#I don’t know. Is this even okay to post.

[paracosmicka]

Primal Fears AU content but don’t worry it’s still sonadow

That last one is a repost from last year so if you saw the silly drawings but then read the thing in the bottom left corner and went “wait what the fuck”

It’s because it was an AU thing but I literally only had that drawn out and now you get some context at least:

In this universe Sonic is an assassin/bounty hunter/whatever you wanna call a guy that is hired to specifically to kill other Entities. He meets Shadow when they run into each other because they’re both following the same Avatar. Then they do the normal canon sonadow thing where the first interaction they have always ends with them fighting and beating the shit out of each other. And then they kinda calm down but then Shadow has a similar moment from the beginning of the IDW Sonic comics where he gets absolutely pissed that Sonic managed to distract him from catching the bad guy and zooms away before the two have another chance to speak again.

Here Shadow is a GUN field agent except in this universe GUN isn’t really military and it’s more focused on not only investigating (like the Magnus Institute) but also actively dealing with the Entities. Which sounds great except remember how I said they aren’t military well actually they kinda are because “dealing” with Entities and Avatars just means: throw it in the high-security prison that is guarded by other various Avarars that all work for GUN because it means they don’t have to get thrown in prison. So GUN is kinda like The Magnus Institute + Section 31 working together. So actually I guess it’s like the SCP Foundation.

One day Shadow goes into work and Sonic and there and I’m not really sure on what I’m gonna do in the plot to make him end up there (like maybe he’s undercover and just using GUN to get to his next target or maybe GUN does the “hey we’re gonna throw you in jail if you don’t agree to work for us” idk again not sure yet) but now he’s working with Shadow because they still need to catch that Avatar.

So now we’re sorta caught up, they’re at Club Rouge (and I realized I didn’t specify which Entity she serves in my drawing of her but people who guessed the Stranger ding ding ding here have some sonadow) because Sonic and Shadow need to kinda interrogate Surge and Amy, who are associated with the Slaughter. They have a band called Poison Rose and it’s basically just Grifter’s Bone but they perform rock music instead. And are also probably dating.

Anyway the Big Case™️ Sonic and Shadow are working on is investigating a bunch of spooky murders and they’re pretty sure whoever’s behind them is a Slaughter avatar. But not specifically Amy and Surge☝️ They’re kinda “allowed” to perform the Music That Makes You Die because GUN also has like an “informant” group of avatars they can rely on. These avatars don’t work for GUN, but they agree to chill out on the spooky stuff if it means they don’t get arrested for spooky crimes. So for Poison Rose, “chilling out” on the spooky stuff means that they have to force people to wear earplugs while they perform, which wasn’t specifically stated in MAG 42 if that works or not, not really sure of the magic rules of the Music That Makes You Die phenomena but yeah they gotta do that and probably some other stuff so GUN doesn’t arrest them. Like maybe no swearing or something lol.

Okay gonna stop there before this gets even longer explaining my AU because this was supposed to be just a normal sketch post but whoops.

Oh also I made a playlist for the kind of music Poison Rose performs but it was made private because I didn’t want anyone to stumble across it and be like “pshhhh this dumb person who makes public playlists of their AU that no one knows about what a loser” (me when I make up completely unrealistic scenarios in my head) but now here’s a post explaining that part of my AU so that person can’t make fun of me anymore

[kaisentine]

“isn’t that sae’s shirt?”

rin stops dead in his tracks when he’s just been caught red-handed leaving his brother’s room with a shirt that isn’t his in hand, trying so hard to tip-toe back to his room. he turns his head slowly to look at you. “no. yes. maybe. why are you here?” he sighs in defeat.

“your parents let me in.” you shrug, crossing your arms in amusement at the sight. “you know he isn’t here, right?” your roll your eyes—of course you know he isn’t! he should know by now that you just like ‘breaking into’ their house until sae gets back from whatever.

a chuckle comes from you that makes him even more annoyed by the situation—he literally just wanted to steal his brother’s shirt for one day. “so?” you ask. “so my big bro isn’t here and you so shouldn’t be here.” he deadpans.

