hear a pin drop. and then, all at once, they both burst out laughing. the kind of laughter that makes your eyes water, your stomach start to hurt. Lando was laughing so hard that he dropped back onto the bed, bare chest heaving as he looked up at the ceiling.
“why the fuck did I say that?” he cackled.
“I don’t know!” she laughed back. “if it helps, I thought it was cute, and it really made me want to suck your dick.”
“yes, actually. that does help.” landos eyes brightened as she shifted his position, sliding his boxers down his legs. “little lando has missed your pretty face.”
“little lando? god I hate that you have a nickname for your penis.”
“we’ll, if you’re going to insult him like that-“
“shut up.” she breathed, kissing him with a smile. “do we have any of those flavoured condoms left?”
lando grinned. “watermelon or fruit punch?”
she slipped off the bed, foot tangling with the flat sheet as she crouched in front of the bedside table, digging through the drawer for the small red box, searching for the elusive fruit punch condom.
she had never been a fan of giving head. there was something about it that had always just icked her out, but lando made her want to try. she wanted to expand her horizons with him, not for him. it took a lot of trial and error, but they found a way: flavoured condoms. this way, it was more enjoyable for her as well as him. it was akin to a warm ice lolly, rather than a body part.
she deftly ripped the packaging open, sliding the rubber shield onto landos cock. she positioned herself between his legs, taking a few deep breaths before taking his cock in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and running her tongue up and down the shaft.
“oh my god!” lando moaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips. getting blown was always a treat for him, considering that y/n didn’t enjoy it all the time, finding it more stressful than it was worth. but every time she did it, he was reminded just how incredible she was at it.
it was a treat, one that he would savour until the end of time.
he bit his lip to stifle a moan, dropping his hand to the back of her head. he was big in her mouth, weighty against her tongue. she closed her eyes, sucking gently.
“god, you’re so perfect.” lando whined, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb on the side of her head. “taking me like such a good girl.”
she opened her eyes, chancing a look at the love of her life. she moaned at the sight of his rippling abs, body contorted in pleasure.
all because of her. she did that.
“fucking hell, honey. I think I’m gonna blow.”
lando came with a howl, hips stuttering as he came inside the condom sheath. she slipped off his cock quickly, leaving a trail of saliva behind as she made her way up his body to press a soft kiss to landos lips. using a handful of tissues, he slipped the condom off, balling it up and tossing it in the wastebasket. his breathing was heavy, but he was raring to go for more.
“sit on my cock, babe. ride me, please. I need it.”
she smiled, kissing him again. “now who’s the needy one?”
“shut up. do you want to come on my dick or not?” he joked, tickling her sides.
she playfully pushed him against the headboard before rooting around for another condom (a normal one, this time). she pressed the foil packet into lando's hand before getting to her feet and sliding off her soaked panties. she moved to take off her bra as well, but lando grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"keep it on, gorgeous."
and how could she argue when he was giving her puppy dog eyes?
she sunk down slowly, dramatically playing up her actions with some hair-fluffing and boob-primping. lando laughed underneath her, the sound distracting her from the sting as he stretched her out with his cock.
she shifted slowly at first, moving her hips in slow, torturous circles, biting her lip to stop a moan. her lover groaned, looking up at her with lust and reverence in his eyes.
"comfy?" he quipped, hands gently moving to grip her backside.
"very." she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
lando wasted no time in guiding her movements, lifting her up and down on his cock like it was no effort at all. her fingernails dug into his shoulders, small pants coming out in quick breaths as she bounced on his length.
"oh my god, lando." she whined. "you feel so good. so good, baby."
"that's my girl." lando hummed, dotting kisses along her collarbone, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her ass. "only i get to see you like this, make you feel this good." he growled "and you're doing so so well for me, love."
if lando were to explain what having sex with his girlfriend was like in two words, he'd probably say coming home. she was his safe haven. they fit together like a glove, always seemed to know what the other needed without saying a word. and if they spent more time laughing than actually having sex, or fi their sex was goofier than it was seductive? that didn't matter to him. all that mattered was that they spent that time together.
just two people in love, showing the other just how much.
every bit of praise made her skin break out in goosebumps. she could feel herself dripping onto lando's thighs, but she didn't care. she just wanted to be close to him. as close as physically possible. she arched inwards, leaning against his chest for support as lando stopped moving her hips, instead thrusting his up rapidly to meet hers, a strangled moan escaping her throat.
"that's it, princess. you don't need to do any of the work. lando's got you." he cooed, pressing kisses to her sweaty forehead, whispering words of praise in between moans and grunts. animalistic sounds that just turned her on even more, pleasure reverberating throughout her body.
her slender fingers came up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently. lando moaned softly, angelically, his head tilted backwards and his eyes closed. it was a heavenly sight as he leaned down to sew her lips to his, walls beginning to contract against his cock.
"fuck, lando, go faster. i'm so close, baby." she whined, feeling him pick up the pace, hugging her body closer. she matched his movements, circling her hips and reaching a hand towards her clit.
"you coming, baby? you gonna come all over my thick, hard dick?" lando crooned. "touching yourself for me? getting yourself off on my cock."
"lando, please." she breathed, fingers rapidly moving against her swollen bud. she could feel herself getting closer, the band in her stomach getting tighter. "make me come."
he kissed her hard, thrusting deeper, the room echoing with the sounds of his skin slapping against hers, his guttural moans as his head fell back against the pillows. she could feel him release into the condom, his dick shuddering inside her, the latex getting warmer as it filled.
that was enough to trigger her own release, her juices pouring out of her, running down lando's shaft and dripping onto his thighs. she came with a cry of his name, bracing her hands against the headboard. her limbs felt like jelly as she tried to ease herself off him.
"easy does it." lando spoke softly, his voice raspy (as it usually was after sex), his touch gentle as he eased her down onto the bed. "remember to breathe, there's still water on the nightstand from last night. finish the glass, darling." he kissed her forehead softly before stripping himself of the condom and wiping her legs up with a handful of tissues. "come here."
she smiled, placing the now-empty ikea glass on the nightstand before curling up against him, wrapping her naked limbs over his, pulling the flat sheet over their bodies.
"this was a much better workout than boxing." she smiled, resting her head on his chest. "you're more fun than the coach is."
"i should hope so. i need to give you a reason to keep me around." lando joked, kissing her forehead. "i love you, my darling darling girl."
"i love you too, my handsome boy." she smiled, leaning up to kiss him, trailing a hand across his face as they kissed softly.
"by the way, this doesn't absolve you of driving to my mum's later. and yes, we're still going."
"god damn it! she always sends home with so much crap, i can't fit it all in the mclaren!"
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @lorarri @userlando
#lando norris x reader#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 smut#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#lando norris x you#Spotify
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
No Contact
Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k
Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort
Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.
A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3
—————————————————————
No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process.
No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None.
He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.
Hell, it might even make you worse.
It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward.
But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star.
It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?
You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did.
He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party.
He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.
But he wasn’t.
A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.
Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle.
For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.
He was the last to know.
After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.
Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup.
Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup?
You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible.
It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup.
Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing.
Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out.
He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn…
He never got to see you.
“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?
“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”
A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”
Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped.
Does that mean…?
No…
“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“
The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”
Chan was suddenly in a chair.
When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.
