#sorry for getting to this late hun!
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yeetmania · 2 months ago
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⛄️ owl-themed things are so fun! my mom used to buy me owl everything when i was little, because i was convinced it meant i was smart if i owned owl things.
i’m a long fic reader all the way, i usually filter ao3 so that it doesn’t show me anything under 50k words. i only really read oneshots if someone i know wrote one or one came up on my tumblr dash. and yes, i am a larrie, so i completely understand what you mean about tired tired sea! my heart actually aches every time “darling dearest, i’m fighting for your kind of quiet” pops into my head 🥺
i actually have a collection that i keep with bookmarks of fics that i think changed me in some tangible way. there’s currently seven fics in there: three larry fics, two phantom of the opera fics, one labyrinth fic, and one gilmore girls fic. the most recent one is everything of mine is yours by blueskiesrry, and holy shit, that fic actually completely rewired my brain i think. i had to read it in one sitting because i just couldn’t put it down and then i sent it to my non-larrie friends practically begging them to read it too because it’s just SO perfect! it’s just so heartbreaking in such a mundane way and i started sobbing even harder than i already was when i realized it was going to have a happy ending… a good unrealistic or fantasy setup can be wonderful, don’t get me wrong (i really love collision for one, and soulmate aus and omegaverse are both really fun for me), but when something is written to be so commonplace and still manages to capture actual lightning in the emotion behind it, it’s just on a whole other level. it’s one of my inspirations honestly, i hope i can write something so good someday!
i’ve noticed you rbing fall out boy stuff! i used to love them in middle school (and i definitely still pull them up from time to time even though i’ve mostly fallen off in listening), what’s your favorite song and album of theirs? i really loved save rock and roll, and i feel like it isn’t the most impressive pick for favorite song, but i would listen to uma thurman on loop all the time 😅 i used to watch the munsters when i was younger, so them sampling the theme song was a little addictive to me!
this joke does admittedly have my head in my hands: why did the grinch rob the liquor store? he needed some holiday spirits 🎄🥃
Hii, love!! ✨
See, I’m just a little odd in the sense that I like owls cause I think they’re cute while some might not like them because they think their eyes are creepy (aka my college friends lol).
Not the quote!! 😭 I didn’t know that quote came initially from tts, so imagine my surprise when it came to that part in my reading! Crying immediately 😭. But no, I completely understand what you mean about fics truly rewiring your brain chemistry in such a way, it inspires you down to your bones!! Everything of mine is yours; I might have to check it out!
On the occasion, fall out bay makes its way onto my page 😁. I got into my “emo”/alternative phase late in my adolescence. They were that group that I’ve been drawn to since listening to American Beauty/American Psycho (album) when it came out and have a really special place in my heart 🥹. It’s hard to pick a favorite album frankly cause it truly does change and is very dependent on my mood! I’m gonna say it’s a tie between save rock and roll and mania because they’re the albums I play unconsciously then I’m in the mood to listen to them. Fav. song is even harder! I’ll just list off some that I can have on repeat for hours and never get tired of them: bishop knife trick, where did the party go, save rock and roll, favorite record, jet pack blues, fake out, so much for stardust, she’s my winona, west coast smoker, the (after) life of the party, the carpal tunnel of love, 7 minutes in heaven, little less sixteen candles, get busy living- the list goes on! 😅 uma thurman is a good one; it’s just one of those songs you blast in your car during a hot summer afternoon driving down the highway with your windows down! Banger!!
Question for you! What kinda music do you listen to and do you have any recommendations? ✨
No, that’s a good one lol. Trade you your joke for mine: What did Santa say when he stepped into a big puddle? It must have reindeer.
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CMERE. RN
TELEPORTATION :(
:(
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hollywoodx4 · 2 years ago
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Weeping sobbing laying on the ground in the dark because I miss this era so much.
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catchastarorten · 17 days ago
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—Pause the game.
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Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x wife!fem!reader
Summary: your husband had some ‘work’ to take care of with the two people that had been trailing after him all day, but when your call came in, and when he found out that you felt sick, you became much more important than whatever he had going on.
Warnings: mainly fluff, mentions of Woo-seok and Jeong-rae following snd spying on him, some parts of the Russian roulette game, he’s soft for you, he misses you, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!
Word count: ~ 1.4k
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The day had been long, even by his standards. A hundred lottery scratchers, a hundred loaves of bread, the park, the homeless. He had been up to a little ‘social experiment’. Even then, he caught onto the two men who had been trailing behind him since the subway station.
He wasn’t stupid. Someone was after him, and these two lackeys were clearly here to track him down. His best guess? Seong Gi-hun.
Woo-seok and Jeong-rae had been following him like shadows—clumsy ones, attempting to blend in with the surroundings every time he stopped, as if they expected him to turn around and strike at any moment. And eventually, he did.
He had let them tail him, then to his surprise, they made the first move down an alleyway to avoid losing him. By the time they realized they had made a mistake, it was too late. He had taken them down quickly, efficiently, the way he always handled these things. No emotions, no hesitation.
Jeong-rae had gone down first, crumpled to the ground. Woo-seok tried to fight back with the poor attempt of using a small knife, but a sharp blow of the suitcase to his head had knocked him out.
Now, they were sitting across from each other, bound to chairs, tied up with ropes, their mouths gagged, their muffled groans filling the dimly lit room. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg—just incoherent muffled noises as they squirmed like trapped animals.
He slowly circled the two men, then stopped to place a hand on each of their shoulders, eyes filled with amusement at their looks of terror.
“We're going to play a game now... Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. I trust you know the rules.” his gaze flickered from Jeong-rae to Woo-seok, a smile forming on his lips.
“You form a shape with each hand, then take one away. The game is decided by the remaining hands. Of course, there’s a penalty for the loser.” he picked up the nearby revolver and inspected it, then pressed the barrel to his temple. “Russian Roulette.”
Their muffled protests grew louder, their bodies twisting against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape. The two men were shaking, their breaths heavy as he leaned closer, his finger on the trigger.
Click.
Empty.
His smirk widened as he backed away slowly.
“Alright. Now, let’s play. On my count.”
But then, as he was getting ready to spin the cylinder of the revolver, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
His brows furrowed, the interruption pulling him out of the carefully constructed moment. He pulled the phone out, and the sight of your name on the screen made him pause.
He froze for a moment, staring at the screen as his heart softened. It wasn’t like you to call him in the middle of the day. You knew he was busy—always busy. The ‘work’ he pretended to do required him to keep odd hours, to vanish without explanation, and you never questioned it. You trusted him. And he loved you for that trust, even if he didn’t deserve it.
His thumb hovering over the answer button before taking a deep breath and sliding his mask of indifference back into place. But when he answered, his voice betrayed him. It was warm, gentle—a tone he reserved only for you.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, the edge it had carried a moment ago completely gone. He shot the two men a warning look, his eyes narrowing as if daring them to make a sound.
Turning away from them, his tone dropped into something almost tender. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Your voice came through the line, quiet and tinged with vulnerability. “I… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I’m not feeling well.”
He could hear the catch in your throat, the faint rasp. “Are you sick?” he asked, straightening.
There was a pause on your end, then a soft sniffle that nearly broke his heart. “Yeah. Just a cold, I think. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.”
He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, steadying breath as guilt twisted in his chest. You sounded miserable, and he hated that he wasn’t there to take care of you. Hated that he was here, in this cold room, when he should’ve been home with you.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I know you’re busy. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You can call me anytime, okay? I mean it. Anytime.”
There was a pause, and then he heard another sniffle on the other end. It made his chest clench. “Where are you?” you asked. “Are you coming home soon?”
He glanced down at Woo-seok and Jeong-rae, their wide, panicked eyes watching him like trapped prey. The revolver gleamed on the table beside him, a stark reminder of the life he led when he wasn’t with you.
For the first time all day, he felt a pang of guilt—not for them, but for you. For the life he kept hidden from you. You had no idea what he did, the darkness he waded through every day. And he wanted to keep it that way. You were his light, his one connection to something pure and good in a world full of shadows.
“Soon,” he promised, his voice softening even further. “I’ll be home soon."
You didn’t reply right away, but he could picture you nodding, your lips pressed into that small, tired smile you always gave him when you were sick. He could see you in his mind—wrapped in a blanket, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed from the fever.
“There’s soup in the fridge,” he added gently. “I made it this morning. Heat some up, okay? And the heating pad’s in the bottom drawer. You’ll feel better if you use it.”
“Okay,” you murmured, your voice tired.
“I love you,” he said, the word coming out more vulnerable than he intended.
“I love you too,” you replied, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice despite the cold.
His chest tightened at the sound of those words. He glanced away from the two men on the floor, his jaw clenching as he fought the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to rise. “Now go rest, my love. I’ll be home soon.” his voice was thick with sincerity.
When the call ended, the room was silent. He stared down at the phone in his hand, his mind still on you.
For a moment, he let himself imagine walking through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and finding you curled up on the couch. He’d press a kiss to your forehead, make sure you were warm, and hold you until you fell asleep. That was all he wanted.
But instead, he was stuck here.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Woo-seok and Jeong-rae. His expression hardened once more. “Well,” he said. “Where were we?”
He reached for the revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick of his wrist. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final.
“Rock, paper, scissors,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Loser gets to test their luck with this. Simple, right?”
He crouched down in front of them, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring their terror.
They shook their heads frantically, their breathing heavy, protests muffled by the gag. He sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “You know,” he said, his voice almost casual. “I’d love to stay and play, but I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. So let’s not drag this out.”
Their muffled protests grew louder, but he didn’t care. This was his world. His game.
And when it was over, he’d go home to you. To the warmth of your love, the softness of your touch.
You didn’t know what he was. What he did. And he intended to keep it that way.
Because as long as you were safe, as long as you loved him, he could pretend—for just a little while—that he was someone worth loving.
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carnalcrows · 28 days ago
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HOW TO STEAL A MAN (AND HIS GROCERY LIST)
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pairing: gi-hun x top male reader
synopsis: When Gi-hun’s late-night cat-feeding routine attracts a stalker with a cart full of cat food and questionable social skills, chaos—and maybe romance—ensues.
content warnings: 18+, top male reader, stalking, blowjobs (reader receiving), missionary, unprotected sex, breeding, creampie, reader wants to get gi-hun pregnant asap, age gap (reader is in his 20s and gi-hun is in his 40s).
word count: 2.2k
A/N: ty anon for the request!! i had fun writing this one
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Seong Gi-hun’s life wasn’t glamorous. Every evening, after whatever sorry excuse for a day he’d had, he stopped at the corner store, bought a packet of cheap cat food, and made his way to a run-down alley to feed a scruffy stray. It was the one bright spot in his life, and he looked forward to it more than he cared to admit.
What he didn’t know was that someone else looked forward to it too.
That someone was you.
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You first noticed Gi-hun a few weeks ago while wandering through the neighborhood. At first, you thought he was just some random guy lingering in the alley, but then you saw him crouch down and pour food into a chipped saucer. His voice was soft as he spoke to the stray cat, coaxing it to eat.
It was... oddly endearing.
From then on, you couldn’t help yourself. You started following him—not in a creepy way (okay, maybe a little creepy)—but you were curious. Who was this man? Why did he care so much about a stray cat?
Your fascination grew, and soon, watching him feed the cat became part of your routine. But you wanted more than to just watch. You wanted to talk to him. To know him.
One evening, as you watched Gi-hun walk into the corner store, you got an idea. A foolproof, albeit slightly unhinged, plan. You hurried inside ahead of him, grabbed every single packet of cat food off the shelf, and went to pay, ignoring the cashier’s confused look.
When Gi-hun arrived at the pet aisle, you lingered near the exit, pretending to browse.
“What the…?” Gi-hun muttered, staring at the empty shelf. He rubbed the back of his neck, sighed, and turned to leave, only to almost bump into you.
You were standing there with a massive bag filled with cat food packets.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” you said, pretending to be startled.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re the reason the shelf is empty?”
“I feed a lot of strays,” you said innocently, though the amusement in your voice probably gave you away.
Gi-hun raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You think I could buy one of those off you? There’s a stray I feed every night, and now I’m empty-handed.”
You pretended to think about it, then smiled. “I’ll give you one… if you let me come with you. I’d like to meet the cat.”
He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered your request. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. But don’t scare it off, okay?”
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That’s how it all started.
What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into a routine. Every evening, you’d meet Gi-hun at the corner store, walk with him to the alley, and sit on the curb while the stray cat ate. Over time, you learned bits and pieces about him: his failed marriage, his gambling problems, and most importantly, his love for his daughter, Ga-yeong.
“She’s all I have left,” he admitted one night, his voice soft.
You nodded, unsure what to say. It was clear how much he cared for her, even if he didn’t always show it in the best ways.
As weeks passed, you also got to know Ga-yeong, who was surprisingly cool for a kid. She started teasing her dad about how much time he spent with you.
“Are you two dating yet?” she asked one evening, smirking as she watched you and Gi-hun prepare dinner.
Gi-hun spluttered. “W-what? No! We’re just friends.”
“Sure, Dad,” she said, winking at you.
You laughed, enjoying how flustered he got.
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One rainy evening, you were at Gi-hun’s apartment again, helping him cook dinner. The kitchen was small and cramped, but it felt cozy with the two of you working side by side.
As you chopped vegetables, you glanced at him. “You know, you’re not half bad at this.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m just saying,” you teased. “You’re full of surprises.”
Gi-hun smiled, but when he noticed you staring, his brow furrowed. “What? Do I have sauce on my face or something?”
“Nothing,” you said, setting the knife down. “I just… I’ve been wanting to do something for a while now.”
Before he could ask what, you stepped closer, your heart racing. Gi-hun froze like a deer in headlights, his hand awkwardly holding a ladle full of stew.
“What are you—”
You cupped his face with both hands and kissed him.
At first, he didn’t move, his eyes wide with surprise. But as you pressed into him, his shoulders relaxed, and the ladle clattered to the counter. Slowly, tentatively, he kissed you back, his lips warm and soft against yours.
It started gentle, careful, like he was afraid to mess it up. But as the seconds ticked by, something shifted. He leaned into you, his hands nervously gripping your waist, pulling you closer. You smiled against his lips, enjoying how hesitant he was, even as his breathing grew heavier.
“Relax,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his. “You’re doing fine.”
“I—I don’t—” he stammered, but you cut him off with another kiss, this one deeper, more insistent.
Gi-hun let out a muffled sound of surprise, his hands fumbling as they slid up your back. His inexperience was endearing, and it only made you want to kiss him harder.
Somehow, the two of you ended up pressed against the counter, the dinner long forgotten. Gi-hun’s hair was an absolute mess from your hands running through it, and his cheeks were flushed a deep red.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.