“. . . damn. chillax, rin! i’m not gonna snitch on you.” your eyes widen in surprise and now you’re the one raising your hands up in surrender.

but you’ve annoyed him for so long that he knows you way too well. “i know what you’re trying to do,” he clutches the shirt ( and rethinks his life choices—is one stupid shirt from his big bro worth whatever deal you’re going to bring up? ) “what do you want?”

you’re quite offended, you aren’t cruel! “i just wanted to know how the heck you and your brother have such nice eyelashes . . .” you pout.

for once, your request was pretty tame but his response wouldn’t be. “i don’t know! ask your guys’ future children or something.” dumbfounded, you find yourself scooping your jaw off the floor—when did your boyfriend’s little brother become this gremlin?

BONUS : sae is thoroughly concerned after seeing you spacing out while sitting on the chair in front his desk. “are you okay?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and when you don’t respond he starts waving a hand in front of your face. “hellooo?” all of a sudden, your head turns to look at him in a concerningly slow pace. “i asked rin how you guys have pretty eyelashes and he said to ask our future children.”

“and?” “. . . and rin has your shirt.”

sticky note. i haet next week already and it hasn’t even happened yet bruhhhh SORRY IN ADVANCE IF MY WORK IS POOPY AND IF I DON’T POST

[jemgirl86]

Okay. Listen. I want you to take off your “piece of shit Bucky stan” glasses for five seconds and be honest:

Did you really look at my post and think that I think that Anthony and Sebastian are married, or even the least bit romantically involved? Wait. Don’t answer that. First, did you really look at this post and think the joke was more about Anthony and Sebastian than it was about Sam and Bucky??? Did you truly look at this and say to yourself: “Oh my god, this lady thinks these two actors are married! I need to right this wrong! Immediately!”

Or. Orrrrrrrr. Did you look at this, and know that whoever posted it thinks their friendship is neat, and thought it would be fun and maybe funny to post this pic with that tweet, because you aren’t a toddler???

Look. I know this made you angry, and I also know it’s not because you didn’t get the joke. You got the joke. Even if you’re an idiot, you got the joke. Nobody is that dumb, not even you. You even admit that you know it’s “probably” a joke in your tags, so what’s your problem???

LOL That’s rhetorical. I know what your problem is - I peeped your user name and your profile pic, and I don’t need more than one guess to know why my post upset you so much

[transmutationisms]

Hey. So that claim that stimulants do completely different things for people who “have ADHD” and “don’t have ADHD” is obviously bullshit but I was wondering if you happen to have read anything I could refer to about that

Okay I want to try using this to break down how I would actually approach this type of question, inspired by some posts I've seen recently about how to read and analyse things that are wrong / bad / liberal.

I don't have, off the top of my head, a published & refereed source that discusses this particular claim. I'm pretty certain there is at least one such thing out there. But I'm also pretty confident it won't be very good. The claim it's responding to is relatively historically recent, & is cloaked in still-fashionable neurobiological terms. Also, the literature on ADHD is bad in general, and so is the general quality of the kinds of imaging studies that are cited to support such claims about 'brain differences.'

If I were writing a literature review or a historiography, here is the part where I would need to go find these things anyway. Then I would have to explain how they make their arguments and what's missing, and depending on the scope of the piece I might have to explain my own philosophical / political position, and advance my methodological critique of the literature I just spent several days finding & reading.

Fortunately I'm writing a tumblr post & my sense is your actual question is "how can I better argue against this obviously bullshit claim," so I don't have to do any of that. There's not really much point sinking that kind of time and effort into finding a source I already think is unlikely to adequately make the argument I'm looking for anyway.

Instead, I would now look at the claim itself. What must be true in order for it to hold?

ADHD brains differ from non-ADHD brains

This difference is relevant to the action/metabolism of stimulant drugs

Okay, claim two on that list requires dealing with psychopharmacology & very exact physiological mechanisms, which means a shitload more reading and most of it punishingly dry and technical. Sad & bad.

Fortunately, though, I already know -- from every reading ever, as well as my experience existing on earth -- that ADHD is not diagnosed by any sort of brain scan, anatomical observation, blood test, etc, but by subjective (yes, even if they made you do it on a computer) clinical observation. Hmm, that's super weird for something that is a 'brain difference.'