“It’s not forever, son.”
Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.
Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.
He gets it now.
The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly.
Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.
Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?
Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?
“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”
It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort.
You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.
It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him.
Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them.
God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.
How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?
5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift.
He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to.
Mice would get to it before you did.
His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin.
All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.
It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved.
Just like him.
It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces.
He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time.
Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.
Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of.
Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together.
There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his.
You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM.
This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return.
It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much.
Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now?
Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before.
Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago.
You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you.
To him too.
It’s the library where he first met you.
The same library Chan finds himself in front of now.
He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside.
Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working.
Absolutely not.
The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful.
There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet.
Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were.
His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves.
There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it.
On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face.
Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option.
When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head.
Your eyes met. He was a goner.
How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you.
Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.
Maybe you’re not working today?
No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere.
Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway.
He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here.
His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time.
Empty.
You-less.
If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks.
What a moment.
Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?
He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio.
Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.
“Can I help you find something?”
His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone.
Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch.
His throat immediately tightens.
There you are. You. Beautiful you.
Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger.
“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?
You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something.
Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”
No.
“Yeah.”
You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”
He knows.
“Really?”
“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin.
Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows.
You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”
Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug.
He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.
But—
“If you need anything, let me know.”
You start to walk away.
Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please.
His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!
“W-Wait!” he says quickly.
You turn around with a curious look.
“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”
He knows. You collect different translations of it.
“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”
With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics.
He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months.
You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies.
Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you.
The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day.
Y/N, please.
“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book.
Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry.
“Thank you,” he whispers back.
You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower.
From foot to foot, your weight shifts.
You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?
“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”
It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you.
You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them.
Y/N, please.
“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself.
Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck!
Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world.
Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite.
He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks.
He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow.
Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it.
He knows everything.
“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained.
You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?
“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”
Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes.
“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out.
Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments.
After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper.
“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”
Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you.
Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”
Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him.
Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in.
Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.
“Chan,” he answers softly.
“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him.
Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.
“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth.
“You too, Chan.”
And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus.
—————————————————————
A bad idea was going into the library that day.
An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going.
And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him.
And the worst part? You said yes.
So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date.
How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how.
Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings.
His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother.
“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything.
“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone.
“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous.
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”
Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth.
“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”
His jaw clenches. Now or never.
“It’s with me,” he blurts.
Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth.
“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”
He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you.
“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself.
“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused.
She’s right. What if you don’t?
“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”
Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”
—————————————————————
“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table.
Yes, you have.
“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water.
“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”
He looks back down at the old menu.
This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town.
The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late.
“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu.
He’s more nervous now than on the first date.
“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile.
A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”
It was your favorite.
“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu.
His eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“‘Cause of your allergy.”
He stops.
You stop.
He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy.
His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”
Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”
You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”
He definitely did not say something.
Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before.
The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.
You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe.
A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you.
Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks.
You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully.
“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”
He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused?
“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out.
What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you?
“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick.
Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?
“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”
He licks his lips and opens his mouth.
Your phone rings.
A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest.
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up.
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”
“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock.
A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet.
“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”
Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance.
—————————————————————
It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park.
“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”
You already have.
“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket.
“Changbin sounds like a blast.”
He was your favorite before.
“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”
And you have.
A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation.
Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it.
With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side.
You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.
“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings.
Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours.
The brightest smile stretches over your face.
God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.
He can’t help it.
He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk.
“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease.
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”
Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now.
“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”
“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”
Another laugh from you.
“Shameless flirt.”
He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you.
Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe.
It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago.
He wants to kiss you so bad.
Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?
Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop.
“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin.
Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident.
It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago.
The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features.
Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch.
His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up.
Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that.
You’re always so enchanting.
Is this a good idea?
Is kissing you the best option?
But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?
Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop.
One look into your eyes quells that anxiety.
Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside.
He can’t take it anymore.
Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.
But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach.
He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers.
It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t.
He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips.
But he is.
He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss.
How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time.
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers.
Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again.
Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose.
God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good.
His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer.
He immediately stops.
Why is your face wet?
Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression.
You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?
Your eyes open and you look at him confused.
“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?
“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.
Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears.
“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”
Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused.
Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window.
Every muscle in your face is twitching.
What’s happening?
“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob.
Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident.
Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?
Please.
Slowly, your hand falls from his.
Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on.
He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.
Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own.
“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time.
He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore.
But you do.
“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You know him.
“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”
Chan. Not Channie.
He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”
His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation.
Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs.
“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”
Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over.
The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you.
You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.
“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”
You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared.
“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”
Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming.
“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.”
How is your voice so even?
Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck.
He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him.
“I—“ he starts but you cut him off.
“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.
“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest.
More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow.
“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”
Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest.
Him. You’re talking about him.
Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying.
Nothing has ever hurt this bad.
You know him. You just don’t know it’s him.
Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”
Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it.
You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest.
That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter.
“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”
A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling.
A sob tears from his throat.
You grip his hand tighter.
“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat.
“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”
Oh, god, Y/N.
“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”
He breaks.
He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm.
He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you.
Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist.
Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.
Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out.
You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline.
Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it.
Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you.
“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”
Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms.
“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”
Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.”
Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat.
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”
Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs.
Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face.
“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”
Channie. You called him Channie.
He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair.
You’re still crying. Both of you are.
“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest.
All he can do is cry.
Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night.
The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over.
Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.
You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong.
“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.
“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”
He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently.
“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”
Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you.
"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."
His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.
The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.
It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.
But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.
The burn is soothed.
“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”
His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”
“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”
Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws.
You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it.
His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle
“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”
“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”
#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#bang chan x reader#chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#skz x y/n#bang chan#bang chan fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#bangchan fanfic#bangchan x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
"How do the monster trio act around (and eventually get with) their crush?"
☆ - Monkey D. Luffy, Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro x M! reader.
♡ - guys m'sososososo insane ab these three m'literally gunna explode | also !! jus cus reqs ar gunna be closed, doesn't mean m'won't be uploadin !! jus not takin reqs f'the time bein (❁´◡`❁)
— MONKEY D. LUFFY.
He's so clingy around you, more than he is with anyone else.
Always, always, shares his food with you. Especially if you were busy training before dinner.
He's always around you no matter what. Oh? You're trying to help Sanji cook? He's on the floor watching you. Want to go buy supplies for Nami? He's clung onto your back like a Koala. Want to sleep due to a long day? He's right there in your bed with you.
He's so dorky about it too! Wants to spend every waking moment with you but doesn't know that he has a crush on you, just always wants ta be around you!
He's so jealous without even knowing it. What are you doing hanging out with Usopp when he's right here??
"[Name]..." Luffy groaned, clinging to your back with a sad expression on his face. He had his limbs wrapped around your torso and his head between your neck. "You aren't going to talk with Usopp again, are you?"
You stop walking, staring at him through the corner of your eyes. "Yes? I thought you and Usopp were best buddies, what happened?"
Luffy groans louder, causing Nami to yell at him to shut up from her room. "Nooooo, stay here and talk with meeeeeeee!" He wraps his arms around you three times (thanks to his devil fruit) and starts to shake your body around.
"Luffy— I can't even move if you don't let go of me!"
Luffy looks at you with puppy dog eyes. "Why hang out with Usopp when I'm right here?! I should be the only one you have eyes for..." He pouts as he presses his cheek against yours.
