#and... I'm so tired and so numb and so ready to be done

[bonniepop]

another night where you fight, another night of silence. another night where miya osamu sleeps with his back to you.

the realization that there is not much more you can do to save your relationship clutches at your chest with an iron grip.

the gravity of it makes you whimper. pressing your lips together, you shakily push yourself up to sit blinking back tears while blindly stepping around for your slippers, willing yourself not to sob—not here, not where he can hear. your toes touch the fluff of them, and you hurry to slip them on. you need to get out of here.

as quiet as possible, you leave your boyfriend in your shared bedroom.

you stumble to the couch and kick off your shoes, blindly searching until your fingers catch the lampshade switch. you yank it to provide some light, rattling as it flings back into place.

you pull your knees to your chest and press your forehead against your kneecaps. a numb part of your brain thinks oh, so this is where this was, when you think of the misery that quieted itself, replaced with a numbness that overtook you during the fight you had with him earlier.

the numbness that made your limbs feel like ice when he clicked off the phone call without even hearing you out.

you wanted to tell him so much, but in the face of his blank gaze and dismissive demeanor, you shut off. you have more fight in you, you know that. but tonight you just couldn’t. couldn’t listen to him tell you that he needed more from you—more support, more time, more patience.

you’ve given him that, right? your brain runs with thoughts you can't keep up with. you gave him yourself. you have, for months, for years. you did what you could. you’ve withstood lonely anniversaries, forgotten birthdays, broken promises. you’ve done everything you could. you gave what you could. you gave everything you could.

i want you to come home, you wanted to tell him eatlier tonight. come home. you’re never home. i know you’re busy at work and you’re doing what you love but please, ‘samu. please. 

love me, too.

your body wracks with a sob, the hurt fresh, as if the words that you never got to say wounded your insides instead. you wanted to tell him that, you wanted to beg for it, beg for his time, beg for his attention, beg for him to love you back. but time and time again he just turns and says he’s tired, he doesn't want to hear it, and the moment is gone, and now the fear of knowing that leaving things unsaid will destroy you, will destroy him. will destroy both of you.

you huddle closer into yourself and sob, a sharp sound in your ears making your head pound.

“babe?” you hear through the ringing in your ears, and suddenly warm hands are on your arms. “babe, what’s wrong?” his voice is calm against your turmoil. “are you having a panic attack?”

“’samu, i’m—” you shudder and he leaves for a moment, flitting to the kitchen to grab you some water. 

“drink, please,” he tells you, gently unfurling you to sit. you comply with shaky limbs, taking the water he’d given you in your delicate grip. a few sips are enough to calm you down, but the fear is still there.

he gingerly takes the glass and sets it aside. he kneels in front of you, taking your hands and soothingly rubbing his thumbs against your skin. his fingers are hot, almost like a furnace, but when you realize that he's not, he's fine, your hands are freezing, you resist the urge to pull away as he warms your palm.

when he looks up to smile at you, you see the exhaustion on his face, and, instantly, you hate yourself for it. for this.

"i'm sorry," you blurt out, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

his hand leaves yours and cups your cheek. "for what, baby?"

“i love you so much, osamu,” you tell him without thinking, voice thick and wet and miserable. you press the palm of the hand he let go of against his cheek, hiccuping when he closes his eyes to lean into your touch. 

“i love you, too,” he says, ready to apologize for the fight, but it's not about that.

not anymore.

you pull away. the confusion and hurt on his face is making everything worse.

“i love you so much,” you tell him, desperately wishing that he could understand. “but i—” you sob, “but, osamu, i can’t anymore.”

osamu presses his lips together, saying nothing. you hear him sniffle, and his fingers come forward to brush at the tears on your cheeks and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“i love you so much,” you confess. “i would do anything for you. and i have, i have for years. i’ve tried my best, but osamu, i’m so tired,” you sob. your voice feels like its giving out but the desperation makes the words claw themselves out of your mouth. “i’m so tired, i'm so tired and i'm so lonely, and—and—and i love you so much, but i have nothing left to give.”

you pull your hands away to hunch over and cry into your palms unable to face him. messily, you wipe at your face and push your hair back. you give him the most apologetic smile you can muster, but you're unable to see his face through your tears. “i’m so sorry i can’t give you more, osamu.”

you hear him sniffle and when you wipe your tears away with the backs of your hands, his eyes are glassy. then he closes his eyes.

the pain that washes over his face is absolutely unbearable. the furrow of his brow and the wrinkle of his chin, the lines by his scowl that you know is him trying his best to keep it together.

when he opens his eyes to look at you, his eyes are no longer glassy. your heart breaks for the pain he refuses to show. “what’s next?”

your smile is sad and wet with tears. “i think you know.” you brush his hair back and cradle his face with your hands. “let’s… let’s do this in the morning, okay?”

he nods, looking away. he licks his lips and shakes his head, and he turns to face you with a furrowed brow and a little more composure despite his watery gaze. but it doesn’t take long before his face crumples and he rushes to hide his face against your legs. his quiet sobs are pained and miserable, his chest shaking as he cries. 

you press your face against his hair and cry with him.

—

the morning greets you kindly, the soft sunlight bathing your room in a sweet glow. it’s early, but you can’t keep sleeping. there’s a lot to pack.

your eyes feel hot and swollen, and bones feel heavy beneath your skin, weighing you down from getting up from the bed. still, you fight. you push yourself up to sit and notice that you’re alone. unsurprising, really; osamu has been leaving earlier and coming home later. onigiri miya needs care, needs nurturing, so it’ll blossom and grow. you need to stop begrudging him for it.

you finish your morning ablutions in the bathroom and head out to the kitchen, but when you open your bedroom door, the smell of food hits your nose like a smack to the face. your stomach twists when you see a familiar broad back—osamu didn’t leave—and your fingers turn cold.

the door slides shut behind you and he turns. “good mornin’,” he says quietly, shutting off the stove.

“good morning,” you say, walking to your kitchenette. when you see the spread on the table, you gape despite yourself. “osamu. what is—what.”

he flushes, sliding a delicious looking steak unto a plate and setting it alongside the other plates—nearly every single plate you own, you note—and your dining table is bursting with food. “cooked breakfast.”

“for how many people?” you ask, incredulous. “i tried t'remember everythin’ you liked,” he said with a sniff, and your heart crinkles at the edges, because that means something.

“thank you,” you whisper, and you quietly take a seat while sets aside the dishware he used. 

when he finishes, he turns to look at you, leaning on the counter. it takes him a while. “when you leave,” he says, “i’m going to try again.”

you stare at him, confused. you say nothing and wait for him to continue.

“i don’t want you to leave,” he says, and he rubs his face in frustration. “but i know i’ve—i know i fucked up. i love you, and i never should’ve hurt you.” he inhales through his nose. “but i did, and i can’t change that.

“but i’m not giving up on you. not on us. you—” he clears his throat, and the dark circles beneath his eyes makes your heart feel tight. “i’ll… if i have to start all over again, i’ll do it,” he whispers, walking closer and taking your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “i’ll win you back.”

“osamu,” you whisper, and his face crumples again.

“i love you too much to let you go,” he says, voice breaking as he fights back tears. “and i know that makes me a jerk. but i’m… i love you, so much—so fucking much, and i hate myself for not making you feel that. for hurting you.”

he gets on his knees and tears are streaming down your face. “leave me if you have to,” he says brokenly.

“if you need space, i’ll understand. but please,” he begs. “please don’t give up on me.” 

he does the unthinkable. he curls over and bows, back curved and forehead pressed against the backs of his hands, pressed against the floor.

the horror that overtakes you is beyond words. 

you drop to the floor to pull him upright, not letting him do this. he won’t do this to himself, you won’t let him. not for anyone, not for you. you pull his face against yours and kiss him as hard as you can, crying as you do.

you won't let him do this.

later, you sit on the couch, arms around osamu’s middle as you lie on his chest. the idea that this could be the last time you held him like this made you want to burst into tears again.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he promises, pushing your hair out of your face, gently guiding your chin up. “please, just… give me another chance.”

you look up at him, and your eyes meet.

—

“hey!” atsumu greets warmly as soon as you enter the restaurant, spreading his arms wide to engulf you in a hug. “it’s so good t’see you!“

“hi, ‘tsumu,” you greet, returning the hug. 

he motions for you to sit as he picks up the menu. “know what you want?”

you nod, not even bothering to pick up the menu. “how are you? how’s training?”

“’m good! training’s good. teammates are pretty good, too.”

"yeah? like who?"

atsumu makes a show of looking at the menu. "oh, i don't you know them."

you roll your eyes at his obvious ploy to get you to start talking. “fine. ask me.”

atsumu instantly leans in, conspiratorially covering his mouth with the menu and whispering, “how are you two? it’s been over a month now, right?”

“oi.” you twist your head to smile up at the newcomer. “stop bothering them, ‘tsumu.”

atsumu glares at his twin. “i’m the one who invited ‘em to lunch!”

osamu rolls his eyes and lays down a platter of onigiri in front of you. he snatches the menu and smacks his brother’s wandering hands with it before they get to close. “these are not for you.”

“but that’s a lot!" atsumu whines. "can’t i have any?”

“no,” osamu says resolutely, then turns to you and gives you the softest smile he can muster, pinning the menu by his side and arm.

"i haven't even ordered yet!" atsumu complains.

osamu ignores him. “let me know what you think.”

“okay,” you say with a smile. 

“and let me know if you need to take out anything,” he continues, “i’ll wrap it up for you.” he leans forward and presses a kiss to your temple. “enjoy.”

“thank you, ‘samu,” you tell him before he turns to leave. 

he smiles back at you and heads back behind the bar.

atsumu has evidently forgotten about ordering, because his eyes shuttle back and forth between you two before nodding considerably. “so i take it things are going well?”

“yeah,” you admit, picking up an onigiri. “going really well, actually.”

“you’ve been…” atsumu searches for the word, “is it still called ‘dating’? you broke up. but… entertaining each other…?”

“don’t hurt yourself,” you joke. “but yeah. let’s call it dating. and it’s going well, thanks for asking.” you take a bite of the onigiri.

“does he still have a chance?” atsumu asks, genuine curiosity on his face.

you chew thoughtfully as you look back at osamu, who’s smiling at a customer. you remember that bright morning, when he helped you pack, helped you move into your friend’s apartment. when he cooked all that food, and you found it neatly packed away in a thermal bag that had a handwritten note, reminding you to eat well.

you remember the next day, when he showed up at your friend’s door, holding flowers and inviting you out to get some ice cream. you remember his messages, his calls, his check ins on you, littered across the days, asking you how you are or if you’re eating or if you need any food.

you could call him if you needed any help, if you needed anything at all.

but reality sets in when you think of how one phone call could be a mistake, it stops you from searching his name each time you pick up the phone.

in your mind, you see his bent form, his begging, his tears. you remember his smiles and his hugs and his ‘see you later’s, his gradually growing list of unbroken promises. you remember the effort, the time he’s putting into you, putting aside for you. you remember how hard he tries for you.

it's like everything is new again.

his eyes catch yours and he gives you a small wave, and you wave back, your stomach fluttering.

it's not new, you think. it's better.

you swallow your food. it's delicious.

“yeah,” you say softly, “he does.”

[mintmatcha]

mint do you perhaps have any sweet touya and reader moments to spare? maybe when they were younger before he knew what it was like to be numbed by whatever drugs he could get his hands on. maybe between rehab stints when he’s feeling great for 2 weeks and talking about marriage and a house god forbid a baby. maybe im sick in the head but GODDDD i love him and reader i feel maternal

The car wobbles once it hits 45, but Touya keeps creaking down on the gas, edging the beast faster and faster down the dusty back road. The road sign says 35, but you both know better: this is the place to fly.

You swivel in your seat, choking down a laugh.

"Sho-- Touya, turn down the music." Instead, Touya leans over and rolls the knob louder, until the song crackles in the speakers and dances over your skin. The night thrums with it, over the sounds of spring peepers and early summer.

"Can't hear you-" he shouts back.

"Touya-"

You turn back to the seat behind you. Scrunched up on his seat is Shouto, hands over his ears and a scowl on his face. His tiny for his age -- honestly, he should probably be in a car seat, but he sits inbetween Touya's bags and doodads like a big boy. Sniveling back, you turn down the music.

Your boyfriend almost says something, but you jerk your head towards his brother. "Hey, he doesn't like it."

"Aw, come on, you big baby," Touya cranks the rearview mirror to look at his little brother. The make the same face at each other, with stuck out tongues and sneered teeth. "Don't give me that, you little shit. I bought you a large ice cream. With sprinkles. And you got it literally everywhere."

There's really no way to tell where Touya's mess starts and Shouto's ice cream drips begin.

"Dad says it's bad to have that much sugar."

"Oh, then give it back." Touya reaches behind him, palm up.

"I ate it."

"Throw it up. Right into my hand."

Shouto gjves a little 'ugh'. He holds himself like a teenager, adjusting his little prep school uniform (somehow still pristine.)

"You're gross."

Summer has just started for the kid. His camps and tutors start next week and his dad is only out of town until tomorrow, so this is his first and last night of freedom. Fuyumi was supposed to be in charge, but Touya had convinced her that one trip for ice cream couldn't hurt.

The speedometer rolls up to 55.

"What's the rule, little man?" Touya starts creeping the music up again.

"I'm not a kid," the boy scoffs. "And I know not to tell dad about this."

"Or...?"

"Or Fuyumi or Natsuo or mom. I know. It's just driving over a hill."

"You're only saying that because you haven't done it yet. It's one of those things that make you a man. Going over Diggim's Hill, having a beer, touching a boob-" Touya's hand creeps up to honk your breast. You smack him off gently.

"Touya, quit it."

"I never want to touch a boob."

"You'll change your mind about that." The road curves so suddenly that you have to hang on to the sides to stay upright. It's coming up-- the infamous hill. It's really not more than a molehill, but it you hit it fast enough, your car hops over.

"You ready, princess?" Touya says just as you all hit the point of no return. "Hold tight."

The car hits the crest of the hill and you all keep going, hanging on to the moment without gravity for just a moment longer than seems possible. Touya's hand finds your thigh and squeezes protectively, as if there was something to fear in this moment. From the back, Shouta laughs, this creaky little thing that's finally boyish, beautifully childlike.

Then, all three of you clunk back down to earth, the tires catching asphalt. The three of you squeal and laugh and howl as the car slows, rolling to a crawl.

Touya's grip twitches on your thigh again. He's watching you, not the road, under eyes heavy with smile.

"You're kinda pretty when you laugh like that."

"I'm gonna throw up," Shouto says and Touya groans.

"Listen, you're gonna-"

He's cut off by a wet retch.

The three of you spend the next hour on the side of the road, Shouto hunched, you rubbing his back affectionately. Every time you glance up, Touya is watching you with this pensive grin.

[beat-the-morning]

🖤 Fumigation Journal || Hozier x Reader🖤

BOTH PARTS

READ ON TUMBLR UNDER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ || smut

Tags: oral sex, multiple orgasms, cum eating, cum swallowing, marsturbation interrupted, love confessions, fingering, face fucking, dry humping, marking, creampie (kinda), squirting, breakfast in bed

Summary: Andrew is staying at your apartment while his house gets fumigated, you come back from work one day only to find him with your dream journal in hand. What will happen next?

Word Count: 7k

A/N: This fic was co-written with oomf :) We both wrote both chapters— go give them some love!!

Their Wattpad

💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙

You gazed out your window, sleepy eyes reverently observing the sunrise. Your heart swelled— somehow, the sunrise always felt prettier when you had someone to love. Really, everything in life gets slathered in beauty

And, oh, how close your love was. He was staying in your shitty apartment instead of his big, old house. The one that had no air conditioning, that he needed to get renovated when he moved in to even be able to piss in the bathroom. It also frequently got infested with bugs. Andrew tried everything, but nothing really worked. Not bug traps, nor the exterminator, nor closing the gaps in the house.

So, currently the house was getting fumigated. Maybe these bugs realized how he was made for you. Maybe they were on your side— the ultimate matchmakers. You giggled into your pillow at the mere thought.

You got up and rolled out of bed. Work was in 30 minutes— it was probably best to suck it up and stop staring at the sky, like some sort of romantic. Even if you very well were. You stumbled out of your room, hair frizzy, face bare, eyes blurry.

Your sleepy legs made their way into the kitchen, every step a battle. You weren't paying attention, your mind was way better at thinking about your pretty best friend. In consequence, you bumped into the man himself. Face hitting his chest, you let out a tired groan. You looked up at him with weary eyes— one of his hands ended up on your shoulder, steadying you.

“Clumsy morning, huh?”

You cover your mouth, hiding a yawn. Andrew laughed, a warm, mellow, welcoming sound. Wanting him was your only absolute this early. Everything was blurry, you really didn't care about anything, you were tired, and your head hurt. But you wanted him, and you wanted him now.

“I made french toast.” He said, letting you go, interrupting your thinking.

You happily hummed, sitting down at the table as he set a plate in front of you, “Thank you, Andy”

“No problem. And I'm sorry for this being all so sudden. Thank you for taking me in. It… it really means a lot, you're a sweetheart. Truly.”

Your cheeks flushed, and it took you a few seconds to compose yourself before you dug into your pancakes.

Once you were done stuffing your face, you quickly got ready for your job. You organized books at the local library— and you sure as hell dressed the part. You decided on a patterned button down and black trousers- hell, your elderly neighbor dressed younger than you.

Work was boring as fuck, but at least it was Friday, so no more work for a couple days. You got through the day with one too many cups of coffee and at least one “smoke break”, which was really just a lap around the block to get away from work for a few minutes.

You didn't have the worst job ever—hell, the pay was the best you'd had. But it was tedious, and mind-numbingly boring. Especially when you had a man at home. Not your man, but rather the man you were given the curse of being “just friends” with.

You were utterly thrilled, yet exhausted at the end of the day, when you took the bus home and planned what movie you and Andy were to watch.

Your aching legs made their way up the stairs, your hand holding tightly onto the handrail, trying not to fall down the steps from how drowsy you were. The sweet promise of seeing your best friend filled you, though, and it did almost numb your pain.

You finally reached your floor, opening the door, heart warm and fuzzy, and your eyes befell a beautiful, but shocking sight.

Andrew lay there, on your cozy couch, in sweatpants and a white ribbed tank top. Even that was enough to stun you. His eyes were focused, glazed over, head tilted back. His hair was messy, tangled.

In one hand, he held a small, black journal- with striking similarity to your dream journal. You’d been using it for a few months now and had written every dream you’d had in it, while it had started out with innocent little fairytales, your dreams had become far less appropriate as of late. So the journal mostly was composed of dirty descriptions of intimacy- all with Andrew. This was the book that you mistakenly left open on your coffee table the night before. His other hand was under his sweatpants, gripping tightly, stroking his cock with wild abandon. He knew it was wrong, that he was invading your privacy, but god, was he weak for you.

