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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 11 months

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snowfall

summary: when she’s young and in between foster families, she meets a scrawny kid named Simon. Simon sits to the side while the other kids play, and she gives him her sandwich. When he leaves, forced to go back to his dad, she feels bad for him.

Then, when she gets older, she realizes that Simon was the lucky one. He made it out.

notes: based on the song snowfall, bc I’ve been listening to it and thinking about this fic a lot lately

warnings: mentions of abuse, human trafficking and childhood trauma. Violence. Allusions to smut? Afab!reader

taglist: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins (hmu to be added to any taglist!)

masterlist | requests are OPEN!

You’re back to square one, where you always end up when a foster family lets you go. A big, grey house that was built in the sixties and not once painted afterwards, that’s square one. Makeshift beds and damp rooms, showers that smell of piss and food that has the consistency of cardboard.

The house is so terrible on the inside that everyone flees into the parking lot, a barely better place to be. In the dirt-poor areas of Manchester, it’s all anyone can ask for. The younger kids play with chalk or run around, chasing each other, while the ones your age pass cigarettes and other stuff to each other.

None of you know each other’s names, but you’ve all seen each other in passing. Kids that were left on their own, that don’t trust easy won’t talk to each other either. Not really.

It’s rare to see a new face, so the teen sitting off to the side while the others talk catches you by surprise.

He’s massively tall already, but scrawny as hell, his hair in the awkward stage between short and being grown out. His eyes flit around, meeting no one else’s.

“Haven’t seen you before.” You greet, and he barely looks up. You offer him your name, and he pauses before he responds.

“Simon.” He says finally. There’s a short silence, broken by his rumbling stomach, and you hand him your sandwich without thinking twice. You’re not a big fan of tomatoes. He hesitates, inspecting it before he takes a bite. He barely nods as you tell him you don’t like tomatoes, and you doubt he even heard you.

“What are you doing here? Never seen you before.” You attempt, trying to make conversation. He shrugs in response, and you don’t pry further.

Simon sticks to you like glue in the days afterwards, a silent shadow that towers over you. Timmy, a kid that joined a gang after feeling overly confident, tries to approach you twice, but apparently, Simon’s glower is more intimidating than his stature.

After a week and a half, a social worker interrupts a game of Uno between you and Simon, pulling him away for a conversation. That usually means one of two things: going home, or going to a family of strangers.

You never get to find out which one it is, because Simon doesn’t say goodbye. You tell yourself that he made it home, or at least made it out. He seems like the type.

***

Against your hopes, and in line with all odds, you don’t make it out. Bouncing between foster families leaves you frustrated, angry and alone. A recipe for disaster, and you know it. Two years after Simon left the grey house that smelled like a germaphobe’s nightmare, you did as well.

Barely eighteen, with no one to back you up and not a single penny on your name, that went to shit quicker than you might have thought, and you found yourself exactly where you did not want to end up: the crime scene of Manchester.

It started off with little favors. Timmy convinced you. He said it wasn’t hard to sell drugs. That you’d only have to do it a few times, and then you’d have enough money to start yourself off with a real job. Something honest.

Something that would finally get you some real security. A sense of permanence.

Over the years, little favors turned into bigger favors.

Timmy, of course, didn’t know batshit about anything, and he certainly did not care to look into things more than he had to for you. And by the time your idiot, barely not-adolescent brain realized that, you were in too deep.

You’d done everything wrong, because selling drugs for a few days ‘wouldn’t hurt anyone’.

That was how you ended up as the cliché character of anti-everything prevention movies they showed you, back in the grey house. Abused, beaten-up, trafficked, sold, and not even out of your twenties.

Each time you thought about it, you wanted to laugh at yourself, to try and stop yourself from missing the gray house and the exhausted social workers that weren’t paid enough to care for any of you.

Just this time, you couldn’t go back to the gray house. You weren’t a child anymore. This time, people came for you to make sure that you’d pay them back what you owed them. Technically, what Timmy owed them.

They, whoever they were, took you away from Manchester, the only semblance of home you’d ever known. You found yourself in an abandoned cargo hall, freezing cold. From what you could see, it was snowing outside, the chill creeping inside. The girl next to you was out like a light, either from drugs, exhaustion, the cold, or a combination of all three.

You could make peace with the fact that you would never get out. You could just accept it, like you’d accepted everything else in your life. A voice in your head screamed that it wasn’t fair, and it felt like that scream was becoming more and more real. There was a ridiculous notion in the back of your mind, telling you to get up.

It bled into the screech from the gates of the cargo hall, protesting as they were opened. Your captors pointed their guns, but thick, white smoke filled the building, and you felt yourself become suddenly sleepy.

The last thing you saw were shadowy figures storming the hall, gunfire ringing out, smoke filling your nose and mouth.

***

When you came to, the smoke had dissipated, but you were still in the cargo hall. A group of men in camouflage walked around the hall, checking the men that were lying on the floor. One of them approached you and the others.

Almost automatically, you slinked backwards, out of his reach, but he gave you a soft smile.

He was young, too young to be in a place like this, with a sweet expression on his face that felt too saccharine to belong in the midst of this violence.

“I’m Gaz.” He said. “I’m with the British army, and we’re here to take you home. Are you hurt?”

Varying reactions came from the people around you, and you felt yourself numbly nodding. Home. Had a God heard your prayer and then decided to turn it into a joke?

The doctors arrived a while later, taking a look at everyone that had been with you. Some of the girls around you were drug addicts, and going into withdrawal was never pretty. The cargo hall quickly filled with the stench of vomit and cold sweat, but it meant that you got the time to look at the men that had stormed the hall. A gruff man with sideburns, a Scot with a mohawk that was chattering away with Gaz and-

He was hulking, a mountain that wore a skull instead of a face. You’d never met someone like him in your life, but he paused when he saw you, and you knew that he’d seen you before, this behemoth of a man.

***

It takes two more days before you’re back in England, but it doesn’t feel like a homecoming. Some of the girls have people waiting for them, parents, children, boyfriends, girlfriends to run into their arms and hold. Some are like you. No one comes, and they leave on their own.

You want to follow them. You can’t go back to Manchester. You’ll only return for your papers, if those still exist, and then you’ll leave.

You’re about to finally lift your feet from the cold, concrete floor when you feel a pair of eyes burning into your back.

Turning around, you see it’s the one they call Ghost. He’s standing off to the side, and it reminds you of something. You can’t figure out what it is, even though you try so so hard to just remember.

“Thank you for getting us out of there.” You blurt out, and he looks like he wants to say something, his jaw almost cramping together as he makes a tiny movement. You think it’s towards you.

“I owed you for the sandwich.” He says. The shrug looks forced, and you know that he can’t bring himself to say something more honest. “No tomatoes, of course.”

The seconds it takes you to understand seem to tick by outside of your brain, like a clock hammering with each moment passed. Then, your jaw falls slack.

“Simon?” you ask, too loudly, and the Scot named Soap snaps his head around to stare at you.

He doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t have to. You recognize his height, his eyes, the awkward standing off to the side so suddenly that it hits you like a fucking train. How couldn’t you see it before?

This is Simon. The kid that-

“You left without saying fucking anything!” you accuse, and you’re sure the others think you’re exes.

He just nods, and that almost infuriates you. But he made it out. He made something of himself, and you have to respect that. It’s all you want, always slipping away from your grasp, and Simon got it. Carved it out for himself, by the looks of it.

And finally, after an eternity, Simon steps forward and holds out a bag with the yellow-and-green subway logo on it.

“Hope you like it.” He mumbles, and it’s an almost adorable gesture. There’s no tomatoes, as he promised. Someone remembered something from your childhood.

You take the bag, and then you take the step separating you and hug him tightly. Are you overstepping a boundary? Is he going to push you off roughly?

He doesn’t hug you back, but he does allow you to wrap your arms around him (or, as much as you can do that with his new size).

His teammates stare, but you don’t let go. Not for a while.

“You got a place to stay?” he asks, when the others have gotten over the shock of your interaction. There’s genuine concern in his eyes, and a part of you hopes that you’re special in this, because you helped him too. Somehow.

“McDonalds is always open, and I’ve got…” you reach into your pocket, finding a crumpled note. “Enough for a large drink.”

He shakes his head. He offers his apartment, his home up to you and you should say no because he could traffic you, or rape you, or hurt you just enough to make you drag yourself back to Timmy.

You get into the car with him, and your mind screams danger. Your gut’s feeling alright though, so you ignore it.

The first change beyond the obvious of his massive frame that you notice is that he’s gotten even quieter. While you drag yourself up the dark staircase with some effort, he stays true to his name, not a single scrape coming from his combat boots.

In the apartment, he switches on the light, and you take in the spartan interior. A small kitchen, a sofa, a TV, a coffeetable with a mug still on it. No dinnertable, but three pictures on the refrigerator.

A young boy, a woman that reminds you of the younger Simon (maybe his mother?) and his teammates. Gaz, Soap, the older guy, two men that you don’t recognize, standing in scenery that looks almost tropical.

He lets you stare, before he quietly shows you the bathroom. You let the lock click behind you, even though you know that wouldn’t make much of an obstacle for the person he’s become.

You shower as quickly as you can, slipping back into your underwear. You hesitate for a moment, and then you grab the big, fluffy bathrobe hanging over the towel rack. Someone had vomited on your shirt, and you refused to put it on again.