Your body flushes. Did... did he realize what he just said?
"Luffy, you can't say things like that if you don't know what they mean..." You huff, trying not to look too deep into what he could've meant by that. Luffy says things he doesn't mean, so you don't want to get your hopes up.
That only seems to coerce Luffy into whining. "I do know what it means! I said it, dummy! Stupid!! You should be mine, not Usopp's! I'm cooler and better and bigger and amazinger and uhm, you're mine because I say so!!"
Amazinger...?
You can't help the giggle that comes out of you, trying to force yourself to calm down while Luffy shakes you repeatedly. "[Name] c'mon, you'll be mine, right? Not Usopp! Cause, he can't cook and he's a sniper!"
"What does him being a sniper have to do with anything? And besides, you can't cook either Luffy."
Luffy blanks for a split second before going back to what he was doing. "I dunno. Doesn't matter! C'monnnnn, [Name], you're bullying meeeeeeeee!"
You hold onto Luffy's arm with a laugh, pressing your cheeks together as a form of affection. "Yes, Luffy, I'll be yours."
Luffy stares at you with surprise before turning back to his usual happy-go-lucky self. "Yippie!! Now, we can do all the things boyfriends do! Like go on dates, and eat together, and sleep together, and—"
As he continues to list off all the things he thinks boyfriends do, you can't help but chuckle.
Not like you two weren't doing that before his confession.
— VINSMOKE SANJI.
(inspired by @/sanjisboyfie 's oneshot ab this tragic little adorable man !! :3)
It took so long for Sanji to realize he liked you because he's not used to being attracted to men.
Thought that every time you complimented his cooking and his heart swelled up, it was just the flu. Nothing interesting or important.
Then, he started noticing how pretty your features were when you were eating, or how embarrassed he gets whenever it's just you and him in the kitchen.
When he realizes he does like you, his mind utterly falters, because... why would you like him back?
Even though there are lingering fears in his heart, he always tries his best to please you. Even if it means blushing like a moron whenever you address him directly.
"[Name]! I uhm, made this for you since you were... hurt, during our last fight." Sanji muttered nervously, averting his eyes as he held out a plate of food. Something small and easy to digest, but a food you like.
You smile warmly as you take the plate from his hands, your fingers brushing slightly as Sanji's face flusters even more. "This looks amazing! Thanks, Sanji. Do you want to sit with me? The seas are calm tonight."
Sanji pauses as he looks at you. His cigarette is inches away from falling out of his mouth and his face dazes.
"Sanij? You okay? You can say no, I won't be mad. It's not even your shift yet and everyone needs sleep." You say with an airy smile as you turn your attention to the food.
Sanji was right (like he was most of the time when it came to you and food), after the 'Big Mom incident' you were quite injured (and hungry). Seeing all the... talking food, didn't do much to raise your appetite.
There's a soft thud right beside you, long black legs resting a safe distance away from yours. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, even if Sanji's cheeks are flushed and he's nervously playing with his thumbs.
"Wowww, this is really good Sanji!" You say happily, flashing Sanji a warm smile as you return to eating the food so gracefully given to you. Oblivious to the man beside you whose face looks so red it rivals Luffy's signature vest.
Sanji looks at you with nothing sort of affection. It's not the same as when Nami or Robin compliment him, you just saying his name is enough to make him flustered, but being this close to you alone might send him into cardiac arrest.
"[Name]...?" His voice is quiet, staring at you with expectant eyes.
You pause eating, covering your mouth, and cocking your head in confusion.
"This uhm... might be a weird question, but do you um,, l-like anybody?" He becomes more flushed with every word that comes out of his mouth.
The second you take too long to answer he starts to curse himself out for even sitting down. Everything was going so well until he opened his mouth—
"Yes, I do. What, trying to feel out if I'm single?" You tease with a light chuckle, picking up the last bit of food and holding it out expectantly. "You want some?"
Sanji can't say no to you. Even if he tries his hardest, his body will not let him say no, not to an indirect kiss; especially when you're offering. Even if you might not see it in the same light he does.
He opens his mouth and lets you place the spoon in his mouth as your eyes turn into crescents. "See? Does it taste good?"
God— Sanji feels like he's going to explode.
He nods, begging himself to calm down before his mind starts to run.
"Oh," You say suddenly, "—that was an indirect kiss, wasn't it?" You lin hum thoughtfully and place the plate beside you, letting out a soft yawn as you stretch. "You sure you don't need to—"
"I am so in love with you."
"...pardon?"
Sanji stands up immediately, his face red. "Nothing!! I'm sorry, I'm really sleepy now so I'll—"
"Sanji, what did you say?" You ask carefully, holding onto his hand to try and stop him from running away.
"It's nothing, [Name], please just let me—"
"Sanji." Your voice comes off soft, relaxing your body so you come off as gentle and not hostile. "Just say it, one more time for me, okay?"
Sanji could feel his entire body burning up just from holding hands, more so from him getting caught blurting out his feelings again. He stares at the floor of the Sunny, too ashamed to look you in the eyes. "I... I'm in love with you? I'm sorry if you don't like me back, I didn't mean it I swear!"
"Sanji, what makes you think I don't like you back? Better question, what makes you think I didn't know?" You cock your head playfully, pulling him gently so he's sitting again.
"...what?"
You chuckle. "I've heard all the other embarrassing times you've confessed your feelings, it's just that the crew was around and I didn't want to put you on the spot. I've liked you since we met on the Baratie, silly."
Sanji's eyes widen as his mouth falls agape. You've liked him... for two years?!
"Sanji...?" You move up to straddle him, your hands resting on his cheeks. "Can I... kiss you?"
Sanji nods so fast he thinks his head might fall off.
You smile, leaning forward to press your lips together. Sanji's body physically relaxes as he practically melts into you, his face redder than blood.
It takes all his willpower and the need to breathe for him to finally pull away from you. His face is flushed and his breathing is heavy, staring at you like you're the only man in the world— like you're the prettiest thing in the world.
You giggle, pressing your heart onto his chest. "I love you so much."
Zoning back into reality, he carefully places his arms around your waist. "I love you too, so so much [Name],"
— RORONOA ZORO.
Zoro isn't good at expressing his emotions, everyone knows that.
So, when he figures out he might have a romantic attraction to you, he's confused about what to do. Considers asking Nami about it, but goes with Robin since Nami is... an interesting woman!
Robin tells him to be upfront with his feelings, or subtly tell the person.
He's a naturally mature person, having a crush on his crewmate doesn't change that by any means.
Even if he is cold to everyone, if you two are alone on the deck of the Sunny, he lets you sleep with him or touch his swords.
Just having you around is enough to calm him down. Seeing as his biggest love language is quality time and you enjoy talking about the randomest things around him, it makes his heart flutter whenever you act like he's the only person in the world who you care about.
"Mhm! And did you know that otters hold hands when they're asleep?" You point to an otter in the marine life book Zoro got you during your last pit stop.
Zoro shakes his head, his arms crossed with a small, barely noticeable amused smile on his face.
"Yeah! It's so they don't drift off when they're asleep. Not sure anyone knows why, but I like to think it's because they don't want to lose each other. After all, they're social animals! Oh! They also like to cuddle a lot—"
"Kind of like me and you, no?" Zoro interrupts with a playful aura, causing your train of thought to stop, face flushing as you stare at his smug expression.