“So fuckin’ hot…” He groans, the world around him fuzzy and blurred. “Please” he whimpered, bucking into his hand, a bit of drool leaking onto his chest, soaking the hair that peeked out from under that singlet.

You took it all in, and realized that you should not be watching this. You quickly shut the door, followed by a loud curse from Andy. You could feel your heart pounding in your ear. Fuck, were you wet. You were still in your work clothes, very much dressed like a librarian. But you couldn’t deny the wetness underneath it all, you felt your panties soaking more and more as the seconds passed by, you hated and loved what his simple yet perverted act was doing to you.

Behind the door, Andrew quickly put his conscious, ever twitching length away under those unintentionally slutty grey sweatpants. Or intentionally— you knew this man. Despite his very common bouts of disliking everything about himself, he knew how hot others saw him. And he wasn’t an idiot— he'd seen your reverent stares. He'd noticed how you always stayed wrapped in his arms just a second too long after hugs. He knew that you were attracted to him on some level. Maybe not the full extent, but he knew something was up.

How could he ruin this by wanking off to your private journal? Once his dick was put away, still twitching, leaking a bit in his pants, he ran his hand through his hair, hunched over, filled with guilt. Your moleskin-wrapped journal was abandoned on the floor. Man, did he fuck up.

You leaned into the door, your voice shaky— you were embarrassed, turned on, and terrified all at the same time.

“Andy… you decent?” you called out on the other side of the thin door, meek.

He looked up from his hands covering his flushed face, and responded a very pathetic, “Yea… Ehm, yeah, I am.” He shifted awkwardly, before his pretty hazel eyes fixed upon the floor. Shamed, and rightfully cockblocked.

You opened the door, slowly walking back into your apartment, your eyes focused on the floor, too embarrassed to look over at him. His breathing was shaky— he was scared to take even one step closer to you.

“I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t—“ he cut himself off, taking in a deep breath before speaking again. “I have no excuse, I really, really don’t. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I was.. you were gone, found yer book… and… and I thought you were working, and I'm so fucking sorry, Ang-” He cut himself off with a sob, one finger nervously twisting at a curl.

Angel, huh? The man was always such a sweet talker when he fucked up. Now you weren't even mad at him, how could you be? You wished you could have the image of him pleasuring himself burnt into your eyelids. But you snapped out of these filthy thoughts when he spoke again.

“I’ll just leave, I know you probably need to process this whole thing, but please don’t—“

“No- I mean, it’s…” You took a heavy breath in. Please keep going. You thought, but what slipped out was a little more civil;

“We all do it, yeah? So… so…” You took another heavy breath in, your tone changing to a softer one. “Don’t leave.”

His heart broke with your last words, how could he say no to you?

“No, no, I'm… really sorry, that journal was private. And… and it's not fair to you,” cue the chorus of sniffles, “It's none of my business, even if it's about-”

And when you thought your cheeks couldn't flush more. Your best friend was sobbing, and yet you couldn't help but notice the outline in those sweats. Long, hard, twitching, leaking onto the waistband. Oh, how you wish to swallow it whole.

You took a step closer to him, finally looking into his eyes, they were red and teary, begging for forgiveness. You hugged him, awkwardly, but you knew he didn’t care much about that. He just needed the embrace of another. He felt horrible—disrespectful, dirty, perverted. All he wanted to do was sink into this couch and die from pure sin.

But the closest he could do was sink into you. He was so disappointed in himself that he didn't really notice his face was between your breasts. Fine, he did notice, and it made him even harder. But it was a shameful boner— and he really did derive a lot of comfort from your embrace.

You gently stroked his hair, whispering the occasional ‘you're okay’. Did he notice how hard your nipples were? Did he feel your heart beating? Oh, you felt him. Obviously he was hunched over, in a way that you couldn't feel his cock, but you could feel his shaky hands holding onto you. You could feel the way he nuzzled his nose into your breast— and fuck, did it turn you on.

You moved to the couch, sitting down next to each other, you gently pulled his face from your chest, holding it tenderly in your hands. He looked so ashamed, yet aroused. He closed his eyes for a second, relishing in your touch and caresses, surprised that you even wanted him near you.

He sighed softly, eyes still closed, you placed a tender kiss on his forehead, your thumbs softly rubbing his cheeks in an attempt at comforting him.

When you pulled away slightly, he let out a little whine. He didn't mean to– he was ever so flustered. His cheeks under your fingers were hot, very hot. Like he'd never been kissed on the forehead by someone as pretty as you. You were sure he had, but it was cute to see him fumbling around like he hadn't.

“I really am sorry, I don't deserve this.. you being so damn sweet, when you should really just be yelling at me.. and in your own house, I'm such a-”

“For God's sake, could you shut up?” You blurted, your hand stilling in his hair.

He looked at you with big, wet eyes, almost like a kicked puppy, he looked like he was on the brink of tears. “But I-”

You saw those pretty shining eyes, and that blabbering soft mouth. And all you could think about was shutting him up yourself. You leaned in, the bow of your lips drawn against him in a slow, but nevertheless desperate affair. Andrew sobbed a little into the kiss, but held you close. He needed this, he needed you.

You were the first to slip your tongue into it, tasting his spit. He tasted like coffee and tears. Poor man, an insomniac and depressed. What he needs now is pussy. Plenty of it, to drown his sorrows in.

You kept devouring him, feeling his hands shaking throughout, yet incredibly needy. One hand landed on your thigh, and you fell into him, groaning needily.

God, he could feel the heat radiating from you. He pulled off your kiss-swollen lips and got at your neck, quickly finding the spot that drew you in. He spoke quietly, under your ear

“This good?” He whispered, eyes half lidded. He didn't even try to hide his boner, and you could feel his precum leaking out.

“Mhm..” you whispered reverently, moving his hand up your waist.

He fumbled while unbuttoning your shirt, quickly followed by your bra before he latched onto one of your breasts, needily sucking at your nipple while his hand played with the other one. You whimpered quietly, your hand immediately moving to his hair, fingers tangling in his brown curls. His lips moved to your other nipple, sucking it passionately while his hands travelled lower on your form, undoing your work pants after a bit of a struggle.

You tugged at his hair, leading him to where he was so obviously so very giddy to lap at. He looked up at you, heart eyes so pretty in the golden hour, but ever so feral. You met his gaze with a smile. He kissed a trail down to your clit as he inched both your panties and trousers down at the same time, moving down, licking a firm stripe up your warm pussy, then digging in, and eating you like a man starved.

And god, did he eat you out. Like he was made to. Eager and adoring, he worshipped you between your legs without even pulling away to breathe. His long tongue, soft lips, and nice big fingers— what else would he use them for? Yes, guitar playing, but he'd much prefer to play you instead.

His tongue worked at the lips of your pussy, nose dug into your clit, his stubble drawing giggles from you. It quickly became his safe space. He loved it. He'd always loved it, and he loved it even more now that it was you. His sweet muse.

And his favorite melody, out of all the love songs that he's heard, were your moans. A sweet crescendo, starting soft and shy, but loud enough for all your neighbors to hear by the time his fingers were inside you. You were his, all his. And everyone had to know that. They had to know that he was devouring your decadent body as it deserved to be.

His fingers curled into you, tickling the very spots that made you squirm and squeeze his face with your thighs. You returned his heart eyes before they rolled back.

You moaned so loudly, lewdly. A noise that you didn’t even know you could make. You felt a familiar knot in your belly, the feeling of it tightening only to suddenly snap overwhelming you.

“Fuck, you- Andrew, fucking- God!” You said, frustratingly riding the waves of pleasure running through you.

He looked up, eyes shining, still so very big and needy, but drowning in your orgasm, just as you were. He curled up next to you, catching your lips in a hungry kiss. When he pulled away for air, you smiled, in a way that you hoped he adored.

“You taste like pussy, Andy” You teased with a little giggle.

“Mm… Wonder who’s fault that is, angel.”

You giggled, kissing him again. His hands grabbed your waist and moved you so you were straddling his thigh, you ground against it, unknowingly rubbing his cock while doing so. One of your hands travelled lower towards his sweatpants, slipping under the waistband and wrapping your fingers around his cock. Slowly, you stroked it, the tip of it red and glistening with precum, poking out under his clothes. Your other hand pulled his top off, consumed with the need to feel his skin against yours.

He moaned softly into the kiss, pulling your hips firmly onto his thigh and making you hump it, you moaned in return, and he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t long until you felt him twitching in your hand, his hips buckling towards you ever so slightly, you were going to stop, you wanted him in your mouth before he could finish, but you were too late. He came on your hand and on his abdomen not long after, a thick pearly coating on his slight pudge. You broke the kiss, looking down at his lap and pulling your hand up to your mouth.

He looked into your eyes, and you returned it, almost asking for permission, to which he gave you a small nod and a smile. Your eyes focused back on your hand, still covered with his seed, and you licked it off, quiet, soft moans escaping you as you swallowed his delicious sin.

“Baby, look at me,” he commanded softly, his grip in your thighs tightening. You looked at him, his eyes full of love and lust. “Good girl, now look here,” he pointed at the mess of cum on his abdomen. “Look at what you did.”

“Sorry.” You said with feigned innocence, looking at him with puppy eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet angel.” He cooed in a patronizing tone, knowing you were putting on an act. “Just clean it up for me, yeah? Be good and clean up your mess.”

You nodded, sliding off his lap and onto your knees on the floor. You leaned in close to his tummy, his dick still hard even after his climax. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling you even closer, then, you started licking him clean, his happy trail tickling your tongue in the best way possible. You swallowed him, over and over again while he moaned softly. You slowly started to run your tongue over his cock, looking up at him with your sweet bedroom eyes. He gasped. He adored having someone suck him off after he's already come. It made him see stars, truly.

“Mmmm… you like this, sweetness? You enjoy cleaning me up after you made such a mess of me?” He cooed again, hands brushing through your hair.

You nodded the best you could while his dick was stuffing your mouth up. God, his sweet whimpers and words of encouragement. They really could kill you.

You swallowed him deeper, closing your eyes, trying your best not to gag. You ended up getting a little carried away, your nose pressed hard into his pubic bone, like a puzzle piece. There was a bulge in your throat. You decided to try something out and stroked it from the outside, looking to see if it did anything for him.

And God, did it do something. He let out a noise you thought was impossible. He was there, on the couch, legs spread, back arched as you were on your knees, sucking from the tap. He pulled your hair tighter- probably not intentionally so hard, but it's not like it didn't turn you on.

You kept at it, closing your eyes, drowning in those growls and whimpers. You'd think he was some sort of slut.

He gasped, and starting fucking into your throat, pretty eyes rolling back, legs shaking. After another few languid strokes, he came down your throat, basking in the way you enjoyed this, just as much as he did.

“Good girl, fuck.. your throat, fuck,. Jesus fucking Christ, angel… so tight, Mmm—!” He babbled mindlessly as you pleasured him. God, he adored you.

Adored you so much that he came down your throat. You choked on it a little, pulling back and clearing your throat. You smiled sweetly up at him, cum dripping down your chin, then kissed the tip of his cock, warranting another little burst of cum to shoot at your face.

“Such a messy eater…” He teased lovingly.

You were in the middle of a reply when he stuffed his cock into your mouth again, holding you there.

“Shhh, princess. Nobody's ever taught you to not speak with your mouth full?” There was a smile on his face. God, was he a vision… Cheeks flushed, hair the messiest you've seen it, hands shaking, stray drops of cum on his pale skin. You started to bob your head, but he stopped you.

“Two rounds of sucking me off in a row? I'm sure you get tired. So tired. How about I just do it for you… keep your mouth around me, and I'll take care of the rest. Is that okay with you, angel?”

You gave him those puppy eyes, humming happily as a way to say “yes”.

“Mmmhm? Okay, then..”

He started to fuck into you, a little bit sloppily, his hips bucking. He was feral, truly. He moved quickly, hyperventilating, a third orgasm threatening to happen at any time. He moved faster, fucking your mouth with a surprising amount of strength for a man that had already come twice.

But it became too much, and you had to pull away to take a breath, warranting a surprisingly bratty whimper for a man acting so dominant.

“Wha- Wha- FUCK,” He belted, shooting cum onto the floor, right onto your moleskin notebook, it wasn’t much, just what was left inside of him after the last two orgasms. Your hand was still wiping your chin, and your mouth fell open.

“Jesus, sorry, I didn't know-”

“I didn't either,” he said, irrationally upset. It took him a bit to calm down. He caught his breath as he leaned back on the couch. You got up and sat next to him, gazing up into his brimmed eyes.

“Andy, you know I wanted to swallow, I really did. I want it…”

He looked back down at you, gaze softening. He leaned to your level, grabbing your chin and opening your mouth, then, moved his head on top of yours and slowly let his spit flow from his lips and onto your tongue. You smiled, a little naughtily, and swallowed. God, that was hot.

“Mmmh.” You hummed.

“That's something to swallow, isn't it?”

He leaned in and kissed your tired lips tenderly, as you tangled into him, ending up a cuddling, naked mess on your—now, filthy couch.

He moved you to lay on his chest while he played idly with your hair, his nose buried in it as well, taking in your scent in the quiet evening. His other hand traced patterns on your back, his fingers dancing carefully over your skin, almost fearing you’d shatter like a porcelain doll just from his touch.

His lips pressed onto your forehead, giving you a soft, affectionate kiss that took your breath away for a second. You looked up at him from his chest, your eyes wide and adoring. “Hi,” he murmured softly, not really thinking about what he was saying.

“Hi,” you responded, making the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“This doesn’t feel real.” He whispered softly, still caressing you with all the love in the world.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I never thought I’d actually get to hold you like this, to have been with you like we have.” He elaborated. “This was always more of a fantasy, I didn’t think it’d be real.”

“What, you thought I didn’t like you like that?” You asked, a bit incredulous.

“I knew you thought I was hot, I’m not stupid, I see how you look at me.” He sighed again, his arms tightening around you, his gaze avoiding yours. “But the… ehm, the extent of just how much you liked me was more than I thought it’d be.”

You smiled softly, your hand playing with his chest hair as you listened to him. His voice was like a melody in and of itself, every word he said a note in the symphony of your dreams.

“It’s just…” He continued, his tone even softer. “It’s like there’s steps to all this, you know? There’s finding someone attractive, then there’s wanting to- ehm, have sex with them, and then there’s just wanting to be with them, in every way possible…” He trailed off.

“Andy. What are you trying to say?” You asked, his eyes immediately focusing on yours the moment you finished your sentence.

“That I love you, angel, I have for a long time.” He finally confessed. You felt his heart speed up in his chest, he was so incredibly nervous.

“I love you, too.” You timidly whispered, then placed a quick, loving kiss on his chest. “You can calm down now, your heart is beating way too fast.” You added teasingly.

“Maybe a proper kiss will calm me down.” He teased back.

You moved carefully, crawling up to his eye level and kissing him deeply. He kissed back almost immediately, your mouths moving in tandem to make the perfect kiss. Andrew pulled back after a few seconds, his mind too crowded with thoughts to fully lose himself in you no matter how much he wanted to do just that.

“Let me take you out on a date, somewhere nice,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. His voice little more than a lovesick whisper. “If not, at least let me call you mine.”

“Yes, to both.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his hand.

“Good,” he kissed your forehead. “Sorry to change the topic like this, but I’m exhausted, wanna go to bed?”

You chuckled softly at the change of subject. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.” You argued lovingly.

“I had my fill with you already.”

“Then I guess we can go to bed, but I have to shower first.” You stood up from your cuddling position on the couch, watching Andrew follow suit not long after. “Maybe put a movie on my laptop and we can watch it afterwards?”

You looked up at him with begging eyes while holding his hand in yours, he smiled, he couldn’t say no to you, especially now.

“As you wish, princess.” He took your hand to his lips and kissed it playfully, a small giggle escaping you both. “Any movie in particular you desire to watch, your majesty?”

“Okay, cut it out,” you continued to giggle, “just choose one you like, yeah? I’m gonna shower.”

With that, you went to your bathroom to clean yourself up while Andrew went to your room and set everything up, including cleaning himself as best he could and fixing his messy, post-orgasmic appearance.

You came back from the shower after almost an hour, hair still wet, in comfy sweatpants and a tank top. You made your way to your room, waiting to see your angel. He sat there, in bed, scrolling on his phone, hair up in a messy bun. He looked nothing short of adorable— cleaned up nicely too.

Your laptop was next to him. It seems he'd already chosen a movie, Legally Blonde, for some reason. You sank next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“You like chick flicks?” You asked, with a giggled cadence.

“Nothing short of modern masterpieces, they are.” He replied, starting the movie and letting your body adjust against him. You clicked, your arms the perfect length around his waist, your lips the perfect curve against his, your nose perfectly nesting into his pulse.

You fell asleep first. Fast asleep- not stirring in the slightest. He thought your slight snores and weird murmurs were adorable. He'd much rather fall asleep to those than any movie. He closed the laptop and set it on your bedside table, his long arms holding you tight into the late hours.

He ended up having the best sleep in a while— no thoughts of upcoming concerts or snobby dinners to torment him. You somehow made it all stop. In his busy world, you were his only constant. Something he wanted to hold close to and never let go.

——

Andrew adored your face. He saw it everywhere- the pure beauty of it. He saw your beauty in the Irish hillsides. He heard your voice in every old timey love song. Everywhere, everything, it was always you.

In the early morning, he found himself gazing at you again, a long finger tracing your cheek. He sighed contentedly, completely enamored with you. His limbs tangled further into yours. This went on for about half an hour— his sweet touches and comforting, soft kisses.

Your eyes fluttered open. Your first view of the day was Andrew cupping your cheeks, his head tilted. You smiled dorkily at him, your view still unfocused.

“Morning, sleepin’ beauty” He greeted in that soothing Irish lilt of his. You responded with a groan— giving him the opportunity to scoop you up in his arms, holding you to his chest. You giggled into the firm, warm body.

“Hey!” You grogged. He pulled you even further up, paving a path of smooches along your face, whispering sweet nothings.

“So pretty when you wake up, you know that? Sweet, sweet angel… and you're all mine…” he was getting lost in you, reciting all his best praise while you were barely away from the sandman.

It took a while for you to properly wake up. When the consciousness came, you returned his kisses sloppily, hand coming up to tangle in that messy brown hair.

The kisses got more desperate and messy as you went, desperate to taste each other, to catch up on everything you've missed. You grew a little dominant— even a little frustrated. You rolled him over, warranting a whimper, then pulled away, laying on your side next to him.

“You're so needy in the mornings.”

“Huh?” He whispered hoarsely, looking up at you with half lidded eyes.

“I said you're needy in the mornings. All kisses and sweet words…”

You got onto him, warranting a little ‘oomph’ to squeeze out. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding you steadily, groaning as your thigh brushed against him.

You put your thumb in his mouth, slowly grinding and watching as he sucked it at the same pace. The little pacifier kept him quiet, even when you were ruthlessly rutting into his growing hardness.

He looked up at you with shiny eyes before his head tilted to the side, giving you a full view of his beautiful, biteable neck.