The robe was too big for you, black with white skulls on it, and you highly doubted that Simon had bought it for himself. Maybe the Scot that cracked jokes with, or rather at him, had bought it for him and he’d caved to using it.

When you walked out, Simon was pulling clean sheets over the bed in his bedroom. He lifted his head when he heard you, and even through the balaclava, you knew he was lifting a brow at you.

“You’re wearing Soap’s bathrobe.” He commented.

“Someone vomited on my shirt.”

Simon did not reply, but he did turn around to rummage in his closet, throwing you one of his old shirts. You went back into the bathroom to put it on, and decided to not comment on the fact that it looked like a midi dress on you.

He closed the door behind him when he went to sleep, and the click of the lock felt a little insulting to you. Yet, you couldn’t expect him to trust you.

Sleep did not come easy to you, and when it did, you only had nightmares.

After a particularly bad one, you woke up with a start, only to find yourself face-to-face with one of your captors, face hid behind a balaclava, and you screamed.

Only after a few moments did you realize that it was Simon.

Between your panicked apologizing, and his nervous tea-making, it took a while for either of you to speak.

“I’m sorry for not telling you I was leaving.” He said finally, sitting across from you on the sofa, and still managing to take up three fourths of it.

“You didn’t have to. You didn’t know me.” You replied.

“I clung to you.” He said under his breath, as if it was an admittance of weakness.

“I liked it. Made me feel less alone.”

Your hands found each other in the dark, his fingers curling around yours and you swore that you could feel his heart hammer in his wrist.

“I don’t want to go to Manchester alone.” You whispered. It was an admittance of defeat.

“I’ll go with you.” Simon replied. He had no incentive to.

In the dark, it didn’t feel as preposterous or dangerous to move closer to him. He stilled when your knee bumped against his leg, and you held your breath, waiting for his rejection.

It didn’t come, only a shaky breath from Simon that gave the smallest of hints about how he was feeling. His hand was still holding yours, warm and a little rough, but it felt real. It made you move closer, to try and lean into his touch.

His hand slipped from yours, and for a moment, you thought that you’d done something wrong, but then you felt it on your waist, and Simon pulled you onto his lap. Your hands flew to his chest to steady yourself, and you could feel his hammering heart beating under his shirt.

Simon was so massive that he engulfed you, drowned out everything around you, and you loved it. There was nothing but him, and that didn’t scare you. It made you feel unfathomably safe.

He hugged you suddenly, a mirror gesture to what you’d done at the airport, his thick arms wrapping around you, pulling you even closer, until your lips were almost on his and he looked up at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t place, because no one had ever looked at you like that.

You couldn’t help kissing him. Slowly, asking, almost begging, you peeled up the lower half of his balaclava, waiting for him to tell you to stop. Instead, even in the darkness, you knew that the stubble on his jaw was blonde, because it was impossible to forget someone like him. Your lips found his and it felt so right that your hands snaked up to his jaw, cradling his face in the hope that he’d know you cared for him.

Simon returned your kiss equally as hungry, demanding the air you breathed from you, his embrace swallowing you, and you wanted to give it all to him. Your hands shook as you reached to slip them over the band of his sweats, still unsure if he’d reject you, or let you do it.

Cautiously, your hands slipped under his t-shirt first, his skin feeling like it was burning in comparison to your cold fingers, warm to the touch, and safe.

“I thought about you a lot.” You admitted between kisses. “Wanted to know what happened to you.”

Simon stilled at that, his gaze shifting, warping from one unreadable expression to another.

“Nothin’ good.” He replied finally. You felt like an idiot. Like you’d just ruined the moment.

“I’m sorry.” You said, because you had no idea what else to say. His hand found yours, and you felt like whatever was going to happen to you, it was going to be okay.

#simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x you #cod: mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod x you

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bluexiao · 1 year

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#his secret lover

— just a series where you are their secret lover… but you didn’t know because you weren’t from teyvat after all! (until you have memories of him and you every time you two touch)

CHARACTERS. self aware! Isekai! gn! Reader; Al-Haitham, Heizou, Tighnari, Scaramouche / Wanderer

THEMES. light sagau (self aware genshin au), isekai, fluff/crack, questionable but real established relationship, suggestive (light and in a few of them…), domestic (kind of inspired by several manhwas lmao), light angst on Tighnari’s??

NOTES. I planned for this to be a series so yep if there is anyone else you want me to cover, just hmu.

SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

You have to give him all the props, he had hidden you quite well.

Even as he was a Fatui Harbinger of a high enough ranking–for others, he was able to keep your identity a secret. Thus, the moment you opened your eyes and found yourself in the land of Teyvat without even knowing, you didn’t know about this.

Being transported to Inazuma was one thing that did take you a whileto notice until you came face to face with the tracks to Mt. Yougou and officially got to know a Yae Miko–an individual everyone seemed to have great respect for and the fox ears and tail were ones you have never seen in a person ever–at least not one that looked so real and looked exactly like a character in a game you’ve played in!

What Yae Miko and you talked about came in a blur because you were too much in your head, thinking about how everything suddenly made sense but didn’t at the same time. Yet you did uncover something in your identity in such a small conversation–it was that she knew you. Very well, that is. You felt that it was weird for her to suddenly come up and talk to you all of a sudden, all the more when she asked how you and your lover were–you almost let out a “Who in the world is my lover-Wait, I have one?!” but you managed to shut yourself up and said that you two were doing alright. Biggest mistake of your life.

The moment you saw Scaramouche, you didn’t even recognize him. He wore such different clothes that you barely had the time to stare and get a grip, not until he was right in front of you–actually, he marched right in front of you.

“Wash that stupid look on your face, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

For a moment, you were dumbfounded over the fact that he looked exactly like Scaramouche but not at all–was it the clothes? Or was it the soft look on his face that he kept on for a few seconds until he wipes it off—and you didn’t even have much time to respond before he adds on.

“And that fox is acting weirdly, did you say anything to her? Don’t tell me you slipped up and told her that you’re seeing me,” he sends you a look and your mind goes in spirals all the more.

You’re seeing who now?!

Seeing as you haven’t answered him yet and you were merely staring at him, this time, a different expression comes across his face, disappearing as fast as it had appeared.

“What in the world has gotten into you?” his voice turns softer this time, “is something wrong?”

He will actually end up pulling you aside and interrogating you for what had happened. That is! Until you remembered everything! The moment he held your hand, every single memory you have had with him came rushing in and you became dizzy that he will suddenly decide to just take you home.

You now came to recall everything that had occurred and everything fell into place, only now, you had memories of your memories in your real life–or was it really real??—back on Earth whilst having memories of your life in Teyvat. You remember receiving secret letters from Scaramouche and hearing all about his plans, and it momentarily stopped only to receive one yesterday, stating that he would come back home finally.

You still weren’t sure if you would tell him this is a game… but what is the use though? You haven’t gone through this timeline as well…

“Kuni… I lived two lives.” For some reason, it didn’t sit well for you to keep anything from him–it seems so wrong, so…weird. A month ago, he was just a character in a game you were playing for quite some time and now, he was here, right in front of you.

His lips were on your cheek as he takes a breath and the air hits your skin, tickling you ever so slightly.

“Is that so?” you couldn’t tell if he was taking you seriously or not, even more so when you felt him encircle his hands on your waist and pull you closer to his face, where you could meet his eyes that narrowed and the corners of his lips quirk up, “then have you kissed someone else in your other life? Other than me?”

You heard the slight pause in between his questions and felt him lean closer to you. “Do they kiss you as good as I do?”

Actually, he meant to ask if you loved someone else other than him or not, but no, he can’t let you think of someone else when you have him right beside you. And besides… if you had another life, then that means he has nothing to worry about in this life… right?

That thought haunts him every night.

AL-HAITHAM

Being in a relationship with The Scribe is a big thing already. And all the more so with a person like him.

After all, it is not so much of a secret that he does bear a good appearance, albeit his personality, he was someone who was particularly popular to ladies and men alike. Maybe for different reasons but most were the same.

For you, one look at him and you could tell that everyone was right–he really was attractive, but no one would have the guts to come near him with his presence alone. You were only getting used to being transported into this world when you came across the Akademiya and he so suddenly passed by you. You couldn’t stop yourself from admitting that eye contact with him sent shivers down your spine and made you momentarily freeze in place. Even more so when he oh-so conveniently greeted you with a small smirk.

“Good morning, Y/n,” it was a ghost of a smile–it almost seemed like it was just a sight only for you.

Only, it was the truth, and you found out about it when you opened the door to your “home” and saw the face of the person that almost made you have a heart attack just moments ago.

“Oh-I mean, hi! Uhm-” you struggled to formulate anything else from your mouth that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. You wanted to ask him why he was at your door when he chuckled right at you. When you openly stared at him, however, you could see his brow suddenly raise in confusion.

“Y/n… as far as I like the attention and seeing your flustered face, I am not that much interested in holding a staring contest against you at the door to our home,” he clearly was caught off guard as he clears his throat and looks away, “your home… pardon me for forgetting.”

He will definitely feel like something had happened to make you act quite weirdly, but he would not come up with a conclusion so suddenly, however, as he is beginning to gather up his observations, you eventually return back to “normal”, where you don’t freeze up whenever he shows up in front of you, or whenever he tries to lean in for a kiss, or any other physical intimacy that you seem to stutter about.