"Um, y-yes! Like... like me, and you..." Your voice progressively gets smaller under Zoro's gaze. He moves closer, causing you to move your arms back, resting on your palms. "Zoro?"
"Keep telling me about the otters, don't worry," He replies coyly, grabbing you by the waist and bringing you into his lap.
Your face flushes, stuttering over your words as you nod. Shakily grabbing the book to bring it closer. Carefully picking your words, you begin speaking again. "They might also, uhm, hold hands because they don't have very thick fur. It could be to share body heat and keep warm, since they get cold easily."
"What if I said we were otters?" Zoro asks from behind you, resting his chin on your head.
"Ah, then we'd have to hold hands when we sleep!" Quickly realizing what you said, you try to reel it back in. "O-of course, only if you want to! I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I know how much you like your personal space so—"
"You're in my personal space and it doesn't look like I mind very much, does it, [Name]?"
Twiddling your thumbs meekly, you shake your head no. Zoro laughs and takes one of your hands, putting it above his. The size difference is obvious, your fingers stop just below his second knuckle. Something about that causes a riot in your brain, especially when Zoro squeezes them together.
"Okay, another question," Zoro starts, moving the intertwined hands to your lap. "What if I asked you to be my boyfriend?"
You turn around immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. He isn't... joking, is he? Zoro doesn't normally joke about things (unless he's with Sanji), so it wouldn't make sense for him to joke about this. Especially when it's something so serious.
"Hm? What's your answer, pretty boy?"
You've liked Zoro ever since he sat down and listened to you talk about the different kinds of fishmen after the ordeal with Arlong. Zoro has never expressed romantic attraction to anybody, not even to the bountiful amounts of women who've expressed attraction to him.
Your mind blanks, and you must've been staring at him for too long because the smallest bit of worry falls on his face. "You okay? I'm not forcing you, you know? Saying no is okay."
Saying... no? To a man that looks like he was crafted by Zeus himself? Hell no! "No! I-I mean, yes, I mean—"
"Take your time pretty boy, I'm not going anywhere."
He's adjusted your position to where you're facing each other, hands still intertwined as he looks at you with a soft (?) expression. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to make eye contact with him.
You've never looked at his this close before. Sure, you two have cuddled to sleep on countless nights, but then you were always faced away from each other.
He has long eyelashes. Not extremely long, but longer than you thought they were. Even if his eyes are black, you've noticed they soften whenever he looks at you, it makes him pretty.
Meekly, you nod. Holding your head down to try and hide your embarrassment. Before you can, though, Zoro stops you by lifting your chin up with his finger. "You can use words, can't you?"
It should sound condescending, the way he's talking to you, but it sounds more encouraging than anything. Even if there might be light teases mixed with his words.
"Yes, I, I would want to be your uhm... your boyfriend."
Zoro grins at that, pressing a quick kiss on your lips and twisting you around, pulling you closer so the back of your head is between his boobs pecs. "Love you, pretty boy."
"I-I love you too, Zoro," You force out, even if it feels like you're overheating due to the blood rushing to your cheek and... other places, as well as Zoro's added body heat.
You two truly were like otters.
#writin' shit.#one piece#one piece x male reader#x male reader#male reader#zoro x male reader#luffy x male reader#sanji x male reader#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#monkey d luffy#monster trio x reader#sanji x reader#luffy x reader#zoro x reader#monster trio x male reader#one piece x reader#x reader#monkey d luffy x male reader#roronoa zoro x male reader#roronoa zoro x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#one piece fluff#straw hat pirates
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
❛MR. VAMPIRE❜ ( p. sunghoon )
p. vampireceo!sunghoon x fem!reader w. 1.5k
warnings? oral ( f. receiving ), uprotected sex, biting, mentions of blood
— 𖦹 ( finding out you're your boss is a vampire ) !
authors note. i listened to mr. vampire by itzy and i was inspired✨
“Did you hear the rumors about Mr. park?”
You perk your ears up, listening to your coworkers gossip. “which ones?” it had only been your first week at your new job, and you haven’t had the chance to meet your boss yet — but you’ve heard many things about the man.
“that’s he was a vampire.” Your other coworker laughed, standing around the table of the table in the break room. “a vampire? Come on I’ve heard everything but that’s first.” They laughed as sipped on your water. “Y/n what do you think of Mr. park?” one of them asked. “You think he’s a vampire?”
“we-well I-i don’t believe in vampires so I don’t think he's one.” You fiddled with your lanyard around your neck. “But I did hear he’s is kind of mysterious, maybe he just likes to live a quiet life — b-but I don’t know him so.” You quickly said. “I’m sure he’s great.”
“Yeah?” you heard a voice from behind you — your coworkers gasping before you turned around; the tall man stood in front of you, his skin pale — you can see where the rumor came from; even the pointy teeth; his alluring eyes — you didn’t even notice you were staring until he let out a cough. “your friends left.” You quickly grabbed your trash, throwing it away ready to leave, but he stopped you. “you’re the new employee aren’t you?” he asked. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“m-me? Y-You’ve heard a lot about me?” you pushed your glasses on your face; he smiled, eyeing your figure up and down, making you feel small. “Yeah.” You didn’t notice him getting him getting close. “Not often we get someone as sweet as you.” You were now looking up at him. “I-I’m not sure what you mean sir?”
“don’t worry, many people just said you’re hard working.” He said. “keep up the good work, okay?” you nodded, the walls feeling like they were closing in; you could barely speak, his scent was so intoxicating. “o-okay.” You managed to get out. “I’ll get back to work sir.” He nodded, you squeezed past — you swore his skin was cold to the touch when you accidentally came in touch with his hand. “have a good day sir.” You bowed walking quickly back to your seat able to breathe.
Sunghoon watched you scrambled back to your seat, your friends whispering — “what was that?” “you both looked like you needed a moment alone.” He smiled hearing your shaky voice. “I don’t know; and I must be going crazy because his hand was cold.” You said. “you don’t believe that stupid rumor?” your coworkers laughed. “of course not, it was probably all in my head, vampires aren’t real.” You said, he shook his head, walking back to his office — you could not have been more wrong.
“Hey, you going home?” you saw your coworker putting her coat on. “I have a few more things do.” You pouted. “well good night, don’t try and get home soon.” You hummed, going back to tapping at your computer.
About an hour later, you stretched letting all the tension away, checking the time — you should get home now. You grab all your things ready to; but you see that Mr. parks light is still on. Why was he still here? Most of your old bosses left early. You walked over to his door, ready to knock but the door was slightly open and he was inside, his chair turned — was he talking to someone. “sir?”
He didn’t answer you, but he wasn’t talking on the phone— so maybe he was sleep. “M-mr. park?” you open the door, walking into the room. “Are you okay?” He stood to his feet making you jump a little. “I’m fine.” He turned around — your heart dropping; his eyes red, lips red. “M-mr. park.” You stepped back ready to leave out the door in fear, but he was quicker than you. “why are you so scared?” he heard your heart beating. “yo-you’re a v-vamp” you could barely say anything. “a vampire.” He finished your sentence. “go a head, say it.”