You stop grinding for a second. You ached to keep staring into those lovely breaking eyes, “Andy, look up.”

He obediently gazed up at you through thick lashes, mouth biting your thumb a little. You kept going, watching as he tried not to lose his locked stare. His hand moved to your wrist, trying to pull to take your thumb out of his mouth, you shushed him in return, pushing it in a little deeper.

“Keep it in,” you ordered softly, starting to grind on his crotch once more. He listened, lightly biting your thumb to suppress his moans. “That’s it, good boy.” You added in a sultry whisper.

Andrew’s eyes shot open, you felt his dick harden almost immediately, the size poking at you through the layers of clothing. He pulled your thumb out of his mouth, his eyes dark with lust. His hands moved to your waist and threw you onto the bed, making you whimper.

You looked up at him as he moved on top of you, caging you into the mattress with his long arms. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head with just one hand, then pushed his knee between your legs, smiling devilishly at you.

“Grind.” He ordered, his voice stern yet undeniably full of love for you. His thumb found your clit, tracing obnoxiously slow circles over it.

You obediently rubbed against his knee, the dual stimulation of his finger and your actions making your back mold into an arch. You struggled playfully against his grip, moaning softly as your hips moved.

You kept grinding, eventually losing yourself and collapsing onto him. “Awww, that's not all you have in you, is it, baby?” He teased, his grin widening.

“C’mere, let me treat you.” He spoke in a lowered octave, gently nudging you over, as if asking for permission to take you.

You let him guide you over, your eyes hungry, legs wrapping around his waist. He firmly kissed down the side of your face, sinking down to your clavicle, and getting to work, sucking at it for a good few minutes- summoning giggles that quickly turned to moans of pure desperation. When he finally pulled away, what was left of all the sucking and biting was a reddish purple mark that he blew on, the air sending a shiver down your spine.

“Was that okay, darling? I’m sure you have some turtlenecks you can wear for a couple days if you need them.” He continued to kiss down your body, his voice even more rough. “Though I’d rather you didn’t, the idea of you going out with my mark on display is so fucking hot.”

“I work at a library, I can’t just have hickeys on displa— FUCK!” Andrew sucked on your chest, intending to leave another mark while his hand had traveled down to your core again, only to insert two fingers inside you this time, thrusting away any words left in you.

He smiled as he pulled away again, blowing softly on the second mark he’d left, his eyes already scanning your body in search of a spot for the third and fourth ones, all while never stopping his fingers inside you.

His mouth found your tummy just as his thumb found your clit, you moaned loudly, trying to thrust into his fingers but getting stopped by the rest of him on his quest to mark you fully. Not like you’d complain though, you’d be lying if you said the thought of being marked by him all over didn’t turn you on.

The pattern repeated as he went lower, marking your abdomen a few more times while his fingers worked on you, getting you closer to your climax. He sucked on your inner thigh, leaving his last mark on you before replacing his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking on it while he fingered you still. You screamed from pleasure, your hands gripping the bed sheets as you felt your orgasm washing down on you in intense waves of ecstasy. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and your moans turned into whines, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, almost making out with your clit before sitting back on his heels.

He put his soaked fingers up to your mouth, you welcomed them, sucking off your essence and making Andrew smile. He took one of your legs and put your ankle over his shoulder, straddling your other one in a way that made his cock perfectly align with your entrance. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trailing them down in a path that connected all your hickeys and continued down your belly, pressing down on the weak spot right under your belly button.

You giggled, batting your lashes up at him. Truly, you wanted him to fuck you until your guts split, and the best way to get that would be to put on the innocent act— one that you had quickly learned was his favourite. Even if he knew it was little more than that.

He rubbed the tip of his cock over your soaked folds, watching as you tried to keep the little act up. And it was hard, when he was there, with his chest hair and stupid smirking pretty face. When his hair was in a side part, tossing every time he made a sudden move.

He pinned you down with his lean arms. He squeezed into you, feeling your pussy envelope him, squeezing around his cock in just the right way. He didn’t take the time to ease you in, quickly building the pace up, gritting his teeth. He fucked the woman he loved the most in the most feral way possible.

You loved this side of him, your body instinctively moving your legs to where he perfectly hit your g-spot with each needy thrust. You abruptly came after a few of these- making that your second orgasm.

But he kept going, and you kept laying there and looking so utterly fuckable. Legs spread, tits bouncing, eyes rolling back every time he hit your sweet spot.

“God, you're such a pretty thing. Wish I could just stay inside you all day, keeping me warm…”

He kept going. At this point, your eyes couldn't even keep open. Your nails dug into his back as he leaned closer to you, little half-crescents engraving into his pale skin. He was close to you now, chest sweat dripping onto your face. You could feel his hot breath and hear his beautiful moans, and feel the spit dripping out of his growling mouth.

You yelped as a strange sensation took you, snapping him out of it. You whined and wrapped your leg, that had now fallen off his shoulder, around his hips, practically begging for him to continue his thrusts. You didn't even notice at first— it was him who pulled out. He felt your squirt soak his dick, biting his lip, slapping his dick lightly to try and drain you as you squirted all over him.

“Jesus… You just do that, love?” He whispered lowly, dripping in shock— still incredibly turned on.

“No! I… I didn’t know I could…” You said softly, still trying to catch your breath.

He laughed and leaned in, kissing your cheek, “Well, I'm glad to be the one to help you find out, Mmm?”

He was silent for a few beats, then placed his hand tenderly on your cheek, “Are you okay? Can I keep going?”

“Please put it back in…” You begged.

He smiled. “As you wish, my love.”

He did exactly that, pushing back into you, getting lost in your body once more. Sweet moans escaping him as he chased his own release.

He felt his balls growing tighter, moaning in almost your key, his hot seed bursting into you. He gave you a big dorky smile, still slowly fucking in and out as his cock started to soften.

Andrew leaned in and kissed your face all over, still buried inside you, feeling your warmth around him, and, slowly, coming back to earth from the heaven that you’d taken him to. Your arms enveloped him lovingly, he melted in your gentle touch, his heart swelling with love for you. His eyes widened in a split second, realisation setting in.

“Shit, baby, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t- christ.” He mumbled apologetically, caressing your face, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear, I didn’t mean to, angel.”

You looked at him, slightly confused as to why he was apologising so much.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, slowly getting your strength back.

“I didn’t put a condom on, I’m sorry, I completely forgot, I’ll go to the store and get you the pill.” He apologised again, his voice threatening to break from the nerves.

“Andy, hey, calm down,” you smiled, caressing his face with one of your hands. “It’s fine, I’m on birth control, stop worrying.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at you with loving eyes. “Thank God,” he chuckled, kissing your lips for a split second, “still, I’m sorry, I should’ve put one on anyway when I didn’t know if you were on birth control or not.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, taking the moment to finally pull out of you, swallowing your soft whines as he did. His cum flowed out of you, the sight of it making Andrew smile darkly. He went to your bathroom and came back with a washcloth, gently cleaning you up.

“The bed’s wet, love, want me to carry you to mine?” He asked, caressing your cheek with all the tenderness in the world.

You nodded in response, then felt his arms wrap around you and carry you to the guest bedroom he’d been staying in. He laid you on the mattress, you yawned, your legs exhausted. You had to admit, you always got so sleepy after sex. Your exes hated it— but Andrew found it so endearing. He gently tucked you in, kissing your sweat-slick forehead.

“You’re so beautiful, angel. Be a good girl and get some good rest for me. You deserve it.” You reached for him with grabby hands as he threw boxers and a big knit sweater on. He smiled at the sight. “I’ll be back, okay? I just have… something to do. Go to sleep for me. Please, angel.”

So, you— being the sweet, obedient angel that you were, fell asleep after just a few seconds. He got up and washed his messy hands, then got to work on your breakfast. He decided on pancakes. Which he was able to make into somewhat perfect hearts.

He put the pancakes, along with fresh berries, on a platter and brought them in after an hour and a half or so.

He placed them on the bedside table, then gently shook you awake.

“Wake up, love, I made breakfast.” He greeted, like he wasn't deep inside you two hours ago.

You looked up at him with a hazy stare, “You can cook?” You mumbled, looking at the plate.

“Of course I can cook. What other way could I have charmed girls?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, sitting up and placing the heated platter on your lap, “No idea.”

He sat next to you, snacking on some of your berries, watching as you ate. He was possibly the biggest loverboy in the world, obsessed with everything you did.

“What?” You ask, noticing his constant puppylike stare

“I don't want to go back to my house. I want to be like this. For as long as you'll have me.”

God, was he an angel. He really thought you'd grow tired of him?

“Then I think you'll be living in this shitty apartment forever, Andrew.”

“Forever?”

“Or until it finally falls apart and the building collapses on our heads, whatever happens first.” You giggled.

“In that case we could move to mine, then.” He suggested, smiling lovingly. “After the bug problem gets fixed, that is.”

“Be nice to the bugs, technically they’re the ones that brought us together.” You teased, kissing him gently.

“I’ll tell the exterminator to be gentle when killing them.” He teased back, returning the kiss passionately.

[bbina]

chenle's eyes flicker towards the digital clock hanging by his door again for the nth time tonight

he doesn't know how long he's been waiting for your text that you're all set and ready to go to call it a night. he rereads your conversation again that ended about an hour or two ago where you clearly said "this will only take 5 minutes"

it's been longer than 5 minutes

with an irritated sigh, chenle gets up from his desk and heads towards the elevator. ready and determined to drag you out of there if that's what it would take to stop you from working

"she's going to burn out at this rate.." he spits, shaking his head as he presses the button to your floor

. . . ᝰ.ᐟ

you don't know how long you've been typing your lifespan away on your laptop in your cubicle. the rest of the team probably all went home hours ago since chenle called it a day but you couldn't care less

not that you were quoting your own boss but in times like these, time really is money

you try to not dwell in the fact that everything that has been set up carefully by your team had just been thrown out the window because of the sudden reschedule conflict caused by Just Do It Co.

in their defense, the studio was giving everyone a hard time and maybe they just came to a conclusion? or more like a compromise if you were being honest

your eyes have been stinging now. probably from staring at your screen for god knows how long now. your fingers are starting to feel numb and you could probably type away with your eyes closed since it has become muscle memory

timeline, schedule, props, timetable, products, shoot, models, timeframe, deliverables, etc.

all these words becoming worms for brains. it almost feels like ear worms corroding your train of thoughts because its like thats all the words you know right now

"y/n."

you jolt in surprise at chenle's voice

"do you even know what time it is?" he asks, voice tired but still in authority

you pause your typing and begrudgingly look at the clock that reads 1:27 AM before turning around your chair to look at him

"... it's 1:27 AM?" you say it more of a question than a statement, your voice going an octave higher

chenle sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose

"exactly. it's one in the morning and you're still working" he scolds lightly. more like a tired rasp since he should've been— no. scratch that. both of you should've been sleeping by now

you look down, unable to look at him in the eyes

"i thought it's only been 5 minutes..." you murmur

"your 5 minutes has been going on for too damn long" chenle scoffs, "you're done" he says firmly. reaching over to close your laptop for you

"but–"

"no buts" chenle objects, "get up. we're leaving"

chenle walks away first, leaving your cubicle. before he would step foot into the elevator, he turns around again

"and i'm not asking twice. i'll be starting the car. if you're not down there in 5 minutes, i'll force you out of here if i have to" chenle's voice is suddenly clear as day, sharp as a knife sending shivers down your spine

he's using that ceo voice again.., you thought to yourself as you gulp and nod your head yes and gathered your things. leaving your laptop behind since you'll be back here later in the morning anyway

you quickly rush to the elevator as you scurry off downstairs to meet him in his car but when you get down to the lobby, he was already waiting at the driveway in front of the grand doors of the office

. . . ᝰ.ᐟ

"wow you're actually on time for once. thought i'd had to drag you out of there myself" chenle says sarcastically the moment you get inside the passenger seat

you buckle your self in as you huff, crossing your arms

"well, you did threaten me back there" you retort

"and rightfully so. you wouldn't stop. you'll burn out at this rate and that will be more damage for us for what it's worth" chenle rants, eyes straight on the road. he pauses for a moment before glancing towards your direction

"you're the heart and soul of this partnership. the engine even. so if you keep going at it without any rest in between, you'll eventually break. then what happens? postponing and prolonging this entire thing, to more unnecessary things that would probably cost us more than it should. so when i say rest, take it" chenle lectures

you weakly nod your head. too tired to answer him verbally. you lean against the window as you try to relax after a long day

you could say you were used to it when chenle ran his test to test your endurance or whatever the fuck was going on in his head when you first got hired but it's different this time

you weren't just handling him. you were handling two companies all at the same time. juggling everyone's needs and approvals to keep the fire going. this partnership isn't just going to partner with itself. you all had to work for it to work

chenle glances at your direction again before he takes a sharp turn that definitely isn't the way to your neighborhood

"where are we going?" you raise your head from the window to take a look around

"places" chenle answers shortly

"at this hour?" you frown

chenle scoffs. "you made me wait for you past dinner and i'm starving"

and as if on cue, your stomach grumbles. oh right, dinner. you've been so engrossed with your work that you may or may not have forgotten to eat after the little snack JDI had graciously sent over before the storm but then again, chenle had also gotten you malatang out of the kindness of his heart (well more like pity)

"see? even you are hungry" chenle comments, biting back his laughter after hearing your stomach grumble

"just drive, boss" you mutter, too tired to argue, too tired to defend yourself and definitely too hungry to function

. . . ᝰ.ᐟ

you find yourselves at the nearest convenience store

much to your delight. cheap but good food at this hour

you and chenle were now in line at the cashier, chenle stands beside you, scrolling on his phone idly while you hold the basket filled with arrays of ready to eat meals and some junk food just because you two needed it

you subtly try to steal looks at him. he was still in his usual office clothes. designer dress shirt with the first 3 buttons now unbuttoned after a long day. his hair slightly tousled with some pieces sticking out

wait, where's his suit jacket? you could've sworn he was wearing a suit jacket

oh right. you had it earlier. he draped it over you when you fell asleep at your cubicle and you didn't even notice it on your shoulders when you bolted to the conference room where everyone was at til hyuck pointed it out. you ended up giving it back to him but he's not wearing it so who knows where it's at right now

the line had moved quickly and you were now in line at the cashier. you quickly placed everything that was on the basket onto the counter top and the clerk checked everything out

the clerk told you your total and before you could hand the company card (that you really kept in your wallet now) chenle beats you to it

he hands his cashier his black card. his personal card and pays for everything. you open your mouth to protest but chenle simply shushes you and grabs the array of food that's now on a tray courtesy to the clerk and he guides you to where the seatings are inside the convenience store

and the next thing you know, you two are at a table near the hot water dispensers for ramens and mixing up your own different ramen meals with other additions

yours had an egg and mozzarella cheese with cut sausage with tteokbokki on the side while chenle had his own concoction

the only thing you could hear was slurps. goddamn, everyone's starving

you paused stuffing down everything as you finally take a good look at chenle, who was seated beside you, slurping on his ramen. this was the first time you've seen him like this

in your type of world

chenle feels you staring and stares back while he held his ramen bowl up to his face

"what?" he asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin, "something on my face?"

"no" you reply, ".. it's just that you don't look like the type to be here" you blurt out without thinking

chenle looks at you puzzled, raising a brow at what you just said

"what? you're gonna police me for eating at a convenience store?"

"i just thought you'd rather be caught dead than being caught here at a convenience store with us.. normies"

"normies" chenle repeats, "you're saying i would rather be dead than to be seen eating here at a convenience store with you "normies".. did i hear that right?"

you roll your eyes, stabbing a piece of sausage with your lone chopstick

"you know what i mean. you're in a way different tax bracket than us so how should i know" you huff, turning away as you bite onto the sausage

a beat passes by and chenle bursts out laughing

"i can't believe you just said that" he wheezes, a hand over his chest as he calms himself down. "holy shit do you really think of me like that?"

you make a face, suddenly regretting that you even said that. in your defense, you never really saw chenle out of the office. now that you think about it, you barely know him at all. the only non-work related piece of information that you know about him is that he has a dog that he calls his princess and that's it

"i mean, i don't know you like that so don't blame me for thinking otherwise. besides, you look and probably are old money rich. you radiate vibes of that" you pout, poorly explaining your train of thought, "and this is the first time i've seen you like let... loose? i don't even know anymore"

yep. you're out of it

"this is why we need to rest no matter what" chenle comments, taking note of your tired demeanor. you were kind of slurring your words and you aren't exactly as sharp as you usually were when bantering with him

to chenle this whole moment feels vulnerable and so real

he isn't talking to his assistant right now. he's talking to you, jung y/n

"i could be resting if it weren't for jaemin and jeno making changes every 25 seconds" you grumble, your eyebrows starting to furrow at the mere thought of the spreadsheet

"dropping honorifics now?" chenle teases, "what happened to calling them sir?"