Actually, for him, it did feel like you were back in your past self–easily getting flustered or embarrassed. For you, though, the memories that the “Teyvat You” had accumulated slowly but surely came to you each day you spent with Al-Haitham, almost too calculative that you felt like everything that had happened seemed to be much more real than the “Earth You”.

And because of this, you begin to open up to your lover about your experience and decided to ask for his opinion. With all the time you had spent with him, you became much more comfortable with having to talk to him without stuttering and enough for you to tell the truth of your identity–but not enough to tell him that this world is merely inside a game. Fortunately, he would not be able to figure this out as this is something very unpresidential.

“Are you saying that another soul… but it’s still you… entered this body, and now you have memories of you here, as well as you back in your world,” he did not seem to end it in a question, more like a demand for you to tell him more or for you to explain it to him clearly without having a hard time to do so yourself–he could not really blame you… it is not such a “normal” occurrence that even he wouldn’t be able to explain himself if it had happened to him, not that he would be as inaccurate as you are.

He does try to help you uncover the truth and adjust well! After all, he is quite thirsty for knowledge (as much as you were to hi-) and there would be no things left unturned, especially considering that it was about you.

He does find it odd whenever you do a couple of things that you did not use to do—such as say a couple of words that are not in Teyvat’s vocabulary, from what he knows of—but he eventually grows accustomed to them, just as quick as you become accustomed to this “new life”—or it wasn’t really.

He does ask you a couple of questions (a LOT) about how your life was in the other world. You tell him of all the technologies and inventions you came to know and well you should not be that much surprised if he ends up covering them for his research or whatever. So do make sure to keep some of that knowledge to yourself!

TIGHNARI

The moment you wake, you found yourself lying in the middle of the forest, all alone, yet surrounded by mushrooms that you knew for sure you had never seen before.

They had brighter shades, compared to the ones you normally eat, which means-

“Are they poisonous? Or worse…” you mutter to yourself, horrified as you look at each of the mushrooms. Then everything turns black.

When you wake again, you were greeted by a different view–a hut, precisely… or it seems like it. You had a familiar feeling set in once you looked around you, however, but as soon as you heard the slightest bit of movement, you instinctively closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep.

“No point trying to act like you’re still unconscious, Y/n, you may open your eyes.”

The voice—it felt too familiar that even if you wanted to pretend a little bit more, you couldn’t help but be curious–why was it even familiar when-

Your jaw fell and your mouth hang open as soon as you came face to face with him–a man with long ears (fox ears? What are they-A fennec? Why does he look like… someone…) and his sense of fashion being… quite an eh-

“Huh? What is it? Is there something on my face?”

Now that you had heard his voice again, you came to realize that he does sound like the same person he looks very much alike to–Tighnari from that game you’ve played.

What in the-

“I must be dreaming right now, aren’t I?”

He sends a look at you and with crossed arms, says, “If you were, I can say I’m quite flattered to have you dream about me, but you are not dreaming so my gratitude is rather useless.”

And as he casually tries to check your temperature and your vitals, his touch makes you jump with a sudden “memory” that you two apparently had… of the times he took care of you after you appear to have been either injured or came across some weird mushrooms–which also seems to be the case this time around.

“What is it? Did it hurt when I touched you?” He does notice this and does not hesitate to ask you, but with all that was happening, you failed to notice the concerned look in his eyes but it did not stop the pressure that was building in your chest—so you lied. “No… I’m fine, just a bit jumpy… ‘s all.”

He may raise a brow at this but he brushes it off, and in the end, you might not be able to say the truth to him because… well, you didn’t have a chance! Every time you try to do so, it’s either he holds your hand or you hold his and a memory pops up and everything in your plan gets messed up!

He’s sort of a physical lover. You wouldn’t be able to believe it either, especially since you didn’t really know much about him until you came here and realized that it actually makes a lot of sense for him to be so.

He initiates a lot of it too! So much so that whenever you feel his tail wrap around your arm or your waist or him trying to request of you to pet his ears… you feel a little guilty somehow.

In the end, you were keeping something from him… and you still haven’t told it yet.

HEIZOU

You had just woken up and minutes later, you were stuck in a rather… awkward conversation.

“Are you saying… I’m in Teyvat?! And you’re Heizou?!”

The boy in front of you has a furrowed brow as he crosses his arms over your chest, “Hm? Where else should you be except for here? Right beside me?” he grins at the momentary victory of having to come up with a way to try and fluster you, but apparently, this time, it wasn’t working.

He, above most of the others, would figure it out immediately–well, not the entire story, no. He will be able to deduce that you must hae forgotten a piece or two (or maybe even all) of your memory and in turn, makes you very confused as to where you were and who is he–I mean, how could you even forget who he is? He courted you for so long and now he will have to go through that all over again?

You don’t remember everything as fast as his interrogation skills, however, and he will begin to question you before you even get to have your “memories” back, and when you do, you were already finished telling him of your life back in Earth and it seems you might have slipped that Teyvat is inside a game called Genshin Impact, which is how Heizou came into the conclusion of the truth.

You really wouldn’t be able to hide anything from this man because he knows his way around interrogation that even if you try to lie, it will only be for your demise. Well, it does seem like he wasn’t taking you seriously, but hey, at least he wasn’t being awkward about it now… or maybe he’s just REALLY not taking you seriously.

Anyway, it was a kiss that eventually makes you remember—not everything, but at least something.

“This is not gonna do… you act, speak, and look exactly like Y/n, and yet-“

“But my name is really Y/n! And… I think I remember something.”

“So you were able to recall something after our lips touched,” he brings a hand on his chin, contemplating, as you feel your face heat up.

“If you put it that way…”

“Then should we do it more? Kissing, I mean.”

“Sure, I-wait… what?”

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

taglist on the reblogs!

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #heizou x reader #tighnari x reader #genshin fluff #genshin sagau #sagau scaramouche #sagau heizou #sagau alhaitham #sagau tighnari

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atalentedwriter · 1 year

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— love is a million things

paring: e-1610!miles x blackfemspidey!reader (both spider people)

a/n: i don't speak spanish i'm sorry but i used the most accurate translator i could find. if i made ANY mistakes, feel free to hmu and tell me i will certainly change em. gif from @luvjunie

sypnosis: in which the reader is in love with miles but there's really no way of winning if in his eyes, you'll always be just a friend (he loves gwen not you) (ノへ￣、)

wordcount: 1,870 words and 9,904 characters

genre: fluff, teenagers, romance, unrequited love, angst, slightly suggestive but not really

translations: "no lo parece" - "doesn't seem like it." "dime ya las pistas." - "just tell me the hints already. "dime otra pista." - "tell me another hint."

"I'm just saying, love is a million things. Sometimes it feels good, sometimes it doesn't." You say as you sit on Miles' bed, the male looking at you from his desk, turning around in his chair and shrugging you off.

"Yeah right, and have you ever experienced love to know what that feels like?" Miles asked and you paused, hesitant with your response before you bite your lower lip and nod.

"I'd like to think I have, yes." You say, looking down at your feet and then up at Miles who looked at you intently. Wow, he had really beautiful eyes.

"Oh yeah? And did it feel good or bad?" He questions as a small frown forms on your lips. "Sometimes...a lot of times..it...- it differs okay, it differs but that's besides my point-" you say and he laughs, your heart fluttering at the sound, despite knowing him since the first day he walked into Brooklyn Visions, his laugh and voice just did something to you.

"How'd that end out for you? The guy didn't like you back or what?" He says, turning around to his desk as you grab his pillow and hold it up to your stomach. How are you gonna describe him to him without him figuring it out?

"Well, let's just say, there was 3 of us in the situationship.." you start off and you notice his ears perk up. "Oh?" He asks. You roll your eyes. "Not in that way silly, it wasn't poly or anything it was more of an unrequited love situation."

He picks up his sketchbook and turns back to you. "That must suck." He said, looking up at you. "It did.." "How did you get over it." You frown. "I didn't, it's hard to stop loving someone when everything they do makes you fall back in love with them."

He laughed again and shook his head. "That's so corny." He rolled his chair over to where you sat on the bed and open his sketchbook, placing it in your lap.

"Another drawing...of Gwen..." you seethe.

"Yup, I really think I got her suit down but I'm just relying on memory here." He says as you bite your cheek. "I mean I'd like to think she still kept her hair, I mean it's a bit weird to walk around with someone's handprint in your head- gosh I still get ptsd from that da-"

"Why do you bother liking her?" You blurt out.

uh-oh. word vomit.

"What?" Miles asks, taken aback as he looks at you.

"I mean, she's in a completely different universe Miles, it's never gonna happen." You say, your words coming out a bit ruder than you had wanted it to.

He frowns and looks at you. "Well damn (y/n), sorry. I can't control what I feel." Miles said as he picks up his notebook from your lap and rolls away back to his desk, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his face.

"oh my gosh.." You mutter out, running your hand over your face before you look up at him. "Miles I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean it like?" Miles asks, not bothering to look at you.

"I just- don't want to see you get hurt. You're my best friend okay and...I care a lot about your feelings and...-"

"No lo parece." He grumbled under his breath, and thanks to your enhanced senses, you picked it up.