“Good,” you said with a grin, leaning in to steal another kiss.
The smell of burning stew eventually snapped the two of you out of it, but not before you got one last, lingering kiss. As Gi-hun scrambled to salvage dinner, muttering curses under his breath, you leaned against the counter, watching him with a satisfied smirk.
“I like you,” you said casually, making him freeze mid-stir.
He turned to look at you, his expression somewhere between flustered and incredulous. “You think?”
“I know,” you corrected. “And I think you like me too.”
Gi-hun sighed, his lips quirking into a small, shy smile. “Yeah... maybe I do.”
You laughed, reaching out to tug him back toward you. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Your mouth found his once more, and you slowly lifted the man onto the countertop. He yelped in surprise, and you used the opportunity to slide your tongue, relishing in how he tasted.
His hands gripped onto your shoulders, while you held his waist, steadying him. You slowly trailed butterfly kisses from his jow to his neck, stopping at his Adam’s apple before lightly nipping on his ear lobe.
Gi-hun was still quite unsure of what he was supposed to be doing, not having engaged in such…activities for far too long.
“You do want to do this right? We can stop the moment you tell me to,” you said to him, your tone soft. After a second of pondering, he gripped your shoulders with determination, and latched his mouth right onto yours.
You took it as a sign to continue, and slowly broke away the kiss to close the stew before continuing to have your way with him.
You slowly picked him up from the countertop and carried him to the couch, revelling in how surprised you were. Carrying those giant bags of cat food was worth it.
You laid him on the couch gently, its base creaking with the sudden weight. Gi-hun hastily pushed your pants down, tugging at the strap for a few seconds before it made way. Your cock sprang out, hard and leaking.
His eyes widened, and he looked up at you. Your eyes were soft, letting him know that this didn’t have to continue if he didn’t want it to.
Before you could say anything, he licks a stripe across your length, savouring the musk emitting from the base. You let out a groan, gripping onto his hair–but not too tight; not yet.
You let him experiment with your dick, leaving small kisses along the underside, while his hand moves up to clutch your balls, heavy with your seed. He wonders to himself on how your cum would feel inside him, and the thought makes his ears burn a bright red.
“Don’t take this long darlin’, wanna please you too,” you mumble, wanting him to speed up just a little bit.
He slowly wraps his pretty lips around the tip of your cock, making you let out a garbled moan. His mouth was just so, so warm.
“Breathe through your nose baby, that’s it,”you cooed, watching him struggle to take your length all the way.
He slowly bobbed his head up and down, savouring the precum hitting the back of his throat. Your moans were getting louder and louder, to the point where you had to muffle the noises with the back of your hand. The walls of his house were quite thin.
Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he struggled to swallow you whole. Your grip on his hair had gotten significantly tighter, as you push his head to take you all the way. His garbled mumbles did nothing but send vibrations straight up your dick, turning you on even more.
“So good f’me baby, I’m almost done,”you groan before releasing your grip on his hair and pulling out of his warm throat, before ejaculating all over his face. 
He looked up at you in shock, his face a mixture of tears, sweat and semen. It truly was a sight to see. Your dick stood right back up.
His eyes widened, but before he could say anything, you quickly turned him around on the couch, his ass up towards you.
You pulled his pants down, along with his boxers, to reveal his tight hole, clenching around the cold air. He hissed when he suddenly felt a finger at his hole, slick with lube (where did that come from).
“This might hurt a lil’ bit,” you said before slowly pressing your finger into his hole. His back arched with the intrusion, the pain mixed with the pleasure going straight to his cock, the tip red and weeping.
You slowly added another finger, watching as his ass practically swallowed them whole as you pumped them in and out.
After adding a third finger, you deemed that he was prepped enough to be fucked. He already looked out of it, that was a different thing altogether. His shoulders were slumped and his elbows were the only thing keeping him upright.
You positioned you cock at his entrance, and slowly slid in, groaning at how tight and inviting his hole was, as if it was made just for your dick.
Gi-hun let out a loud moan, it was almost pornographic. He had never felt this full in his life– your cock was almost ripping him in half!
You bottomed out all the way to the hilt, and you slowly started to move, whispering dirty nothings in the older man’s ear.
“How does it feel, getting fucked by a man half your age, hm?” Gi-hun could only blabber at this, his brain could no longer form coherent words as his mind was so focused on how your cock was hitting the right spot with every. single. thrust.
You felt his hole mould into the shape of your cock, and every time you hit his prostate, his moans got more high pitched. One of your hands caressed his stomach, and you were surprised to find his belly bulging with every thrust. He squealed when he felt it, his brain was feeling so empty. 
“Y’know Gi-hun, your daughter must be quite lonely, considering that she is an only child. Wanna give Ga-yeong a sibling?” you teased, to which he could only moan, his head filled with the thought of you making him pregnant with your seed. The thought didn’t seem too bad.
To this, you lifted him up and sat on the couch with him on your lap, his back to your chest. You lifted his legs up in such a way that every single time you lifted him up and dropped him back on your lap, your dick would hit places he didn’t even know existed.
He threw his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his head with the vigour of your thrusts, fucking into him like you were an animal in heat. At this point, it really felt like you were trying to get him pregnant. A man couldn’t biologically get pregnant, but all rational thought had flown out the window, and who said you couldn’t try?
As your thrusts started to stutter, you knew you were at a climax, so when Gi-hun came with a cry, painting his abdomen white, you pushed into him all the way to his imaginary womb before coming undone with a loud groan, painting his gummy walls a pearly white.
You kept your cock in him for a while, letting him relax. His hole clenched and unclenched around your dick, while only spurred you on even more.
Gi-hun turned around to face you lazily, but with surprise, as he felt your cock harden in him once again.
“We can’t stop yet love, I need to give you a baby after all,” you smirked before pushing Gi-hun back down onto the couch.
He was fucked.
And somewhere out there, a stray cat was probably wondering why its dinner was late.
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© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.
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rissouu · 4 months ago
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ghosting but posting a guy/girl on ur story !
pairings: sukuna, gojo, yuta, toji, megumi, geto, ino, yuji, choso & shoko!
warnings: a littleee toxic, cursing, crack, mentions of killing, and etc.
authors note: originated from this request, sorry it’s so late hun i had to get my motivation up! but im back lol and i missed doing these smau’s for my babiesss, psa i love you all and i wanna eat your butts! xoxo :)
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©rissouu 2024 (ermmm first time doing shoko, i think i did an okay job??? i hope)..
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dearsnow · 7 months ago
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12:29 AM
- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert “bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)
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word count: 1,502
a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.
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It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.
Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”
“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”
Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.
Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”
You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.
Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”
With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.
He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.
“Wife.”
You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”
“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.
You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”
His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.
“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.
“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.
“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”
He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”
A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”
His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”
“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”
“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.
You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.
You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.
He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”
You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.
“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.
“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.
“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.
When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.” He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.
“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.
He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.
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Taglist: @seitmai
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bluem1lls · 20 days ago
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Hey I was wondering if you could do a se-mi fic where the reader is really sweet/kind and is apart of Gi-hun's group in the games. So when se-mi starts flirting with her the boys go all big brother/dad mode and start getting protective. I just think it would be funny to see Dae-ho and Jung-bae doing their goofy marines bit, while se-mi is absolutely unimpressed and sassy and the reader is just watching from afar happy that they're all 'getting along'. Thank you and I love your writing <3
✧₊⁺ i'd do it all again
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✦ synopsis: she's very willing to flirt with you, even if there's two are always there to try to stop her from doing it!
tw: pure fluff!
authors note: hiiii, its short but its a week update and im DEAD so dhhdhdfh i hope u like it!!! tysm for the request💓💓
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-> "fuck" my head hurts from the impact as i open my eyes to see a girl.. on top of me. her eyes widen as she tries to stay still. her arms keep my body trapped underneath her.
"shit- i'm so sorry" she whispers slowly, trying to not get caught by the doll from the game.
as i can hear it say 'green light' once again. she stands up quickly, lending me her hand as we start running. i can see my brother's eyes moving across the entire room trying to find me because he lost me out of his sight. when he does, he lets out a big sigh as he runs to my side, staying still as we hear the 'red light'.
-> once we're get to the finish line, i lay on the floor, exhausted. my eyes try to find the short haired girl. i stare as i see her bent over, trying to catch her breath.
"you're not allowed to leave my side, ever" dae-ho, my brother, grabs my shoulders as i rolled my eyes. "i'm serious."
"i know, i'm sorry. a girl tripped over me."
as we turned around to head to the main room, i see the girl's eyes follow me until we arrive.
-> as we're done voting, my brother, being the social butterfly he is, already got us a group.
i sit besides gi-hun as i stare the surroundings. i can feel my brother's arms around me as i groan. the girl who fell on top of me stares, quickly removing her eyes of me as i find her sight.
-> and i try multiple times to talk with her, but everytime i seem to get somewhat close, she's moving around as i frown. maybe she's awkward after the way we met but, i'm still curious.
-> as the second game begins, we get together until they announce 'group of 5'. their eyes widen as in-ho tries to move aside, i grab him as i shook my head no. i turn to leave as dae-ho grabs my arm, serious.
"there's no way-"
"listen, i'll be fine. i have an idea. i promise i'll be fine."
"no you liste-"
it's too late, because i'm already running to the pierced girl as she stares up and down at me with a smirk. great, finally an excuse to talk to her and i know she can't run away this time.
"you owe me. and i need a group" i said to her as she scoffed in amusement.
"oh? i owe you?"
"you fell on top of me!" i reply as she hums, playing with her lip piercing.
"what's wrong with your boyfriend's team?" she lifts an eyebrow as i stare wide eye. boyfriend???
"that dumbass?!" i point at dae-ho."he's my brother, ew."
her expression turns into a surprised one, quickly returning to her normal one. was that why she was avoiding me this whole time? i chuckled softly as she did too.
"oh- right. sorry. so um, let's go get three more people" she says, turning around as we see the purple hair guy coming in our direction. we both stare at eachother at the same time, smiling.
great.
-> as we pass the second same, i sit with them, waiting nervously for my brother and the group's return. i see them arrive with a smile as i get up to throw myself into his arms as he hugs me tight. i hug every one of them, happy to see them again.
-> as the night comes, i eat my food while chatting with the group until i see a someone in front of me. i lift my gaze to meet her brown eyes.
i lift my eyebrow as i slowly smile. "hi"
"hey.. thought you could use the company" she said with amusement, sitting next to me. "and, you never told me your name.."
as i tell her, she replies with hers. se-mi.
"pretty name for a pretty girl" i chuckle at her poor attempt to flirt as she laughs with me.
i feel arms wrap around me as i turn my head. of course. i roll my eyes as i sigh.
"hello ladies. i'm dae-ho" he says (to se-mi, mostly) with a serious expression as she stares unfazed and gives him a head nod. "her brother, but you probably guessed since we have the same 'pretty face', like you said." he tells her, trying to put his most 'older brother' face as i elbow him on the ribs.
"get out, oh my god you're so annoying" i said removing myself from his grip as he stares, offended.
"i'm trying to look after my little sister! you can't date someone from this game"
"we're not dating! leave!" i whisper/shout at him as he stares like a puppy while i push him out.
"i was in the marine, by the way!" he tells to her, turning around one last time as she smirks.
i sit again besides her as i huffed. she smiles, amused.
"so that was.. interesting" she plays with her lip piercing, the smirk never leaving her lips. i nod as i stare away, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. "does that mean every time i'll try to talk to you, you'll have a bodyguard?" she chuckles as i nod, embarrassed.
"i mean.. probably"
she hums as her gaze meets my eyes.
"i can do that."
and she means it.
-> and as the days go by, we become closer and closer. hugging eachother everytime we see the other one survived the game, teaming together and staying all night talking.
and she's so pretty, that it doesn't feel surprising when she's making me blush from staring too much, or when i get butterflies everytime she whispers sweet things to me because she knows i love it.
-> and after one specific hard game, i realize i wanna spend every little minute with her. too scared to loose her, i'm asking her to bring her mattress besides mine. as i'm helping her to move it, i can see two people standing in front of us, staring to see what we're doing.
"are you two sleeping together? i don't think thats a good idea." jung-bae says as my eyes widen. "you look like a good young girl, but we can't trust too much" he says to se-mi as this one stares and gives him a soft chuckle.
"that's true. sleeping together is a step too far. are you two dating?" my brother nods at jung-bae's words as i cover my face in embarrassment.
"not yet" she smirks at my brother as his eyes widen.
"can you two just... shush away?" i murmur to them, staring at both.
they look at each other as i move them softly aside.
"i can't believe the disrespect we face. from two young girls" jung-bae says as dae-ho nods.
-> and as the night comes, we lay side to side while talking.
"i really like this.. spending time with you" she says, making me smile. i feel her cold hands with the rings cup my face as i stare at her. "do you think your brother's awake?"
my expression turns into confusion. "um.. no? i don't think so?"
"good" she mumbles against my lips as she kisses me. i let out a soft moan in surprise as i melt into the kiss.
"i knew you weren't a good girl!" my brother jumps from the bed, his finger pointing to se-mi, making us break from the kiss to stare him.
"oh my god where you spying this whole time? you're a fucking-"
"hey careful!" he says, his finger now pointing at me. "now. if you want my sister, i will make your life a living hell" he warns se-mi as she lifts her arms, smiling.
"she's worth it" she says as we both stare at her.
-> and he means it. because even when we leave the game after voting 'x', she warns me many times i'm not allowed to disappear now that she's attached. not like i was going to. but wherever i go, he's also always there too.
and all the guys are also there. even gi-hun, jung-bae and in-ho, warning her every step of the way, as me and jun-hee chuckle. and se-mi starts loving them too, because she's sure she won't be able to get rid of them (she tried!)
with our poor relationship with our father, jung-bae ends up turning into more of a father figure to us, being the one supporting my brother through everything, but also being there for me everyday.
and with time (a lot of family dinners we have together) they start to soften up for her.
-> so it's not a surprise when a few years later, at our wedding, she takes a video of how our life together has been and a video of my brother and jung-bae shows up.
"are you- are you asking us for our blessing?" dae-ho sobs as jung-bae seems to be suppressing his tears. i can hear her laugh, although i can't see her because she was the one recording the video.
"i don't think i would be able to go through it if i didn't" she says, softly.
they're both crying now as they hug her.
"i knew you were the one!" jung-bae says, sobbing like a baby while she laughs.
"we knew it! that's why we went easy on you!" dae-ho says, wiping away his tears.
"yeah, i figured" se-mi says, her tone dripping in sarcasm.
i turn to the side to hug her while i kiss her, laughing as dae-ho and jung-bae stare at the video, blushing red.
"we agreed that was a secret!" jung-bae says, embarrassed as gi-hun hugs him with a chuckle.