"liaison officer y/n has clocked out. this is y/n right now" you correct him, making him laugh again

"you sound drunk right now. did you get drunk off your ramen?" chenle looks at your half empty ramen bowl. you scowl at him, pulling the bowl away from him

"watch it, zhong. we're out the clock so i can say and do whatever i want" you narrow your eyes at chenle, who's honestly finding the entire conversation entertaining. it was like he was getting to know the real you right now and not his assistant

who he knows that likes iced vanilla lattes just like him. the one that gets any job done you give with no complaints (maybe after its done, then you'll start complaining like right now). the one who lives 30 minutes away from the office but still manages to make it time

his assistant that he had started driving to and from work

"do i need to remind you that i'm still your boss even when we're out the clock?" chenle pokes your bowl with his chopstick

"and i don't care anymore" you retort, "i'm so tired. my brain's fried. i think i'm out of it. i'm like in this weird headspace where i think i'm dreaming when i'm not. or i am cause you're eating ramen with me at a CU at like what? 2 in the morning? when you could be eating at a 5 star restaurant or you probably have a private chef at your house—"

"okay i think it's time to get you to bed" chenle cuts your rambling off. he's so amused right now

you hold your hand out, making him pause

"are you going to eat that?" you suddenly point your chopsticks toward his uneaten radish next to his ramen. chenle follows the direction you're pointing at

"this? you can have it if you want" chenle moves the radish near you

you smile and picked up some with your chopsticks and ate it with your ramen

chenle watches silently as you finish the rest of your bowl. this is the very first time he has seen you like this. to see you openly complain about your work and how it's clearly taking a toll on you

he suddenly remembers the time he used to make you work overtime for no reason as a test. he doesn't regret it. it's what solidified his decision to keep you but not that it was his choice. you chose to stay despite the vigorous regime

and because of your decision, he could finally get his mind and hands off of things. he doesn't have to work thrice as hard anymore. he already has a hard time managing and keeping things together with the entire company behind his back and you suddenly came into his life

a person who willingly accepted his challenge to keep up with him and actually succeeded

or maybe that's just who you are as a person

you were eating the remains of your tteokbeokki when chenle breaks the comfortable silence

"why did you stay?" he asks quietly, leaning his forearm on the table as he rests his head on it, just watching you eat

you pause, blinking at him. you were mid bite of the last piece of tteokbeokki when he asked a question

"here?" you look around, making sure he meant the place

chenle shakes his head, chuckling

"no, idiot" he chuckles, "i mean your job. the company. me. i overworked you, pushed you to your limits, made you do things that aren't exactly in your scope but you did it anyway. even dragged you to my personal trip when you were still vaguely new. you could've quit in between but you didn't and i want to know why" he explains, listing off everything you two have done together on the top of his head

you put down the half eaten piece of tteokbeokki back to your ramen bowl as you try to think of an answer

why did you stay

if you were being honest with yourself, you don't even know. maybe you do but it's not exact reasons. there aren't really much to it but somehow you stayed. maybe it's because you feel indebted to your uncle who got you the job in the first place? but even then, you still got in zhong inc. due to pure diligence and it was just a coincidence that chenle needed a personal assistant at the same time you just got hired and your uncle, being the previous partner of zhong inc. had known the right person for the job (you)

"to be honest.. i don't know" you answer truthfully

chenle's ears perk up at your answer

"i mean, my uncle did technically got me the job for me so at first i just did it because of him? but then your stupid test happened" you share, recalling everything you did

chenle waits for you to finish before he speaks

"i had a gut feeling you didn't have a test on all your employees. it just so happened i accidentally spilled coffee all over you and you were out to get me" you narrow your eyes at chenle, pointing a finger at him menacingly

to which the latter could only respond by putting his hands up in mock surrender. he then urges you to continue with what you were saying and you do

"and then somehow at every hurdle you've attempted to throw my way, i overcame them and that's when i wanted to prove you wrong. you were giving me shit that i barely understand since it wasn't in my scope! i told you about it and you just kept saying i can do it so i was like. fine. maybe i can do it and i did. then somehow miraculously i "passed" your test and the rest is history"

"don't forget to tell me the bit in history where you tweeted that you found me so fucking handsome you had to tweet a picture of me—"

"we don't talk about that" you shush him, "that was an accident and i was tired.. just like right now"

"so you don't think when you're tired? thats good to know" chenle cackles. when he calms down, he clears his throat again. "so that's why you stayed? to prove me wrong?"

"maybe" you hum, "to prove you wrong and maybe take on a challenge" you shrug, tearing your tteokbeokki apart

"besides, this will do numbers on my resume and linkedin. imagine being the executive assistant to a ceo with a big name like you? numbers" you joke, chuckling to yourself

chenle raises a brow, "you planning on working else where after?"

you shrug again. "depends but so far i actually like it here despite the chaos. so who knows? treat me well and we'll find out" you say sweetly, throwing him a smile

to chenle, it just sounded like you gave him a challenge

you suddenly hold out a piece of tteokbeokki in front of him

"you want to have this?" you ask, voice small, looking at him

chenle leans close. you can subtly feel his breath fan your face

"sure"

BUSINESS PROPOSAL ᝰ.ᐟ . . . REST

✎ . . . things aren't going as planned the way you thought it was going to be. especially the part where you find yourself falling in love with your own boss– which was definitely not part of the agreed proposal.

[ PREV / NEXT ]

✎ AUTHORS NOTE . . . might be my favorite chapter to date....... we eating good bp fans! also if ur observant then..

✎ TAGLIST . . . @mrkleelvr @jenodigital @https-dandelion @rik0shii @spacejip @yyangj3lly @multifandomania @taroddori @222brainrot @amouriu @defzcl @va1entinaa @carelessshootanonymous @onlywonb @flaminghotyourmom @do-you-remember-summer-127 @grimlinshere @yayayaiheardyouthefirsttime @hoeingthefuckup @meltinghershey @alwayswook @dutifullyannoyingstrawberrie @dudekiss3r @sibwol @mey-archive @morklee02 @httpsxnox @firydst @yuyita-rosier @ayukas @cottonjaems @monomya @neocults26 @greenyweirdo @cinneorolls @morkleesgirl @jising-jisang-jisung @hsified @kpopwh0r3 @kswluvrr @bbykaixx

[daenysx]

imagine giving james a skincare sesh where reader is seated comfortably (on his lap ehm) and he lets her put all sorts of moisturizers, face masks and even lip balm on him and he secretly LOVES it and after they eat homemade cookies and watch their comfort show

thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this, it's my skincare routine applied to james. i guess that means he's literally my boyfriend now (support my delusions please <3333) you can send me requests for james!

james potter x fem!reader, fluff

"are you ready?" you say, grinning. you carried most of your skincare essentials to living room, ready to give your tired boyfriend a nice spa day.

"yes." james walks out of the bathroom. "i washed my face."

"with the cleansing jel?"

"yes, baby." he sits on the couch next to you. you place yourself on his lap expertly, his face looks dry and clean. you lean to give him a kiss on his cheek, james settles down on couch with his back to pillows.

"okay." you say, clapping your hands. you're excited to give him a nice treating, he deserves all the best. you've never understood how boys have clear and smooth skin naturally, james certainly doesn't use as many products as you do, but he lets you do anything you want to him. skincare is like a therapy for you, quality minutes you spend on yourself. it's relaxing, taking care of your body without a single thought in your mind, you want james to experience it, too.

"let me just pull your hair back first." you say quietly, using tiny hairclips to secure his curls.

"why are you whispering?" he asks, whispering.

"i wanna create a relaxing ambience for you." you answer. "whispering is a part of it."

"oh." he teases. "okay."

you take your face toner in your hand, pouring some of it on a cotton pad. "close your eyes, jamie." you say, start applying it on his skin.

james relaxes into the pillow, his hands keep you balanced on his thighs. he likes how excited you get to take care of him, he likes being spoiled by you. your fingers are gentle on his face, almost invisible.

"now i'm gonna put on a face mask, handsome." you say, tearing the package of the mask. "it can feel a bit cold."

"that's okay." he mumbles. you place the mask on his skin carefully, adjusting the sides to cover his entire face. "what does this do?"

"um," you read the package. "it's for hydration mostly, and it has vitamin c in it."

"cool." he has no idea what vitamin c does for skin.

"we're gonna wait for 15 minutes." you say. "can i massage your hands while we wait?"

this must be some kind of special heaven for james. he gives you his hands blindly, you put on hand cream on the back of his hands and start rubbing it nicely on his skin.

james sometimes complains about how rough his hands feel, he washes them a lot and always neglects applying moisturizer. the cream feels good, like he has the skin of a baby now. you're being really sweet on him, he likes the way his muscles loosen up under your fingers.

"you're an angel." he says, a deep sound coming from his throat when you press a tight spot between his thumb and forefinger. "my fucking angel."

you smile, giving the same care to his other hand. james feels his hands go numb when you're finished. you clean the remnants of the cream on your hands before taking the mask off his face. "there you go." you put the used mask aside. "feels good?"

"i feel like a baby."

you laugh. "you're gonna be like a baby when i'm done."

it's a nice promise, james likes it very much. "i'm gonna apply some under eye cream now." you whisper. "you have no dark circles, i'm so jealous."

"it's because i actually have a sleeping schedule, lovely girl." he smiles. "something you lack, you know."

"hmm."

you massage his face a little bit before applying some moisturizer. you don't think any more products are needed for james, his skin is already perfect and the mask takes care of a lot of things. you want his face to be relaxed, so you keep your fingers on his cheeks. he smiles a lot, there are little lines on the corners of his lips and eyes that start forming. you can't help yourself, you kiss his lips softly. he immediately reacts but you pull yourself back, focusing on your work.

"what's the point of relaxing if i'm not gonna get a kiss?" james frowns.

"you'll get your kisses." you promise. "when i'm done."

applying moisturizer is so easy, his skin is glowing now. you make sure you cover every little spot on his face. "it smells good." he says. you nod even though his eyes are closed. "it really does." you say.

"and now," you put the cream away. "lip mask."

"lip mask?" james opens his eyes. "how will i kiss you if i have something on my lips?"

you laugh at his dramatics. "it never stopped you before. you always ruin my lipstick, remember?"

"not the same thing."

"come on, be a good boy for once." you tease. james parts his lips in shock. "once? this is a vile accusation."

you stop him, putting on a tiny bit of lip mask on his lips. he presses his lips together clumsily. "it tastes nice. is that strawberry?"

"you're not supposed to eat it!" you laugh. "leave some of it at least."

"mm, okay." he says. you fix his hair, and put a kiss on his cheek. you hand him the remote before leaving his lap. "i'm gonna bring you some cookies, can you pick a show?"

james nods, watches you clean up the mess through sleepy eyes. his skin has never felt this soft, he wants to pinch his own cheeks. he opens up the show you both like as he waits for you.

you come back with a plate full of cookies. james pulls you into his lap again. "i'm gonna eat just one." he says smugly. "i can't ruin my lip mask and i don't want crumbs on my face."

you laugh. "you're getting really good at this skincare thing."

"thanks to my angel." he says, he kisses your cheek three times. "i love you so much."

"i love you, too, baby." you say, your hand in his curls. "i can do it anytime you want."

"good, because i don't think i can go on without this anymore." he says like it's so obvious. "now, i remember i was promised kisses."

you settle down on his lap. "i don't wanna ruin your lip mask."

"it's not ruining, babe." he disagrees. "i'm willingly sharing my lip mask with you."

you laugh until your chest hurts.

[slytherinshua]

CHOCOLATE CAKE

genre. fluff. slight hurt/comfort. warnings. exams/exam stress mentioned. crying. brief mention of drinking/partying. light profanity. food (cake hehe). mentioned that reader wears makeup. intak cheers you up!! pairing. intak x fem!reader. wc. 1.4k. request. no. a/n. for my kyo @blue-jisungs <33 ilysm and i'm so proud of you, ik you've worked so so hard <33

By the time your bus was almost to your stop to get off, the tears had dried on your cheeks. You felt absolutely exhausted, and there was nothing you wanted more than to get home and just sleep. Exam season was always stressful, but the past month had been a living hell.

You didn’t exactly do great on your midterms, despite studying almost every second you were awake. It frustrated you. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t seem to get the high marks that you strived so hard for. Your friends seemed to pass so easily, some of them not even bothering to study in advance. While they had all gone out drinking or partying now that it was the last exam day, you were prepared to study more tomorrow in order to retake exams next week.

You had cried all day— after one of your more stressful exams, after getting a bad mark back on an earlier exam, at lunch when your friends asked you how you had done. It was both embarrassing and exhausting. You were so, so tired.

You felt numb and mindless as you grabbed your bag and got off the bus. The air was cold and sharp, but the breeze was welcome. Even the shiver that ran up your spine as you stepped onto the pavement wasn’t a bother. It allowed you to breathe. The dark cloudy sky seemed to be mirroring your mood, and you found a small comfort in that. 

You didn’t bother to knock or announce your presence at all when you reached your apartment. You didn’t have the energy to talk; your entire body feeling sluggish and slow as you dropped your bag on the chair and shuffled out of your boots.

“Fuck- Did I not set the timer?! No, no, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

The voice of your boyfriend startled you at first before you registered the familiar tone and relaxed, a whisper of a smile even playing on your lips. He hadn’t said anything about stopping by today, but given his love for surprising you, you should have expected it. You weren’t quite ready to show yourself to him, though, so you made your way quietly to the bathroom, still able to hear him talking to himself in the kitchen.

“Chocolate, chocolate… melt for… 30 second intervals? She likes chocolate- so 2 packets? Yeah.” 

You wiped off any makeup that had survived your many crying sessions and washed your face of the tear stains and exhaustion of the day. Once you changed into pyjama pants and one of Intak’s stolen hoodies, you finally felt at ease. The weight of exams and the thought of retakes still looming over your head wasn’t something you could ignore, but just for tonight you willed your brain to not focus on it. Just for tonight, you deserved to rest.

You shuffled to the doorway of the kitchen, still trying to be as quiet as possible. Intak had his back turned to you, and didn’t notice your presence at all as he worked near the stovetop. The smell of chocolate cake and cherries reached your nose, and your chest felt warm. Intak always knew your favourite comfort foods and the best ways to cheer you up after a long day. 

You didn’t realize until now just how much you had missed him. As you watched him scurry around the kitchen, completely oblivious to your figure in the doorway, you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. You missed his hugs and his kisses. You missed your late night talks and when you would game together where he would let you win on purpose. You missed telling him how much you loved him and watching his eyes brighten. 

Given how busy you were studying and preparing for exams, you barely had time to see him in the past 2 weeks. He would send you encouraging text messages in the morning, and you would text him during your breaks, but most of the time you had to keep your phone far away from you and on Do Not Disturb to keep your focus. 

You missed him so much that it was almost hard for you to keep watching him silently when you knew that he would hug you as soon as he was aware you were there. But he soon turned around to transfer a bowl to the sink, and his eyes quickly met yours and froze. You watched as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape before turning up into a big grin a second later.

“You’re back!” He chucked the dishes into the sink and practically ran over to you, capturing you in his arms and lifting you slightly off the floor. “I thought the exams would swallow you whole, I missed you so much.” He mumbled in your ear, prompting a smile to form on your face.

“Me too.” You sighed in content. The feeling of Intak’s arms around you was one of your favourites in the entire world. From how close you were, you could smell his woody cologne as well as his gentle natural scent peaking through. He hugged you tightly, swaying softly from side to side until you made moves to escape his embrace.

“One sec!” He rushed to the other room, coming back with a bouquet of pink and white flowers. “For my academic weapon of a girlfriend.” 

You were going to protest about the academic weapon part, but with his cheesy grin plastered on his face as he held out the flowers to you, you didn’t have the heart to. You knew he wouldn’t accept any objection from you anyway. In his eyes, you were nothing less than perfect.

You ranted about the past week to him while he finished decorating a chocolate cake, discouraged by the fact that you would have to retake some exams. But Intak would only say how proud he was of you for making it through the stressful month.

“You worked really really hard, and I’m so proud of you, baby. The scores don’t reflect your self worth, okay?” He reassured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead after you had told him everything.

You wouldn’t have believed the words coming from anyone else, but he was your boyfriend and you knew he wasn’t even capable of lying to you (after all, he had tried in the past, and you had caught him every time).

Seeing Intak’s smile and hearing his words of encouragement gave you back energy for almost an hour, but you felt a crash of tiredness again once you settled on the couch with him to eat cake and snuggle.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet. I’ll have to carry you to bed.” Intak joked, watching you sleepily blink with love in his eyes. Despite being worried about how hard you had pushed yourself, he knew the best thing he could do was just cheer you on and let you recharge with hugs. He wouldn’t care even if you fell asleep on his arm and it was sore for hours the next day.

“You’re comfortable.” You argue in a mumble, only melting into his arms more. You were practically a puddle on top of him— letting your entire body relax and trusting that Intak would let you sleep.

“My girl is that tired, hm? Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?” He spoke softly, brushing your hair out of your face and making sure the blanket covered your shoulders.

“You’re more comfortable than my bed.” You whispered, already teetering on the edge of consciousness. You heard Intak scoff, and though your eyes were closed, you could picture his adoring smile perfectly. You were half asleep by the time his response fell on your ears, and entirely too tired at that point to comprehend his words. You smiled when you felt him press a kiss to your temple, and finally allowed yourself to slip away to your dreams after the long day.

With Intak by your side, the stress of your life seemed to lessen, and your mind stopped racing as much. You let yourself relax and just enjoy being with him, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

↳ p1h taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @amara-mars,, @nyukyujs

[zweig-eater]

MESSY LOVE patrick zweig

you stared at him blankly as he rambled out some other excuse for his behavior. you had been fighting too long, and you were numbed and tired of it all. your head hurt and your heart was aching. after all this time, still nothing had been accomplished. patrick still believed he was in the right and he was even going to great lengths to make you believe that as well.

“you know, you are actually being quite selfish” he said, and that one line caught your attention back.

“how fucking dare you patrick… you are un-fucking believable.” you spit back at him with tears stinging the waterline of your eyes. you continued, only fueled by the hurt settling in your chest. “i’m selfish? for wanting to be more then some fuck buddy you use to get off?” your words felt like daggers as his gaze dropped. “i’m selfish? for thinking we could be something real? for holding you to promises you have made?”

as you laid into him, your head was pounding, eyes burning, and your body just felt entirely weakened. this was all getting to you, and you just wanted to sink into some sort of comfort and be safe for the night.

“can't you see how bad you're hurting me?” you asked, almost desperately, as a tear finally fell from your eye; and you sat, collapsing down on your bed, giving into the exhaustion this fight had forced you into.

and just like that patrick was on you. his feet moved so swiftly you hardly noticed before he was kneeling right in front of you. his hand reached up to your cheek and held the side of your face, fingers hooking around to the back of your neck and stabilizing you.

“hey, hey, look at me… im right here. i’m sorry baby, i’m so sorry” he pleaded with you. his rigid and cocky exterior cracking and falling immediately at the clear sign of you in pain. he was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your knees hanging off the bed. his free hand wrapped around the back of your calf, sweetly stroking it.

you grabbed at his shoulders, fisting his shirt, both pushing him away and pulling him in. even you weren't sure where or how close you wanted him. on one hand, he was the only person who you wanted comforting you right now. but on the other hand, he was the reason you were in this state in the first place.

“n-no, no youre not” you refuted with tears streaming profusely now. “you’re not sorry pat, you don't even ca-”

“y/n i'm in love with you” he cut you off before you could finish whatever you were trying to say. before you could continue thinking any longer that you werent the most important thing in his life. you were, and he knew that. and it scared him. he was never the type to fall in love, or to trust, or to be entirely vulnerable with someone. but you brought it out of him, and he was done running from that feeling.

your eyes met his, widening at his confession. you were staring at him, your mouth slightly agape as your fuzzy brain wrecked itself to try and wrap around what he had just said.

“you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. and i'm an idiot for letting you spend even a minute not knowing that” his hands settled around your waist, arms resting on the bed. his fingers lightly traced your lower back and lulled you ever so closer to him. “you have set every inch of my being on fire and i refuse to imagine living a day of my life without you. i’ve never been in love, and it terrifies me.. i’m scared of what i might do to ruin this, or how i might make you hate me. but i know now that i’m willing to risk it. i’m so ready to learn all the beautiful and messy aspects of true devotion with you. because you are worth it. god, y/n, you are worth fighting any amount of fear or pain for.” he finished, eyes welling with water himself now.

you stayed silent. you let every word he said soak into your skin, then your muscles, then your heart. gently, your hands raised, one resting in the crook of his neck, the other finding his curls. together they guided his face up and towards yours. He watched you so closely, as he let you move him into you. his lips quivered with longing as they inched closer to yours. a faint tearful sigh escaped his lips just as they latched onto yours.

his hands gripped you with the force of a man clinging to a life support, yet still with the gentleness of you being a delicate porcelain doll. the kiss held so much passion you thought you might both catch on fire. burning with love and the need for the other to feel how important they were. your tongues swirled together as if trying to get infinitely closer to the other. as you pulled away, both your cheeks stained with tears, patricks lips quirked up into a smile for the first time all night.