"Excuse me?" You say, as a hothead, you were already getting defensive but you sighed and unballed your fists. That's why you liked Miles, why you needed him around, he calmed you down without you both even knowing it. "It's just....sigh..interdimensional love never works out, I've seen it in the movies-"

"Pfft-"

The small muffled laughter catches your attention. "What?" You question as you look up to see Miles staring at you, hand over his mouth. "Are you laughing at me? I'm pouring my heart out to you man."

"Sorry, I just can't take you seriously everytime you talk about movies like that one time we got stuck in that elevator-" he starts.

"I thought we were gonna run out of air!" You counter, whining as he starts laughing at you. And just like that, you were back to your regular state, neither of you guys can be mad at each other for long.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before you look up at him to find the boy already staring at you and it sends butterflies down your stomach. "Hey Miles..?"

"Hm?" He hums, rolling his chair to get closer to you until he was sitting right next to the edge of the bed where you currently were.

"Um, what would you do if you loved someone- in this dimension-"

"Ouch.." the boy playfully said and you rolled your eyes.

"But they loved someone else.." you finish.

"First of all love is a very strong word." Miles starts off and narrows his eyes at you, causing you to straighten your back at his gaze.

"Well in this context it's accurate, like I'd do crazy things for this man...like a lot-" you start, and Miles rolls his eyes.

"I don't need to know what you'd do twin." Miles jokes as you smile before he crosses his arms. "Does the guy know you like him?"

You look at Miles and shake your head. "No."

"Have you given him hints you like him?" Miles raises an eyebrow and you bite your lip.

"What kind of hints?"

"Touching."

"Define that, cause we're touching right now." You motion to how his arm that was on his knee was barely grazing your leg. He looked down and then looked up before breaking out into a grin.

"If that's your definition of touching then you're super touch starved." Miles laughed as you sigh.

"Dime ya las pistas." You say, agitated.

"Okay okay, so touching, just subtle touches...like...this." Miles looks down and moves his hand and places it on your lap, using his thumb to work on rubbing small circles on your inner thigh, rubbing his hand slowly but subtly on your lap before looking up and smiling at you. He was flashing that oh-so-beautiful smile at you.

The fact that you were wearing shorts made it easier to feel his warm skin on yours. The sparks that this simple movement sent coursing through you made you wonder if he was using his zap on you.

"See, you're blushing." He says, cooing at you jokingly.

"Am not!" You counter as you snap out of your trance, looking at him. Had it not been for the melanin on your face right now, you would've been red like a tomato. Lord, this man knew just how to touch and rub your skin. (pause, what are you thinking about? 🤨) Your cheeks were hot.

"Or like this." He moved his hand from your lap and you almost whined at the absence of his hand on you but then he moved his hand to your arm, caressing it softly.

Your eyes followed his hands, almost in a trance-like state before you look back up at the boy.

"Now that's just one tactic.." he said as he started talking but you couldn't hear a damn word.

His beautiful face so close to your skin and the fact that he still hadn't stopped caressing your arm, ugh. You hated this, he was so lovable, it was hard to just let go of these feelings especially since this man never gave you an ick! His dorky nature fit him and was cute on him and his teenage awkwardness was even more adorable. And he's so attractive when he's spiderman- hold up, what was he saying again?

"...kiss me." He spoke out, ending his sentence.

"What?!" You say, shocked, where you daydreaming or something?

"What?" He asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Were you even listening to what I was saying?"

"Somethin' kissin' or somethin' i don't know.." You mutter out as he laughs.

"You're unbelievable. I meant you have to be bold with your actions but not too bold and you have word vomits a lot so don't just like tell him to kiss you or something like that." He said as it dawned on you.

"Oh, that made much more sense."

He bit his lip and smiled causing your eyes to flicker down to his lips that looked just too kissable. Damn. You looked back up to find him already looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face, just now realizing how close he was.

"What..?" You say, your voice coming out breathless. He looked down, shaking his head before looking up at you with a smile, your eyes meeting.

"...You're like...the weirdest girl I've ever met." He spoke out which caused you to put your hands on his chest and push him back.

"Whatever!" You say, snapping out of the trance he had pulled you into once again.

He chuckled and moved back but only momentarily before leaning back in again, confusing you. He put both arms at the side of you, resting it on the bed as he leaned in closer.

You thought he was going to kiss you, it looked like it and so you tensed up unknowingly to which the boy raised an eyebrow, cracking another one of his contagious smiles.

"Relax, I'm just getting my markers." He moves up his right hand to show the markers he already had in his grip, he was just leaning in for them, you felt stupid. "I'm not gonna hit you or anything." He says, leaning back into his chair as you sighed.

"Dime otra pista." You say. You can't belive Miles was teaching you how to rizz him up.

"Well another one would be like teasing or like going out of your way to talk to them and eye contact is a big one." Miles concluded, resting his leg horizontally on his other one.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed with Miles looking at you and you just looking at your lap.

"Miles...?" You asked as he hummed again in response. "Do you ever plan on leaving Brooklyn? And have you ever thought about what would happen if you do? Like with spiderman and stuff?" You ask as he takes a moment to consider your question.

"Well.." He pauses. "I'm not sure, I do know I want to study outside Brooklyn for university that's for sure, I mean there's people out there that can-"

"Teach me stuff I want to know." You finish his sentence for him and he pauses and looks at you.

"Freaky." He says with a grin as you giggle. "But it'll all fall into place, I'm sure, I don't want to worry about the future too much yknow?"

"Yeah.." you mutter and look at him again.

"What about you?" He asks, tilting his head to the side.

"I'll go wherever you go Miles.." You reply subconsciously as you smile at him.

"Okay you've gotta get better life goals for yourself." Miles jokes as you two fall into a heap of giggles, leaving you with a new-found goal already.

You were going to confess to this man.

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onlyseokmins · 2 years

Text

[18:26] • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship kind of ig hehehe

Warnings: possessiveness, mild jealousy, mean!seok but he's whipped kind of, fingering but not really, slight choking, a tiny bit of degradation, as usual just hmu if I missed smth

WC: tumblr mobile bby it's kinda short tbh

A/N: unplanned smh but as seokmin's self-proclaimed slut I just kinda had to get it out of my system idk I'm not good at this 🤪 read a line out of a manhwa and yuh went w/ it procrastinating on other things hehe

Update 9/19: [Sequel]

"Aw baby, you're absolutely drooling."

Despite the flush of embarrassment at Seokmin's condescending tone, your hips betray you as they buck up desperately against his hand. Long fingers that have been teasing you for hours gather up your arousal, making sure to spread it all across your outer pussy lips so they glisten in the dim light of his bedroom.

There's enough wetness for him to play with that it's also smeared on both of your inner thighs from Seokmin's hand drifting down to pause at each one while he waits for you to beg. Glancing up at your scrunched forehead as you kneel over one of his thighs, he leans back against the headboard. Almost as if he's bored.

His other hand reaches out to tug at the cute pout that causes the corners of your mouth to turn down. "Your pussy is at least. Cute."

"Seokmin... "

"Is it that hungry for my cock?"

You whine and throw your head back, nails digging into the top of his shoulders as you rut desperately against his palm, hoping a finger may slip inside your needy cunt.

But Seokmin remains firm. Palm remaining flat and fingers stiffly held horizontally. A smile grows on his lips but it's not the sweet, bright ray of happiness everyone's used to. It's downright cruel, complimenting the hard set of his jaw, furrowed eyebrows, and darkened gaze.

"That's not the answer I want." He pulls away to lick his fingers clean, eyes fluttering shut briefly as he tastes you on his tongue before they open again. Narrowed and colder than before. "What do I want to hear from that lovely mouth of yours?"

"I'm... I'm yours."

He lets out a hum. "That thought's nice but not it."

"I-I don't understa — "

Mirthless laughter you hardly recognize is drowned out by your loud gasp when he harshly gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail and uses it to tug your face close. Merely inches apart. Enough that your breath mingles with his but holding you distant so your lips can't touch his.

"How about, 'yes Seokmin, my pathetic, perfect little pussy wants you in it so bad.'"

"Y-ye — "

"'Fuck me stupid so I can't walk straight.'" A finger traces around your hole that desperately aches for it to enter. "'So I don't think about anything except your cock deep, deep inside me. Every single day, every single night.'"

"Please — "

"'Enough so no other man even dares to make a move on me.' Hm?"

You have to smile smugly at that one. "I knew it. You're jealous. Baby, there's absolutely no reas — "

The world spins as Seokmin easily switches positions, flipping you on your stomach. He's above you, pinning you down with the strength of his own body before kneeling behind you and running a hand up and down your back. Softness resonates from his fingertips despite the venom behind his words, as if he's suddenly afraid of breaking you.

"There's absolutely no reason to feel that way," you finish with a gasp. "You know tha — "

"I said, that's not what I wanted to hear." Seokmin interrupts and frowns even though he can't help but appreciatively look at the way you arch your back prettily for him. Showing off your dripping pussy from another angle. "Seems like you don't listen very well, sweetheart."

"Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it."

You're feisty attitude returns like you have the upper hand now that you know the reason behind Seokmin's different demeanor tonight. And you take every advantage of it, grinding your ass coyly against the bulge of his dick still inside his jeans.

About two seconds of your shenanigans last before he's pulling you up by your hair again, the back of your body pressed snug up against his. A hand wrapping around your throat to keep you still. He squeezes lightly and you moan.