"that's-that an edition. se-mi! you said you wouldn't play that" dae-ho says to her as she shrugs.
i cup her face on my hands as she laughs. her gaze meets mine. "i love you so much." my stare filled with love like the first day i met her.
"mh, i love you so much too. happy family, happy wife and happy life right?"
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xetlynn · 2 months ago
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Could you write Viktor (arcane) with reader who is clingy and loves to skinship please.
arcane imagines- viktor
Christmas party
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[arcane] [main page] prompt: viktor takes you to his work party in which to show you off. His coworkers were shocked at how much pda he shared with you. Not seeming like the type to do so. (i think i made him a little ooc...)
Footsteps creep close to you as you're hunched over your desk, typing away on your laptop. “Love? That you?” You don’t even glance behind you, finishing the sentence but still leaning your head toward the sound as if you were going to give the person your attention.
“If it was someone else that would mean someone broke in, hun.” The most familiar accent whispers into your ear, kissing your temple. “I’d better become more aware of my surroundings then.” You finally place your hands in your lap, turning the chair to face your boyfriend. Grabbing at his tie to keep him down so you can kiss his lips. “Missed you~” You coo. 
“I missed you too.” He mutters against your lips as you force yourself to stand up, deepening your already locked lips. 
You were obsessed with your boyfriend, almost unhealthily as you felt the urge to always, always touch him in some sort of aspect. He pulls away, placing a finger on your lips before you could bombard his lips once again. “I have a work party.” He spits out with half-lidded eyes, craving another kiss from you. 
You scrunch your nose. “Alright, when is it?” You press your lips to his finger playfully. “I’ll miss you while you’re gone.” You tell him. 
He snickers, “I want you to come with me, dear.” His hand held onto your waist, and your eyes gleamed. “Really? Are you sure?” You question, only making sure because Viktor is extremely private with his life. Taking things slow was in his blood, you didn’t mind it though. You loved this man. And as you respect him, he respects you.
Your love language is physical touch and as his normally isn’t he still let you touch him whenever you pleased. Now he expects it, now he actually loves it. He yearns for it For you. 
“Of course, we haven’t had a party since the first week of us dating, same time last year.” He begins, “it’s been a year and I want to show off the love of my life.” He pecks your cheek and you bite your lip, holding yourself back from pouncing on this man. 
“It’s this Friday, I’m sorry for the late notice.” He juts out his bottom lip. “You knew I’d be free though, don’t lie.”  You boop his nose, your hand was trailing up and down his arm,
“I’ll get our outfits together. I’m extremely excited now.” You let him go, grabbing your phone. He leans against his cane, watching you fervently scroll on the device. “How would you feel about the color red? Since it’s a Christmas party I’m guessing?” You ask, sneaking a few peaks up at your boyfriend who’s trying to hide his smile. 
“I say, choose whatever you like, dear.” He walks over to your closet to grab pajamas he left from the many nights of sleeping over here at your apartment. 
“You spoil me.” You giggle, shutting your laptop and going to your bed to flop down on your stomach. “Always,” he mumbles as he changes out of his work clothes. Unbuttoning his white shirt. You break away from your screen just to take in the view before you. You let out a small whistle and he rolls his eyes, throwing the clothing at your head and you let out a laugh. “You're such a pretty boy.” You hum, hugging the shirt to your chest as you bounce up to your knees. 
“[Name].” He warns and you giggle. “Sorry, sorry. I know I’m just too seductive.” You wink, crawling to the edge of the mattress, motioning for him to come close. He got his plaid soft pants on before walking over, holding a sweater he was about to throw on. “Yes, dear?” He looks down at you. 
“I love you.” Your hands go to his sides, pursing out your lips to which he smooches. “I love you too.” He gets his sweater on and you pout, keeping your hands on his skin. Not allowing the cloth to go all the way down. “Wanna watch a movie?” He asks with a lopsided smile. 
“Mm, movie?” Your eyebrows are knitted together, Gaping up at him as your mitts wander all over his skin. “Dear,” he grins, snatching at your wrists to pull them away. “Let’s watch a movie.” He climbs into his designated assigned side of the bed. “Oh okay, so you hate me.” You dramatically sigh, snuggling into his side immediately along with handing him the remote. Viktor snorts, turning on the tv. 
•••
“Dear, what is taking so long?!” Viktor shouts from outside your bathroom, fixing his red holiday tie. “One moment, I’m almost ready, I swear!” You yell back, checking yourself out in the large mirror. The dress felt a little tight in your chest area. Pressing your lips together, trying to adjust it but nothing helps it. “Oh well.” You whisper, shutting off the lights and exiting the tiny room. 
“How do I look?” You give a twirl, your heels clicking on the wooden floors. Viktor gawks at his girlfriend, his cheeks flushing. “I’m guessing it looks good?” You tease, grasping at his hand to force it on your hip. Wasn’t much of a hassle to do. “Of course, more than good.” 
“Great, let’s go.” You press him into a kiss. His hand falling to his side as you strut away. Slipping your purse over your shoulder. He follows behind you, his eyes never leaving your body that looked absolutely stunning in the red dress. 
•••
“Are you sure they’ll like me?” You glance up to your boyfriend, walking hand in hand into the building. “Hun, that’s a silly question.” He squeezes your hand. You smile, bussing his soft lips. A gentleman opens the door for the both of you, you thank him as Viktor nods his head to the man. 
You admire all of the decorations in the large hallway. “I can’t believe you work here.” You murmur, it was gorgeous on the inside and out. “It is quite nice.” He agrees. 
“It should be in the media room.” Viktor directs you, pointing with his cane. “You never told me this place was ginormous” You genuinely are impressed with his workplace, not seeming to stop with compliments. He just smiles at your words, 
At last you two enter what looks like a ball room. Your eyes widen. Clutching his hand. “Wow.” You whisper in admiration. “Heyy! Viktor and… who’s this?” An unfamiliar man comes up to the both of you. You smile politely. “This is my girlfriend, [Name]. Hun, this is Jayce. My partner on the latest assignment I told you about.” He introduces and you thrust out your hand. “It’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard lots.” 
His expression was in utter confusement but nonetheless took your hand, noticing the other one holding onto his coworker’s. Which shouldn’t be surprising he was just told you were his girlfriend. “You as well, how long have you two been with one another?” 
You look over to Viktor who motions for you to go ahead and answer. “We just celebrated our 1 year last week actually.” You inform him, letting go of Viktor’s hand to hold onto his side. Jayce catches that as well. He didn’t figure that his work partner would be into physical touch but he just melts into your touch. 
“Well, congratulations.” Jayce says to you, glancing over to Viktor who was just gawking down at you. It was if he were in some weird trance. “Thank you!” You beam. 
“Of course, let me introduce you to my wife. She’s actually a part of the executive team and planned the party herself- I’ll be right back.” He says, heading off to find his life-partner and you look to Viktor. “He seemed lovely!” You bump his hip gently. “He is a genuine man, for sure.”
The two of you go over to the snack table, Viktor’s hand stays on the small of your back as you make a plate for the both of you to share. Waiting for Jayce to come back with the mystery woman, well mystery to you. 
“Do you want fruit?” You ask. “Sure.” He shrugs. You look back to him with an annoyed look. “Yes, dear.” He corrects himself, and you chuckle. You hate the word sure with a passion. It never tells you what the person truly wants. 
“Thank you.” You huff, finishing up the plate. 
You snake your hand back to his torso, you feed him a grape as you step to a table. A voice clears their throat behind you and you place the plate down. Both of you turned to whoever it was. 
“Mel, this is Viktor’s girlfriend, [Name].” Jayce presents you  as if you were a huge surprise and you straighten your posture, swallowing down the fruit you had just popped in your mouth. “You’re beautiful!” You spit out on accident and she giggles. “So are you! I didn’t know Viktor had such exquisite taste.” Mel flatters you and you radiate happily. 
“Oh! You’re too kind!” You blush, sheepishly squeezing yourself into your boyfriend’s side. Both Jayce and Mel observe your demeanors. How utterly in love you guys are. 
How every move he takes, you follow, or how your hands are glued to him in any way they can be. And Viktor wasn’t any better, he liquefies into every touch. His peepers at no time leaving sight of you. 
As the four of you chat you suddenly have to use the bathroom, you try to look around. Wondering where it could be but you didn’t want to interrupt the conversation. You chew at your bottom lip, Viktor notices. “You alright, dear?” He whispers into your ear and you nod. “Mhm, where’s the restroom?” You couldn’t hold it anymore. 
Mel overhears. “Oh, I can show you! Come with me!” She offers out a hand and you take it, not without kissing Viktor’s shoulder. 
As the two of you walk away, Jayce turns to his work partner with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me about her!?” He aggressively questions and Viktor sighs. “I mean seriously! She’s wonderful!” He continues. 
“She is.” Viktor nods, stuffing his empty hand into his pocket. “And you are so whipped for her. I mean the pda. I did not take you to do that.” Jayce was incredibly dramatic but Viktor kind of expected it. 
“Are you done?”
“Almost,” Jayce says. “You melt right into her, and you can’t look away for a single second. You’re obsessed with the woman!” He exclaims loudly. 
“Of course I am, Jayce. She’s my girlfriend.” Viktor lets out yet another sigh. “I know but I’ve never seen you with such… love in your eyes. You never look at me like that.” Jayce teases. Viktor glares at the man in front of him. “You’re an idiot, Tallis.” Viktor sees you heading back, mentally cheering that he doesn’t have to listen to this anymore. 
Mel and you were laughing with one another, your hand holding your stomach. The two of you leaning on one another. “You are so bad!” Mel shakes her head, giving your hand a small pat as you calm yourself. “I know, I know! That’s not even the worst of it!” You cry out, Viktor’s lips tug upwards. Jayce was even grinning ear to ear at the two women enjoying themselves like this. 
“What are you two laughing about?” Jayce questions and even Viktor’s intrigued. “Oh, um, I’m telling her about how Viktor and I met.” You disclose, raising your brows over to Viktor with a smirk. His cheeks turn red, remembering the moment. “What was so funny about it?” The tanned male asks. 
Viktor bows his head down, it was embarrassing on his part. 
“It was at a grocery store, both him and I were looking at the cucumbers and grabbed the same one. Like straight out of a romantic movie. Except Viktor told me that I would probably need it more than him.” You tell the story, going over to your boyfriend's side, taking his hand. “Oh my god.” Jayce gasps but Mel gently hits him. “It’s not even the best part!” She already starts snickering. 
“I told him that I need more than a cucumber for satisfaction. I was trying to flirt, it came out horribly.” You giggle, the two in front of you bursting into laughter. Viktor hides his own chuckle. “How did little Vik respond to that?” Jayce inquires. “Oh he was too stunned and I of course made it worse for myself!” 
“I told him, oh gosh I don’t know if I can say it.” You hide your face in your boyfriend’s shoulder. “I can do it.” Viktor perks up now that the worst of his part is over. “Go ahead.” You clench your teeth, cringing at the memory. Jayce and Mel are practically on their toes, so excited to hear. 
“She told me that she’d take my cucumber though. Then her face dropped, realizing what she said. She then backtracks and she says she meant number but the cucumber joke messed her up.” He tells the rest of the story. Even explaining how your first date went. 
And as time passed throughout the night you were chatting it up with everyone that came over. With that you could feel Viktor’s energy begin to deflate. You excuse yourself from the group conversation and walk over to the punch table. “You okay, dear?” Viktor worriedly asks. You knew he wouldn’t leave unless you said you wanted to. “I’m getting a little tired of all the talking.” You lie, pulling him into a hug. 
“You ready to go home?” He rubs your back, soothingly. “Mhm, as long as you’re okay with that?” You innocently look up at him. Knowing you were playing him too well. “Of course, [Name].” He plants a kiss on your forehead. 
“Let’s go say our goodbyes and we can head home.” He assures you and you smirk as you give him one last hug. 
•••
Turning the car on, you look over to your boyfriend who’s closing his eyes, resting in his seat. “I lied.” You back out of the spot. “Excuse me?” He opens his left eye, raising a brow. “I didn’t care if we left or not. I just knew you wanted to leave.” You simply say, pushing the gear into drive before laying your hand on his thigh. 
“What?” He sits up. “I lied because I knew you would’ve forced yourself to stay for my enjoyment.” You inform him with pursed out lips, wanting to pat yourself on the back. “Honey, you didn’t have to do that.” His hand falls a top yours. “I know but I love you and know the love of my life so well. I’d rather spend the rest of the night with you.” You look over at him. 
“I love you so much.” He groans out, throwing his head back. “Really? How much?” You stick out the tip of your tongue. His hand travels up your forearm then back down. Repeating this action. “I’ll have to show you when we get home, won’t I?” He purrs and you let out a squeal in excitement. 
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pixiepipedreams · 11 days ago
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♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — shaky like the first time our palms met in the clam sweat, heavy focus // in-ho x reader
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♡  ⁄  pairing: in-ho x reader ♡  ⁄  warnings & tags: fem!reader, canon-typical violence & death, obsessive behavior, lying/manipulation, age gap (reader is 20-22, in-ho & gi-hun are late 40s, early 50s), watched/touched in sleep, mature themes, references to sex, anxiety + coping mechanisms ♡  ⁄ wordcount: 5k ♡  ⁄ summary: the second day of the games prevents you from ending up on in-ho and gi-hun's team. it's a mistake that won't be repeated. the least he can do is try to teach you how to play your assigned mini-game. (sorry, we kinda lost the hints of gi-hun x reader in this chapter, but it'll make a return!) THIS IS PART TWO OF A SERIES! (➊) (➌)
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵ ﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
You fell asleep with his hand in your hair, your meandering thoughts only brushing the surface of questioning his own motivations for such a gentle comfort. Young-il is an interesting man, and he's certainly caught your attention - more than you'd admit to. Your dreams offer you respite instead of garish nightmares about the first game, dancing atop a river, the water like silk under your bare toes.
In-ho stays longer than he should. The way you fall asleep so quickly under his touch, despite being a self-proclaimed insomniac, only makes that protective pull in his chest grow stronger. He allows himself his moment of weakness - he already had his conversation with Gi-hun tonight, already fulfilled the daily quotient for his own personal mission. So he allows himself this, this quiet moment of watching you sleep - too long for it to be appropriate, but the only people that will know besides himself are the guards watching the cameras tonight. He's sure to give the closest camera a harsh, leveling glare once you fall asleep. He's still the Front Man, under it all. It also means he knows what angle to turn his head so they can't see any hints of tenderness in his already closely guarded expression. At one point, his hand slips from your hair, tracing down the line of your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, dipping inside. He catches himself - not as quickly as he should, but quick enough to prevent the stirring of arousal to turn into full on hardness. At some point, he finds himself almost falling asleep, his head resting on the bed next to you, and he forces himself to get up, leave your side, and returns to his own bed. And if he falls asleep only thinking of you, fighting down an erection, well... he's the only one who will ever know.