“you’re an asshole” you told him, gently pushing his shoulder and grinning dumbly at him. his eyes gleamed at you, so full of love, his pupils were blown out and everything. “why couldnt you just say that before we wasted all night arguing?” you asked, giggling and hooking your hands under his arms, tugging him lightly to join you on the bed.

“where’s the fun in that?” he quipped back sarcastically as he crawled onto the bed and hovered above you, pushing you on your back. “you’re so beautiful” he whispered, dazing at you, like you had never seen before. “i’m so sorry baby, i shouldn't have argued… let me make it up to you” he smirked as his head dipped down and planted a sweet but wet kiss on your neck.

as his head lifted and eyes locked back onto yours. you swallowed any fear left in your throat and returned his confession with how you truly felt about him. “i love you pat,” you told him. the words sounded so sweet he needed his lips back onto yours to taste them.

“i love you baby, so much” was the last thing he said before he kissed you again, this time with a new level of tenderness.

[emmiesoverthemoon]

don't wanna break up again

Pairing: kang daesung x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: daesung, an everloving and sensitive soul, grows tired of your emotional negligence. you, an exhausted and numbed soul, grows tired of his overbearing emotions. but were you ready to let him go?

Tags: angst. thats it really. done in collaboration with @petersasteria ! be sure to read her part two :)

i'm too much for you, so i really gotta do the thing i really don't wanna do, no i don't, no i don't.

You once believed there would never be a day when the sound of his laughter would not soften the edges of your world.

Daesung had a smile like sunlight filtered through a window in winter—gentle, subdued, and quietly insistent. It was not ostentatious joy. It was something deeper, something that felt earned, cultivated through pain and still able to bloom. He loved with a kind of raw tenderness that was rare in men, unashamed in its vulnerability. He gave everything; even when there was nothing left to give.

But love like that becomes heavy over time. When one person gives and the other forgets how to receive, something sacred begins to fray.

You could feel it happening. Not all at once, but slowly. Like frost creeping along a windowpane.

It was not that you ceased to care about how Daesung felt. It was that caring all the time became exhausting.

And he—he felt everything so deeply. Every shift in your tone, every sigh you thought went unnoticed, every glance that avoided him. He collected your indifference like bruises beneath his skin. And still, he kept trying.

But you? You began to resent him for it.

It was a Tuesday when you said it.

He had been crying again. Silent tears this time, sitting at the edge of the bed, hands clenched in his lap like a child trying not to fall apart.

“Are you crying again?” you asked, the words bitter and brittle. “For God’s sake, Daesung, can you just grow up?”

He flinched, like the deepening crack in his heart was breaking him from the outside as well. You saw it—the way his mouth trembled, the way his eyes darted away from you like your gaze was a blade. But he said nothing. He merely nodded and swallowed his pain like he always did—like he believed he had no right to speak it aloud anymore.

And the worst part? You felt nothing.

No guilt. No sorrow. Only weariness.

You were tired of playing savior. Tired of holding space for emotions that never seemed to end. Tired of walking on eggshells around him. You had been the one to steady him, again, and again, and again, and it had left you hollow. You began to believe that he needed too much, and that you—whatever was left of you—was not enough.

So you began to retreat.

You stopped asking if he was all right. You stopped waiting up for him when he came home late, eyes swollen and voice barely audible. You stopped reaching for him beneath the sheets.

Daesung noticed, of course. But he stayed. Because even after the treatment he would endure, he would rather lose the world than lose you.

Because the thought of going through that pain again—waking up alone, hesitantly eating in silence, crying so hard his chest would seize—terrified him more than your silence did.

He told himself it was a phase. That you still loved him, just differently. That if he held on, if he was patient, he could earn back the version of you who used to smile when he entered a room.

But you—the you he needed—was not coming back.

“I started therapy.”

Daesung told you one evening, his voice low—measured, yet fragile, like porcelain held too tightly.

You blinked at him, unmoved by his confession.

“Oh,” you replied, the word hollow, barely a syllable. “That’s good. You probably should have done that a long time ago.”

There was no softness in your tone. No acknowledgment of the courage it must have taken him to reach that point. No flicker of empathy for the boy who once begged for your comfort in the quiet hours. It was just another sentence to pass the time. Another inconvenience to endure.

He watched you carefully then, his gaze lingering on the features he used to trace with reverence. As if he were trying to find a memory in your eyes. A ghost of the woman who used to hold him when the nights got too loud. But she was gone. Had been for some time. Only her outline remained—cold, composed, untouchable.

And perhaps, in that very moment, he remembered what you both used to be—

There had been a night, long ago, during the early bloom in the evolution of your love—before distance, before disillusion, before resentment had made a home between your ribs.

You had found him curled on your apartment floor, pressed against the kitchen cabinet as if the smooth grain of the wood might steady his breath. He had called you from a payphone because he had been too ashamed to let his sobs echo in his own apartment walls, too ashamed to let his emotions cling to the paint donned to the interior. He was supposed to be a man. His voice had trembled, thick with apology and grief, and still, he had found the words to say, "I’m sorry for being like this."

And you—God, you had run to him the second he released his cries into the speaker. You had dropped everything, keys in hand, shoes forgotten, panic blooming behind your sternum. You had fallen to your knees beside him and gathered him into your arms like he was something sacred. He had folded into you like paper, trembling with the force of whatever storm lived inside his chest, and you had held him through it—his tears soaking your sweater, your hand smoothing through his hair as though you could soothe the years of sorrow he had carried long before he met you.

"You’re not too much," you whispered then, voice cracking as you kissed his temple. "You’re not broken. I promise to stay, even when it gets hard. I’ll stay, even when you forget how to ask me to."

And he had believed you. And for a long time, so had you.

—But still, he did not cry.

Instead, he turned inward. He sat in clean, unfamiliar rooms and poured his heart into the hands of strangers. Week after week, he unravelled the knots of your love, piecing together what it meant to survive it. He spoke aloud the things he used to only whisper in the dark. He began to unlearn the belief which was woven so deeply into his psyche that needing softness made him weak.

And somewhere in that painful excavation of self, he stumbled upon the truth he had been too afraid to say aloud.

He had been fighting for someone who had already left the battlefield.

“I think I’m done, I’m sorry.”

He said it without ceremony, one evening when the weight of your silence pressed too heavily against the walls.

You looked up from your phone, distracted. The words did not land right away.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m done with begging. Done with aching. Done with handing my heart to someone who looks at it like it’s a burden she never asked to carry.”

There was no fury in his tone. No drama. Only pain. The kind that settles deep in the bones and makes everything feel distant.

You parted your lips, something instinctive rising to your throat—but there was nothing there. No rebuttal. No apology. Just the gnawing realization that he meant every word.

And then he left.

The silence that followed was not unfamiliar, but it was devastating in a new, foreign way.

It was different from the comfortable quiet you used to share—the kind that wrapped around you like a warm blanket, full of unsaid I love yous. This was a brutal, echoing kind of emptiness. One that made every room feel cavernous. Every breath feel too loud.

The bed stayed cold. The food on your plate remained untouched. The walls seemed to hum with all the things you never said.

You found yourself reaching for your phone in the evenings. Just to check. Just to see if maybe—

But he no longer texted.

No more voicemails filled with choked apologies. No more late-night calls. No more quiet, desperate attempts to find you again in the ruins.

He had let you go.

And now, the grief he used to wear like a second skin had come to live in you. It nestled beneath your ribs, insidious and unrelenting. It crept into your hands, made them tremble when you thought of his voice. It whispered, you pushed him away, over and over, until the voice no longer sounded like a stranger’s—but your own.

You never wanted it to end like this. You never wanted to break up again.

But you did.

And this time, it was final.

This time, you were the one left behind.

eternal sunshine taglist: @sylviavf @amyyforshort @patheticgirl127 @multifanxtvshows @whotfiscamellia @sherxoo @sevendaysummer

permanent taglist: @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @burlesquerade @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo

[luvlystarr]

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Prompt: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Reader, meet-cute with a beautiful stranger, based off of Beautiful Stranger by Laufey!

Content: Fluff

This has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I just wanted to get it done with 😭 Also thank you so much for the huge support on my last post!🤍🤍

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Everyday has always been the same. Get up, get ready, go to work, go back home, sleep and repeat. Nothing much changed in your routine.

So, there you were again, standing in the middle of the train station while patiently waiting for your ride to work. It was early in the morning and your mind was still numb from the very little sleep you had. You were still trying to make sense of your surroundings.

It didn't take long for a voice to ring throughout the station, which came from the speakers, indicating that your train is finally coming. Everyone hustled around, trying to be first ones in and find a spot.

The train appeared and halted in front of you. Once the doors opened, people around you began rushing in. You were pushed around relentlessly, but you had no energy to stop them. Unfortunately, you letting them push you around left you with no spots for you to sit, forcing you to stand. As much as you hated the idea, it was probably best knowing if you chose you sit you would've fallen asleep and missed your stop. So, you held onto the metal pole next to you, making sure not to topple over once the train began to move. Time seemed to slow down, it felt like it was taking ages for you to get to your stop. Your body was begging for a wink of sleep and you tried your best to distract yourself by thinking of random things. Ranging from work to useless information you found on the internet. Although it ended to no avail. Your eyelids began to feel heavy and your head began to nod as you slowly drifted into sleep. The grip you had on the metal pole loosened ever so slightly, leaving you vulnerable to any sort of movement from the train. Half of your body was asleep while the other half was awake, desperately trying to stop succumbing into the drowsiness. You didn't even notice someone stand next to you, also holding onto the same pole. Just then, the train abruptly shook which caused your body stumble over. Your eyes instantly shoot wide open, feeling the exhaustion switch to panic. Your hand's grip on the pole tightened but your body was already sent flying forwards. Before you could face plant on the floor, somebody's hand catches you and you land on that person's chest. A rush of heat quickly crept up your face. You pull away, flushed from embarrassment, as you look up to see you saved you. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—" Your words instantly died in your mouth as your eyes landed on the most handsome face you've ever seen your entire life. The man's brown eyes looked down at yours, a small grin on his face from amusement. His chuckle reverberated from his chest, which sounded so heavenly in your ears. You were left dumbfounded, staring at the most beautiful stranger you've ever encountered. "It's fine, don't worry about it. You okay, though?" The man asked, his British accent becoming apparent. God, even his voice sent shivers down your spine. You meekly nodded your head, feeling your blush get worse. "Yeah, I'm good," you awkwardly chuckle. If only you had put more effort into your appearance, you probably look half dead right now from the lack of sleep. He smiled once more and you could've sworn your heart dropped. Now your nerves were all over the place. All because of some random handsome guy who saved you from embarrassing yourself. His hand eventually leaves you but lingered for a bit before fully pulling away. The doors opened and the train came to a stop. You look outside and notice it was finally your stop. Once again, people began hustling outside, pushing you around once again. But before you could leave, you give one last look at the man. You give him your best smile, despite still feeling tired, and awkwardly say, "Thanks for catching me, I would've fallen face first on the floor." You regretted saying that the moment you said it. In your entire life you’ve never heard your voice so shaky and weird. Your words were followed by another chuckle, which the man returned. "No problem," he said, his own smile becoming bigger. Although you didn't want to say goodbye, you didn't want to be late to work either. You give him a small nod before getting off of the train. The doors behind you close. Instantly, you feel stupid for not even asking for his name. Just before the train could leave, your quickly look back, only to find him staring right back at you.

There was something special about him, besides the fact that he was absolutely attractive. It was as if there was an invisible string that bound you to him. So many questions flooded your mind about him and you couldn't help but feel the need to know more about him.

The two of you were left standing there, staring at each other through the doors of the train before it began to move. Your eyes followed him, watching him give a small wave before the train finally left your view. After another moment, a disappointed sigh leaves your lips. Time to face reality again. He'll most likely remain a stranger until you encounter him again. Well, if you ever encounter him again. You get to work and clock in. Your job is a barista at a small cafe that usually isn't busy, which is pretty simple enough. You liked the quietness and the constant smell of coffee and bread.

When you finished making another customer's drink, your manager called you over, asking if you can be cashier for a bit while she quickly does something. Of course, you agree and take over as soon as possible. You wait for the next customer while mindlessly staring at the register in front of you. The sound of the door opening caught your attention and you quickly pull yourself together for the customer. "Hello! Welcome to..." Once again, your words failed to leave your lips as you look up to meet the exact same man from the train. He let out an amused smile. "Oh, it's you! What a coincidence," he laughed. You returned his laugh as you feel your face flush. At that point you could’ve died from embarrassment. "Yeah, this is where I work. So, what can I get you?" You ask him

No way this is happening. You had already embarrassed yourself enough and you can’t handle anymore dumb memories to keep you up at night.

“Just a medium coffee," he responds.

You put that in the register before finally asking him, "Can I get a name for that?" "Kyle Garrick." You nod your head. Oh, you were definitely going to remember that name from now on. "Alright! That'll be $4.90." You hand Kyle the card reader and he inserts his card in. Once he was done, you hand him the receipt and gesture him to the side where he can wait. You quickly go and make his drink, making sure every little detail is perfect. It was such a simple drink yet your hands trembled at the thought of making a mistake. Once you were done making the most perfect medium coffee you could make, you quickly turned back to Kyle.

“Order for Kyle!” You called out.

Kyle came over and took the drink from you. His fingers brushed against yours in such a brief moment, in your perspective it didn’t seem accidental at all. Yet somehow that small touch left your mind completely blank.

He smiled at you again. “Thanks.. (Name).” You could tell he got that off of your name tag from the way he quickly glanced at it. You nodded your head and returned his smile with a sheepish one.

Before Kyle could leave he took out a small folded piece of paper and slid it across the counter to you.

“Are you gonna be here tomorrow?” He asked.

You were taken aback by that question but you were still quick to answer. “Yeah, I work from Monday to Friday,” you answered.

Kyle nodded his head. “Then I’ll see you again tomorrow. I’d like to stay and chat for a bit but I gotta go. Thanks for the coffee,” he said while gesturing to the cup in his hand. With that, he takes his leave. You quickly took the little paper and read what was written inside.

Not even a mere millisecond passed when you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Your face burned red as you stared at it for God knows how long.

It was his number.

If you could, you would’ve quickly pulled out your phone and saved it but you didn’t have it with you since your boss makes no one has their phone on hand while working.

“Geez, your gonna burn a hole through that paper if you keep staring like that,” your coworker chuckled, snapping you out of your trance.

You hastily shove the paper into your pocket. “Holy shit, you scared me,” you uttered.

Your coworker continued to laugh at you. “You know, you can be so oblivious sometimes. Did you even notice the way he started at you while you made his coffee? He looked like he got love at first sight.”

Hearing that made your heart jump like crazy. It was true, you didn’t notice at all and just assumed he was looking somewhere else.

“Why don’t you chase after him? You never know, he could be your future husband,” your coworker grinned mischievously.

“Shut up…” You grumbled, moving past her to try and focus back on your work.

[kengan-daddies]

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma X Motherly! Older Female Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4

Anime : Baki: Son of Ogre Character : Baki Hanam Warning : Mention of child abuse, child neglect, possessiveness, possessive love

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Female Reader

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Female Reader

The rice cooker beeped, the smell of grilled fish hummed throughout the apartment, and the ingredients for miso soup laid out on the countertop everything was already chopped and ready, and the water was just now starting to boil. The sound of the TV playing in the background was a constant noise, the male news reporter speaking about the weather and anything else that may be of importance as of late. You sighed tiredly as you dumped the vegetables for the miso soup into the boiling water, placing the lid over it so that it could cook properly. You opened the grill on the stove, seeing the fish was just starting to brown. You closed it, looking over at the rice cooker and checking the timer.

It had a good few minutes left in it, you huffed as you walked over to the dining table, pulling a chair out you sat down, propping your chin up in your palm as you rested. 'As soon as this food is done and we eat, I'm taking my tired ass to bed.' You thought as you yawned. You looked over towards the living area, seeing Baki sitting at the small table, his back to you as he sat hunched over, papers scattered over the table as he worked on his homework. He was still in his school pants, he got comfortable, taking off his school top and folding it neatly he placed it on the couch, leaving him in his muscle shirt. You smiled at the sight, happy to see him living the life of a teen.

'He deserves to live a normal life, coming home and doing homework while mom cooks and cleans.' You thought as you watched him scratch his head in confusion and irritation at whatever he was struggling with on his homework. Your smile slightly faded as your gaze trailed along his muscular arms, seeing the scars that littered his skin. 'All those scars, all those years, trying to beat his father, gain his mother's love, to gain their affection... It's so unfair, it's so wrong.' You thought, still bitter with the bitch that was his unfortunate mother. You hated her so much, just thinking about her made your blood boil.

'That stupid bitch had the audacity to tell me, not to interfere with her son's life. "I'm his mother, so it's my job to oversee him how I see fit." ... That bitch... Poor Baki, that sad look on his face as he stared at me, the poor boy felt so bad about getting me in trouble with his mother. But he had no reason to feel bad, I would've faced his mother down a million times if it meant seeing him smile.' You thought your gaze downcast at the table surface, your other hand drew lazy circles with the pad of your pointer finger, you did it for so long till the tip of your finger felt numb. A large scared hand gently weighed on top of yours, stopping your hand. You blinked in surprise at the sudden hand, looking up you saw Baki standing behind you, a small smile on his face but worry could be seen in his eyes.

"You shouldn't do that, you'll wear down your skin." He said his hands scooping yours up in between his palms as he held your hand. "Your wrist will wither earlier with age, causing arthritis." He explained as he held your hand in one palm while the other rubbed your wrist gently. "You need to take care of your hands, Mom, you only got two, and they're beautiful." He said gently, his voice soft yet firm. "They're strong with pride, they're tough with resilience, yet they're still so soft with tenderness, still beautiful with love. Take care of your hands, Mom." He said. You stared up at him, your brain processing what he said, you looked down at his hand and you placed your other hand over his, stopping the rubbing on your wrist. "What about your hands, Baki, they're covered in scars and hard before their time."

You said, your fingers rubbing over his knuckles and the scars on his hand. He smiled. "These are the hands of a warrior who fights to protect, who fights to get stronger, who fights for others... My hands are supposed to be hard so that I can help you." He said. Your eyes softened and your rubbing stopped. "The strength, yes, the scars, no... Your hands are supposed to be still delicate yet strong, that wasn't a choice you were given." You said. Your hand tightens around his. He chuckled as he leaned down, his nose nuzzling into your hair. "It may not be, but it was a choice I chose to carry." He said. It was silent for a while, the both of you just enjoying each other's company, the sounds of the TV, the rice cooker, the water boiling, the sound of sizzling... All of that was the sound of home. This is what home was supposed to sound like.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

The house was quiet, the kitchen was clean, everyone was in their beds asleep... Except for one... Baki was up in his room, sitting on the floor deep in meditation, his ears open to everything around him. The crickets outside, the buzzing of the street lamps, the fluttering of the moth's wings, the sound of your even breaths as you slept... All these noises surrounded him, calming him. He opened his eyes and he stood up, a calming aura surrounding him. He stood there, staring at a pencil on his dresser, then in the blink of an eye he threw a sharp kick, he stood there for a moment, his eyes trained on the pencil on his dresser, watching, listening... He lowered his leg he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the sound of wood splitting sounded out, and he exhaled. He opened his eyes, looking at the pencil that was cut clean in half from the lead to the eraser.