"What am I going to do about it? Don't worry, I'm gonna fuck you silly, darling." A shiver of excitement crawls up your spine when you hear his belt buckle jingle. "But that's only if you behave. You know what to say to get what you want."

"Ah," you gasp out and tug at his hands, bringing them to fondle at your chest. "Please fuck me stupid, Seokmin. So I think of nobody but you and everyone knows that. This pussy and body belongs to you. I'm yours."

He kisses your neck, pleased. Like he wasn't fuming and demanding such words. "As you wish, my love."

#ez.creates #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #dk smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #svt.smut

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skibasyndrome · 7 months

Text

Finally making a pinned post, hope I do this right

my name is Simon, you can call me that or skibasyndrome or any variation of either that you can think of

25-y/o university student with a passion for literature and languages and everything surrounding that (hmu, I will talk about it for hours)

me and tumblr go way back (like... 2012 way back), but it's only through my very recent discovery of Young Royals (August 2023) that I decided to get back into online fan spaces after a long break (best decision ever btw)

I'm gay and a trans man and this show is so, so healing for my inner baby queer

I mostly just write fics (or talk about writing)

Feel free to reach out and talk to me about anything and everything, I love talking to people :)

things to note about this blog

I will simp about Omar Rudberg. Sorry, I'm just too gay for whatever it is he is doing 24/7

there's almost always a party in my tags because that's where I go to voice my opinions or just be... emotionally affected by things

hope you like Young Royals, because there's rarely anything else on here these days

personal posts are tagged "simon.out."

should go without saying but fuck right off with any -isms or -phobias

My Young Royals fics (I'm skibasyndrome on ao3)

It seems a place for us to dream (T, 1.8 k)

Or: The things going through Wilhelm's head during that S3 snippet.

You crave the Applause / Yet hate the Attention (E, chaptered, 4/4, 22.3 k)

Or: How Wilhelm realizes that maybe, if you squint a little, he might have a praise kink.

But I'm a vampire smile, you'll meet a sticky end (E, 4.1 k)

Or: Simon's vampire-esque makeup is really doing things to Wilhelm that he didn't expect. A Halloween fic.

In This Together (T, 3.5 k)

Or: Wilhelm tries — and fails — to surprise Simon with hot chocolate. Simon doesn't mind. Contribution to Wilmon Secret Santa 2023.

It's in the water, baby (E, 4.9 k)

Or: A sweet and spicy story sponsored by the infamous Lake Still (TM) s3 promo pic.

Never Letting You Go (E, 5.7 k)

Or: The infamous Hallway Smut (TM) Scene as briefly seen in the S3 trailer and (re)imagined by me. There's light angst, sex, and so many feelings.

Lavender Haze (E, 13.3 k)

Or: Wilhelm spots the most gorgeous man in a nightclub. He's wearing a lavender shirt that makes Wilhelm's head spin and imagination run wild. And a smile that does things to his heart he's not quite sure what to make of yet.

All this shit is new to me (E, chaptered, 3/?, 24 k)

Or: After meeting and hooking up with Simon at a club, Wille needs to figure out what exactly that means for them (or whether there even is a "them" to figure out). A sequel to Lavender Haze.

Wille's Month 2024:

Day 1 (Sandwich): Vegan butter, two slices of Gouda, a few slices of cucumber (G, 1.6 k) Day 8 (Wedding/Engagement): Roots of Love (T, 1.2 k) Day 9 (Riding): Close, Closer (E, 1.3 k) Day 25 (Hands): Got my Hands all over You (E, 7.1 k)

#skibasyndrome #simon.out.

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magnuficent76 · 23 days

Note

Hi! Do you mind if you tell me more about Melaine? Ze seems really cool!! :D (And I'd love it if our ocs interacted sometime! All of yours are so interesting! <3 )

HOWDY !! Tysmmm :D AND I WOULD LOVE TO SEE OUR OCS INTERACTING OMGGG !! YOURS ARE SUPER COOL AS WELLL just hmu and we can set. A playdate for them /silly And2 Of course ! I would love to tell you about herrr <3

Doctor Melaine T. Curatella Malpratti (She/Ze) is a notorious name within the medical community for zir larger than life goals and aspirations, always looking to the brightest possible future and doing everything in zir power to attain it. Her most notorious projects as of currently are her mutagen research, in which she questionably puts herself as the main subject for its trials, and advancements in fields of biology and evolutionary studies. Ze is known for being incredibly impulsive, easily excited when it comes to her fields of interest (Namely insects and anatomy), and very, very, Incredibly stubborn. Ze is set in zir goals and it takes very major interference to get her to stop once she's onto something, and even then it might not be enough because she's reckless wnough to go through it anyway. She is my special blorbo who has never done anything wrong in zir life (aside from the unethical experiments maybe)

Melaine has been mutating herself with insectoid mutagen of her own creation (specifically Mantis mutagen), and it's really just a topic of joy for her. Ze believes in the ever changing nature of things, and trusts zir abilities to be able to interfere with nature with how ze is currently doing it without causing disaster, and... well, so far she's succeeded with every experiment. Her passion has allowed for massive discoveries in DNA studies, evolutionary possibilities for human beings, and cell regeneration, but ze's pretty uninterested in success given ze has been missing from public eye for nearly two decades now, stuck in her reclusive state for studying and... not much else. After the death / disappearance of her husband, it's pretty hard to say where ze went exactly. But there are always rumours.

When she isn't just being Strange and Sciency however, she's generally a very friendly person who is intensely compassionate to everything, even if zir workaholic behaviors keep her from showing that side to people most often <3 Once you have zir invested in a conversation, ze can talk for hours on end, but as a whole ze tends to stay mostly quiet and mysterious in some corner (She doesn't know her turn to talk and is avoiding embarassment). If you ask her about her interests she'll talk your ears off BUT ze will also want you to infodump back as a form of friendliness. Ze's everything ever to me here's a bunch of her <3

#Audience participation #txt #My oc stuff #my oc rambles #my oc art #Beloved mutuals tag <3 #original character #original art #my art #Caede Tales #Fan oc #Fan character #Borderlands oc #Oc: Melaine #digital art #Lore moment #TYSM FOR THE ASKKKK <3333 I HAD TO DO SOMETHING SO IT TOOK A WHILE BUT HERE IT ISSS #magocs #magart

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the-salem-devil · 2 years

Note

hi😭 i just finished season 2 and darius??????? pls hmu ill do anything for u babe😭😭 but if possible could you write some like 👀👀 darius x reader smut/nsfw with dom darius 😩 fem/gn reader please if possible!!! thank you so so so much!!!

DOM!DARIUS DEAMONNE X READER [LINGERIE KINK]

I had a filthy idea, a Pinterest board and a dream, enjoy baby.

Darius got this look sometimes, it was one you’ve become familiar with along the course of your relationship.

It was hard to pick exactly what it was, it overtook his features in a flash and slipped away just as fast, it peaked your curiosity but not enough to ever ask about it, and you weren’t exactly worried about the rare anonymous look that crossed his handsome face as you anxiously picked at the silky lace stocking pulled up your leg.

The idea of purchasing this mesh, lavender lingerie set seemed really good in the moment, but now that the floral lace was finally wrapped around your flushed skin you were having second thoughts, but you didn’t want to put it to waste since his money did pay for it, after he continuously insisted you use it to treat yourself more, this was your idea of a compromise.

Just as the temptation to take it off and hide it away in his large closet started to sound more appealing the doorknob twisted.

Your boyfriend pushed open the door, a tiredness clinging to his features that made your heart ache a little, the day of unity has been more taxing on the coven heads than your lover would admit, and you looked forward to the day being over so your partner could rest.

He opened his mouth, intending to call out to you, but his entire body froze when his emerald eyes landed on your form, draping across the couch and his mouth stayed slightly parted.

You gave him a nervous smile, curling slightly into yourself as his wide eyes start to burn a path down your body, still wide from surprise.

Than that look washed over his features, and before you had time to study it and decipher its meaning he was close to you, the heat from his body brushing against the bared parts of your skin as he stands inches away from you.

You feel the soft cashmere of his gloved finger touch your chin as he tilts your head up slightly, his smooth lips just inches from yours, “Well, aren’t you looking just beautiful, my love.” his other hand strokes your shoulder.

You flush harder, embarrassment and arousal fighting for dominance in your stomach, a mix of both making your gut drop when he pulls away slightly, his eyes greedily taking you in and smirking when his eyes drag back up to your face.

That look is burning bright in his green eyes, and your lips part softly when the answer clicks in your head.

His strong hands pull your legs apart, running up your thighs and hooking his fingers on your underwear, pulling them down and letting them pool at your ankles.

Pushing you softly back, you allow your body to give out and lay back down, he straddles your thighs and takes another moment to appreciate you.

Your lover gets this look, like he just realised, he could take you at any moment and he knows you’d love it.

#darius deamonne #toh darius x reader #darius x reader headcannons #toh darius #darius toh #the owl house #the owl house fanfiction

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sluttywonwoo · 2 years

Note

thinking about telling your close friend changkyun that you’re still a virgin and him not being judgmental. he’d ask you if there was a specific reason and if you say no he’d just offer to be your first since you too are so close and trusting of each other. wouldn’t put pressure on you just “hmu if you’re dtf”

out of all the things you thought would happen today, having your friend between your legs was not one of them. but here you are on your sofa as he makes out with your cunt, tongue fucking you like his life depends on it, wondering how you’d gotten yourself into this.

changkyun had come over just before noon, dropping off your groceries since it was his turn to do the shopping this week. he’d planned to go home after that but you asked him to stay, whining about being bored— so then both of your groceries chilled in your fridge while you lounged on the couch together.

somehow the topic of sex came up, as you pried about a date that he’d gone on a few nights before, and that’s what led to you confessing your lack of experience in the bedroom.