His hand was above your head, your back pressed against the now closed door. “you’re a vampire.” You said. “I wont hurt a pretty thing like you.” He finally got a good whiff of your scent. “a special girl like you.” His hand coming down to your cup your face. “my precious mate.”
“m-mate?” you stuttered, his hand coming down, traveling from to your cheek to your neck, his nail scratching where your neck and shoulder meet. “So sweet I knew it the moment I stepped into the break room this morning.” He whispered. “S-sir, t-this is too much.” You said breathless, your legs feeling weak, his voice and the look he was giving you made a shiver run your spine, down to your core. “you feel it don’t you.” He took a deep inhale. “I can smell you darling.”
He took it upon himself to close the inch gap you placed by your hand — grabbing your wrist, kissing your lips, the metallic taste of blood on your tongue, you moaned into the kiss, he let your hand go, picking you up by your thighs, carrying over to his desk — the blood bag on his desk. “I got some much sweeter baby.” He pushed your skirt up to your waist. “so sweet baby.” He sunk down to his knees, smelling your sweet scent. “fuck baby you’re soaked.” His teeth scrapped your thighs. “s-sir.” You whined.
“sunghoon.” He kissed your clothed cunt. “say my name sweetheart.” You moaned out. “Su-sunghoon.” He smiled. “good girl.” He pulled your panties to the side. “fu-fuck you taste so good.” He dove into your cunt, licking and slurping at your folds, his tongue moving in and out of your sopping hole. “su-sunghoon, m’gonna cum.” You throw your head back. “fu-fuck!” you yelped, praying that office was empty, sunghoon couldn’t care less about that as long as he could feel you cumming on his tongue.
He pulled himself away from you, his urges taking over fully — the need to feed again creeping up on him once again — the need to mate you even stronger. “that’s okay.” You unbuttoned your shirt, revealing your pale pink bra, and you’re waiting neck — you had no idea if it would hurt or not, you were completely sure on what he even meant when he said you were his mate, but right now you wanted him in everyway — you want him to bite you.
“you don’t have to.” He said. “this must be all new to you.” you bared your neck to him, he could see your veins — the sound of your blood being pumped through your body. “I want to.”
He couldn’t fight it anymore; and he didn’t want to, you were his mate and wanted to claim it as such, he knew about the other vampires lurking around in the office and he didn’t want them to even think they had a chance. “please bite me.” Your voice sounding so sweet and so desperate — it made his cock twitch in his suit pants.
“since you’re begging for it.” He was sitting in between your legs, unbuckling his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. “but we’re gonna do it my way.” He pulled your panties down, freeing his cock from his underwear. “gonna fuck you first.” He rubbed his cock along your folds, pushing himself inside of you. “oh fuck!” you screamed as he bullied his thick cock into your tiny hole. “fuck you’re so small down there.” He cursed. “so fucking tiny.”
He began to move his hips, fucking into you.fucking into you. “you’re pussy is magic.” He groaned. “g-getting -fuck- getting addicted already. You were a moaning mess. “made for me — made for me to fuck.” He groan. “for me to breed.”
That made you made you clench around his cock. “is that what you want -shit- for me to breed you?”
You nodded. “pl-please.” You moaned. “gonna do what I wanted to do since you walked in here.” He finally bared his pointy fangs, you felt your heart speeding up. “calm down.” He slowly grinded his hips, bringing his teeth to your neck. “not gonna hurt you.” He whispered, biting down.
“sh-shit.”
You gasped feeling the blood leaving your body — his hips now moving at a brutal pace as he drained your body. “su-sunghoon.” You slurred. “g-gonna — oh fuck!” you screamed unable to speak as your mouth hung open, cumming harshly around his cock; your head feeling dizzy due to blood loss.
He finally pulled away, licking up the rest of your blood. “sh-shit m’not gonna last.” He groaned. “fuck” his hips stilled, you felt his load shooting into you. “s-so full.” You sighed, as he finished licking at your neck, two puncture wounds adorning your neck. “pretty baby.”
He pulled out of you — you whined at the sudden lost. “so greedy already.” He watched his cum leak out of you. “don’t worry princess we got forever.” He pulled your panties up. “keep it inside for me.” He kissed your lips. “you’re mine now.”
“mines forever.”
©️LUVYENI
#kpop x reader#kpop smut#enhypen reactions#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen x female reader#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon smut#sunghoon fic#sunghoon fanfic#sunghoon x female reader#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
five minutes | l.m.h
pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader
tags... established relationship, disgustingly fluffy, excessive references to soondoongdori, minho is a cat personified, soft mimo!
operation put your boyfriend to sleep in five minutes is a go.
wc... 1.4k words
a/n... ah, yet another domestic fluff fic featuring softy minho. a star specialty! sorry guys this is kinda my fav thing to write ever r u sick of me 😁 anywayz this was inspired by this soft thought and this tiktok like i saw it and immediately thought : lee minho.
ALSO ALSO! HUGE THANK YOU FOR 1K FOLLOWERS! i never would've thought i'd reach this milestone and words couldnt express how incredibly grateful i am for each and every one of you who read and enjoy my works <3 i love you guys thank you so much!
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
Minho turned the doorknob and pushed the front door open, greeting Soonie who stood by the entrance with a tilted head. Shutting the door, he hung his bag on the coat rack and bent down to pet his beloved cat’s chin.
“Hi, baby,” the cat nuzzled his head into Minho’s palm and circled around his arm, “where are your brothers, hm?”
Meow… Soonie walked off to the living room as if to answer Minho’s question. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he followed his cat toward the faint nose of your favorite series playing on the TV.
When he entered the room, Minho saw your figure strewn lazily across the couch. Dori was cuddled up against your chest and Soonie hopped up to join Doongie by your feet. His heart warmed at the sight of his loves all huddled together.
“Honey, I’m home,” Minho grabbed your attention with his gentle, sing-song tone, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.
You switched your attention from the screen in front of you to the man standing in the doorway, returning his smile and giving a small wave. “Hi, my love. How was your day?”
Minho padded over to you, scooped Dori up against his chest, and settled himself where the cat had previously taken solace in your arms.
“It was alright,” he said, scooching backward to press his back firm against your front. “Tiring, as usual, but it's fine.”
Though he couldn't see it, you nodded in acknowledgment and pressed a soft kiss to his head. You brought one hand up behind his ear to scratch at his scalp, something you had found he enjoyed.
“Do you want to go to bed already? It is pretty late.” From its place above the TV, the clock read 10:37 PM. “Maybe we should move our little cuddle session to the bedroom.”
Minho sighed and shook his head. “But, I'm already so comfy here. Plus, you wouldn't dare disturb the cats, would you?”
“Please, remember the last time we slept on the couch the whole night? I don’t think we want that happening again.”
“Y/n,” Minho called your name, dragging out the last syllable. “My back hurts so much! Remind me why we stayed on the couch again.”
“I told you we should have moved to the bed! But you wouldn’t listen to me,” you snickered at your boyfriend from the kitchen while you continued to whisk a couple of eggs for your breakfast.
You set the bowl down on the counter and walked over to Minho who was still lying on the couch. When you came into his sight, he made a show of stretching his arms and legs, akin to a cat, accompanied by a few exaggerated groans.
“I don’t think I can get up at all today. I should just call in sick,” Minho draped an arm over his face, letting the other fall limp over the edge of the cushion.