He walked over to it silently, staring down at it. 'Soon, soon I'll be strong enough to protect you mom... I'll keep you safe, I won't let him learn of you, and even if he does, I'll be more than ready to protect you.' He thought, a determined glare in his eyes, the thoughts of the demon back flashing across his mind. He broke from his thoughts when he heard your breathing change, he looked over at his room door, listening intensely at the sound of you leaving your bed and tiredly shuffling over to your bathroom. He looked out the window when he heard a tap, his eyes sharp and on the defensive, but he relaxed when he saw who it was.

'Ah, master... It's good to see you... Sadly, I can't let you in... Mom would freak.' He thought in amusement as he bowed his head in respect at the roach outside on his window. He stood up straight once he heard it take flight, he sighed tiredly as he walked over to his bed, he laid down in it, his arms crossed behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. 'Tomorrow, I should start moving my clothes over here... I like it here better than 'home', this is an actual 'home' and not some cheap imitation. It's real... And I intend to soak it up to the fullest.' He thought. He looked over at his room door for a moment, before he rolled over on his side, his back facing the door, his body relaxing and his breathing evening out.

His door cracked open, and you looked in seeing him in bed asleep, you smiled as you walked over towards him. 'She's coming in... Why?' He thought as he lay there. You stopped by his bed, a smile on your face as you reached out to stroke his hair. 'She's stroking me?... I mean I'm not complaining, it feels really good... Damn, that's actually a really nice thing to feel... It's real relaxing... I could...' His thoughts trailed off abruptly, as the sound of light snoring took its place, you giggled softly. You just had a feeling that he was having a hard time sleeping, this seemed to prove it. 'A woman's intuition is never wrong.' You thought.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

You were in your bathroom, doing your hair, you were already dressed, makeup already on. You were deep in concentration making sure that your hair looked nice. You nearly jumped when Baki poked his head. "OOH!! You scared me." You said as you placed your hand over your heart, you stared at him in the mirror. He smiled sheepishly at your reflection. "Sorry about that." He said. You sighed as you went back to doing your hair a small smile on your face. "Good morning, Baki." You said, he smiled. "Good morning, mom." He said. He sounded so happy, just saying those few words and it made your heart flutter. You checked over your hair one last time nodding in acceptance as you turned towards the door.

He shuffled backwards as you walked out and he followed you like a curious child. You smiled sweetly as you walked down the stairs. "Did you sleep well?" You asked him as you walked towards the kitchen, he followed close behind. "Yeah, I did actually, I slept like a baby" he said in a pleased tone, he really did. It was probably the best sleep he ever gotten actually. You chuckled as you opened the fridge getting out eggs, green onions, and sausages. "That's good, I'm glad to hear that, Baki. I want you to always try and get a good night's sleep." You said, balancing all the objects in your hands as you closed the fridge with your hip. He watched you walk over to the counter as you placed everything down.

You reached up, and pulled the square-shaped frying pan down from its hook, putting it on the stove, and turning the heat up to 8. "Baki?" You asked. He perked up. "Yeah?" He questioned. "Can you get me the oil? It's over in the pantry, top shelf on the left." You said as you washed your hands, getting out knives, forks, and bowls. He nodded his head as he walked over to the door, opening it his eyes scanned the food that was inside. It was all sorts of foods, from easy prep to homemade. Seasonings and additives, condiments, and sugary coatings. His eyes soaked in everything as he looked up, seeing the oil. 'Damn, it's right where she said it was too.' He said as he reached up, his eyes widened when he realized that he nearly had to get on his toes to reach it.

'Wait, she reaches up here every day? She must get a chair or something to help her, why placed it so high though?' He thought as he pulled the bottle down. He closed the door and stepped over to you. He watched as you cracked the eggs into a large bowl, he saw 4 yolks in the bowl and you were reaching for another. "Here you go." He said holding the bottle. You looked over your shoulder and you smiled. "Yes, you can put some in the frying pan, the eye is already on." You said as you went back to cracking eggs. He walked to the stove taking the top off before he poured enough into the pan, watching as the oil slowly coated the bottom of the skillet.

'She's making breakfast for us... Should I ask her now?... I'm not sure why I'm hesitant on asking... Why am I so nervous?... I'm just gonna ask a simple question, and hopefully, she'll say yes.' He thought. He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt your hand touch his arm, gently pushing him to the side, he stepped over looking at you in question. "You wouldn't move when I asked you to, so I just decided to push on in, sorry about that." You said with a sheepish but teasing smile. He relaxed against the counter, his elbow resting on the top as he leaned into it. "Sorry, I was just thinking." He said in a soft voice. You looked over at him, the sound of sizzling loud as you poured in some of the yolk into the frying pan.

"Thinking about what?" You asked him. He seemed nervous, his other hand picking at the underside of the counter's edge. "Would it be an issue... If I moved in?" He asked tentatively. You stared at him for a moment before you looked over at the egg, you scooped your spatula under the omelet, rolling it up carefully, you left it at the end of the fryingpan as you poured in more yolk, the sizzling growing loud once more. You looked over at him, an excited gleam in your eyes. "No, Baki... It wouldn't be an issue at all. You can start the process now if you want. I'll just call in sick and you can take the day off school to complete it." You said. His eyes lit up and a bright smile graced his face. "Really!?" He said. You nodded and chuckled at his excitement. "Yes, really!! We can start as soon as we finish breakfast." You said.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

After breakfast, you and Baki got busy right away, he didn't live far so it made going to his place easy. You both went to the nearest storage unit, you bought a few nicely sized boxes, the both of you went to his place, folded the boxes, and got to work. He didn't have a lot of things, but it was enough to fill up five boxes. Two of his boxes contained his clothes, neatly folded and organized by you. One box had shirts and pants, and the other had socks and underwear. In another box, you placed all of his school supplies at the bottom and his hygienic products on top in a grocery bag. In the fourth box, you had somehow squeezed in a folded blanket, and his pillows, and even placed his shoes in a nice bag in the same box. In the fifth box, you placed all his dog's stuff in it. Dog food, bowls, leash, and bed.

He looked at all the boxes in wonder and amazement. "Wow... She was able to squeeze everything in, nice and neat... and even kept it clean and reasonable... I guess, this is what they call 'A Mother's Touch.' ... The ability to make the impossible possible." He mumbled to himself as he looked at the boxes, he looked up at you when he heard you sigh tiredly. Your back facing him as you whipped your arm over your forehead. Before you both left your home to come to his, you took off your makeup and put on a casual outfit. A large baggy shirt and some comfortable sweats. "Woo!! Finally done." You said tiredly, you looked down at the box with the dog things in it. You bent down to pick it up, but Baki's hand on your shoulder stopped you. You looked back at him in question.

"You can rest, I'll take it from here." He said. You stared at him in wonder as he gently pushed you aside, he picked up the box, placed it on another box, and then he picked those two boxes up and placed them on another box. He did that till all five boxes were stacked and then he picked them up with a little grunt. "Alright... I'm all packed." He said, a happy gleam in his eyes as he stared down at you happily. You chuckled and you shook your head putting all your weight on one leg and one hand on your hip. "You're something different Baki, you really are." You said fondly. He giggled boyishly. You turned away from him, rubbing his dog's head gently before you continued on to the doors. "Well come on then, we gotta get you settled in." You said as you slipped your shoes on, and slid the door open. He followed suit his dog not far behind. Once outside, he looked back at the place he once called home.

'For 7 years, I lived here for about 7 years... so many things happened while I lived here... both good and bad... it's been one hell of an adventure... and now, it's nothing more but a place to train at... maybe I'll turn it into a personal gym... I mean, I might as well... It'll be like a man cave in a way... Yeah, a man cave.' He thought as he stared at the building, the sound of you walking away caught his attention and he followed after you. He, his dog, and his mom all walked to their new home and life. A happy smile on his face, a pep in his step as he walked, his hair bounced and his eyes gleamed. 'When was the last time I was this happy?... When I met Kouze?... When I kissed her?... When I fight a new strong opponent?... When I win?...No... It was about 5 years ago now... when my mother died... I was sad but I was also happy... Happy that she was free from her torment, happy that he was free from her constant abuse and neglect... he felt relief for both him and for her... It sounded wrong but it also felt so right... That was the last time, I felt this happy.' He thought.

As he followed after you, your home... No... Their home could be seen ahead of them. 'Home... with a family... My dog, my mom, my own room, my own bed... it feels different now... I've always had my own, but it was my home... Now it's under someone else's roof, but it was still mine... it's so different, it's so domestic... I love it.' He thought as he followed you inside, he kicked his shoes off before he went in further, placing the boxes down on the floor. You smiled as you patted his back gently, the dog went to the couch and he flopped down with a yawn. You both looked at him for a while. "Well, glad to know you're already settled in." Baki said, you chuckled at his silliness as you walked past him and into the kitchen. "I'll fix you a snack, until then get your things settled in, the dog things can go on the balcony." You said pulling down a plate and a cup. He nodded his head as he picked up the first box, and he placed it next to the balcony door.

'I'll get his stuff settled in once I'm done with my own things.' He thought as he picked up the other four boxes before he walked upstairs with them.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

Baki flopped back on his back, his hair falling back from his face and forehead, a relaxed and pleased look on his face as he stared up at the ceiling. His room was finally officially his room... He's slept in this room many times throughout his younger teen years, finding refuge in your home, his make-believe life with you. Many times he's passed up on his training to spend many days with you. You were his ideal mother, his ideal home... You were his escape from reality. He'd leave his training behind for some time, never coming to his assigned weight training his mother gave him, never going home to that half-ass excuse of a home that his mother gave him. He'd seemingly vanish for days then he'd just reappear like nothing, expecting a lashing from his mother but he'd never care. He'd skip out on training, he'd miss out on getting stronger, just to be with you.

Just to get your affection, your hugs, your kisses, your comfort, your love. Everything he wanted his mother to give him, you would spoil him with. He grew reliant on you, he'd run to come see you after a training session, and he'd hug you, his head buried in your breasts, listening to your heartbeat, your arms wrapped around him tightly, fingers combing this hair gently. He'd lay there for hours in your arms, even falling asleep sometimes, he'd wake up on the couch, the smell of food wafting into his nose, seeing you in the kitchen, cooking up a meal for you both. You'd just happen to look around, seeing him up on the couch and you flash him your beautiful smile. 'I love that smile... It's so full of love, understanding, and acceptance. I love that smile, so much.' He thought, inhaling through his nostrils as he closed his eyes, relaxing on the mattress. 'I don't think... I'd never fall out of love with that woman... The woman who took the place and love of my birth mother... I love her so much.' He thought his eyes opening, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

"I love my mother... And I won't let anything happen to her... I'd kill anyone who'd even try and separate us... No matter who they are." He said.

[noellawrites]

Involuntary Celibate - Yandere!Carmy Berzatto x reader

requested & also helped by @tryingtowritefanfics <3

summary: Carmy's been saving himself for you... but he's tired of waiting.

warnings: 18+, incel!Carmy, teasing, dub/non-con, forced breeding, rape

"Yo chef, can you stay late for prep?" Carmy asks as he passes behind you.

"Of course, chef!" you pipe, turning around and smiling at your boss.

He stole a glance at the sauce you were working on and cocked his head towards it.

"Go ahead, I need some feedback," you confess, handing him a spoon.

As his lips touch your creation and his eyes brighten just a bit, you can't help but blush. After a year of working for him, you'd developed quite a crush on the man.

"Excellent, chef. Just try adding a bit more honey," he offers, looking right into your eyes.

You thought about that interaction for the rest of your shift, even as everyone else left.

—

Now, it was past ten and only you and Carmy remain.

You sidle up to Carmy, leaning over the large metal table as he works on one of his drawings.

He looks over at you briefly, his mouth cracking into a small smile before turning back to his work.

Before you could stop yourself, you reach out and touch one of the tattoos on his left arm, the world inside the measuring cup.

"I love this one," you whisper, tracing the cup's thin lines.

Carmy immediately stops drawing. Unbeknownst to you, Richie's words from the past few weeks were echoing through his mind.

"C'mon 'cuz, why haven't you tapped that yet?" "Carm, she's obviously fuckin' obsessed with you." "Jesus 'cuz, you can't be a virgin forever." "If Mikey were here, he'd tell you how much of a loser you are."

Before you knew what was happening, Carmy grabs your arm with his right hand and pins your back against the table. Alarm bells ring through your head but you can't move, your body feels numb.

"Stop fuckin' teasin' me," Carmy grits, pressing his body against yours. You can feel his hard-on through his pants as it presses against your midsection.

You have no idea what else to do, so you lean up and press your lips against his. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he deepens the kiss, groaning and bucking against you.

You let out a loud moan as Carmy works his way down your neck with his mouth. All of a sudden, you feel his big hand attempting to tug your bottoms down. You reach down and grab his hand, but he slaps your hand in response.

"You've been teasing me for months, it's my fuckin' turn to take what belongs to me," he hisses, and you immediately start to feel your eyes water.

"C-Carm, please—" you start, but he cuts you off.

Carmy leans in, lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm done with your shit. I'm gonna knock you up and leave you beggin' for more."

"Carmy, I-I'm a virgin. Please don't do this to me!" you beg, still trying to push against him in vain. He has you trapped, no chance for escape.

"I'm a virgin, too. Been savin' myself for you, so we can lose it to each other. We can start our own family, leave our fucked up ones behind," he promises, and you can hear the strain in his voice. Probably a combination of his intense lust and deep desire to get you pregnant.

"Stop, please! I'm not ready to—" you try again, but Carmy cuts you off by clamping a hand over your mouth. With his other hand, he finishes pulling your pants and underwear down.

"You're so good, all wet for me, huh? Slutty women like you are always fuckin' teases," Carmy hisses, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.

You might've enjoyed this, following maybe four dates and a label and maybe a condom. But you clenched your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were anywhere else.

Anywhere but being cornered and raped by your boss while he tries to put his baby inside you, a little baby Berzatto blossoming inside your womb.

"Hmm—mphh!" you try to speak through Carmy's hand over your mouth. He was almost fully sheathed inside of you, groaning while rocking his hips into yours.

Your extreme discomfort shifted into throbbing pain as his cock breached your cervix. You couldn't stop the tears from filling your eyes as he fucked you harder, like a man on a mission.

Pain mixed with pleasure flooded your senses as Carmy groans, painting the walls of your cervix with his cum.

"Richie and Mikey'd be so fuckin' proud’a me," he says under his breath as he pulls out of you, immediately yanking your underwear back up to keep his fluids inside your pussy.

He un-clamps his hand from your mouth as he shuffles back into his black pants and buckles his belt.

“Why did you do this to me, Carmy?" you sniffle as his intense gaze meets your eyes.

"Because I love you. You're mine now, you'll never be with anyone else," he says, a bored expression on his face.

You can't hold back anymore. You burst into tears, a mixture of post-coital emotions and terror at the very real possibility of a baby inside you.

Carmy pulls you into his chest, holding you close to him as your tears soak through his white shirt.

"I love you so much," he whispers, and you cry even harder. You're never going to escape Carmy Berzatto, you know that now.

[6feathered6siren6]

Hi, if it's not too much trouble, can I request a hurt/comfort fic with V and a reader with chronic pain, fatigue and stiffness? The animals could munch on some doctors suggesting psychosomatics if you want.

I love your fics, they are so gentle!

Pain and support(V x Reader)

Authors note: Thank you!! I'm glad you enjoy my fics! So I did research and asked people with chronic pain(adding my own experiences as well) and tried my best, I hope this is up to people's liking!

Trigger warnings:

Insecurities

self doubt

---

You stared at the ceiling, the same color and bumps. You can visualize it in your mind by now, it was past midnight. You felt like you couldn’t bend your joints, your heart felt like it was gonna explode. You knew you should have, but you weren’t going to do anything. You stayed late at your job, working overtime, worrying about deadlines, overworking yourself, and now you pay the price. You couldn’t sleep and your body felt like it was going to destroy itself. 

You remember you heard your phone’s call ringtone go off earlier but you didn’t want to move. With much effort, you got your phone, a missed call. And it was from him, your lover, the one who was away for a charity event, thousands of miles away from you. He called you and you were just lying trying to ignore everything. He also left a voicemail. Of course he would. You felt your features soften, happy he sent something.

You click to listen into the voicemail, and his voice goes through your speaker. Full of love, you can see his smile on his face, how he would soften his features when he looks at you. “Hello, love. I arrived safely here. I know you are getting ready for bed soon, so I’ll keep it short. I hope you sleep well, and have very pleasant dreams. Call me when you wake up, have sweet dreams, my love.” 

The beep indicating that the message was over, it was still after midnight. You couldn’t bother him, he was most likely getting into bed. Sure, you might be having a flair up, but you can handle it by yourself. You have done this many times before. You can do this again. 

–

You really need to stop jinxing yourself, because you couldn’t sleep. Was it from the stress? Or was it from overworking yourself? It didn’t matter, you were in pain. Your joints hurt, you were tired, your hands haven’t stopped shaking for a while. You didn’t want to get up, sure your phone was dying but laying there was a better option. Instead of the ceiling, you were on your phone, as it was dying, it brought at least a distraction. The sun was shining through your curtains and it was morning. But you know you weren’t gonna do much today. Scrolling on what’s happening, little minor things to some thing that you would have to work on when you get back to your job. 

You haven’t messaged V yet, you didn’t want to disturb his sleep, not bother him. He was thousands of miles away, and you didn’t want to take him away from this event. He mentioned it was somewhat important, that it would help the funding for something. You might have forgotten small details, but it didn’t matter at the moment. 

Groaning softly, you sat up, rubbing your arms. A yawn escapes your lips, looking at your phone for a final time, before putting the charger on it. V shouldn’t worry about you, he should worry about the event he’s at. Maybe after taking a bath you can get some takeout, you were craving your favorite diner breakfast.

–

In new clothes, and feeling better, you sat in your bed, putting your take out near you. Grabbing your full charged phone, V was most likely up. Would he be up getting dressed? Getting food or eating? Talking with someone. 

With much nerves, you hit the call button. You can hear the rings go as you wait, you swear you can feel every inch of your body become numb for a moment before he picks up your call. 

“Ah, good morning, my love.” His voice sounds like he just woke up, most likely did, is it early for him?

“Hello, V, hope you slept well?” You chuckled, you didn’t expect to wake him up. You pull the takeout bag closer to yourself, opening the container. 

He hums softly, you can hear some ruffling from his side. “I did, but I miss being able to cuddle you.”

You snort, taking a bite of your food, “So you just want to use me as a teddy bear?” 