The morning is rung in with the sound of jarring music, too light-hearted for such a dark place, and an announcer calling the players to prepare for today's game. Your dreams fade quickly, and you blink awake, eyes scanning the room on instinct. You hadn't forgotten where you were, but the odd peace in your chest feels out of place.
It takes you a moment to realize you're looking for Young-il.
You can't spot him in the sea of black haired men and women, and it surprises you just how much disappointment rises in your chest. The guards call for the players to line up. You walk down the metal stairs, slipping into one of the lines.
Finally, your eyes land on Young-il. He's standing in a separate line with Gi-hun's group, which faintly surprises you. After what happened yesterday, you didn't expect for Gi-hun to willingly take in any of the people with a circle on their chest. But Young-il isn't the only one in their little group who voted to continue the games, and you feel a strange pull, like you should join them. You don't. You feel out of place, like you don't entirely belong with them. Maybe it's some residual insecurity from youth, but you stay where you are, eyes lingering on Young-il as he talks intensely with them.
The guards lead all the players out of the dormitories, into the brightly colored great hall. Yesterday, you had found it strange, on your way to the first game - the strange layout, the colorful walls. Today, you find it garish. Images flash behind your eyes, blood splattered in the dirt, a giant plastic doll with all-seeing eyes. Panic threatens to overtake you, and you take a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to focus on what you can see, take in the details.
You were never one for pastels, but you do like the shades of pink and green. Not your favorite, but striking on their own, if you focus on them one at a time instead of their disjointed clash. The architecture is fascinating, and you find yourself wondering what kind of person designed this place. For some reason, you picture a woman, older, nostalgic. You doubt that her own home would have a similar design, but it would be unique, fascinating. No dull corner.
By the time you reach the arena, your chest has settled, your stomach no longer in knots. The doors in front of you open, and you're led into a wide, open area. The walls are decorated with images and writings that imitate an elementary school. It makes sense, with the childish themes you've seen so far in these games. There are two circular rainbow tracks in the ground, and you focus on that, trying to discern what it could mean for the game you're about to play. The tracks could mean some kind of race? Perhaps a relay, where each member has to run the track before passing off the baton? There's five colors, so would that mean five players?
"Welcome to your second game," comes the woman's voice over the speakers. "This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes. Let me repeat."
Teams of five. You must be onto something. You were never good at running, but if you had to sprint for a short period, just once around the track, you could manage it. It would be advantageous to find a fit team, but the men would be less likely to take a woman in, with their own biases against the so-called inferior gender.
You're lost in thought when you catch the tail end of an argument nearby. "You can’t have the baby unless you make it out of here alive.
"I don’t trust you. You’re dead to me."
Looking over to the source of the voices, you spy a woman walking away from player 333 - that youtuber that Thanos fought yesterday, if you recall correctly. The woman's stomach bulges, even though she hides it under her tracksuit jacket - definitely pregnant. All of you are here for your own reasons, but she definitely doesn't belong here, and the 'X' on her chest fills you with guilt for putting her life on the line for a chance at getting enough money to settle your father's sins. Your heart aches for her, and before you can think better of it, you approach her.
"Can I help you find a team?" you ask abruptly, stopping her in her tracks. She looks at you warily, like she's not one to accept help, compelled to take care of herself alone. It's a look you're all too familiar with, one that lingers in your eyes behind your bathroom mirror.
"I don't need your help," she mutters, moving to push past you. You grab her wrist - firm, but not tight, eyes searching her face.
"Please. It'll be hard, to convince a team to let a woman in... let alone one of your condition. I can help." A comforting smile traces your lips. "I can be very persuasive if I need to be."
She hesitates, but it's enough. Self-preservation wins, in a place like this. The nod she gives you is small, but it's enough. Your hand slips into hers, and you tug her along.
Most teams don't even meet your eyes, and the few that you do approach together dismiss you quickly. Some of their expressions hold a trace of guilt, likely wondering if their denial will be sending the two of you to your deaths, but it's not enough. Self-preservation. Selfishness.
Maybe greed.
You try to stay optimistic, but the timer still ticks down. Eyes scan the room, desperation pinching at your chest, a frantic flutter to your heart, but you don't let it show on your expression. Just like before, in the dormitories, it takes you a moment to realize what you're really looking for, who's face you need to find. But this time, you find him quickly, smiling amiably with his group. There's no time for hesitation, your body pushing through the room, player 222 dragged behind you. When you finally come to a stop in front of them, your eyes flick from Young-il to Gi-hun. "Can she join you?" you ask, slightly breathless, 222 still behind you.
"Sorry, we've already got five people," one of them says, but your eyes are on Gi-hun's, searing. He owes you nothing, but you know he cares about the players in this game, that every death burrows deep into his heart. His eyes are weary, hesitant, but he doesn't break your gaze.
"Please," you say, stepping to the side. "She's pregnant." Your voice is determined, firm, and shock flashes through the group of men. Gi-hun's lips part, but he doesn't speak, perhaps stunned into silence. Hesitation.
There's no time.
You finally look at Young-il again, to find that he's studying you. There's surprise in his expression, but not even a hint of uncertainty. His eyes are intense, like always, and there's an edge of something... concern? Curiosity? Fascination? He's hard to read again, his face no longer easy to read in a group of people.
"Of course, she can join us," he says quietly, taking charge, eyes searching yours. You nod, relief seeping into your shoulders, and you release her hand.
"What about you?" 222 asks, catching your gaze before you walk away. Your eyes flick to the timer on the wall - thirty seconds.
"I'll figure something out," you mutter, then rush off.
It doesn't take long, this time, to find a group standing uncertainly, with only four members. The older woman and her son, a timid looking girl, and a tall woman who carries a certain strength that you instantly respect. It's not an ideal group, but you don't have time to be picky.
"Let me join you?" The words spill out, your own desperation probably obvious, but you're willing to bet they're just as desperate as you are.
10 seconds. The tall woman, player 120, looks at you, only pausing for a moment before responding. "Yes."
"Thank you," you say, bowing your head slightly, your shoulders sagging in relief. It doesn't last long. The announcer's voice rings out, silencing the chatter of the room. Time is up.
The guards call for the teams to sit in the center of each circle, lined up in your groups. Almost by design, Gi-hun and Young-il's team ends up next to yours, Young-il directly next to you with a gap separating you. Sitting with crossed legs in the dirt makes you feel like you're in kindergarten again, sitting on a multi-colored rug, surrounded by peers.
The announcer's voice again. "The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini-games. Number one, the Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gonggi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."
The blood drains from your face. You have an idea of what Spinning Top could be, but the only game listed that you're familiar with is Ddakji from your time with the recruiter. You can still feel the sting of every slap from your losses. You weren't good. Everyone in the room starts strategizing urgently, but all you can concentrate on - and concentrate is the wrong word entirely, your mind clouded with dread - is the way your thoughts swirl into darkness. If your team dies, it'll be because of you - not because of the trembling player 095, or the frail mother. You're the weak link, unskilled in these children's games, dragging everyone down into blood-soaked dirt with you.
"(Y/N)," Young-il whispers, reaching out to put his hand on your knee. The touch is like a jolt, and you almost flinch, your eyes instantly flicking up to meet his. It must be obvious, your panic. "I told you I'd help you, didn't I? We'll figure this out," he says, his eyes imploring you, your entire world focusing into his narrowed gaze.
You take a shaky breath, eyes scanning his face, trying to notice every detail, small features to adore. The crinkled lines by his eyes, evidence of a happier time. Bags under his eyes, and dark eyes that have the power to hold anyone in place. Aged skin, but smooth, soft looking. Bushy eyebrows. A hint of stubble. The shape of his lips...
The caged bird in your chest settles, and your next breath is a deep one. You nod slightly, eyes meeting his, and something in his expression eases. "I trust you," you murmur.
Something a little darker enters his eyes, but it's gone in a flash, like it was never there to begin with.
He lets go of your leg, turning to his team, but the calm in your body stays.
"Player 132," 120 calls to you, capturing your attention. "Do you know any of the games?"
You hesitate, then tentatively say, "I only know Ddakji... and I wasn't very good, against the recruiter."
120 looks oddly sympathetic, but there's a determined edge to the anxiety in her eyes. "Alright. Flying Stone is pretty simple - you throw a stone at another stone, trying to knock it over. Gonggi is definitely out - that requires years of practice--"
"I can do Gonggi," the older woman says firmly, leaving no room for argument. 120 nods.
"Jegi is simple. You kick a weighted paper jegi in the air a set amount of times, not letting it hit the ground. Spinning Top requires some skill, but it's not too hard to master, just requires calm hands and speed. You wrap some twine around a top, then throw it to the ground, trying to get it to spin."
"Uh-- could I take Flying Stone? I've never been good at jegi, and I don't have the precision for Spinning Top," player 007, the son, cuts in, looking a little nervous.
"That leaves Spinning Top and Jegi. Are you good with your feet?" 120 asks, not even skipping a beat. You have to admire her resolve - it's comforting, how she takes control. You're so used to handling everything yourself, that it helps to have someone else who knows what they're doing.
You shake your head slightly. Admittedly, the only game that you thought you had a good chance at was Flying Stone. You've always been clumsy from the waist down, and you've never played hacky-sack, which Jegi reminds you of. 120 stares at you for a moment, then nods. "It's decided, then. You take Spinning Top." Her eyes flick to player 095, and they begin discussing who should take Ddakji and who should take Jegi.
You stare at the ground, hoping your team doesn't get called first. If you get to watch a group play Spinning Top first, maybe you'll have a chance.
As the room settles again, the announcer's voice crackles over the speakers, instantly capturing your breath. The guards gesture for a group from each side to get to their feet, and you sigh in relief - you're not first. As the teams line up and get buckled together, Young-il murmurs your name. You look over instantly, your nervous eyes locked with his. "I got Spinning Top too," he murmurs. "Let me teach you how to play."
You smile, but it's barely a quirk of lips. "We don't have a top," you remind him.
"It's all about the motion," he says intensely. "You can do this."
It's the best chance you have, and you find yourself nodding.
As the game starts for the first groups, Young-il goes into explaining how to correctly wrap the twine. "The first thing you do is wind the twine around the axle. From there, you wanna wrap it tightly around the first three loops." He mimics the wrapping motion, and you nod, trying to visualize it. It's definitely different than it is in America - there are no grooves for any kind of twine back home, just the axle to spin the top from. "You wrap the rest of the twine, and then hold the end of it tightly - tightly - between your pinky and ring finger. It puts the top on a leash, gives you control." One of the teams succeeds in a game, and you glance over, the cheers of your side calling for your attention. "Hey. Eyes on me," Young-il says, firm and commanding, and your breath catches. You couldn't even dream of disobeying, your head snapping to look back at him. His lips quirk, almost forming a smirk, but it's gone as soon as it came. "The next part is all about speed. You hold the top in your hand, then flick your wrist out, throwing it. With the twine still between your fingers, you pull your hand back quickly, almost like a snap." He mimes the motion - flicking his wrist, then pulling his hand back. It's a fast movement, one that makes your own hand shake. You can't do this, there's no way you can be good enough at this game to pass before time runs out. Anxiety seizes your chest, and you take a few quick breaths, staring at his hand. Details. Focus. Smooth palms, square in shape. Rounded, well-maintained fingernails. Deep lines over the shape of his knuckles. Strong hands, that he only needed one of to take down a grown man.
You wonder what those hands would feel like, tracing the shape of your skin.
The thought startles you, but at least you've regained some steadiness. Your heart thumps for an entirely different reason now. One hand reaches out to cup the back of yours, almost gently, and you feel a shiver run down your spine, despite everything. The same hand that pet your hair until you fell asleep, perfectly at peace. His other hand reaches out to take your wrist. He curls your fingers for you, holding an invisible top, and shows your hand the movement slowly. Then again. His palm is warm, but his fingers are cold, and if your dizzy mind weren't already devoting all its energy to the task at hand, you'd find it poetic, metaphorical.
He gestures for you to try the motion again, and you do. You repeat the movement over and over, until the speed comes naturally to you.
Hope enters your chest, the sun dawning through the blinds, and when you look up at Young-il again, he has a small, proud smile on his face.
One of the team reaches the Spinning Top phase, and you turn your head, watching with rapt interest, finally seeing what had only been an image in your mind before. The man playing isn't very good - on his first throw, it simply clatters to the ground. Your chest clenches in sympathy. The team has to march again to pick it up.
"Hmm. I think messing up Spinning Top is gonna take even longer to recover from," player 290 leans over to say to Young-il. He narrows his eyes at him as he leans away, and your heart pounds. It's not comforting.
"Ignore him," Young-il mutters to you.
You nod faintly, focusing on the team as they get back into position.
The games continue. The timer runs down. It feels like every second passing is a needle in your gut, pinpricks of pain and nerves. And just like that - time runs out. The panicked cries of the players on the tracks fills you with dread, and you make a small, wounded noise. Young-il grabs your arm, tugging you until you almost fall over yourself into the dirt, pulling you against him. He hides your face in his chest, but you can still hear the begging, and then-- the gunshots.
You bury your face in his chest as he strokes your hair, trying to soothe you again. It doesn't work like it did last night. Distantly, you wonder if this is even allowed, but no guards command him to let go of you, or for you to go back to your spot. You take the comfort, eyes squeezed shut. No tears come, just a hollowness in your chest as he presses his face into the top of your head.
The guards clean up the bodies. Eventually, Young-il pushes your head lightly. The coast must be clear, but you're reluctant. Still, you let him. He cups your cheek, holding your face so you can look into his eyes. "It won't happen to you," he says firmly, his voice hushed, urgent. "I won't let it."
You give a dry laugh, humorless. "You wouldn't be able to prevent it, not in this game," you whisper. Focus. Details. The warmth of his hand, the fire hidden in the depths of his eyes, where his expression is usually so cold. The twist of his lips, not quite a frown, but something more determined. His hair, falling over his forehead.
You breathe. Once. Twice.
"Players 007, 095, 120, 132, 149." A guard is standing at the end of our row, his masked face directed at your group. Young-il lets you go, and you only tremble slightly as you get to your feet.
"I believe in you. You can do this," he says, one last parting gift of comfort, and you try to believe him too.
You're led to the track, taking your place on the blue line. Your legs get shackled together, and you try your damnedest not to think of anything at all. You're between 120 and 149, the tall woman and the old one. You link arms, feeling for all the world like you're being sentenced to death.