“Don’t you have an important meeting today? I doubt your boss would appreciate you missing that on account of an 'ouchy' back.”
“Well, maybe if you gave me more cuddles, I’d feel a bit better.” Minho peeked at you from under his arm, proposing this cute, yet slightly impractical, solution. “Unless you want me to miss work and stay at home with you today.”
“Alright, you big baby.” Rolling your eyes, you moved to straddle Minho’s lap, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Now chest to chest, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting the other one snake up his neck to play with the hairs at his nape.
The time you spent wrapped in each other’s warmth turned from seconds to minutes, the comfortable silence lulling you back to sleep. Minutes turned to hours, leaving Minho’s meeting unattended and the scrambled eggs forgotten on the kitchen counter.
“Ugh, at least give me five more minutes,” Minho offered as he continued to stroke Dori’s back, drawing a vibrating purr from the cat. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”
“Oh, come on, you have to brush your teeth anyways. Now get your lazy bum off the couch so we can cuddle on the bed.” You grabbed the throw pillow from behind your back and swung it at Minho’s side, accidentally startling Dori in the process. The cat jumped out of the man’s arms, causing him to throw a frown over his shoulder.
“Now look what you did! You’re scaring our babies.” Finally, Minho stood up, offering you his hand to pull you up as well. You met his hand with your own and anchored yourself up, giving him a sheepish smile.
“Oops.” You shrugged and skipped off to the bedroom, leaving your boyfriend with your three cats in the living room.
“Unbelievable.” Minho took a few steps towards the bathroom, paused, and turned back to look at his cats. “Well, are you coming with me or not?”
While your boyfriend finished his night routine, you lay on your shared bed and grinned to yourself. Operation Put Your Boyfriend to Sleep in Five Minutes was a go. You knew Minho was tired, and you wanted to send him off into a good night’s sleep in the most loving way you could.
The hallway light switched off as Minho opened the door to your bedroom, sporting a playful frown. It was time for Step One: Put him in a blanket.
“Come here, baby,” you peeled the duvet back and patted the space on the bed right next to you, beckoning your pouty boyfriend over to you. “Let’s get you to sleep, yeah?”
Trudging over to his side of the bed, Minho slid onto the mattress and pulled the heavy duvet over his body. Freshly washed, the warm, lavender-scented blanket immediately soothed his senses.
“You could’ve at least stayed with me while I brushed my teeth,” Minho continued to pout as he turned on his side to face you, “and, I don’t know, given me a back hug or something.”
Though his tone was playful, you recognized the look in Minho’s gaze. He yearned for your comfort, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. Reaching over, you cupped his face, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb. You peppered a few pecks on the corners of his mouth, kissing his pout away. Perfect timing for Step Two: Give reassuring pets.
“I’m here now, it’s okay.” His hair was soft in between your fingers as you threaded them through the fluffy locks. They smelled faintly of his coconut shampoo.
Tired, Minho let out a yawn, nose scrunched and eyelids shut. He leaned into your touch, humming contently.
Faintly, the door creaked open and you could hear light thuds on the carpeted floor, followed by a slightly louder thud on the bed as Doongie entered the bedroom and jumped up to join you. He stepped all over Minho’s body—drawing out a quiet yelp from the man beside you. You giggled as Doongie finally plopped down on Minho’s pillow, snuggling against the top of his head. This brought you to Step Three: Tuck him in.
With your boyfriend lying under the covers, you hooked one leg over him, moving your hand on his head to tuck it into your neck, cradling his body with no intent to stop any time soon.
For a second, the universe felt still. It was as though the ever-rotating hands on the clock had stopped moving, pausing to witness this intimate moment between you and Minho; as if even the angels in the skies above didn’t want this sweet gesture to end.
That was until Minho decided to take matters into his own hands and execute Step Four: Put one arm out for temperature regulation.
“It's too warm!” Minho whined into your neck, breaking the silence, and removed one arm from under the blanket, exposing it to the cold air. “Ah, that's better.”
He turned on his side and wrapped his now free arm around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, if that were even physically possible.
Seeing your bodies pressed flush against each other, Soonie—who was previously lounging at the foot of the bed—crawled up the sheets and nuzzled into the barely-there gap between you and Minho, with Dori following suit.
Within five minutes of lying down, the night ended with your small family cuddled together on the warm, cozy bed, basking in each other’s comfort.
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
taglist: @kflixnet @jinnixxn @elllisaaa @captainchrisstan @laylasbunbunny @starsandrqindrops @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @forlix @mires-empire @quesweebs
comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated!
© like-a-diamondinthesky 2023
#k-labels#kflixnet#stray kids#lee know#stray kids x reader#lee know x reader#lee minho#lee minho x reader#minho x reader#lee minho fluff#lee know fluff#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids lee know#stray kids minho#skz#skz x reader#skz lee know#・₊✧ written in the stars
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
bother figures * fem!driver
being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be
pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver
warnings: ugh annoying men
notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.
she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.
she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"
she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"
"what are you doing?"
"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"
"yes, actually. i like talking to you."
"i just wanted to talk to ciara."
"now you can talk to me."
"but i don't really feel like doing that."
"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."
"because she isn't an f1 driver."
"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."
"max."
"(y/n)."
"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."
"what's that got to do with anything?"
"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."
"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"
"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."
max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."
she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”
“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”
“i’m an oldest sister.”
“i’m an oldest brother.”
“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”
“that’s kinda crazy.”
“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”
“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”
“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”
“seb wouldn’t like that.”
“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”
“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”
“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”
“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”
“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”
“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”
“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”
“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”
carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”
"see? i told you."
"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"
she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"
"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."
she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"
"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."
she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"
she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.
"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."
"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."
"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"
"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."
"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"
"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."
"typical logan, really."
"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."
"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"
"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"
"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"
"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."
a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.
"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.
her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."
"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."
"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"
"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"
"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"
"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."
"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"
george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."
"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"
"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"
she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."
"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."
"that is also a supercar."
"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts
#alex albon x reader#max verstappen x reader#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#fem!driver#female driver#f1 fem!driver#f1 female driver#vettel reincarnate#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke vr#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 grid x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweet Delight // Gojo x f!reader (18+)
Synopsis: You are too nice to be serving rude customers for minimum wage. Rest assured that Satoru will take care of it.
Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, noncon/very dubious consent, somno, stalking, knives, deception, mind games, murder mentions, violence (not to reader).. that's all.
A/N: Yan!Gojo is Joe Goldberg to me, idk. Beta read by my guy bsf who said the ending sucked (inspired by quote used in this book)
It started on a Friday afternoon.
He was a regular, came to the store every day to get his coffee. No sugar. Iced. The order was unlike him, he seemed sweet, or at least friendly and inviting, he had the type of eyes your friends gushed over when talking about their favorite movie stars, too blue, too inquiring.
At first he smiled and handed you a bill, told you to keep the change and asked you if he could sit outside for a bit. Of course, why wouldn’t he? The store offered it and he knew it, he was just being polite. He would read from a book, whose cover you couldn’t see, seemed too absorbed and you often wondered how he could concentrate with the café’s obnoxiously loud music (owner’s order to attract customers). He’d more than often catch bystanders attention, be it his white hair, his tall physique or his peculiar blindfold, which he wore sometimes instead of sunglasses, the man was attracting people like a magnet. This one time a couple of girls sat down next to him and talked purposefully loud. He lifted his chair and brought it closer to the register, closer to you. Yet, he still didn’t speak.