You can hear him groan, “That is not what I meant.” You laugh softly as ruffling sounds from his side, and a yawn. “That aside, I hope your night was well, getting great dreams, my love.”

You went softly quiet, you were fine, you are fine, “Yup, I slept well!” You made sure your voice was higher, sounding happy, he had something else to focus on, he shouldn’t be worried. And he bought it.

“That’s lovely, so anything you got planned today?” 

“Not really.” You said, “I think I just have to call one person, but I should be free.” 

“Then after the event, should we have a small movie night?” He paused, you couldn’t see what he was doing but it took a bit before he continued. “I recently found out that they made a book I read a while ago into a movie.”

“Sounds lovely, V.” 

– 

That was hours ago, V was at his event. You were fine, you only felt some pain, maybe more numbness, but you were fine. You should be…

You can’t ignore it anymore. You tried but all that left is rotting in your bed. You were tired, you still haven’t slept, your head feels like someone was bashing it, and your eyes burn. You don’t know if it was the tears threatening to fall or the migraine. Your body was… just… Your hand tightened around your blanket, you were so done. 

A certain ringtone pulls you out of your head, it is a certain person’s ringtone. You grab your phone, and answer it. “Ronin.”

Ronin can hear your pained voice,  it was shaking, and threatening to sob. “Damn, Darling. Not feeling pristine?” 

“Ronin, not in the mood.” You said, sternly. “Just…”

He interrupted you. “Alright, alright, Darling. Does your lover know?”

You stayed silent.

“So he doesn’t know?”

Another quiet session. You can hear the other groan. “Leave it up to the devil to tell the guard dog.” 

“Wait, please don’t, Ronin.” You beg, you didn’t want to pull him away from this event. V was talking about how much he was looking forward to it. 

He made a long tss sound, “Welp, too late, just did. Yikes, should have stopped me earlier.” 

“Ro-” You were interrupted by V calling you. 

“Sounds like he’s calling, see ya.” He hung up, leaving your phone to ring. 

You stare at his call screen. You… didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to bother him. With a heavy sigh, you accept the call. 

“Love?” He paused, he sounded so worried, you felt guilt twist your stomach. A signal of pain goes through your body, leaving you to grunt. “I received a text from Ronin. That you didn’t sound good, or feel good. I’m worried.”

You cleared your voice, masking it as best as you can. “Yup, fine, promi-”

“You don’t sound like it.”

You pause, before letting out such a shaky breath, trying not to sob. “V..”

“I’ll be there soon, Love. You should have told me.” You can hear wind blowing into his speaker, was he…

“I couldn’t pull you away from the charity event.”

“Love, you are important to me. This event is bi-yearly, and I'll show up in two years. If you needed me, I would be there.”

“But-”

He interrupts you again. “Love, if you need me, I will be there. No questions.”

With shivering words, V would quicken his pace. “V, I need you.” 

–

You might be still mad at Ronin, but you know he means well. But there he was, there with you. Laying beside you, his hand in your hair, soothing you. The movie was playing softly, not to bother you. Your head was on his chest, eyes closed, and you were moments slipping into sleep. Blanket around you, soothing your pain a bit, making it more bearable. And right before sleeping, you felt a kiss on your forehead with words you couldn’t hear.

[gojokive]

when you called me, i became your flower🌷 ↳ g. satoru x g. suguru, g. satoru x reader, g. suguru x reader ♡ ↳ angst. ↳ tw: death, mention of an afterlife ♡ self-indulgent (I'm still trying to cope HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN NOW. my blue-eyed king). ↳ reference the scene in deadpool 2 with wade and vanessa. I love that scene when he's trying to get to her but he can't. ↳ previous part › Satoru goes south ❣

It takes everything in Satoru not to force himself through the barrier protecting you and Suguru. It takes all his strength not to scream and yell until you realize he’s there. There’s nothing worse than being the outsider looking in and right now, Satoru is on the verge of giving up everything if it means he can be with the two of you. Noting you’re sitting across from each other, he finds it a little odd you’re here, together (especially when you’ve never met each other formally). Though it makes his heart soar with butterflies when he thinks of his best friend and wife getting along.

Satoru glances around the room you’re hold up in, realizing this place resembles yours and Satoru’s shared living room as the early morning sun beams illuminates the entirety of it. As of right now, you don’t seem to sense his presence. Your voices are muffled but he can tell you’re in a deep conversation. He wonders what you’re talking about since he can’t make out what you’re saying to one another.

He tries to call both of your names but to no avail. He wishes there was a way to get to you two because his whole being yearns to be with you both. He’s tired, ready to be done with everything that comes with being labeled as ‘the strongest’.

Hell, even banging his fist against the barrier does nothing.

All he wants is to lay in your arms while you tell him how good of a job he’s done. Let him know how much you missed him and how much you love him. He doesn’t want to go back not when he can have both of you here.

With him.

In paradise.

“Please…” Tears threatening to spill over when he falls to his knees, fist balled on his thighs as his head hangs low. It’s unfair. What should he do when he can’t even get to the two of you for comfort? That’s all he’s yearning for! All he needs. He’s never thought of himself as weak but right now, he’s as exhausted as he’s ever been.

He wishes he could be with both of you in this afterlife. Wishing to be a part of your little bubble and it's breaking him the more he's forced to be apart from you. He’s missed you so damn much. The way you would laugh at the most random things, leaving him to figure out what it was that made you so giddy. Hearing your delicate laughter always made his heart soar because it always gave him a little piece of utter bliss. A piece of peace, if you will. Your smile, always genuine and pretty. He finds himself being forced to watch you grin at Suguru whose smile is one Satoru hasn’t seen in ages. His last memory of his friend was one he wishes he could erase but it’s written in the stars at this point, a part of their history.

And in this moment, his heart begins it’s descent when he realizes you’ve both found peace without him.

He tries to call your name again but still doesn’t get an answer. He tries to call Suguru’s name this time as his head whips in the general direction Satoru’s voice is coming from. His heart drums against his chest as he watches the man get up from his spot only for his smile to fade when he walks over to you instead of where he’s stuck standing. Suguru whispers something into your ear, unsure of what was said until you turn in Satoru’s general direction as well.

He can feel both of your eyes on him. He knows you know he’s there now and only then does the barrier begin to open. Your eyes light up with a burning as you’re quick to run and jump into his arms. Catching you with ease. He holds onto you like you’re going to disappear as he lets himself be vulnerable. He lets the tears fall. He lets his mind go numb.

He lets himself be surrounded by you.

“‘Toru.” You hiccup, holding him tighter as he reaches for Suguru to come closer too.

“Satoru…” Suguru smiles but it immediately drops once he reaches forward to caress Satoru’s cheek and Satoru leans into it with a shaky sigh. The look on Suguru face let’s him know that he’s going to drop a bombshell that he doesn’t want to hear.

Not right.

“Don’t-”

“You have to fighting, Satoru. They still need you.”

“No.” Satoru frowns, noticing how you’ve step back to stand in front of Suguru as he places his hands on your shoulders. Why did it feel like you were going to force him out. What is going on? “What? N-No. No! I’m done. I don’t wan-”

“It’s not your time, Toru...” You sigh, growing increasingly antsy as Satoru takes a few strides to stand in front of you.

“We’ll be here. It’s just-”

“No. Don’t make me go back.” You feel horrible, knowing he wants nothing more than to finally be able to rest but you know you’ll have your forever. Now is simply not the right time. “I don’t want to go back. Please…”

“It’s not up to us, though I wish it was.” You wetly chuckle but he can hear how broken you sound (especially since he feels the same). He’s on his knees, hugging and clutching onto you. His face is pressed into your stomach as he remembers you were going to be parents. How excited he was when he found out. You don’t know that he knew. He wanted to surprise you but he knew you were unsure on how to tell him. Unsure if he would be accepting since you hadn’t talked about them before.

Of course, the night before he could tell you over a candle lit dinner, you were called in for a mission. The curse much stronger than you and able to over power you. He still hasn’t forgiven the higher up’s for sending you when they knew you weren’t equipped to take care of.

“Satoru.” Suguru kneels next to his friend as you continue to run your fingers through his snow white hair. You notice he’s beginning to relax (more of less) as he grips your shirt tighter. Suguru kneels beside him to gently rubs his hand up and down his back as he takes the other to unravel Satoru’s blindfold. His finger under his chin, he looks Satoru in the eyes as he wipe the shed tears away. “You have to go back.”

You knew it was going to be a fight to get him to understand, kneeling down to be in front of your husband too. You get him to look at you now as his eyes are just a blue as the last day you saw them. It still leaves you speechless to this day how beautiful he is. You want to kiss his frown away, knowing you won’t get the chance again.

At least, not for a while.

“Tell me you love me.” He stares at you with so much conviction, though he knows you don’t hold any ill-will toward him. “Please. Both of you. Tell me you love me.”

“I love you. I’ll always love you.” You wistfully smile, grabbing his hands to clasp them together. You give them a squeeze before gently kissing his ring. Leaning in closer, you chastely kiss his lips as he lets himself be pampered. When you finally pull away, he chases after you but only until you place your index finger to his lips to get him to stop. Your gaze holds the moon and the stars and as he gazing into your eyes, he feels the burning love you had for him. You still have for him. “My eternal flame, my love. Know that I don’t blame you. None of what happened is your fault.”

Satoru nods, reaching back for Suguru’s hand.

“I loved you, My one and only.” The three of you get up from the floor as Suguru pulls him into a tight embrace. Satoru holds onto him as if he’s going to disappear into thin air. Not wanting to let go and not wanting to go back just yet. He knows he won’t have a choice in the matter since it’s not his time to die but… he just needs this.

Being lonely even when you’re surrounded by people is a wicked existence.

“Go.” You hum, turning your back to Satoru. You don’t want him to see you break down more than you have already. Before he knows it he’s being yank back through the barrier as he blinks rapidly, a blinding white light scorching his eyes from how bright it is. He tries to make out where he is. It’s cold, he can feel the metal stick to his skin as he takes a deep breath before wincing when a sharp pain surges through his stomach. He doesn’t dare move, confused because he was just with you and Suguru.

Where is he now?

It isn’t until he sees a mop of long brown hair hang above his face, brown eyes staring back at him as she smile mournfully.

“Sho-…?”

“Welcome back, Satoru.”

© KUNAJOU 2024 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED! PLEASE DO NOT PLAGIARISE -and/or- TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK! thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️ comment(s)/reblogs(s)/like(s) are totally welcomed!

[thelovelylolly]

It Will Come Back

Summary: It can't be unlearned, I've known the warmth of your doorways... Warnings: mentions of injuries, blood, and violence, kinda hurt/comfort, reader is described as smaller/shorter than frank, let me know if i missed anything :) Word Count: ~1.9k Notes: first fic of 2024! first off, frank castle with a hozier song makes me go bonkers. second, my requests are open and my guidelines are in the pinned post so please send them in :)

You met Frank in a very unconventional way. You weren't able to sleep one night, your gut telling you something was going to happen, when he slumped against your window on the fire escape. You heard a thud and raced to your room, seeing a dark figure being lit only by the dim streetlights.

You considered the risk of letting him for a second, then crossed your room and opened the window. His body was limp, but he was awake as he fell back into your room. You tried your best to break his fall, but he was heavier than you anticipated. You both grunted as you pulled him all the way into your room and helped him into your nearby desk chair.

You gave him a once over as you closed your window, unsure if you were his saving grace or next victim. He was covered in blood, sweat, and bruises, so you guessed you were safe. He didn't seem as dangerous as he could be. You noticed his dark gaze and tensed body, even if he was injured. His nose stood out to you most, the one thing that made him seem familiar.

"Are you gonna just stand there and stare at me, or are you gonna help me?" He grumbled, groaning as he sat up more in his seat.

"Sorry," you replied softly. "What can I do?"

His gaze darted around your room, like he was trying to figure you out just from what you had in it. "You got a first-aid kit?"

You nodded and went to your bathroom, quickly returning with a first-aid kit in your hands. You turned the tall lamp next to your desk on before setting it down. Your turned back to him, getting a better look at him under the light. His dark hair matched his dark eyes and some of the dried blood on his face. He had some bruises already blooming on his face and a few cuts, nothing life threatening there.

You cleared your throat, stopping yourself from staring at him too long. You popped open the first-aid kit, hoping you had the things he needed. "Where are you hurt?"

"Got slashed pretty good on my left side," he answered, lifting his arm a bit to show you the cut in his clothes and skin.

You nodded and reached for the zipper on his black hoodie. "Can I take this off?"

"Mhm," he hummed.

You quickly unzipped it and pulled it off, careful not to irritate his cut or any other injuries he may have had. You dropped it onto the floor and grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up just enough to see the gash.

"Can you hold your shirt up for me?" You asked quietly. His hand replaced yours, holding his shirt up while you grabbed some of the gauze from the kit to press onto the bleeding cut. You used one of your hands to press the gauze and the other to grab the stitch kit you had inside the kit.

"Can I ask why you have a the stuff for stitches at the ready?" He asked as you got the needle and thread ready.

You laughed dryly. "Can I ask why you showed up at my window with a giant gash in your side and probably other injuries you're not gonna mention?"

"Fair," he replied, a tired smirk on his face.

"You want anything to numb the pain, or are you good? You seem like you've done this before," you said, surprised how easily you fell into this banter with him.

"I'm good, just do it," he grumbled.

You moved your gauze away, taking a deep breath to calm your shaky hands before starting his stitches. You heard every sharp inhale and long exhale as he took deep breaths to get through each stitch. His hand holding up his shirt gripped the fabric tightly, his knuckles turning white. You went as fast as you could without hurting him any further.

It felt like an hour, but in a few minutes, you were done. You tied the thread up and cut it, quickly placing the needle on your desk and grabbing more gauze to hold against it. You pressed the gauze with one hand again and grabbed gauze wrap with your other.

"Can you sit up please?" You asked, glancing up at him. He glanced down at you and held your gaze for a second before looking away and wordlessly sitting up.

You quickly wrapped the gauze wrap around his midsection and finished up, ignoring the way your face heated up when his gaze met yours. You grabbed the bloody gauze from earlier off the floor and put it with the needle you used before standing up.

"Anything else?"

He shook his head as he dropped his shirt back down. You quickly cleaned up the kit and tossed the used needle and gauze into your trashcan. You picked up his hoodie and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome," you replied with a soft smile. "You wanna crash on my couch? I don't think you should go anywhere far in your, uh, condition."

He nodded quietly. You helped him up and led him into your living room, letting him put some weight onto you as he walked. You lowered him onto the couch and he sat down with a sigh. You went into your small kitchen and got him a glass of water and some painkillers, setting it on the coffee table after walking back.

"Can I get your name?" You asked, sitting in the chair across from him.

He popped the pills into his mouth and downed them with the water. "Frank," he answered, setting his now half-empty glass down.

"Like...Frank Castle?"

Frank's gaze jumped to you, eyes a bit wide with surprise.

"That's why you look so familiar. I've seen you on the news and in the papers," you quickly add.

"Ah, thought you'd freak out on me and call the police," he replied, leaning back on your plush couch.

"I think...I don't agree with your, um, methods, but you're cleaning up the streets. Making it a bit safer for people like me to walk home at night, y'know?"

"Glad you see it that way..." He trailed off, waiting for you to give him your name. You did, and he echoed you, almost like testing it out.

"Well, I'm going to try to get some rest," you said as you stood up with a smile. "I think you deserve some. Goodnight, Frank."

"G'night."

------

Since then, you let Frank into your apartment late a night to stitch him up and let him sleep. It wasn't anything more than that. Sure, you two bantered or talked about random subjects, but it was mainly to distract each other from the blood or wound. You were just there to help him, and you two never crossed the unspoken boundary you both had. You silently agreed to be acquaintances, maybe friends.

Then Frank started to cross that.

He started to drop by earlier in the evening, no bruises or blood on him. He'd just show up at the window he always came in, and of course, you'd let him in. You were confused why he would show up this early and not hurt like usual, but you found it nice that he was there without the need to be sewn back up.

He'd come in for a bit, you'd give him a drink or offer him dinner, and you two would talk. You'd spend a long time talking, or sometimes just enjoying each other's company, until it got dark enough and he left to do his job. Sometimes, he'd come back in the early morning hours to get patched up. Other times, he wouldn't show up until the next day when he'd stop by to spend time with you.

Soon enough, you saw a slightly deeper version of him rather than the surface level one you met. He still had some things covered up, but he had revealed enough to cause you to start falling for him. You wanted to stop yourself so you wouldn't make things complicated, but you knew if he wanted to, he'd leave and never look back.

That's what scared you. Your feelings would be one sided and once he figured it out, he'd stop coming by just to hang out with you and eventually, stop coming by for you to patch him up. You didn't want him to leave any time soon, but you knew it could easily happen.

"Hey, you okay? You zoned out there," Frank asked, gently putting his hand on your shoulder to bring you out of your thoughts.

You looked over at him, who was sitting on the other side of the couch as you. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit tired."

"I can go if-"

"No, no, stay," you quickly say, cutting him off. "I, uh, I like your company."

You watched his cheeks and the tips of his ears turn a little pinker as he looked away from you. He ran a hand over his face, like he was trying to rub the blush from it. You looked away from him, playing with the hem of your shirt. You thought you had crossed a line and made him uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna get some water," you said quietly before getting up from the couch and going to the kitchen.

You quickly grabbed a glass and filled it up with water. As you drank it, you thought you'd hear Frank's heavy footsteps head to your bedroom and the window open. You thought you'd hear the sounds of Hell's Kitchen flood in through the open window as he left. Instead, you heard his footsteps approach you slowly.

You finished your drink and put your glass in the sink before turning around to face him. He wasn't very close, but in your small kitchen, it felt closer than it was.

"Why do you come here even when your not hurt and you don't need anything?" You asked, breaking the silence between you two.

Frank sighed. "'Cause you're...you. I don't know, I'm not good with words. But ever since you started to help me out, I...I wanna keep coming back to you. I think I fell in love with you or something because you keep pulling me back here."

You smiled softly at his confession. "I think I fell in love with you, too. I was just scared you were gonna leave if I said anything."

He smiled back, stepping closer and closer to you. A comfortable silence fell between you two. One of Frank's hands fell to your waist and the other tilted your face up to look at him. Your hands naturally wrapped around his neck, holding him close. Your eyes darted to his lips before meeting his eyes.

You caught his gaze dipping down before meeting yours again. You started to lean in and Frank met you halfway. When his lips met yours, the months of banter and drinks and dinners together made sense. He had quietly been telling you he cared about you, maybe even loved you, for so long.

You melted into the kiss and his touch, pulling him as close as you could. It was sweet and slow. You could tell from the way he held you and kissed you just how much he wanted this kiss, how much he wanted you.

When you pulled away, you both stayed close to each other, leaning your foreheads against each other. He brushed his nose against yours as you both smiled.

"I'm not gonna leave you, sweetheart. I will come back."

[bloodsalted]

@qapsiel || just remember. you asked for this. || oh maaan.