In-ho stares at you as you walk away, knowing there's not much he can do to prevent your death if you fail in this game. It's a mistake that won't be repeated. Despite your surges of anxiety, you'd surprised him with your focus, with the way your panic eased the longer your eyes traced over him. It made him feel... important. He's already important, it shouldn't matter. He leads these games, is always in control, but he'd never factored in an American girl with a strong will, with searching eyes that seemed to take comfort in him and him alone. He catches the gaze of a nearby guard, his eyes holding a warning, a threat. If you die, he will personally ensure that any guard or player that had a hand in it will die too. When he's sure the message is received, loud and clear, he looks back at you, in time to see your head turn, your eyes finding his. He offers no expression of comfort, just his intensity, that possessiveness that settles deep in his very soul. If you, or one of your teammates fails this game, he'll still have to watch you be shot, albeit non-fatally. Painful, but necessarily. He doesn't feel as in control of himself as he usually does, or as in control of the games, and the dark part of him finds it thrilling, new. It's not new. Another remnant of the man he used to be, but the lack of control is so foreign now, like a childhood friend he hasn't seen since high school, finding him once more. Every other part of him is frozen, holding its breath, waiting for the verdict on your demise.
Your eyes find Young-il's, his gaze locked on you. His expression is unreadable, but you have a feeling he won't take his eyes off you, and it almost feels like he's your guardian angel. The guards finish chaining you together, and you look forward, daring to hope.
The pentathlon starts.
The first game is Ddakji. Player 095's trembling hands hold the folded paper, and you wonder how a girl like her ended up here. She can't be much younger than you, but still, you feel a decade older watching her.
She doesn't flip the ddakji on the first throw. She picks it up again, and you're distantly surprised her fumbling fingers don't just drop it in the attempt. Another throw. Another miss. She picks it up. Your stomach sinks as she misses the next one, too, but then 120 throws her a bone, a tip. 095 throws the paper again. It flips.
"Pass."
The crowd cheers for you, and your team moves on, marching in time with the beat of your heart. Game two, Flying Stone. One of the first two teams didn't even get past it. 007 takes the stone that's handed to him. He throws it, misses. 120 calls out, organizing your march forward. You stop in front of the stone, and he leans down, grabs it.
"Okay! Now, we go backwards!"
All of you chant the march of your steps backwards, until you end up behind the line again. None of you can afford the time loss of him missing again, especially you, when you haven't even played your own mini-game before. You find yourself calling out encouragements, words that are almost meaningless. His mother grabs him, murmuring something about pretending that the stone is the face of someone who wronged him. His face contorts, he winds his hand back. A cry of words is wrenched from him, like a battle call, and he throws the stone.
The other stone falls.
"Pass."
The crowd cries up, the excitement of everyone growing, but you can only focus on marching forward to the next game. Gonggi. Only one away from your turn. You all kneel together on the ground. This is the game you know the least about, and as the older woman starts, you find yourself fascinated by the movement of her hand. She fumbles, a piece drops.
"Mom, you said you played Gonggi with bullets during the Korean War," her son says urgently, and the reminder seems to light a fire in her. She lasers in like you've never seen from a woman her age as she starts again. You don't understand the game, but the quick and nimble movement of her frail hands impresses you, gripping your lungs. You don't breathe, just watching, mesmerized. The pieces are thrown into the air, then land on the back of her hand. Her son speaks again, giving her the same lifeline he'd given her, something to imagine, to motivate.
The pieces are tossed up.
She catches them in her fist.
"Pass."
The crowd roars, and you almost stumble as you get back to her feet. It's your game next, but the determination of your team, the palpable excitement in the room, infects you like the best kind of virus. You come to a stop, and 120 releases your arm as you take the top and twine. Your fingers are surprisingly steady as you wrap the end of it around the axle, your mind on Young-il. The first three loops are wrapped tightly, and you finish winding it, eyes zeroed in on every movement.
You arch your arm, preparing to throw it.
As you move, though, your eyes catch on the blood on the ground, from the team before you. You falter. It doesn't help that you didn't grip the twine tight enough between your fingers, and it slips from your hands. Your heart stops. 120 grips your arm encouragingly. "C'mon--" she says, her voice urgent. You almost forget to take the first step as your team chants. One, two. One, two. It only takes a few steps for you to reach the top, and you bend down, grabbing it, trying to take deep breaths. Your team march backwards. One, two. One, two. You're back in place, and you hold the top and twine, hesitating for just a moment. You don't dare look at the timer. Breathe. You wrap the twine around the axle, the first three loops, then the rest. You grip it, the end of the twine held tightly - tightly - between your fingers. Focus. No time for the details.
As you wind your arm back, you feel the ghost of Young-il's hands, guiding your motion. His warm palm, his cold fingers, leading the way.
You throw the top, and with a flick of the wrist, pull your hand back. The top lands on the ground.
It spins.
"Pass."
The crowd erupts, and your teammates grab you. You can hardly breathe, joy overtaking you. One last game. One more. You march together, pride swelling in your chest, even though it's not over yet. You didn't let your team down. You didn't ruin this.
You come to a stop, and the paper jegi gets passed to 120. It looks nothing like you expected, and definitely not as heavy, and you're glad this isn't the game you chose.
"No one watch me, okay?" 120 yells to you and the team. You blink in surprise, but you don't question her, turning your body away as much as the constraints allow, patting 149 to do the same. "You too. Everybody turn," 120 calls out to the crowd. The reason is lost on you, but you can only assume that everyone listens, because you hear the jostle of paper being thrown up into the air, followed by the first smack of it against her foot.
One...
Two...
Three...
Four...
FIVE.
You cry out in victory and excitement, turning as you hear the final smack of paper on foot. "You did it, you--"
"Pass."
Everyone is yelling and chanting for your team, and the rhythm, the synchronicity is easy to find after doing this together so much. Unison. Comradery. When you pass the finish line, you almost don't believe it, but the roar of the crowd fills your ears. You want to collapse on the spot.
As the guards come up to unlock the shackles tying you together, you find Young-il's eyes. Easily, this time. You know exactly where he is, after all. He's got his arms wrapped around his teammates, celebrating with the rest of him, his eyes on you, only you. The pride, the sheer relief in his expression is practically a physical thing, and you smile at him, feeling drained, but like a winner. He saved you.
You wish you could run to him, throw your arms around him, celebrate in his arms. But that's not an option. The guards finish releasing you, then gesture for you to follow them, and you only have time to mouth 'good luck' to him before you're escorted away.
As the doors shut behind you, you remember that your own victory doesn't secure his. There's a chance that he won't make it back to you at all.
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵ ﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
♡  ⁄ taglist: @pursued-by-the-squid @in-hos-wife @bloooooopblopblop <33333 @nellabear @gloriousjellyfisharcade @politicstanner @xcinnamonmalfoyx @beebeechaos @delfinadolphin @bbrainr0t @ineedazeezee
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springtyme · 1 month ago
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Hey there. I love your Spencer Reid stories and was hoping I could request something.
Just something fluffy about day to day life with Spencer and a Diabetic female reader. I imagine he does lots of research, keeps snacks and juices in his desk at work ,for her lows. How does he react when her low sugar alarms go off at night? When she's so sorry for waking him, when he already gets to bed early in the mornings and only gets a few hours to sleep. Does he first mistake her insulin for "something else", and freaks out thinking she's a user?( I Had a boyfriend think that once).
I know this is a lot of an ask and it's okay if you don't write it. But I can't find any Diabetic reader fics anywhere and it'd be super cool if you could do one.
You can message me if you need info on life with diabetes.
𝐋𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ♡
Thank you for the request, hun. I tried to do my best to do as much research as I could, so I hope this is okay. But if I have gotten something wrong, please feel free to let me know <3
Spencer Reid x f!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Spencer takes care of you when you wake in the middle of the night to the sound of your glucose monitor.
word count: 2.0k
tags: Fluff. Comfort. Diabetic reader. Eating. Brief mentioning of reader being scared of feeling like a burden.
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You toss and turn in bed, the familiar feeling of dizziness creeping in as you start to come to. The soft beeping of your glucose monitor cuts through the quiet of the night, its persistent alarm pulling you from the depths of your dreams. You blink rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but your heart sinks as you realize what the sound means.
Low blood sugar.
Sitting up slowly, you take a moment to gather your senses and find your bearings. You glance over to see Spencer’s silhouette beside you. He always looks so peaceful when he sleeps, wavy locks of brown hair softly tousled against the pillow, his lips slightly parted in a way that makes your heart ache with affection, but he begins to stir next to you. Guilt floods your chest for waking him, knowing he sacrifices so much of his sleep already for his work with the BAU, often staying up late thinking about cases or preparing for the next day’s challenges or having to pull all-nighters when cases demand it.
You fumble for the monitor, desperate to silence the alarm before it disturbs the tranquility of the night any further, but it’s too late. Spencer stirs more, his brow furrowing as he blinks awake, his eyes adjusting to the low light with a hint of confusion.
He murmurs your name, his voice thick with sleep, his voice laced with a groggy confusion and concern.
“I’m so sorry,” you rush out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just—”
“Don’t apologize,” he interrupts gently, propping himself up on one elbow. His concern is palpable as he studies your face, and you can see the worry etched in the lines of his features. “How low is it?”
You glance at the screen of the monitor and wince, your heart sinking further at the number displayed. “I’m at 60. I just need a snack.”
His eyes widen slightly, and without another word, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands. You can’t help but admire the way he moves, even in his sleepy state. “Stay here,” he says, his voice firm yet soft, a request that you can’t help but obey, though you do feel a slight sense of guilt for waking him up and now getting him out of bed. “I’ll get you something.”
You watch as he leaves the bedroom and pads down the hallway, the sound of his bare feet against the hardwood floor grounding you in the moment. As he disappears from view, you pull your knees to your chest, feeling an overwhelming mix of embarrassment and gratitude. You know he needs his sleep—he’s been working so hard lately—but the way he cares for you, despite the toll it takes on him, makes your heart swell with a warmth you can’t quite describe.
A moment later, he returns with a glass of juice and a granola bar, a sleepy smile lighting up his face that makes your already fast beating heart flutter. “Here you go, ” he says, holding out the glass of juice for you, his eyes sparkling with affection.
“Spencer, you didn’t have to—”
“Yes, I did. Please stop saying that,” he interrupts again, his voice a soft  plea which instantly makes you feel lighter. “And I want to, so don’t worry about it.”
You take the glass from him, your fingers brushing against his as you do, sending a small thrill through you. “Still… I’m really sorry for waking you up,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. “You work so hard, and you need your rest.”
He shakes his head, his expression turning serious as he leans in closer. “You’re my priority. I’d rather be awake helping you than asleep worrying about you.”
You sip the juice, feeling the sweetness flood your system like a warm embrace, and you can’t help but smile at him, the corners of your mouth lifting despite the earlier panic. “You really are the best.”
“Just doing my job,” he replies, but the warmth in his eyes tells you how much he means it, how deeply he cares.
As you finish your juice he takes the glass from you to set it on his bedside side table before he sits himself down beside you on the bed, propping his pillow against the headboard and leaning back, his eyes still fixed on you with an unwavering concern. He reaches out, prompting you to come closer, his hand open and inviting.
You move closer, shifting to sit beside him, leaning against his side as he drapes his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. His presence is a comforting weight against your side, his fingers lingering against your skin, sending a soft shiver down your spine. “How are you feeling now?” he asks, his voice low and soothing.
“Better,” you admit, the dizziness fading as the fruit sugar kicks in, your body slowly returning to normal. “Thank you for being so amazing.”
He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with affection that makes your heart flutter. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
He pulls you closer against his side, and you nestle against him, feeling the comforting warmth of his body seep into your bones. You can’t help but close your eyes, letting the safety of his presence wash over you like a soothing balm, the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulling you further into relaxation as you wait for your blood sugar to go back to normal. 
“You can go back to sleep, if you want. You must be exhausted,” you say, though you don’t move away from his side. The warmth of his body feels too good, too safe, to leave even for a moment.
“I’m alright,” he replies, his voice a soft murmur, brushing against your ear like a gentle caress as he adjusts his hold on you, pulling you even closer. “I’d rather be here with you than trying to fall back asleep and worrying about you,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment that feels infinite. 
You smile to yourself, feeling cherished and safe in his embrace. “You really don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he insists, his voice steady and calm, unwavering in its sincerity. “I’ll always want to.”
The sincerity in his words wraps around you, warming you up from the inside. You breathe in the soothing scent of his skin, a mix of his shampoo and something uniquely him, and it brings you a sense of all encompassing peace you didn’t realize you needed. You let his words linger in the air around you for a moment before you break the silence, letting his sentiment absorb within you. 
“Spencer,” you finally whisper, the weight of the night’s events still lingering in your mind, “promise me that if I ever wake you up like this in the future, and it does bother you, you’ll tell me,” you say, a hint of vulnerability in your tone. “I don’t want to feel guilty for needing you.”
He shifts slightly, tilting your chin up with his finger so you can meet his gaze. The warmth and sincerity in his eyes make your heart flutter again, pushing the remnants of guilt away.
“I can’t promise that I won’t be a little groggy,” he says, his voice low and steady. “But I can promise you will never bother me  for needing help. That’s what I’m here for.”
You nod slowly, feeling the tension in your chest ease just a bit. “I appreciate that,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… I would hate to be a burden. ”
“But you’re not,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes you feel seen. “You’re not a burden. You’re my partner, and that means I’ll always be here for you, no matter the hour. It’s just part of loving someone.”
You let out a soft sigh, both relieved and grateful. “You make it sound so easy.”
He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through you. “But it is easy. I love you.” He says it so matter of factly that it sends a rush of warmth through your chest. The simplicity of his declaration feels monumental than than any grand gesture could ever be. 
You feel your cheeks warm at his words, the moment between you and Spencer vibrates through you, it feels all consuming in a way that leaves you momentarily breathless. “I love you too,” you reply, your voice a little shaky as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, closing your eyes as you let yourself fully sink into the moment and let the weight of the world outside fade away for a bit.
Minutes pass in peaceful silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the night and the quiet rhythm of your breathing. You can feel Spencer’s heart beating steadily beside you, a calm and reassuring presence. You drift into a peaceful state of half slumber, your mind finding a place of ease. Every now and then, you feel Spencer’s fingers gently tracing small patterns on your arm, grounding you in the moment until his voice finally breaks through the silence. 
“I think it’s time to check your blood sugar again,” he says softly, his tone gentle but filled with care. “Make sure you’re back to normal.”
You nod slightly, still nestled against him, reluctant to break the comfort of the moment. “Yeah” you murmur, your voice thick with sleepiness.
Spencer shifts away just enough to reach for your monitor. As he checks the reading, you watch him, noting the way his brow furrows in concentration, an expression you’ve come to recognize as his deep-seated need to ensure your well-being.