The first time he spoke to you besides a thanks and can I sit outside for a bit was when a customer harassed you verbally. You got the order wrong and while you offered a second free drink, he started calling you worthless. Your eyes watered and voice broke as he stepped in
“Please do not offend the barista, it was a simple mistake.” He spoke calmly while being twice the size of the customer.
“This is none of your business, sir..” The customer scoffed as he tried standing upright to make himself taller.
“I said.” Satoru sighed “Please get the fuck out the store or it will be..sir.” While there wasn't any physical threat, the tone was convincing enough to have the customer backtrack, hiss and leave the store empty handed.
“I'm sorry for that.” You told him as he looked at you.
“Don't be, this wasn't your fault.”
“I'm Satoru by the way, remember me?”
Of course you did, he was the most loyal customer.
—
It happened on a Friday afternoon.
Your shift started at 1 PM and ended at 9 PM sharp. Satoru had a meticulous routine: 1-3 was for observing. He wouldn't call it stalking, no, that word was degenerate and he wasn't like that. He was just observing you, your hands, as they moved, expressions as you skimmed milk and some of it spilled on the counter, your interactions with customers. He couldn't risk another incident like before. 3-6 was when he usually made an appearance. Black coffee. No sugar, iced and the table just across the bar; close but not too close. He was disappointed today, you hadn't looked at him once—well, in your defense the café was crowded, yet you still looked gorgeous, even with your sleep deprived eyes and disheveled hair, so soft and pure. He loved that. What would it take for him to get your attention? He found himself balancing between proclaiming his feelings and showing you them but decided on the latter. He would—today.
6-9 he had to wait in his car this time, it was raining but he couldn't leave you out of his sight, what if something happened to you? Your stupid manager had you close the store at 9 PM all alone in the dark, what a cheapskate cunt, not hiring a second person on the shift. Should he kill him? No, that’d be too soon. He would make an appearance before nine anyway.
8:40 was when he got out of the car, sloppily wearing a balaclava he’d gotten from Suguru (his seventh grade ninja Halloween costume) and his usual black work uniform. A knife was in his hands as he noticed you from across the road washing some cups. Perfect, you weren't looking but also careless of you, exactly as expected. He barged in the store and tried his hardest to make his voice drop an octave deeper, shit, would you recognize him?
“Give me your money or I'll stab you.” He was laughing internally but had to put on a fake growl, your expression was priceless.
“P—please don't kill me!” was the first thing you said (brokenly mewled) as your poor hands started shaking.
“I said now.” He said as he stabbed the blade in the air. Damn, that was too easy, you were too gullible.
“P–please I will, I–I am all alone.. one moment–'' Poor you, you had already started crying, tears were falling down your face but you didn't seem to notice. Should he stop this now? Probably.
“How incompetent are you? Are you this slow with customers too?” He decided to tease you a little longer, thriving off of your reactions.
Your eyes shot up for a brief second, was it the customer with Satoru a few days ago? He had said something along these lines, but this couldn't be. He was way shorter and had stopped coming ever since Satoru put him in his place. You were thankful for that.
Your hands opened the register as the paper bills you held threatened to soak, you still had one glove on... you looked a bit silly.
“Hey, hey..” Satoru’s voice quickly returned as the mask was removed “It's just me, see?” He whispered, trying to soothe the tone as your eyes widened.
“S–Satoru, what!?” Your voice trembled as the money fell from your hands and you took a step back.
“I wanted to pull a prank on you, I'm sorry if I scared you.” He smiled apologetically but you still couldn't utter a word.
“W-why would you do that? That's sick!” You cried out as he came behind the bar and tried to pull you in an embrace, knife now tucked in his jacket. To get close to you, to teach you a lesson, to make you need me would be his answer. You punched him on the chest, muffled cries fell from your lips. Well... you couldn't land a blow, that was for sure, but you looked cute with your clenched fists taking out your anger on him.
“F–fuck you!” His firm hands stopped your weak, aimless punches and you sobbed on his chest. You smelled divine, even at the end of your shift.
Was this love?
“Hey.. come on now, I said I'm sorry, okay?” He said as he pulled away.
“Came to say I'll stay with you till 9, it's not safe out there.” He promised as you wordlessly returned to the sink. He'd make you love him.
Around 9:10 you closed the store. His prank had slowed you down, exactly as expected, he figured it wasn't often you lost control and he was proud it affected you. It made you susceptible to control. You silently sat with Satoru outside while he insisted on driving you home.
“I don't need a ride. I'm fine.” It wasn't funny to tamper with your feelings like that, he didn't seem like the type and he'd taken you by surprise; actions like these didn't align with the image he painted for himself. He was always so kind, so protective, so—
“Give me the fucking store keys!” was heard before you turned your attention to the voice ahead of you. A man shouted, not too loud to alert anyone but enough to make a point. The street was empty and he was holding what seemed like a paper bag as you turned to Satoru.
This surely had to be another one of his pranks? You were about to laugh when you looked at him. He seemed taken aback, frozen in his spot and his eyes squinted as your heartbeat accelerated.
“What is it with this neighborhood and robberies?” Satoru talks after a while, his tone is confident as he looks at you and the guy growls. Why is he so calm?What is going on?—
“Shut the fuck up and give me the keys or I'll fucking blow your heads off!” The man says moving his hand to your direction, was this guy bluffing? Did he even have anything under the bag? Was your life about to end? It wasn't like people didn't talk about the criminals in the neighborhood—you’d never work there if it wasn't for necessity.
“And if we don't?” Satoru stops you from reaching for the keys as he fights hard to wipe off the grin on his face. Well, that was unexpected, but he isn't scared, he never is, as you interrupt.
“Satoru! P–please! Let me give him the keys!” You cry out, the day straight out of a nightmare the longer it drags on and you honestly can't put up another fight. You'd rather have whoever this was steal an insignificant amount of money from the register than end your life. Sure, there wasn't much to live for, but it was always different when under real threat.
“You’d give him the keys, really?” He scoffs annoyed. He couldn’t believe what a victim you were, couldn't you see he was right there for you? Despite his abilities you still failed to see him. Silly you.
“What c-can we do? He..he– and we–” Was this really the time? Why is he even negotiating this?
“Bitch, stop talking.” The guy spits, tired of your back and forth, as Satoru finally addresses him.
“That’s not very nice.” He is calm.
So calm that you almost don't see his fist obliterating the guy. One punch and he's knocked down, Satoru climbs on top.He pulls his fists down interchangeably but it's fast and you can't count, must be about seven that leave the guy with no time to react, hands to his sides as he yelps. Satoru reaches for his pocket and is about to grab the knife, when he feels two warm hands touch him and he turns around.
“P–please! Let's just go home!” You sob, eyes wide and the pain in your voice breaks his heart. Home, you said? He gets up and kicks the man’s limbs like a soccer ball—blood oozes down his mouth onto the curb and he chokes on some of it. Satoru's knuckles are stained but he gives you his hand as the pulp ahead withers.
Home.