“she was just… kinda going through the motions, you know what i mean?” he asked.

“no, not really,” you replied quietly.

“like, you know when you’re on autopilot and not even enjoying the sex with your partner?” he tried again, attempting to explain it to you in a way you’d understand.

“i wouldn’t know anything about sex, actually,” you clarified, watching as his eyes widened in realization. “i mean, i know about sex! i know how it works and everything and i’ve watched porn—”

you should stop talking now.

“you’re a virgin?” changkyun asked, thankfully skimming right past your other embarrassing comments. “not that that’s a bad thing!” he added almost immediately. “it’s just, i wouldn’t have guessed.”

you shrugged. “yeah, i haven’t dated much and any other opportunity hasn’t really come up.”

“do you want to lose your virginity?”

“i guess,” you mused, “it seems like i’m the only person our age who hasn’t at this point. the concept of virginity is stupid, but i still feel like i’m missing out on all the fun of casual sex because i waited around like an idiot.”

“hey, if anything you’re the smart one here,” changkyun pointed out. “causal sex is never just sex, no matter how hard other people try and sell it to be. it’s such an intimate thing to do with another person, it’s impossible not to get your feelings involved. so in a way, you’re saving yourself a lot of heartbreak.”

“that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“sorry… but maybe i could help?”

you chuckled and rolled your eyes. “how? are you gonna set me up with one of your buddies who’s willing to take one for the team and ‘deflower me’?”

changkyun’s gaze hardened the tiniest bit, making your smile falter just a little. “don’t make it sound like sleeping with you is some sort of charity work. a lot of people would jump at the chance.”

you scoffed but didn’t argue. you knew changkyun didn’t like when you spoke badly of yourself and you were already walking the line with your first comment.

“but no, not one of my friends,” he continued, “me.”

“you?”

“yes, me. is that a bad thing?”

“no, i just… wasn’t expecting you to offer.”

“you don’t have to take me up on it, obviously. but if you wanted to get it out of the way i could help you out.”

“you’d be willing to do that?”

“again with the ‘willing to’!” he groaned. “you’re not a fucking chore that someone’s gotta do, okay?”

“i’m sorry, i’m just not used to that sort of attention.”

“i know, it’s okay. but what do you say? no pressure, of course.”

you paused to think as if you hadn’t decided the moment the words left his mouth. you knew it was probably a bad idea— and there was no way it could end well. it didn’t help that you already had a crush on your friend, in fact that’s what made everything worse. he’d said it himself that emotions tend to get involved regardless of intentions… but since it was already too late for that anyway-

“i’d like that,” you admitted finally, bringing yourself to look changkyun in the eyes again.

he grinned and took your hand in his, squeezing gently. “okay, lie down on your back.”

“wait, you meant right now?” you choked out. you needed to shower, you needed to shave, you needed to… put on panties that weren’t stained with bleach.

“yeah, why not? might as well, right?”

“o-okay,” you agreed with a nod.

“are you sure you want to do this? you didn’t just agree because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings?”

“no, i want to, i promise. i’m just a little nervous.”

he squeezed your hand again in reassurance. “it’s okay to be nervous. we’ll go slow. can you lay down for me?”

you did as he asked this time and held your breath as he positioned himself between your thighs. “is it okay if i start by eating you out? you need to be prepped before you can take anything bigger.”

“y-yes, that’s fine.”

he released your hand to bring both of his own down to the waistband of your sweats, thumbs running over the elastic hesitantly. “i’ll make you feel good, okay? just tell me what you’re feeling.”

#answered #anon #monsta x smut #mx smut #changkyun smut #im smut #i.m smut

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onewmin · 1 year

Text

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 4 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, descriptions of blood and gore, profanity, mental issues, angst, clichés, typos, the reader’s confused about everything. Everything's described from the reader's pov, so if you don't get something or the narration seems blurred - that's the purpose lol

Author’s note: it took me long to finish this part, idk why. The way the story develops may seem too slow, but that's the goal, actually. And I'm a fan of slow narration, so it is what it is. Next part will be more action-packed, I swear 🫣 Hope you enjoy!! tell me what you think <3

P.S. I’m still taking requests for the taglist, so if you want to be on it, hmu 😙

Part 3 | Part 5

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Having said rushed goodbyes to Yugyeom, you flew out of the coffee shop and sprinted in the direction of the hospital. The voice in the back of your head squeaked, scolding you for leaving him in such a manner, but you didn’t really care. He woke up. He was okay.

Despite being out of breath and feeling pain in your legs, you kept on running, as if you had to bolt from the police. Another elevator ride — shit, you should have just taken the stairs — and you were the first one to get out the second it stopped at the necessary floor.

Chan’s parents and Minho weren’t there; you assumed, in the quick observation of the hall, they had either been in the hospital room with him or with the doctor. Whatever.

You stopped only at the room’s entrance, catching your breath. Through a small glass window in the door, you saw Chan, sitting on his bed with the phone in his hands. Alone.

Breathe in, breathe out. You tried to briefly fix your hair, in a desperate attempt to make it less messy from the running. Taking another deep breath, you pushed the door, making your presence visible to him too.

You closed the door and just stood there, gawking at him. He raised his eyes at you, slowly. Holding this eye-contact, your palms started sweating, and you automatically wiped them on your pants, every small action of yours followed by Chan’s gaze.

He hissed, standing up; pressing his hand to his left side, Chan didn’t break the eye contact, staring at you as if he’d been trying to catch every meticulous detail of your face.

Your eyes welled up at the sight of him, physically broken because of you. The guilt that had risen on the day of the accident was the only feeling you didn’t suppress; to be honest, you weren’t able to get rid of her. She was eating you alive, mouth full of blood from your torn apart heart, agonizing you with the blame you had put on yourself. If you hadn’t sent those texts, he wouldn’t have got into the accident. If you had waited for one more day, maybe, just maybe, he would have been okay now.

But he was there. Bandages on his head, bandages on his hands, but he was there. Bruised, broken but alive. Conscious.

The breath was knocked out of your lungs during the next few steps you made. Chan was standing there, still, waiting; your height difference was nothing — just your nose slightly brushing the bridge of his — and your hands cupped his cheeks cautiously. You were so scared to bring him more pain that every move of your body had to be calculated.

Following his gaze, that darted from your eyes to lips, you took a final leap before your jump off the cliff’s edge, a jump you’d be making to finally let your feelings intertwine with his. You were in love with each other, and you both knew it. So you were jumping not into an abyss, you were getting ready to jump into a lake, with warm water, opal sky above it. You were jumping into your personal heaven.

Your mouths collided messily; the salty tears mixing up with Chan’s taste. He might have had something sweet to eat before, so it was even more addictive. You moved your lips carefully, afraid to scare him away. Palms pressed to his cheeks, you felt a hand on your waist. He responded to a kiss, slowly pecking your lips before taking control. His lips were chapped, and you could touch every small bite he’d made just by moving your lips.

Kissing Chan had always been something you craved, craved even more than sex. The first kiss with him was like a first shot of tequila, warmness spreading inside your chest, intoxicating taste pushing you to the brink of dizziness, always desiring and taking more. But this time… It was relieving, needy; it was as if you’d been lying amidst a desert, suffering from drought for years before a teary, salty rain blessed you with another day. You were going to live.

You broke the kiss, fogged up glasses forbidding to see Chan’s face without a blur. He was looking at you, and that was enough.

“I thought I lost you”, you whispered in his lips, hands still on his cheeks. A half-smile from him, a smile you missed so much, a smile that was a drop of water in your endless thirst.

Chan leaned in, his lips brushing over yours; and you were there, parting your lips to taste him again, to kiss him at any possible moment, whenever he felt like it.

But before you could drown in him yet again, Chan pulled away, smile fading.

“Don’t”. His hands were on yours, removing them softly.

“Sorry”, you sniffed, taking your glasses off and wiping them with the hem of your shirt. “You can’t move a lot, and this… This is too much for someone, who…”.

“No”. He sat back down on the bed, eyes scanning you. “Don’t ever do that again”.

What? “What?”

A touch on your shoulder, the one you’d become familiar with lately, slowly pushed you back, tugging, as if he was making you leave the room.

“No”, you brushed Minho’s hand off. “What are you saying?”

Only then you noticed the bore he stared at you with, the exhaustion in his sighs signaling he was already done with the conversation.

Dumbfounded, you stood there, gawking at him and thinking your ears were lying to you. He could not have said that, right? Not right after you two kissed, no. Right?

Lee Know finally managed to take you from the room to the hall, closing the door behind him. Taking you by the hand, he dragged you in the direction of the hospital cafeteria. He pulled the chair, sat you down and ferociously plopped oppositely.

“I have no answers”, he uttered, fingers tapping on the table surface.

“What-“

“No answers”. He repeated. “He’s been like that since the moment he woke up. Grumpy, angry. Made his mom cry. Little shit”, he mumbled.