He glances back at you, a slight smile breaking through the concern. “You’re at 85. Just a little lower than your target, but still good.” He takes the granola bar from the bedside table and hands it to you, his eyes still filled with warmth and encouragement. “Finish this, and I’ll feel a lot better.”
You take the granola bar, feeling a swell of appreciation for his attentiveness. “Thank you,” you say, your voice soft as you unwrap it and take a small bite. The chewy texture and nutty flavor is comforting on your tongue. As you chew, you watch him, unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face. He’s still watching you, his gaze a mix of concern and affection, and it makes your heart race. “What?” you ask playfully, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Just admiring you,” he replies, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re really beautiful.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks. “Spencer, it’s 3 AM, and I just woke you up because of a blood sugar emergency. I don’t think ‘beautiful’ is the first word that comes to mind.”
He just shrugs his shoulders, a sweet, almost shy smile playing on his lips. “For me it is,” he insists, his voice steady, and the earnestness in his eyes makes you melt a little inside.
You finish the granola bar, feeling a little more energized. “You really are the sweetest.”
Spencer just shrugs again, holding out his hand so you can hand over the now empty granola bar wrapper to discharge it next to the empty juice glass. As the two of you lay back down on the mattress, Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around you once more, pulling you close. The warmth of his body envelops you, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks, his voice still a soft murmur, the concern never quite leaving his tone.
“Yeah,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face. 
“Good,” he says, his eyes sparkling with relief. 
You nod, feeling the weight of the night sink in, wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of comfort.
As your eyes flutter closed once more, Spencer kisses the top of your head gently, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, his voice a soothing balm that sends you drifting back toward dreamland. With a final squeeze of his hand, you nestle deeper into his embrace, feeling cherished and safe as you slip back into slumber.
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deadlychansaw · 1 month ago
Text
— hope
pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x reader
warnings: vomiting, no use of y/n, bit angst, pregnancy, it happens during ep 2 s2
a/n: omg first time writing something like this, i hope someone enjoy this 🫣
00:30 was the number sparkling in neon red in her bedside watch. She couldn't stop looking at it. She couldn't sleep. How could she? The bed too big and cold for her to be alone, she missed her husband. Where was he?
She thought that after the coma he would retire and live peacefully with her, maybe in some cabin in the woods with two kids and a dog. this thought alone made her want to tear up.
She knew being a police officer was dangerous, so every time he wasn't home she feared that something had happened. This made her want to throw up, and she did.
That was unusual for her, maybe... no. It couldn't be. But when was the last time she had her period again? It was nine days late, this was also unusual. How haven't she noticed it?
00:45. She couldn't wait until morning so she picked up her car and went to a 24h open drugstore
"Do you need any help, miss?"
"I want a pregnancy test"
"Are you alright, dear?"
She hadn't noticed that small tears started to run down her face.
"I will be"
As the old lady gave her the test she smiled sympathetically and said:
"I'm sure you will. You don't need to be afraid"
" My husband is a cop" She felt the need to reply
"Oh, I see. But you will be fine, dear. I felt the same when my husband fought in war."
This time, she didn't reply.
She got home after speeding the car a little more than necessary and running a few red lights and went straight to the bathroom to do the goddamn test.
Palms sweaty, hands shaking and feet stomping in circles. It hasn't even passed the three minutes the test needed to be ready, just a few more seconds and...
oh.
Positive. p-o-s-i-t-i-v-e.
She was pregnant and wasn't even sure her husband would return home. Where are you Jun-ho?
"Babe, why are you sleeping on the couch?"
His voice reached her ears like the light in the end of a dark tunnel.
"I was waiting for you"
"My love, you know you don't need to"
"But I wanted to. Where were you?"
"I was in some kind of a car chase, but they shot in my tires"
That made her eyes open wide. "What? Chasing who? Are you hurt?"
"I'm not hurt. I wish I could tell you everything but i don't wanna put you at risk"
"I accepted the risk the day i accepted to be your wife. Please tell me. I'd rather know what i'm scared of"
"I guess you're right"
So he tells her everything. The games, his brother, his plan with Gi-hun. Everything.
"That is awful. Unbelievably awful. How can some people be so disgusting and evil? Gosh, that makes me sick"
She ran to the bathroom and started to vomit in the toilet, he ran after her and held her hair.
"Are you okay? I know it's s lot to process"
"Oh my God, I'm sorry for this, now you'll never want to kiss me again."
"There's not a world where i wouldn't want to kiss you" He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "But let's brush those teeth, shall we?"
Jun-ho gets up to put toothpaste in her toothbrush and give it to her.
"I don't know what i did to deserve you, Jun-ho"
"I am the lucky one here, babe. You're still here with me after everything i told you."
"i'm not leaving your side. Never."
He picks her up in bridal style.
"What are you doing?"
"Putting my wife to bed, as i should"
He really was the sweetest thing in her life, she needed to tell him already. All the what-ifs started coming to head again what if he doesn't want a child? what if he doesn't have time to form a family? what if he never come back home anymore?
"Babe, are you crying?"
"Do you really need to search for that island?"
"I do. These games need to stop."
"I don't want anything bad happening to you"
"I promise it won't. I will always come back home to you" He seals the promise by joining their lips in a long, slow and passionate kiss.
"Jun-ho, I need to tell you something but i'm so afraid of how you're gonna react."
"You don't need to be afraid, my love. I'm always here for you no matter what"
"I- I am pregnant" She doesn't wait for him to answer. " I know it's not the right time, and maybe you don't even want to be a dad and-"
She sees that he opened his characteristically big and warm smile, one that lights up her whole world.
"Are you... happy?"
"Are you kidding? Babe i feel like the luckiest guy of all South Korea. I'm so happy. Oh my god, i'm gonna have a daughter "
That made her chuckle.
"We don't know if it's a girl"
"Oh i'm sure of that. We need to celebrate"
"Celebrate? At this time? How?
"Hmm, i can think of a few ways..."
And she had a feeling she haven't felt in a while. relief. Hope.
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thepersonnamedsam · 3 months ago
Text
grin to win - the genz!driver
Tumblr media
pairing: the genz!driver x 24!grid (pre and during singapore)
summary: it’s the gzd first ever win, but getting there was a bumpy road
word count: 4.3k
warning: not proof read and some angst, talks about not feeling enough and all that
note: i am so sorry for not having updated in such a long time, i do hope you still like my stuff :)
masterlist / taglist
it has been weeks since our beloved gen-z driver has had a positive experience. silly season started earlier than she thought - daniel was rumoured to be dropped soon. max hasn’t won for a long time, she wasn’t sure if that’s positive or negative, but she feels sorry for her favourite dutch. carlos finally announced he’s signed with williams.
oh, and logan’s been dropped.
oliver is driving for haas next year. mclaren overtook redbull in the constructors championship. lando has started his transition to mad-lando (get it? because he’s starting to drive like mad-max? anyway). kimi signed with mercedes.
but there weren’t any news surrounding y/n. nothing negative, but also nothing positive. no rumours of her signing with a new team, or staying at her current team. her contract will run out at the end of the season.
she hasn’t heard from her team ceo or principal yet. she wasn’t underperforming, no she’s just performing as expected. but also not doing better.
she needed that something. that something that reassured her, that she’s in the right place. she needed at least a podium this season. that’s what she was telling herself for the last weeks. beating herself up, every time she didn’t perform well enough (in her eyes, we have to say. because if you looked at it from a neutral view, she was doing more than fine).
the stress has been eating her up. she was staying longer at the gym, eating less, seeing the guys less, not seeing her friends or family. even her boyfriend broke up with her, because she’s been ignoring him and focusing too much on her racing.
lewis was the first one to suspect something, knowing this behaviour all to well from himself. but he didn’t know what to do. should he ask her about it or say something to someone professional?
the first thing he did was tell george. george usually knew what to do. except this time.
„lew, im sorry man, i don’t know what do do“, he sighed and looked over to his teammate. „we could just tell the principal, but i don’t know if we‘ll brake her trust this way.“
„she just needs to see, that she’s good enough, i know that that’s the issue she’s having right now“, said lewis to george.
the taller one just shrugged, „maybe we should just, you know, talk to her“, he suggested.
lewis agreed, but he was sure, that he was the wrong person to talk to y/n. that’s why he called seb.
and as her phone started to ring and her favourite picture of her and seb appeared on her screen, she instantly knew, that someone noticed her weird behaviour. why else would sebastian call during race week?
with a heavy sigh she picked up her phone and tried to sound as happy as possible as she said: „hi seb! what’s going on?“
the german scrunched up his face as he heard the rather happy voice of the young girl. „hi there, pretty lady. i heard you’ve been absent lately“, he said softly.
the moment y/n heard her current situation from someone else, her tears fell. she didn’t think that it’d effect her this much, someone knowing what’s been going on lately, but it did.
„how do you know?“, she sniffled. her cries broke sebs heart, he could only imagine how his daughter’s future teenage cries would take him out.
„a birdie noticed and told me, hun.“ - „who was it? tell me it wasn’t my ex, because that bloody pig told me, if i couldn’t care enough about him, he wouldn’t care about me and if he called you, that means he’d still care about me and that would only make me feel more guilt over the whole situation“, y/n started to ramble.
„hey hey, no, it wasn’t him“, seb stopped her rambling. „i won’t tell you who, im just gonna tell you, as someone standing on the sidelines, you’re doing more than fine, okay?“
she shook her head no, even though the retired driver couldn’t see her. „no im not, everybody’s getting to sign their new contract or has been rumoured to be let go, but nothings happening with me“, she sighed.
seb told her, that this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, that teams usually like to torture their drivers to see how far they’re willing to push. and that she just had to let the team get to her and not assume anything.
„but what if it’s like the situation with daniel? or logan? what if it’s the same with me?“
„then so be it, you can come to switzerland for a few weeks, we‘ll forget the whole thing and organise something new, it’s as easy as that“, seb told her.
„and honestly, y/n, you’re not being dropped, or rumours would have already been going around. as i said, just go with the flow.“
that’s what she tried. she tried to engage more with the other drivers. she tried to enjoy little things like eating chocolate.
she started to regularly talk with seb and talk about her feelings and worries - which helped her a lot.
and as time flew by, she got back into her zone. back into that racing mode, back into the fight.
it was singapore, hot and humid, but she was ready to fight. right before qualifying lewis visited her garage. looking relieved to see her spirits back where they belong.
„kiddo, you ready?“, he asked. y/n grinned at him and threw two thumps up. „good“, he murmured.
„good luck!“, he shouted. „you too, you’re gonna need it with my pace“, she laughed back.
„i hope so“, whispered the mercedes driver. „i really hope so.“
y/n sat in her car, she felt that something good would be happening. she never felt this ready for qualifying before.
q1 and q2 went by as a breeze. her lap times were phenomenal, she’s done better, but they were still great. easing into q3 with a good feeling and good lap times.
„y/n, you’ve been doing great out there, don’t push yourself too much, okay? i’ll tell you when to give it your all. we’re going for the front row“, her race engineer told her.
front row, that was really something.
„you think we can do it?“, she asked nervously. „i think that you can do it.“
with that statement she drove out of the garage onto the track. driving some laps to warm up her tyres. feeling the track and the car. she took a deep breath in and let it out and waited for her race engineer to giver her their sign.
tears stained her cheeks as she got out of the car. everything was blurry. confusion was written on her face. qualifying just ended and she will start the race from p2 on sunday.
she couldn’t believe it, neither could her team or to be honest, every other driver on the grid.
journalist started to surround the garage, friends of the young girl had trouble getting to her. the first one who made it through the masses, was oscar.
as soon as she saw him, she started screaming; „oscar! can you believe it?“
the aussy looked at the girl, or rather young woman, and only grinned at her. „you’re giving me the creeps with that smile, os“, y/n giggled. „you look like the joker, who are you about to murder?“
„the one who’s been making you feel worthless, but that’s a different story“, he half whispered half sighed.
the young driver had to sigh, she knew the other drivers had caught on her emotions. but she didn’t think, that they’d know in this detail.
y/n grinned through the pang and hugged the australian. „thanks for being there for me“, she whispered.
the moment oscar wanted to say something sentimental, his teammate barged through the journalists and jumped on them both.
„i cannot believe it! my best friend, starting front row, my goodness“, he exhaled and inhaled again: „together! we’re starting front row together!“
y/n giggled once again, she felt, that this wasn’t the last giggle of the day. „will you let me pass?“, she asked jokingly.
lando looked shocked: „are you kidding me? nuh-uh, no way in hell will i let you pass, now that im a race winner, you’ll have to earn it fair and square!“
„fair“, oscar laughed. y/n shoved oscar outraged. „you’re on his side?“ - „i am a race winner too, you know?“
„indeed he is“, carlos called from the end of the garage. „oi, this isn’t your garage“, a mechanic of her team shouted, „this isn’t all of you guys‘ garage“, he said, as he realised two more drivers were present.
„let’s go, we‘re going to some hospitality or something“, y/n suggested. with an apologetic look towards the mechanics, the drivers left the garage.
„i’ll update the groupchat and tell them where we are“, lando mumbled. oscar’s and carlos‘ phone dinged, but y/n‘s was left out.
„wait, what groupchat did you text?“, she asked confused. „the one about you’re crisis-“ lando just saw carlos‘ and oscar’s head shacking no, as he slowly finished his sentence, realising his mistake, „-without you in it.“
„what?“ - „lewis and seb created a groupchat, to discuss some tips on how to lift your spirits, s‘all“, oscar slowly explained.
„okay“, said the female driver slowly. „thanks, i guess?“
„wait, so you all knew? i mean i kind of suspected you knowing, but you all knew? and what did you discuss?“
the three drivers thought carefully about their next words. carlos was the first to speak out: „nothing really. lewis just told us, that your behaviour reminded him of himself when he first joined mercedes and seb just told us, that he was talking with you about it and just kind of updated us.“
„y/n you’re very important to all of us, we love you and want you to be well. if somethings going on, we worry about you and want to fix it“, oscar supplemented.
„why didn’t you tell us?“ lando was the last to speak. his voice full of hurt. „oh lando, im sorry, i didn’t want to bother all of you with my shit“, she admitted.
daniel could see the falling tears on her face from far away. he could also see the many cameras realising their existence. he sprinted over to the four, to mainly shield them from the media, but his weird running drew more attention to the drivers.
„hi there, don’t cry, cameras“, he huffed. the little smile came back to y/n‘s face, as she looked at daniel’s red and out of breath face.
„hey i thought you were a high performance athlete?“, she smiled and wiped away her tears. „i am, athletes sweat, baby“, daniel said.
„i heard that that’s your last race, is it true, danny?“, she changed the topic from herself to the smiley australian.