Sender tries desperately to stop receiver's bleeding > maybe the rusty nail? :) :) :) :)

routine. fucking joke how that word ricochets in dean's head. a vampire nest was taking out innocent travelers and locals in a neighboring town far too close to home? dean gets reached out to. in turn? he reaches out to sam. they decide that since the bloodsuckers are knocking on their door? they'd go do some knocking back. get them gone. clean up the dark. something they've done countless times day in and day out since they were kids. long before they were popping pimples, they were popping rounds off at these assholes. nothing more than training practice for the bigger guys. nothing more than..

..routine.

til it wasn't.

there's metal where metal isn't supposed to be. deep. where metal, definitely, isn't supposed to be. dean can feel and taste the copper and thick pool of blood at the back of his throat. some slips out from between his lips as he calls. "sammy." cold rushes in. panic. adrenaline. anything his body can do to erase the blinding pain stemming from where he's stuck to the beam? it's speeding into the cracks and tears for numbness to take over. warp speed! overdrive. and not really succeeding. giving it's best shot, though.

"sammy." he hears himself mumbling through his brother polishing off the asshole that sent him flying backwards. terrified eyes meet his. shoulders encased in sam's hands. his brother holds on like he's keeping him grounded. here. whole. dean begs him, in his head and the way his hand braces a forearm weakly, not to pull. he tries to smile away the worry in sam's eyes, his breath, his jerky movements. sam does best to figure out what's wrong looking him over like a mother hen sensing something's just off but not seeing it face to face. yet.

"...messed up. ever zig when ya shoulda zagged? one of those.. a big one." then the sheer horror in hazel eyes once sammy realizes what's off--dean's head just falls forward to rest against his brother's chin. "it's okay, sammy. it's gonna be okay. where's cas..?"

the brothers are murmuring to one another when cas finishes the lingering fanged freak upstairs. 'dean--,' he hears the soft confusion in cas's voice when he drops down from the second floor landing with a solid thud that shakes dean's footing on rotten floorboards. makes him shake and tears sting pained green eyes. fuck it hurts! all of it hurts. '--sam?' cas sounds like he's ready to crawl out of his skin for answers if one isn't given immediately.

his brother's quick to gesture for cas to take over telling him he has to call 911. rather than provide him an immediate answer. thoughts scatter as anxiety and dread settle in. he has to do something! doesn't matter what dean said. he's gonna fix him, fix this. SOMEHOW. sam gestures from a rusty rebar near the ceiling to dean's chest, staring at castiel with a pale face and watery, red eyes. 'don't let him go,' the younger winchester begs. 'don't let him..' die goes unsaid. there's a mess of blood that starts as bubbles at dean's mouth then trickles down his chin to become a steady stream of grotesque dark red. the kind of red that comes from somewhere deep. droplets land on cas's lapel as dean's head rests on the former angel's shoulder.

"i'm sorry, cas. i can't.. i didn't--" this was all supposed to be so routine. he burns from head to toe and feels so damn tired. "love you, cas. 'm sorry." outside, sam's practically yelling into the phone. the hunter's voice rings in dean's ear. far off and distanct. he wishes his brother would just come back... a wobbly hand snags a fistful of the front of cas's shirt. he's not allowed to leave, too. his weight shifts, tears a howl out of lungs that feel like they're wobbling in his chest. slumping against cas, he sucks in a breath that doesn't wanna get swallowed. even that hurts now. "this wasn't s'pposed to happen.." they're happy. he's got a life to leave and he doesn't want to! not now that he has it! desperation. please don't take this from us! not that he knows what it's like to breathe away from the life he never wanted in the first place. god damn figures, doesn't it? some kinda sick joke.. and now he's pissed and scared and his heart's breaking as he looks into the tear-brimmed eyes of the one who loves him the most.

then again. he always did say it was gonna end this way. didn't he..?

just another part of the routine.

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

I Swear To You

Frank Castle x Reader Requested:

Hello my lovely writer, I'm in great need of some protective care taking fluffy angsty Frank Castle fic. And so I was wondering if you are interested in my request =) please let me know what you think. Frank has a cute new neighbor. They ended up talking a lot, Frank even flirting with her, but doesn't have the guts to make a move. One evening she was on a date which went sideways. The creep drugged her. As she notices something is wrong she snuck out of the bar calling a taxi to go home as fast as she can. He manhandled her as he notices she waiting for a taxi but she makes it home... She barely made it to pay the driver as she stumbled to her door to out if it from her spiked drink, so she isn't able to open her door let alone find her key. She collapses at Sehr front door, lying in the Cola night (maybe she hit her head pretty badly when going down). Frank comes home and finds her in feoneof her door. She's hypothermic and he notices her weird state and knows instantly she was drugged. So he takes care of her and her wounds and tries to warm her up. He nurses her back the next days

I hope you like it and thanks for requesting, and sorry for pushing this out for too long.

TW: Mentions of dru-gs, mentions of SA, puking, a terrible man doing terrible things

Frank was a goner. The moment he spotted you at the end of the hallway, gently balancing on your high heels, dress hugging your curves perfectly, hair and makeup done like you were ready to walk the red carpet, he knew he messed up. He messed up when he let his facade fall, and let you see the real him. Or part of him. Nothing was out of place, he came back from work, catching your right opposite of his door, going to a walk, to get a coffee, to meet up with your friends. You greeted him just the same, but your smile was giddy, a little bit too wide for a regular day.

He was oblivious to a lot of things, but even he could see that you are going to a date. And the guy is pretty fucking lucky tonight. He could see you wanted to impress, and you already won, because he was fascinated. He took sneaky glances, tried to act casual when you eyes spotted him walking towards you, shoulders heavy with a long ass day behind him. You greeted him as usual, asked about his day as usual, but he just couldn't act like usual. He had to acknowledge how beautiful you looked, and he did just that. A compliment, then a hidden question to confirm his suspicion. Your hips swayed as you walked away from him, giggling at his compliment, dissepearing into the night.

He was in deep. Too deep.

*

You had a good time, the best since a while. He was charming, charismatic, a kind face with a killer smile. Smooth talk, lingering touches. He was literally perfection. He really was.

As the night progressed, your glass never emptied out fully, he made sure you had plenty to drink. You didn't think much of it, his glass was the same, always full, often smiling into the golden liquor that grazed his lips. You ate, but surely not enough for the amount of drinks you consumed. How much did you really drink? You couldn't recall when your vision started to feel so tunnel like, or how your head felt heavy like a brick strapped to it. The more you felt it, the often his smile faltered.

First you thought you were just tired, haven't ate enough, that's why you are being a lightweight now. But in the back of your mind something told you it wasn't that. You only drank wine, wine that most of the time brought the frizzy numbness to you and the giggles out from you, meanwhile right now, you feel like you drank an entire cupboard of alcohol.

He is closer now. Pulled his chair next to you sometime you don't remember happening, if you saw it, you already forgot it. His breath fanning you ear as he speaks to you, something along the lines of going home, having a good time, taking it somewhere more private.

You wonder if you can walk to the restroom, or even stand up on your feet. You never had to wonder. Alcohol never made you think you physically can't move your body as you want. Panic have settled in your bones, silently urging you to do something. Anything, just to get away from him. You felt his fingers grazing your thigh, pushing your dress higher with every stroke, his voice still murmuring into your ear, although you cannot understand what he's saying.

You excuse yourself, trying to mimic you half an hour ago self. Flirty and joyful, you try to laugh it off, telling him you have to freshen up, telling that you have to pee badly, giggling while admitting it. You must act good, because when you slip off the chair, his warmth doesn't follow, nor his voice. You heart is beating rapidly in your chest, probably the only thing that you can concentrate on to not fall face first to the ground.

You are so fucking hopeful you walk somewhat towards to restroom, so he doesn't realize you are figuring your way out of the place.

A cute face emreges in front of you, your body oddly colliding with the person, you hands flying up to steady yourself on their shoulder. You would be so embarrassed if you were sober. It's a waitress, asking you if you are alright, honest concern in her voice.

You mumble something out, praying it makes sense and she'll know what you need.

"You want to go home? Want us to call a taxi?" She asks with a comforting voice. "Do you need us to call someone?"

Frank's name comes to mind first, and you silently scold yourself for never asking for his number.

"Hmmm, no."

"Let us call a taxi, yeah love?" She says, gently pushing your body forward with her hands eloping you in a side hug. Everything is blurry, your vision only picking up bits and parts of the world around.

You were more than sure that he put something in your drink. If your body wasn't so numb, you would be an erratic mess right now. Your senses are limited, everything comes and goes like a dream. You are not even afraid what he had put in your drinks, you just want to get away from him far away enough so he cannot talk the sweet lady out of helping you. You momentarily feel the cold breeze outside before the early winter air hits you in full force, the cold easing your flaming skin.

"HEY, excuse me. Where are you taking her?" The hair stands up on your whole body from his voice. Sweet, hidden malicious. "No i won't take a step back, where are you taking my girlfriend? Honey look at me!"

You don't have anything in you to respond. You just want to go home.

"Sir you need to leave her alone."

Hushed voices follows movement, softly pushing and pulling you around. Where is your purse? Did you left there at the table? You have your phone and wallet in it, you'll need that.

"My purse, my phone.." You mumble, feeling your body lowered to a flat surface.

"It's in your hands love, take care." The lady says, her voice is distant. You squeeze your hand, feeling a tiny little strap in your palm confirming your fingers are locked on your bag. You barely feel the material on your skin.

"Where to?" Your eyes go wide with a new voice calling out. You are getting comfortable at the back of a taxi, an older man looking at you, waiting for an answer, the dim light up on the car's ceiling giving him a really bad angle.

You hear yourself telling him the address, the sound is like someone else and not you. The car goes smoothly, at least that's how you feel it, the seats smell funny, and the lights outside paints a weird image through the windows, your head's starts to spin as you can't comprehend your surrounding no more. You just wish the taxi driver is kind enough to lead you to your door.

You wished and you were so wrong. He calls out to you plenty of times before you manage to get out of the car, almost tripping over your own feet while doing so, trying to give him money for the ride.

And that's it, the car speeds off behind you, leaving you trembling on the sidewalk. Just a few steps right? That's all it takes to get to your apartment.

Your body sways with each drag of your legs, barely standing up. How you manage to get to your door? You don't know, probably will never know. But you eventually do, legs giving out right in front of it, landing on your knees with a sharp pain then ending up on your butt, the ice cold ground burning your skin where it connects.

Your body gives in to the drug in your system, turning the world to black.

*

He took a peaceful walk to the nearest diner, a place he and you are very fond of, often bumping to each other there, one of those times you said yourself how you love the oldschool vibe and the quiet there. Frank only grabbed a coffee to go, the couple of minute walk clearing his messy head, head that is filled to the brim with thoughts of you. It's rare to him, to have something else on his mind than his family or blood rage and revenge. It's refreshing and terrifying. When he left, you weren't home yet, almost two hours after you waved goodbye to him, and he started to feel restless. Two hour isn't too much for a first date? He wouldn't know, even back in the day he wasn't the guy who took girls to a date. His parents raised him old fashioned, but he usually liked the simpler things. Car rides, walks with deep talks, cheap picnic with soda and snacks. So what does he knows about fancy restaurant dates?

It's cold, too cold for the tiny dress you were dressed in, but he would take you home right? He would take you home, making sure you walk in your front door, seeing it close behind you before leaving. But that's him, and he knows for sure not every man thinks like that.

The coffee warming his palm, giving him some sort of comfort to his uneasiness, his eyes searching for the familiar door when he takes a turn to your street.

No lights up yet? Now he's worried. You might went home with him. It's possible, you are a beautiful grown woman, who probably knows very well what she wants. But his jaw clenches nevertheless at the thought. His eyes dart away in shame, knowing he has no right to be mad at you for having a good time.

His head snaps back so quick it hurts his neck, in the corner of his eyes a big dark spot in front if your door that wasn't there before. He blinks for a few times to make sure it's not just his brain tricking him into some illusions. His mind failed him before, showing him terrible things that weren't really there, but the rapid beating of his heart and the pounding in his head is a signal of the familiar danger he encountered so many times before. The type of feeling in his gut when he knows the worst is coming.

And nothing could have prepared him for your frozen body on the freezing ground. In your tiny dress, exposed skin sticking to the concrete, the contains of your purse scattered around.

His instinct kicks in with full force, his hands fumbling for a pulse under your skin. He checks your wrist and neck before pulling your numb body up to his embrace, without thinking twice about who might see him taking you into his apartment. God knows how did you end up there, and he's not risking it if your date shows up at your door, finishing what he had started.

Because why else would you be lying knocked out in front of your home, why couldn't you get in, why else would you loose consciousness if not because of a doing of a horrible piece of shit man?

He is a man on a mission. Something he felt ages ago, and now it's welcomed with a sense of purpose and a sharp sting in his heart.

You are terribly cold in his hands, and he has to hush the voice in his mind that tells him the worst possible outcome.

He rushes to his bed, putting you down on his sheets gently, fingers trembling as he pulls your damp dress off of you, at this point he can't bothered that you are nearly naked in his bed, this isn't how he imagined it. He rushes off, his boots heavy on the creaking wooden floor, looking for the warmest clothes he has in his mostly empty wardrobe. It's a hoodie and sweatpants he comes up with, the best he can offer.

He knows you'll be greatly embarrassed when you come to your senses, so when he removes your undergarments, he tries to do it as respectfully as it's possible. One clothing off and another on, your icy skin burning under his warm hands, the sensation leaving a bad taste in his mouth. A reminder that he has a bastard to find after you are recovered.

His mind is racing, the loud thump in his ears slowly quieting down as he checks for your pulse again, cursing himself that he doesn't have a damn thermometer. He should have called an ambulance, he thinks. But god knows how much time they need to get here, if they ever. He's being selfish. But you are in good hands, he wants to think you are okay with him.

He's greatful for his years in the military, now more than ever. When it comes to himself, he's tactical and precise but numb. Any wound he stitched up and treated is decent enough, but nothing more. His own discomfort and pain is a welcomed guest. But right now it's not his body that is in pain, and he's not allowed to be careless and emotionless. You are wrapped up in his bed, safe and sound, but it's nothing to soothe his nerves.

He grabs a towel from the bathroom, the exact same of the pretty set you gave to him a couple of weeks ago when you saw his own torn up one, insisting he needs it way more than your wardrobe where you kept it since buying them. He gently lifted your head from the soft pillow, neatly covering your damp hair in it, your soft breaths music to his ears, he leans closer, just to confirm you are breathing evenly.

He considers for moment before deciding to open your eyes with his fingertips, his suspicion is confirmed by your blown pupils, the color of your eyes barely visible from the blackness of it. He sighs, rage and anger coursing through his veins, tempting him to get up and find the fucker. It would be easy, so easy. But you need him more than he needs to ease the bloodlust.

Just now he realizes he is still in his coat, sweat glistening on his forehead, his body hot under the layers he should get rid of, dirty boots tainting the already year long stained flooring of his apartment.

He glances over to you, a last conformation you are okay before he himself changes from his street clothes.

He doesn't mean to overstep, but when he goes back to you, and you body is just as cold as when he found you outside, his mind is set. He carefully slips in to the bed, he himself isn't sure how he manages to get under you, he searches for the best way for his body to give off it's heat to you. So you are now trapped between his legs, back laying heavily on his abdomen, hair tickling his bare skin. It's more intimate Frank anticipated, but to be honest, he wasn't debating about it much before doing what his brain told him to do. He would change his mind about the position if he couldn't feel your body soaking up his warmth. It's satisfying, how you take unconsciously, and he's basking in the feeling of giving. It's been so long since he was able to serve gently, in a quiet manner. Like when he ruffled his son's hair, or put the school bag on his daughter back. Or how he played with a single strand of Maria's hair, putting it behind her ear.

So his hands pulls you closer, every part of you hugged by his body, giving and giving everything he has to offer.

*

Your head hurts. No, not hurts, splits into two, even more when your eyes open with a painful sharp feeling behind them. You would groan if your throat would let it slip past the desert that's inside. The rest in your bones mixing with various aches under your skin, and the comfort around isn't enough to reach your body. You are tempted to back to sleep, sure another hours wouldn't hurt, before you mind clears up, shaking the sleep out of you.

It hits you like a lightning. What day is it really? What day was yesterday?

You shot up, dizziness almost pulling you back down with a terrible feeling in your stomach. Before you could comprehend anything that's happening, something is held to your face where soon you empty out the contains of your stomach. A soothing hand appears on your back, trying to keep your hair there while you puke your literal life out. Sweet words reach your ears when your traumatized body calms a little bit down.

"You are alright, sweetheart." It's Frank's voice. "How you feelin'?"

Your grimace, disgust being the only thing you are feeling besides every ache of your body. "It's okay, darlin'. Just breath, let it out if you have to."

You look sideways, seeing him half naked, his body so close you can feel his warmth radiating towards your trembling body. He's concerned face is looking for something in yours, perhaps panic that why he is here with you, or the fact, that you aren't in your own room, or apartment, or why are you wearing his clothes that hangs on you loosely. There is an explanation for it, you know that, and you don't have the will or the energy to be panicked. Despite these thoughts, you heart beats out of your chest, hearing your blood rushing in your ears.

"What happened?" You ask. If you are with him, he's having all the answers. What is the last thing anyway that you remember? You getting ready? Was it yesterday? Your date. You don't remember your date. It's daytime right now, so it's surely passed.

Maybe it's too apparent on your face how you put together the pieces in your head, or he's just panicking at how you are starting to panic that you don't realize. Your shaking body is fumbling with the duvet around you, eyes snapping to Frank then to your surroundings, frantic with your every move. Like an animal cornered.

"Hey hey hey..You are alright! Look at me darling! Look at me." He forces you to look in his eyes, warm and safe, attention seeking. "You were drugged last night, but you are okay, you hear me? You'll have a hell of a day today, but it's gonna pass. Nothing happened, okay? He did nothing to you."

It's sincere. Everything he says he believes. How does he know?

"How..?"

"You know how, sweetheart. Let me get you some water okay? Get back in bed." He commands, leaving you on the side of the bed. So he is Frank Castle after all. You had you suspicion for a while, and you might asked too risque questions he caught on. How does this makes you feel? Kind of relieved, and grateful? You are grateful that your neighbor is a cold-blooded killer?

"There you go. Drink slowly, okay?" He murmurs, a black t-shirt now covering his upper body. You take careful sips, eyeing the man next to you without shame. He does the same, watching intently with so much comfort in his eyes.

"I don't remember anything." You voice is defeated, drained even without using it for hours now.

"I know, i'm sorry." Tears are threatening to fall as your mind tries to navigate the information that you have been drugged.

"What if he.."

"Nonononono, look at me! He did nothing to you. He put it in your wine, let you have too many drink, but he did no more than that!"

You nod. Accepting it. He's the Punisher after all.

He takes your hand in his, planting a faint kiss on top on your knuckles. "You are safe, i swear to you."

You are safe with him.