“I don’t understand, he, uh…” You were staring at your hands, fingers fiddling the ring Chan once gave you. “He-“

“Yeah, I saw”. Minho leaned back on the chair. “He didn’t wake up when I texted you. It happened two hours earlier”.

You raised your eyes, gazing at him. What the fuck?

“One of the things he ‘ordered’ me to do was not to text you. Said he didn’t want to see you”.

“But… But he kissed me back”, you uttered.

“Look”, Lee Know grabbed your hands. “I don’t know what’s going on in his head, really. But I swear”, he squeezed your palms in his, “we’ll find out. He stresses me out too”.

“Did he say… Was he like that to you?”

“Oh yeah”, he huffed. “Said I was too annoying, ‘cause I asked if he was okay. Oh, and said that I worry too much”. Minho leaned back on his chair again. “Can’t believe this asshole”.

“What about his parents?”

“Even a better story here”. Minho turned his head to look out of the window. “Told they could go back to their trip, said he doesn’t need them here”.

“Is he?..”

“What? Got his brain damaged too much? I have no fucking clue”, an exhausted sigh left his mouth. “Shit, sorry, I know I’m not supposed to talk like that, but.. I don’t know. It’s not him”.

You just sat there, gaze focused on the trees outside the building. The wind was blowing through the leaves, the sky had become grey, foretelling the rain in the next few moments.

You did take the leap to jump off the cliff’s edge, however, you didn’t get into the warm water with the opal sky above it; it was a mirage, something you wished to see. In reality, the jump turned into a falling, and your desperate attempts to grab at something didn’t prevent the fatality that expected you. You were falling into the abyss, again. This time, though, you felt like you wouldn’t come back.

“He said something..”, Minho mumbled. “I didn’t pay attention to it at first, but now..”

Your response was to keep looking out of the window.

“He said he was tired of everything. Like it was too much.”

“Are you making this up now just to make me feel better?”

Lee Know huffed, but didn’t answer. You, on the other hand, had no fucking idea what was going on.

“I gotta go”, you stood up, taking the bag in your hands. “I’ll be late to work”.

As you turned around and started walking away, Minho suddenly grabbed you by the hand, forcing you to stop.

“Come at visiting hours later”, he said quietly. “I’ll try to talk to him”. You nodded and left.

Walking out of the hospital, cold raindrops touched your hair. It was supposed to be summer rain, you thought. Now it was cold, sunless and absolutely stupid. Stupid ‘cause you didn’t take an umbrella.

Everything was a blur: your subway ride, a walk to the office, pointy-looking colleagues. The only things echoing in your ears were the stomps you made. As you sat down in front of the computer, all of the sounds disappeared. It was just that annoying shit he said in your head now.

“Don’t ever do that again”.

The fuck, Chan? What the actual fuck?

“Hey”, a cooing voice from outside your head asked. “Are you alright?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you clicked on the file you’d gotten earlier. Just do your job, you can do it automatically. You don’t need to think.

But you were still falling. Falling into the pit, into the abyss; and you had no idea what was there, except for the black, viscous quagmire. A long way down, indeed, as you had still not fallen. You wished you had, though — it would’ve been easier to… To what, actually? What? You were absolutely oblivious to what had happened. What had possessed Chan’s head so that he would change his mind, doing a full 180?

“He’s in love with you”

“Don’t ever do that again”.

A bloody mess inside your head, the Guilt, who was following you around like a shadow, was losing her position, losing her face to… Nothing. There wasn’t anything, but the mixture of every other emotion you could have had. Pain, hurt, anger, confusion, love, pity — you name it.

“Are you okay?” A soft touch on your shoulder — Eunjoo and her questions again. “You have been sitting like that for the past five minutes”.

‘Like that’ was with your hands covering your face, water from the wet hair dripping on the desk.

“I need to use the bathroom”, the urge to run away was overwhelming — for some reason, you couldn’t bear the thought of Eunjoo (or anyone else, for god’s sake) comforting you. It just… Wasn’t you. You never cried or shared your intimate problems with Eunjoo, even though she was you best and only friend, besides Chan. And if the idea of sharing with him, who you’d known for years, was your personal hell — what to say about Eunjoo? It wasn’t like you didn’t trust her; you were just used to friends devaluing your feelings, so while making new ones, you tended to keep your mouth shut.

Who’s interested in my problems anyway? One step forward, two steps back, your therapist stated. You didn’t disagree.

You stood in front of the mirror, hands pressed into the marble surface of the sink; some of the girls, who worked in the building, were chatting in the background. Their high voices and melodic laughs reminded you of birds chirping, but that was another nonsense you used to distract yourself with. The way those girls laughed wasn’t and never would be your main concern. At least, it wasn’t one now.

But it weren’t you if you didn’t think about anything but the fucking elephant in the room.

“Hey”. Eunjoo was there, again: hands on you shoulders, and a concerned look in her eyes, which you could see through the reflection in the mirror. “What happened?”

You shook your head, looking at the sink again, trying to hold back tears. Shit, no matter how much therapy you’d got, showing your emotions to those who cared was still the hardest thing to do.

“Did something happen to Chan?”

Ah shit. Her saying his name broke you eventually. Looking at Eunjoo through the mirror, you shook your head again, tears falling down your face.

“Oh, honey”. She pulled you in, wrapping her hands around your shoulders. Her head on yours, and you collapsed in her arms, tears muffled by her shoulder. She was the first girl friend of yours that saw this side of you. Broken, tired, confused. Everything and all it once.

Your cries eventually fade away, leaving you resting your forehead on Eunjoo’s shoulder and arms wrapped around her waist. You could’ve stayed there until you calmed down, but the smell of her perfume was too suffocating for you to keep on inhaling.

“Oh, you shirt”, you said quietly. “I’m sorry”.

“Do not be”, Eunjoo smiled, hands rushing to cup your cheeks. “I will wear it proudly, because I found out something about my best friend today”.

“What’s that?”

Eunjoo pressed her forehead to yours. “She is not a robot. She is actually a human, who can cry”.

You huffed and smacked her shoulder, turning the water on to make your face look less red from crying. “You’re not funny, you know that?” You mumbled.

“I am very funny. Hilarious, some people say”. She held your hair in a ponytail so that it wouldn’t get wet; before Eunjoo you used to be that friend, who held the hair, made sure everyone got home safely and didn’t get into trouble. Eunjoo was the one to make sure you were okay, too. And in that exact moment, with the two of you standing in the office’s bathroom, Eunjoo giving you paper towels and still keeping her hand on your shoulder — in that moment you realized how much of a great friend she was. It almost made you cry again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You gave her a half-smile. “I’ll tell you at lunch break. Okay?”

After the break, Eunjoo’s gasps, swearings at Chan and advice you felt a bit better. Or worse. Shit, you had no clue what you felt.

“He’s still traumatized from the accident”. Eunjoo said. “Also, I’ve heard that people wha have been in coma have these… weird reactions to things. It is like they have been on the verge of life and death and woke up with different values”.

You kept on chewing on your carrot, nodding to Eunjoo’s words. You didn’t believe in supernatural, or people seeing god while being in coma — but was there another way to explain his behavior?

“Or maybe he is just confused”. She stated, sipping on her coffee. “Imagine you just woke up from an accident and someone is kissing you already”.

“It’s not like he didn’t kiss me back”, you uttered.

“Maybe it was a reflex?”

You let out an annoyed sigh, leaning back on the chair. “Do you have such a reflex, Eunjoo? Do you kiss people back when they kiss you?”

“I meant”, she continued quietly. “A reflex to you. To your actions”.

“Yeah, sure. I’d rather believe he’d met god and he told him to celibate to get into heaven, and that’s why he’s like that”.

Eunjoo sighed. “Has it occurred to you that maybe he really wants to put an end to it?”

You let out a nervous laughter in response to her words. The worst outcome that could be, to be honest. Yes, you were the one to text him, the one who wanted to stop seeing each other. But it wasn’t because you didn’t love him — it was because you loved him too much to take it anymore. And what Minho said…

Yeah, you agreed that Chan was confused. Because, for what other reason would he say such things to you? He had never, ever, been rude to you, and now what? He decided to become an asshole all of a sudden? Didn’t seem like him.

Sitting in front of your computer, you absentmindedly twisted the necklace in your fingers. Your brain was so tired of thinking about Chan that you started wondering how different things could be if you just accepted Yugyeom’s offer many years ago. If you had moved to New York to him, continued your writing career there, lived in a tiny shared apartment… If you had done that, who knows, maybe you’d be much happier now. There would be no Chan, no pain he caused you, and no harm done to him. Maybe the two of you wouldn’t even be friends. Maybe.

Your thoughts darted from the aching images of that unrealistic past you could’ve had with Yugyeom to the dark present you shared with Chan. What your future held was a secret, sealed so carefully you couldn’t even imagine where to start.

“Do you want me to come with you?”, Eunjoo asked while the two of you were walking to the subway.

“No. Minho would be there, so I’ll be okay”.

Lies. You wouldn’t be okay, there was no possible scenario in which you’d feel alright. Though, there was one with a happy ending, however, you didn’t seem to believe it would come true. Your gut was screaming again, completely confident it was yet another jump from the cliff’s edge. Only this time this whole mess should be resolved, so that you could finally end the falling into the abyss or be pulled back. No other options.