„don’t change the topic, girly“, he smiled sincerely. „there’s no truth, until you get that breaking post on insta.“
„hey, but front row, huh? how nice does it feel?“, he asked her. still on the move, she nearly tripped, not only over her next sentence, but also over a curb; „very good but also kinda scary.“
„i got lando here in front of me and max behind me, just a little bit scary“, she elaborated further.
at the mention of the dutch, he appeared in front of the group suddenly. „i heard my name, what’s going on?“
„i get it, max is scary“, oscar whispered more to himself. „dude, how’d you do that?“, lando asked impressed.
„magic“, max waved his hand in front of his face and laughed. he high five’d y/n next and smiled at the other drivers.
„max is scary when he smiles“, said oscar slow and quietly towards lando, who agreed soundlessly. „hey, watch it“, max then pointed out.
on the other side, daniel was standing close to y/n, studying every twitch on her face. looking at carlos they silently communicated. the older two each grabbed a hand of hers and pulled her towards the next hospitality.
as usual, lando, max and oscar didn’t notice the other three‘s disappearance.
the two mercedes drivers, fernando and charles were already waiting. as soon as the female driver noticed lewis‘ braids, she sprinted towards him.
he though that she would gleefully hug him, but thought differently. with an angry step she stood in front of him. „how dare you make a groupchat about my feelings!“, she pointed a finger at his chest.
although she was small, she was fearful. her finger digging painfully into his chest, twisting every other second.
the older driver caved under her touch and slouched: „i’m so sorry, i just wanted to help.“
„by creating a groupchat? you could’ve just talked to me“, she sighed. „i know, but i thought i wasn’t the right person“, he admitted. „lew, you’re always the right person to talk to me“, she smiled lightly, „don’t ever do that again though!“
„okay“, he agreed, „but front row, love! how excited are you?“
and then she explained her thoughts all over again. noticing max not being here to make a scary entrance again. she explained happily, how the dutch suddenly appeared in front of her and how he reminded her of the flying dutch.
george and nando stood there listening to their favourite driver and grinned at her expressions and exclamations. her arms were up in the air, face twisted to match each of her words.
if that young woman would not be like this ever again, they swore to change the whole world for her.
„i’ll miss her“, daniel whispered to lewis. „oh buddy, it’s official then, this your last race?“
daniel nodded: „they have to recruite liam or he’s free to whichever team signs him.“ lewis looked at his friend, they’ve known each other for so long. it‘ll be weird without the australian on the grid.
„does she know?“, he then asked. „no, wouldn’t want to jinx anything and take her spirits away“, daniel hummed. „i get it, you have to tell her after the race though. wouldn’t be fair if she found out through insta.“
oscar, lando and max then trailed in with pierre, alex and charles. looking at the scene in front of them;
y/n telling some sort of story with fernando and george watching them and lewis with daniel standing on the side talking with hushed voices.
„we should celebrate“, lando said out of the blue. the female driver gasped upon hearing the random suggestion and turned around to face her best friend.
„yes, oh my god, that is such a good idea“, she excitedly said. „what should we do?“
charles said, that they could order pizza. pierre disagreed and said, that they should rent out a restaurant and eat authentic food. oscar thinks, that they should treat themselves with some spa time (they think, that lily really has a grip on that man).
lando suggested they’d go to the cinema. carlos said, that they should just go back to the hotel and do a relaxing movie night. lewis suggested they take a stroll with roscoe and leo. max thought some laps on the sim would be enough to celebrate.
george thought, that exploring singapore would be fun. fernando was just happy to tag along. daniel wanted to go swimming somewhere. and y/n, she really wanted to bury her face in ice cream and enjoy the time with her boys.
so that’s what they did. bought loads of ice cream, rented some movies at her hotel, turned her room into a home cinema and ordered some pizza too, just for fun. and of course roscoe had to stay there too.
after all that celebration, y/n was so tired, she fell asleep on fernando. he gushed and ushered the others to take some pics.
after tucking her in, setting the alarm for the next day, they all bid their goodbyes and left y/n alone. except lando - he stayed.
he was her best friend after all and he had to talk about all of the stuff with her. but it could wait until the morning, he was pretty tired himself.
as the alarm clock rang, y/n jolted up, confused as to where she was. seeing her hotel room, she remembered yesterday and what they did. she then felt someone moving beside her, turning around she saw a head full of curls and knew not to worry.
„lando, what are you doing here?“, she giggled. the mclaren driver groaned and stuffed his face into the pillow. „i have to talk about the stuff with you“, he then said.
„and you had to stay here why?“ - „because i knew i wouldn’t catch you before you would leave for the paddock, only logical solution was to stay here with you“, he finally lifted up his head and grinned at his best friend.
she laughed a little and ruffled up his hair. „you’re cute, but we don’t need to talk.“
he shook his head and made some grunting noises, disagreeing with her statement. „but we do, i need to talk about it.“
she told him everything he wanted to know. from the first time she thought she was not enough, to the phone calls with seb and to her feeling better over time.
„just promise me you’ll talk to me next time, okay?“, he begged her at the end of their conversation. she nodded. „say it, say that you’ll talk to me.“ - „i will, i will talk to you, lando, i promise.“
„good, but now, let’s get ready to race“, he grinned and changed the subject. y/n almost forgot, that they had a race to drive. and that she was starting from p2! „let’s go“, she excitedly said.
the day almost went by like a blur. the two arrived at the paddock, parted ways at her garage, bid good luck to each other.
she started her training session? warmed up with her trainer, ate some food, went to the toilet, that’s important. and then she already had to attempt the drivers parade.
she has never felt this nervous before. standing on that wagon, waving to the fans, not wanting to let anyone down, but mostly not herself.
the compulsive thoughts were coming back and she tried to remember what seb taught her. she breathed in for eight seconds, held her breath for seven, breathed out for eight again and held for seven. she repeated the box breathing method and tried to focus on the here and now.
lando saw her struggling to maintain a happy face and went over to her. „s‘all good?“, he asked in a hushed voice.
she nodded softly; „just trying to stay in the moment and not drift too far into the future.“
lando nodded, kind of understanding what she meant and just stayed by her side until the parade was over. as they parted ways for the second time that day, he hugged her and wished her only the best of luck.
her pre-race-ritual was listening to music, so she whipped out her headphones and blasted her loudest music on her playlist.
she almost jumped as her race engineer tapped her shoulder, to inform her that it was time to get into the car.
even though the first half of the day felt sped up, now everything was moving in slow motion.
she felt like james bond or any other action movie hero. her headphones still blasting music, she imagined herself looking total badass getting into her car.
step by step, nodding her head along to the music. arms flung up into the air to squeeze herself into the car. she mouthed some of the words as a mechanic gave her her steering wheel.
slowly she placed it into the socket and clicked it into it. still, everyone was moving in slow motion. she closed her eyes for a second, just trying to find her inner peace.
the music faded, she concentrated on her heartbeat. feeling it slow down, beat per beat. as she opened her eyes, the world was back to normal speed.
she took off her headphones, handed them to someone standing around the car. she lifted up her gloves, put them on and clapped her hands together.
„let’s get going then, ey?“, y/n then said to her crew. no clear answer came back, just some reassuring noises from around.
her helmet was laying in front of her, she looked at her drivers number, traced it with her finger and swiftly put it on.
the car was then rolled on to the track, everything was buzzing. she heard her race engineer checking the coms. hustling around her were all of the mechanics.
y/n went over the track once again. she knew every corner, she felt every bump on the road. her body knew when to turn, when to slow down or speed up. she knew what to do, this was her race.
she proved it by overtaking lando on corner one, lap one. right after the start there was a new race leader and they were called y/n l/n.
a woman was leading a formula one race.
she took off, she didn’t have to think about it, it was all muscle memory.
little did she know, lando was cheering behind her. even max was grinning like a mad man. for once both of them were content with not winning.
history was made on that day. as y/n crossed that finish line she couldn’t believe what was happening.
„y/n l/n, you are a formula one grand prix winner!“, she just heard her race engineer through her coms.
„and there it is, the first woman to win an f1 race, can you believe that we’ve just witnessed history?“
„i cannot, oh this is just fantastic! y/n proved that she could win, even with a mediocre car, just imagine her in a redbull or ferrari. this is beautiful, unbelievable.“
the female drivers head was spinning. what does she have to do now? in her whole career she only had one podium. but she was pumped with adrenaline that moment, she really just can’t recall what she has to do now.
she figured she’d just follow lando in her car and behold, she ended up at parc fermé. parking her car in front of the stand with the number one on it, she climbed out of it.
fuck, what cool pose was she gonna do? she hadn’t thought about that. just, improvise, she thought.
i’d will be embarrassing either way, she thought next. she took out her steering wheel, disconnected her helmet from the car and coms and jumped out of the car.
and then she just fell to her knees. at first sobbing into her helmet and not believing everything that has happened so far.
but the sobs quickly turned into laughter. she bowed, just like sebastian did, in front of her car.
sighing with happiness she stood up from the ground. lando came running to her, scooping her up and basically throwing her around.
„my god, you did it! you really did it!“
that was the actual moment, y/n realised what just had happened. that she had just won a grand prix. that she had just written history. that she had just done it.
max was coming from the other side, almost skipping. when have you ever seen max verstappen skipping?
„oh wow, this must feel so great, huh?“, he asked. „like a mountain falling from my shoulders actually“, she said.
she wanted to say so much more, but she was pulled aside to weigh. that procedure she knew. and then, there was her team, ready to celebrate the young driver.
just like lando, she sprinted towards them and jumped into the team. she was lifted up, chants were heard throughout the whole parc fermé.
„congratulations y/n, i knew you’d write history one day“, her team principal congratulated her.
from the side of her eye she saw christian horner giving her two thumps up. the next moment he mouthed: „let’s talk.“
does this mean? oh my god.
her chain of thoughts were broken, as lando pulled her along in to the cool down room.
she laid her helmet on the pillar and took the pirelli hat from the stand. her heart had finally time to calm down.
max and lando were grinning like crazy, as they approached the young girl woman. „congratulations, y/n, well done, perfect driving, couldn’t have done it better myself“, max told her. „ahhh, we’re both race winners!“, lando then shouted.
„that’s true! oh my god, i can’t believe it, and in the same season, high five!“
„who do i spray with my champagne, you or max?“, she suddenly asked. both men laughed at her question. „you spray whoever you want.“
so that’s what she did. before that, she closed her eyes at the national anthem. quietly sang along. never felt this much pride before. received the trophy and placed it far, far away from lando and shook that chanpagne bottle to spray all of the people present at the podium.
she took a swig of the god awful champagne, she remembered from last time how nasty it tasted. and she held her promise she once had with daniel.
at her first win, she would do a shoey, without any hesitation. she took of her sweaty shoes, sat down on the podium, filled the shoe up to the rim, hopefully the first sip would have the least amount of sweat and just started chugging it.
if you were present that day, you heard daniel ricciardo shouting and yelling at her from parc fermé. his whistling may have been recorded by the cameras, but who knows, the whole world was whistling for her in that moment.
nothing would ever beat that feeling ever again. drenched in sweat and champagne, chugged the mix of it and a heart full of love in that moment. she grinned at her win.
°°°
taglist: i feel like, im not gonna tag anyone for this, bc i haven’t posted in such a long time and i don’t wanna bother anyone…
so if you’re on my taglist and don’t want to be on it anymore, just post a comment under this and i’ll remove you :)
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idkshithead · 7 days ago
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⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ 𓊆ྀི gi-hun headcanons! 𓊇ྀི
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·˚ ༘ — pairing: seong gi-hun x fem!reader
—❕warnings: nsfw content, mentions of trauma and insomnia (slightly), gi-hun being a cutie pookie patootie that i actually giggled and kicked my feet while writing this. i love him sm
。𖦹°‧ sfw!:
season 1
— 𐙚 your relationship with gi-hun is a “pretty gf, obsessed bf” typa thing. he’d do anything for you. literally. you have cramps during your period? no problem cause he’s already out buying your favorite sweets. you don’t feel good about yourself all of a sudden? no worries cause he’ll sit you on his lap reminding you of how beautiful you are, of how much he loves you (and of how much you turn him on).
— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun is def the jealous type. mostly because he knows he’s not the perfect man to date due to all his family and financial problems so every time he sees a guy approaching you, maybe even good-looking, he’ll definitely pout: either he comes closer and grasps your waist tightly to show him you’re his, or he’ll just be silent and pretend to mind his business even tho he’s hurting inside cause he’s afraid you’ll replace him.
— 𐙚 later you’ll eventually tease him and tell him about how cute it is when he acts all jealous even when he tries to deny it. loves when you ruffle his hair/pinch his cheeks/cover his face in kisses to reassure him.
— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun is the type of man who really wants to spoil you with expensive gifts to make you happy but knows he can’t because of his lack of money. tries to make it up to you with simple dates (pic-nics, late night walks/drives, cuddle sessions etc.) even tho you tell him you don’t care about gifts and that you like simple actions. he’ll keep that in mind and will eventually start giving you picked-up flowers or short handwritten letters.
— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun’s life felt so much brighter when he met you and he couldn’t tell why. your presence just made him feel warm in his chest and he would remind you every. single. day.
— 𐙚 would definitely hug you from behind while you cook and start kissing your neck. later he would pick you up and sit you on the kitchen counter and start making out/cuddle with you while he whispers how much you mean to him etc. will make you promise to never leave him.
— 𐙚 one thing you ABSOLUTELY love about gi-hun, is his hair. it’s so fluffy and soft that you wanna touch it every minute of the day. in rough days he loves to lay on your thighs while you caress his scalp, play with strands of his hair to relax him until he’ll eventually fall asleep.
— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun would let you meet his daughter almost immediately cause when he met you first, he knew you would be the one. when he sees you get along really well with her he would smile like an idiot cause he loves to see the 2 most important girls of his life talking/having fun together.
season 2
— 𐙚 hate to say this, but s2 gi-hun is a whole different person. he’s not the smiley guy he once was and stay sure that he WILL be over protective, over possessive, over everything. can you blame him tho? he got traumatized so no, you can’t. he’s just afraid you’ll get in trouble as well.
— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun will definitely check on you every. damn. minute. he can’t find you? he’ll spam call you till you answer. you don’t answer his calls cause you’re out and can’t hear your phone? h’ell put on the gps in his car and come find you.
— 𐙚 at first you argued with him many times cause it became overwhelming. you basically couldn’t even go out with your old friend cause he’ll call you every 30 minutes and stuff. you didn’t want to get mad at him cause it wasn’t his fault, he just went through a lot and was worried for you.
— 𐙚 when you got mad, tho, you felt guilty not even a second later cause he looked at you with a sad and hurt expression and said: “i’m sorry. i just over worry and can’t stay calm when you’re out alone.”