-
He gave you clothes, a sleep set he had in his closet, you’d never know it was specifically tailored and cut out to your size, how would you know? It’s not like he’d tell you he stole (he called it borrow) articles you discarded at work. Your jacket when too hot, a change of pants as he brought them to the store's bathroom and returned them just as discreetly at 5:30 PM. They smelled like you, but he couldn’t categorize the odor, it was too hard. As for the color.. that he didn't care about. Anything would work really. His mind couldn't stop racing when he heard the shower head start, you'd never agree to his hospitality but that was his home, his rules. You also had a very rough day and it didn't take a lot to convince you.
He offered you his bed, he’d sleep on the couch and despite you objecting, he got you to comply. He could only imagine how much today drained you— physically and mentally. He let you sleep, he wasn't some monster, plus he had work to do. You’d wake up around 9, he calculated, so he had time.
When he finally sat down the couch, he couldn't sleep. Knowing you were there, so close and so vulnerable broke him. He didn't wait for his hair to dry — spot cleaning blood on the sink stole away his energy as he slipped on the bed, you were facing the wall and he placed his arms around you. You made no noise but you didn't seem to be sleeping heavily either, you’d slightly toss and turn. Poor you, was it a nightmare? He smelled your shampoo, it wasn't yours really but a variation of the ones you had at home as his fingers went through strands of your hair. He came closer, wanting to feel your body's heat and moved to your chest. His fingers sought your heart as he felt your pulse. A cock pressed against you—he’d been hard for some time and it wouldn’t go away as his palms searched for your nipples. One pinch and they were already hard, shit, he thought as he moved his dick on you. What if he went lower? Would you be a good girl for him? He moved to your belly as he put one leg softly over you, angling his cock directly at your cunt's entrance from behind while he rubbed against the folds, palms finding you from the front. He loved this embrace, all his to play with. He traced the slit and rubbed some more. You felt so soft and tempting. He’d bet no one could protect you like him and that gave him motivation. Yeah, that was right, he deserved a little thank you for his hard work. He fondles your cunt while his stiff cock annoys him, he’ll deal with it later. He buries a finger inside you, your cunt is wet, he thinks and you're not even conscious. Satoru pumps it slowly, it lubricates you in the process as it coats him halfway—he groans far from your ear and pushes another. You inhale sharply.
He pops them in and out until he fears he's becoming too fast so he removes his palm and uses your slick for his pleasure now. Boxers and sweatpants are removed as he wraps around the shaft, his precum gets smeared on his cockhead and he brings it down his base, it creates a wet mess and he gets off on it. He doesn't need much visually, your back softly breathing is enough to pump faster but— you felt so warm, he reasons, should he? You’d be his soon enough so might as well. He quickly turns to your side and lowers the set you're wearing (you'd think he intentionally sized up so it'd be easier to pull them down) as he pushes your panties to the side. You were a naughty girl, wearing a thong to work. Too dangerous, the world had many perverts. He puts his stiff cock on your entrance as he tries to shove just the head first; he hisses at the contact and you move, it's too late to back down now and he grows desperate. Within a second he tilts his hips into your needy cunt—he doesn't flatter himself, he's big so it's no surprise you groan and he assumes open your eyes. You feel tight and warm and he doesn’t care about your shock—he’s close.
“What.. agh—what are you doing?!” You're cut off in between moans as he ruts into you, you choke on a cry and he picks up his pace. His cock is stuffing you to the brim, it hurts but he can't be considerate. You feel like you can't breathe, dizzy from a nap and a repeated thump down your core. Yet, a primal instinct of pleasure washes away a conscious you telling yourself it's wrong and fuck— you moan out his name. Why do you moan?
“Shit, couldn't help myself, sorry baby.” He breathes out as he bucks his hips up and you feel too full.
“Satoru! S–stop...” But your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues, hands caressing your chest and his breath on your neck while your hips are brought to clash onto his and nasty sounds come from the contact.
“Fuck, so pretty, baby, hm?” He moans and he’s already close, cock throbs as you prettily squeeze him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, it’s like you’re made perfectly to accommodate him and look at you!—clenching your cunt like some slut.
“N–ugh– Satoru please—” You cry out, scared but with a heat coiling low that makes you unable to protest louder. You think of his kind eyes, heartwarming grin (“Got these bad boys for you”, as he gave you your favorite cookies) but soon they're gone away—
—replaced by his cock rutting in your damp walls. You're unwillingly sucking him in, you can't think straight, he's... good? No. He's disgusting for this. Water blurs your eyesight—it's too much.
A hand is on your clit as he bites your soft neck at the same time. God, how he longed for this. Having you in his arms. He adored you.
“Want to come on my cock, like the helpless slut you are, baby?” He whispers but it's soft—like he's teasing you for missing the bus and you cry.
“I- agh-n-no..please—” You muffle and beg and his hand circling your clit slaps on the nub repeatedly as you jerk; “I can't—I–” He doesn't pay attention, his cock is ripping you apart and you have to let go—riding out an unwarranted orgasm. He loves your mess, no, he loves you and since you're conscious (not that it'd matter), he lifts your leg up as he angles himself so deep, you yell; overstimulated and still scared.
“Satoru, e–enough!” He's bottoming out in between sticky walls and you ache, hoping for an end.
“Don't be selfish baby—fuck!” He groans as large palms squeeze around your neck and then he's cumming — fast and as much as possible, you think. It feels warm and disgusting, his breathy moans are on your ear as you force your eyes shut. What doesn't make it inside, seeps back out but it’s not a lot, since you’re fully stuffed and he takes his sweet time to pull out. You just feel that good. He plants a kiss on your back as he returns with towels and puts you back to sleep. You cry—he estimates 15 minutes before you give up and let sleep take care of you.
One step at a time.
-
It's your 3 month anniversary. He doesn't tell you that of course, its embarrassing because it's 3 months since he found you, 2 days since he introduced himself. You still work at the café but you don't have to worry, soon you’ll never have to work again, he has big plans. He is proud of himself for finding you, it wasn't often someone intrigued him so much. He liked how genuine you were, naive and a bit dumb of course but that was exactly what made you so pure. He’d bet even at your lowest, you'd never cuss anyone out. Like for example that cunt of a customer the other day but it was fine, he’d do it for you, actually—
A message from Suguru pops up.
“Comin tonight?”
“No, have plans.” He gets bored easily and this time isn't an exception.
“Again? New record?” He can always read Suguru's irony. Funny of him to think he'd stop there.
“I told you I’d take care of it.” Satoru hastily types.
That guy really shouldn't have called you a bitch, it wasn't even in the script. Look where that got him. In Satoru's trunk ready to meet Mr. Worthless. He shuts his phone, he thinks about throwing it away, there's no need for it anyways. Especially when you're here.
He thinks about some quote his dad used to tell him, how did it go? Some are born to sweet delight—
14 minutes till your shift ends. What was it?
—some are born to endless night? It all makes sense now, it rhymes, that's why he still remembers it.
Or maybe you just give the first part a meaning.
#jujutsu kaisen#yandere satoru gojo#jjk fanfic#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#yandere satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#yandere gojo#yandere x reader#tw somno#tw noncon#tw dubcon
600 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
miy0wi
ludwig wiki feet
tokramen
i am:
ayano-vs-dev
Fuck It, I Hate The Dev
manero
Sin título
stormibabe
Stormi🖤