Every step from the subway station to the hospital seemed like your last one. What was in Chan’s mind? And, what’s more important, what the hell was going on in yours? Since the very morning you had been dissociating from everything but Chan. Although, you’d feel better dissociating from him too.

He’d made a mess out of you yet again. As if it hadn’t been enough to make you hooked on crumbs of affection he gave you, Chan got you completely fucked up when he rejected you. You tried to chalk that up to his condition, you did; but how bad his concussion had to be to make him behave like that?

Was it your guilt eating you up again?

Every thought in your head was multiplied by two the second you saw Minho sitting near Chan’s hospital room, eyes closed.

“Are you meditating?”

He opened his eyes to give you an exhausted look — the one that made any attempt to joke disappear. Dark circles under his eyes and a pale face, Jesus, when was the last time he got a good night’s sleep?

“I wish”, he replied quietly, rubbing his eyes. “I spent three hours talking to him. Never thought I had this much to say”. Minho chuckled.

“What did you say?”

“A lot”. He stood up to face you. “He’s not the talkative one today. But I think, I convinced him to speak to you too”.

Oh shit. The door handle was never as hot as it was at that moment.

Chan was sitting on the chair, looking at the view through the window. He seemed too bright in the white light of the hospital room, chest rising and falling with every breath he took. The cardigan you knitted a couple of years ago was on his shoulders, making you think that maybe he did still care; he was wearing your gift after all. You remembered how he put it on for the first time, saying it would be his favorite thing to wear. He didn’t wear it much, though. In your vivid imagination there were dreamy thoughts of him keeping it in his drawer, so that it wouldn’t get ripped accidentally — you projected yet another thing on Chan. That he, possibly, cared about you so much, he kept the cardigan you spent three months on far from dirt and dust. You probably were wrong.

“Hey”. You hesitated to move from the door further into the room, scared he’d reject you again.

Chan turned and looked at you; his piercing gaze was burning a hole in your head, and you wondered if you could make it out alive tonight. Physically — yes, but emotionally? Your gut was confident you’d be wrecked after this conversation. Or you were imagining a bad outcome yet again. Nothing had happened yet. Calm down.

“Minho’s lectured me already”.

A cold tone in his voice again. “I’m not here to lecture you. I just wanna talk”.

“Then talk”.

“Chan…” You sighed. “Just… Tell me what’s wrong. I just don’t unders-“

“You texted me, remember?” He slowly stood up. “You said you wanted to end it, remember?”

“Chan, I-“

“How was it that you put it?” He was standing there, just mere inches between you. But your back was glued to the door, and he didn’t move forward from his place near the bed. So close, yet so far. “Oh, right. Whenever you’re around, I just feel more alone”.

You gulped. Shit. “I didn’t mean it like that”.

“D’you think I’m an idiot? What else could you mean?”

“I, uh”, closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, “I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t be… Couldn’t love you anymore, knowing you didn’t… Didn’t feel the same”.

Wow. Actually saying that? Felt like a weight off your shoulders, a weight you’d been carrying for ages. Texting was one thing, but looking into his eyes and deliver the line was somehow phenomenal.

“Why are you here then? Get out if I’m such a horrible person”. A scathing tone of his voice covering up something else, something deeper inside. You couldn’t figure out what.

“Stop it”. You replied firmly. “Turn this bullshit off. Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like someone else”.

“Oh”, you followed every move he made, from narrowing his eyes at you to crackling his knuckles. “So I’m not that desirable when I’m not dancing to your tune?”

He let out a chuckle; you wanted to kill him instantly. Did he really need to be metaphoric to spit poison at you?

“When did you do that?” You didn’t expect the tone of your voice to be so demanding. “When did you dance to my tune, huh? Isn’t it the other way round?”

He sat down on the bed, hands covering his face. You had absolutely no idea of what was going on. Was it all in your head, a hallucination? This whole day, the way he spoke to you, the way he made you feel?

“You were right, we should end it”. He responded to the message you’d sent weeks ago, absolutely ignoring the words you were saying just now. “We won’t work it out”.

“Chan, please”, you didn’t even catch the moment when you got on your knees on the floor beside the bed, “talk to me. Why are you being like this?”

He watched the tears falling down your face and cupped your cheek, wiping them with his thumb. “Because we only hurt each other, tiger”.

“No. It’s not true”.

“It is”, he stammered. “I hurt you with… With all of this mess. I didn’t realize you were in love with me. And I didn’t realize I was in love with you too”.

He laughed nervously. “Minho has told you already, right?”. You nodded, eyes still focused on him. “Knew it”.

“Chan-“

“Let me finish, please”, he answered softly, “I want you to know”. He stopped, taking a deep breath and exhaling — every move still bringing him pain.

“I think, I, uh… I think, we just don’t work. Not like a couple. And we never worked out as friends either”. He drew a breath. “‘Cause I’ve been in love with you the moment we met, I think”.

What?

“It took me long enough to understand it. And when I realized you reciprocated, I, uh, I… I didn’t know what to do. ‘Cause the thrill, it kinda expired, y’know?”

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed again. “You know that… You know that I, uh… Shit, I’ve never said it out loud”, he let out a laugh, fidgeting in his seat. “I like the first steps, ‘getting the girl’ type of thing. And when I get her, it.. It gets boring”.

An arrow pierced through your chest, almost hitting the heart. A painful tingling, followed by a bloody spot appearing on your white shirt. He was merciless in his honesty, wasn’t he?

“When you said you had feelings for me, I wanted to, uh, I wanted to make sure it was true so that I knew what to do next”.

“Do you know now?”

He went silent for a moment. “Yes”. Your heart dropped to your stomach in a desperate attempt to avoid another arrow being shot in its direction. In those seconds of complete silence you prayed to every god to make it all a bad dream. It couldn’t be real. Not with Chan, no.

“And?”

“We need to break up. To stop it all”.

You took a deep breath before standing up to your feet. Looking at Chan, you didn’t notice a slight sign of tears or sorrow on his face — he just observed you, emptiness in his eyes. Every little thing you used to see, the gentleness, the love — it was all gone. Or maybe it was never there. Maybe, probably, you just wanted to see those feelings being there. Could it be possible that he really only wanted you when you didn’t love him? Was he that cruel, to leave you the second you reciprocated?

A tingling in your chest turned into a hole, left by dozens of arrows released into your heart. Every word he said turned into a weapon to kill you. And now inside your rib cage there was nothing but a bloodbath made from what used to be your heart just minutes ago. You could do nothing — even though you wished your tears ricocheted as daggers in response to his ruthlessness.

“You should’ve told me you were like this”. You went poker-faced (so you hoped) and Chan’s face darkened, as if he hadn’t just hurt you in the worst way possible.

“I’m sorry”.

“Sorry won’t fix anything”, was it you speaking? Seemed as if you heard that voice for the first time in your life. “You’re saying this bullshit, but for some reason you questioned, you wondered if your feelings for me were real. If they weren’t, would you run to see me?”

“It’s not the case-“

“Answer me”.

The orotund voice of yours, that neither you nor Chan had heard before, must have startled him, as he glanced at you in shock. Maybe that was the side of the real inner persona you were looking for — demanding, even when hurt. Although, the only thing you craved for was to collapse on the floor and beg him to love you back. Perhaps, if you hadn’t been that pathetic previously, Chan would reciprocate the feelings in the present.

“I already said why I did what I did. I wanted to make sure they were true so that I could end it. I wanted to figure out what I felt”.

“Did you ever stop to think about how I feel?”

A look in his eyes that you managed to catch in those mere seconds was unknown. It was a stranger watching you and shaking his head in response to your words. A man that was once on every mural in the temple of your heart became a stranger in a snap of the fingers.

“You could have just told me. Set a fucking boundary”. You clenched your fists as your voice grew louder. “You could, should have told me you were a heartless piece of shit”.

“You should have seen it coming”, he replied calmly. “You saw how each of my relationships ended”.

You nodded, gulping, forbidding yourself from being vulnerable in front of him ever again. “I was in love with you to foresee you’d treat me the same way. And you were my best friend, after all. I just wanted to be someone you could love”.

“To think”, you continued after picking your bag from the floor, “to think I’ve done so many things, changed so much to get you to love me, and you still… And you still never look my way”. You let out a breathy chuckle, almost losing your face. “Although you did, but only when I didn’t love you, right?”

He sighed. “Please, just… Don’t make a scene. I only told you that to get it off my chest”.

Cruel. Heartless. In your worst nightmares you couldn’t imagine him saying these things. But he did.

“I’m not making anything. I’m fact”, you turned to face the door, “I won’t bother you ever again. You can move onto the next girl to have unrequited feeling for”.

Slamming the door, you almost sprinted to the exit, to avoid talking to Minho, to escape this place you grew accustomed to. You only wanted to be alone.

How could a person change so drastically in mere minutes? Chan you had just talked to wasn’t the one who was as familiar as your own mind. In all those years you’d been friends he had never behaved this way.

“Not to you”, that inner voice of a conspiracy theorist rose from the ashes again. “Don’t forget what he told you about his break up once”.

“I just, uh.. I dunno. It’s like I lose interest whenever a girl falls for me for real”.

Every word now engraved in your mind, engraved there for eternity. The man in that hospital was still Chan, and you were still you too. But now your favourite “friends to lovers” trope turned into dust. In a split second you and him were strangers again, and there was no second chance for the two of you to meet in the writing club once again.

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