— 𐙚 you’d tell him you understand but still you’re an independent woman and can defend yourself. (you’re lying cause deep down you like it when he worries a lot about you. but not in an obsessive/unhealthy way.). you will definitely cuddle him after that.
— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun never sleeps at night cause he feels the need to look after you while you sleep. he still feels like he’s in that room, keeping watch of bastards that could attack and kill you. if he manages to fall asleep, he’ll wake up in the middle of the night due to the nightmares. in those nights, you are the one who doesn’t sleep to look after him.
— 𐙚 he still loves to hug you from behind while you do stuff but also loves when you are the one to do so. he’s not as talkative as before so while old gi-hun would whisper loving sentences to you, present gi-hun just wants to feel the moment. he would bury his face into your neck and stay silent as you caress his hair and kiss it while he rubs your back and holds you tight.
— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun likes slow mornings. while in s1 he would go out to gamble/work and you would work too, now he likes to take his time to wake up to cuddle you, kiss you. just wants to enjoy his time with you, especially in weekends.
— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun would still take you out to late night walks/drives to relieve stress from both of you. his old manners of showing you his love are still the same: simple actions/gifts, physical touch etc.
。𖦹°‧ nsfw!:
season 1:
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 the first time you two made love was quite embarrassing for him cause he hadn’t touched a woman in years after his ex wife(that is something that every gi-hun fan thinks lol😭). he was really scared to hurt you or make you uncomfortable but once you reassure him he will make sure he’ll be the best sex you’ve ever had.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun will definitely cum really fast the first times cause he just can’t control himself with you. he doesn’t even make it on purpose but that man is able to cum in his pants by you just grinding on his lap.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun is the type of man that really doesn’t care about sex. he’s not a really “horny-guy” cause he thinks sex is not that important in a relationship but since he met you he gets hard often times and can’t control it.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun would think he’s not that good in bed but god, the way you moan his name or just moan in pleasure makes his ego reach the stars. he thinks he’s not that big but doesn’t realize that even common size (14/15cm) actually is.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun def talks you through it. would tell you how much you turn him on, would tell you how good you feel around him and would tell you how good you are for him. loves to praise you during it.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 i feel like he LOVES blowjobs. they make him feel so damn horny and he doesn’t know why himself. probably is the way your pretty, innocent eyes look at him while your lips are wrapped around his length, pleasuring him.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 gi-hun is clearly noisy. be prepared to hear him moan even if you just move your ass while sitting on his lap.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 forget about degrading names/praises. will def not call you a “whore, slut, pathetic” etc, not even if you ask him. he’s just not that kind of man and it makes him uncomfortable
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 once you’re done, even if he’s dead tired, he won’t get in bed before making sure you’re all cleaned and feeling as comfy as possible. you chuckle almost every time and tell him to just lay with you and that you’ll take a shower later.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 thinks he needs to be the big spoon cause he’s the “man of the relationship” but loves to be the small spoon as well. depends on who needs more cuddles after that. if he’s the big spoon, he’ll lay you on his chest, pull the blanket over your bodies and rub your skin, whisper loving words till you both fall asleep.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 if he’s the small spoon he’ll be the one to lay on your chest and shyly ask you to caress his head/play with his hair cause it relaxes him. you can’t help the cuteness so you just roughly grab his face and kiss him nonstop. you’ll apologize later and both end up chuckling. likes when you rub his bare back with the other hand as well. will fall asleep immediately cause your heartbeat helps him relax.
season 2:
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun would prefer blowjobs even more since he can’t sleep and is really tired most of times. he loves when you help him relax with that and loves it even more when you’re the one to initiate first cause he feels shy to just ask you to make him cum. thinks it’s inappropriate.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun loves lazy and slow sex (unless he had a really bad day), prefers when you ride him cause it’s hotter to see your breast bouncing and stuff. will grasp your waist/hips gently and guide you through it while he praises you.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 he may not be as noisy as before but will never stop praising you. he realized he loves it even more when you are the one to praise him. sentences like: “fuck, you’re so good, gi-hun” or “you make me feel so good” make him cum immediately.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will def ask you to do that again cause he LOVES to hear how good he makes you feel and how loved you feel even when your sex is not romantic and slow.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 if you’re not in the mood he’ll immediately pull away and apologize 5 times in a second cause he doesn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable in any way. you smile and reassure him and then promise him to do it later (if you’re in the mood ofc).
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will feel guilty cause he feels like he’s forcing you but you remind him that if you didn’t want to, you wouldn’t cause yes you love him with your whole being, but will never do something you feel uncomfortable with. especially if it’s related to intimacy.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 most of the times it will start by you massaging his shoulders cause they’re so tense. then you would start kissing his neck, make out and it will lead to bed.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will praise you with nicknames like: “such a good girl for me, hun.” or “you’re so tight, sweetheart.” if you call his name he would respond with: “yes m’am?” cause he’s such a gentleman and loves to respect his woman.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun also loves missionary cause he needs to look at your pretty face and all the cute and horny expressions you make when he makes you reach the stars. would definitely kiss your neck/jawline/cheeks while he praises you.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun enjoys every type of quickies. on the kitchen counter when you cook? definitely. in the shower? always. in the car after a long late night drive? sure, why not. in the dressing room when you go shopping? loves the risk.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 when you do quickies in public he’d cover your mouth with his big hand and loves the sight of it. the way you try to keep quiet, the way you close your eyes to focus on not being noisy, your flustered cheeks. it turns him on even more.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun thinks aftercare is the most important thing. probably like it even more than sex itself. he wants to be the big spoon always but when you manage to convince him to be the small one, he would act as if he could accidentally hurt you.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 you would play with his short hair and kiss his head while you tell him how good he made you feel cause he’ll ask you if you liked it. if you would tell him that something made you uncomfortable he probably won’t touch you in “that way” for weeks. to the point you’d ask him if he still loves you cause you think he got tired of you.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will look at you with an expression that clearly says “are you okay?” and then immediately reassure you and apologize for being a jerk.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 i feel like gi-hun hates porn and wouldn’t watch them not even if he got paid. thinks they’re too unrealistic and stupid. plus, he has you so what’s the point in watching other naked women having sex? not his thing, really hates it.
— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 doesn’t feel the need to jerk off when you’re not around, he’ll just wait till you come back if he needs it. would do that only if he’s desperate af.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ — a/n: soo here are few of my headcanons for this little cutie pie. idk if some of these are similar to others or something but if so, i’m so sorry, i didn’t copy anyone nor i inspired by anyone, i made them in my head based on my hc/scenarios😭 anyway i hope you enjoy reading this🥹
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lxxiezz · 1 month ago
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hihi I was wondering if you could write about a college student Reader and they're a workaholic and Shadow tries convincing them to drop the work and be clingy with him teehee 🤭
Sure hun! I'll cook something short up tho. And thank you so much for requesting this! <3
(Not proofread)
Fem!human!reader x Shadow the hedgehog
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It was a late Friday night, you were trying to finish the pile of college assignments, since you couldn't be bothered to do them on the weekend, so it felt more convenient to do them all at once right before the evening. You were too engrossed in writing an essay to notice Shadow entering your room as he stood next to where you sat at your desk, he cleared his throat to grab your attention, as you finished a sentence then turned to him.
"Yes?"
You shortly ask, waiting for him to say or ask whatever he needs, so you could get back to work.
"You've been at it for hours, (Name). And it's already almost 12 pm. It's time you stop whatever you're working on."
He demanded in a way, his voice dull as ever. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back in your seat before answering him.
"No, Shadow. I really want to get this done, so i don't have to do it on the weekend."
You say, looking down at him expecting his answer, but he says nothing, just closes your laptop and notebook, as you protest, but it falls on deaf ears, he grabs your wrist, dragging you out of your seat and towards your bed. For such a tiny little guy, he sure was strong; You'd think.
Once he wordlessly shoves you into your bed, he swiftly gets into his usual position next to you on his back and nudges your head to rest on his chest.
"Rest."
Is all he says as he looks at you. You grumble some curses under your breath and give in, relaxing in the cozy covers and on his fluffy, and oddly comfortale chest. His arm curls around your head as his hand rests on your head.
Shadow was a man of few words, but his actions speak more for him than words ever could.
You finally give in to the fatigue, silently thanking him for dragging you to bed.
"Goodnight, (Name)." Was the last thing you heard before you drift into a deep sleep, curled at his side comfortably.
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HI SORRY I KINDA DIDNT KNOW HOW TO WRITE THIS BUT I HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED!!! AGAIN THANK U SM FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST, ANON!
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burningembers91 · 1 month ago
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Help Wanted - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader
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Follow up piece to:
Back Alley Bar
Synopsis: When Seong Gi-Hun sees you struggling, he decides to step in
A/N: this storyline is becoming more angsty than I originally thought it would! A lot of my MC’s are happy go lucky people though, so it’s fun creating someone’s who’s just as flawed as the other characters.
You were late, so incredibly late. Between your full time day job, shifts at the bar, and your online university classes, you were burning the candle at both ends. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had more than 4 hours of sleep, and it was starting to catch up to you. Your shirt was inside out, a problem you’d only realised as you left the subway. You’d have to quickly change it in the bathroom before class, and hope your students and fellow teachers didn’t notice your absence.
You glanced down at your watch: only 6 minutes to make a 10 minute journey. You’d have to run to the school, which meant you’d turn up to work both sweaty and dressed incorrectly. Groaning internally, you picked up the pace, setting out into a steady jog. You hated running, it made you feel like your lungs were about to burst out of your chest. You were so busy mentally timing your journey that you didn’t notice the figure in front of you. Not until you collided full force with them, knocking you and the contents of your bag onto the pavement.
“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, your hands going straight to your throbbing nose. You looked up, ready to curse whoever it was that hadn’t moved out of your way, only to see Seong Gi-Hun standing over you.
“Are you alright?” He asked, bending forward to help you up. You nodded, checking there was no blood before scrambling to pick up your papers that were blowing lazily down the road.
Gi-Hun had always thought you’d been beautiful, but even he had to admit that you looked exhausted beyond measure. There was deep bags under your eyes, toothpaste in the corner of your mouth, and was your shirt inside out?
“Your shirt-“ he began, before you cut him off, your tone harsh.
“Yes,” you snapped, “my shirt is inside out.”You took the remaining papers from his hands, sighing as you rubbed your tired eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’m just really tired and really, really late for work.”
Gi-Hun held his hands up, stepping aside to let you rush past him. “I hope you have a good day!” He called after you, smiling as he watched your incorrectly worn shirt billow in the warm spring breeze.
He hadn’t been to the bar for a few weeks. Your words had really gotten to him, had made him stop and think. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life wallowing in his own pity? Drinking himself to death wouldn’t change what he’d done, nothing would take back the mistakes he’d made, nothing would bring back the people he’d lost. But if he didn’t do something soon, he’d waste away into nothingness. The morning after the conversation in your car, Gi-Hun threw away the bottle of whiskey he usually kept by his bed. He went out and looked for places advertising employment, willing to take on whatever work he could get. He missed seeing you though, missed listening to you talk when you thought he wasn’t listening. He’d never seen you in the daylight before, and you looked even more beautiful than you did in the dimly lit bar. But you looked so tired, so stressed. You’d done so much for Gi-Hun over the last few months; now it was time for him to return the favour.
That night, Gi-Hun returned to the bar. He didn’t drink, though he desperately wanted to. He just sat with you, keeping you company as you had done for him so many times. You looked exhausted, your eyes red rimmed and puffy. You didn’t talk much that night, too tired to form words. But Gi-Hun didn’t mind; he knew better than anyone that sometimes all you needed was a persons presence to stop you from going completely insane.
“Let me drive you home,” he said to you at the end of your shift.
“I’m fine, honestly,” you mumbled, fumbling with the keys as you locked the bar down for the night.
“Please,” he insisted. “It’s not safe for you to drive.”
You looked at him, closing your eyes as they burned with tiredness, before sighing.
“Fine.” Tossing him the keys, you slumped into the passenger side, secretly grateful for the help. If you’d had to drive home, you weren’t sure you’d have made it back in one piece.
You were both silent as the car wound through the city streets, lost in your own thoughts. Gi-Hun helped you upstairs with your bags, ladened down with student essays you needed to mark, and your own uni work that you hadn’t had time to complete. He wasn’t sure if he should stay for a while, to make sure you got in ok.
“Have you eaten?” He asked, desperate to prolong his time with you, even for a brief moment. Your stomach growled loudly in response, and you clutched at it.
“I guess I forgot to,” you mumbled, throwing yourself down on the couch which was littered with yet more paperwork.
“You need to eat,” he said, “let me make you something.” He dug around in the cupboards, finding a couple of packs of instant ramen to make while you got changed out of your work clothes. You returned a few moments later, makeup free and wearing a tiny pair of pyjama shorts. They accentuated the curves of your thighs and hips so perfectly, and Gi-Hun found himself unable to tear his eyes away. You looked so beautiful, but so fragile and broken.
Handing you the bowl of food, he turned to go. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, didn’t want to encroach on you when you clearly needed rest.
“Please don’t go.” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. You looked so small sitting on your sofa, the bowl of steaming ramen in your hands. “Please, can you just stay a while?”
You were so lonely at the minute, so utterly drained and exhausted. You just needed some company, needed someone to sit with you. And so Gi-Hun stayed. He sat with you while you ate, neither of you talking, but both of you having so much you wanted to say.
“Why do you do all this?” He asked eventually, looking at the mountains of paperwork all over your tiny living room.
“I made some bad choices when I was younger,” you sighed. “I met someone when I was really young. I thought he was a nice guy; he wasn’t. I took a job as a teacher because it was easy and brought money in. But as soon as I put money in the account, he would spend it.”
Your ex sounded like Gi-Hun, and it filled him with shame.
“Did he gamble?” He asked, wondering just alike the two of them were.
You shook your head. “Drugs and prostitutes, mostly,” you laughed bitterly. “It took me years to get the courage up to leave. And when I finally did I realised I’d wasted my life being with a man I hated, in a job I can’t stand. I thought by going back to university I could make myself better somehow. But I’m just really tired and I have nothing to show for it.”
A single, fat tear dropped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. You talked long into the night, fighting sleep so you could spend more time with the man who had shown you such kindness. When your eyes could no longer stay open, you crashed hard on the sofa, your head slumped on Gi-Hun’s shoulder.
He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare wake you from the sleep you desperately needed. So he stayed there all night, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. His hand tentatively stroked your back, soothing the troubled mumbles you uttered every now and again.
You’d been there for him when he needed someone, and now he’d be there for you. Life was tough for both of you, but you could help each other. Maybe together you could come out the other side. Maybe together you’d be ok.
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