I also know that psychiatric categories are difficult to correlate with biological observations even where those observations do exist, because an imaging study on ADHD is necessarily only pulling the 'ADHD sample' from people already diagnosed with ADHD. It's circular. Philosophically this is the same problem I laid out in section one of 'What is an alien?' (which you can read & understand even if the main topic of the essay doesn't interest you).

And I also know that brain imaging studies generally are riddled with serious methodological flaws (post discusses the dead salmon study among others) and don't actually produce meaningful, replicable biological distinctions in any kind of correlation with psychiatric categories (also, variation within categories is also very high).

Oh, wait. Now the claim above looks like patent nonsense with zero philosophical foundations. The burden of proof is on whoever's making that claim, & the basic underlying principles are wrong. Yayyyy.

This exercise means 1) I've sat down and reasoned through my own opinion, giving me clarity on why I think what I do and what evidence would change my mind and 2) from now on, when I see someone else make the claim I'm responding to here, I'll know off the bat that they haven't done the same & are starting from a very credulous attitude toward very low-quality research. And I didn't do this by trawling the literature until I found the exact thing I was looking for, but by thinking through the arguments and evaluating a body of literature that is generally explicitly hostile to the kinds of critiques I make & respect.

[crowsofdarkness]

Bucky can’t sleep next to you anymore after the snap. But it’s okay. You’ll be okay.

CW’s below the cut(angst, swearing, mentions of cheating)

a/n: this was a request that was originally posted on my old blog.

The quiet, emptiness of the room had brought sadness throughout my bones as I turned over in bed, patting the space next to me. The sheets were cold, untouched. A broken sigh fell from my lips, knowing that he wasn’t coming to bed tonight; once again.

I weighed the options on my shoulders, debating if it would even be worth trying to fight with him.

I could stay in bed, like I had been every night this past week, and let him lay in his makeshift bed on the hard floor. It wasn’t comfortable but with the fights we had been having, I knew he would choose that over our bed.

Or.

I could walk into the living room, figure out what’s wrong with him and us, hoping it would bring him back to bed with me.

Finally deciding on the latter, I tossed the heavy comforter off my bare legs and trekked the short walk into the living room. He was laying on the floor, blankets and pillows scattered around him. My heart sank, knowing that there was a large sectional couch behind him, however he always chose to lay on the ground.

Ever since he came back from the snap, he wasn’t the same; our relationship wasn’t the same.

“Hey, Buck?” My voice was hushed, afraid he was asleep.

He looked over his shoulder, away from his book, and gave me a small smile. “Did I wake you?”

Immediately I shook my head. “No, well kind of. You know I hate waking up to an empty bed.”

His vibranium arm rested gently on his knee and his bare chest raised with a deep breath. I marveled at the way his skin glistened under the moonlight from the window.

“I’m sorry, doll. I can’t sleep on the bed. It’s too soft.”

I nodded, trying to mask the sadness I felt. Bucky slept in our bed for the first few months that we were back together but as our relationship strained, he started sleeping in the living room. He hadn't been able to recover from his past. Wakanda had been his only peace, our only peace, but when he was snapped away he lost on that time to find himself.

Post Winter Soldier.

We had been together for so long; since the 1940’s. I had been on the ship with Steve when it went into the ice, waking up together 70 years later.

Oh, Steve.

Bucky and I both had taken it extremely hard when Steve decided to go back in time, stay with Peggy Carter. We felt deserted, not good enough for Steve, after everything we had been through together.

He would say that he’s fine but I knew that Bucky was hurting inside, knowing that he lost his best friend.

But I was still here.

“What if we just lay in bed together, watch a movie?” I suggested.

Bucky hesitated. “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t want to keep you up.”

Nightmares; he was still having them and no matter what I did to help, they still had a vice grip on him.

Another reason on the list as to why he refused to sleep in the same bed with me.

With an annoyed sigh, I sat on the arm chair across from him and ran my hands over my bare thighs.

“Did I do something?” The tears brimmed at my eyes. “You don’t want to sleep in the same bed, you rarely look at me anymore, and I can’t remember the last time you touched me.”

“Doll,” Bucky breathed.

His fingers raised to touch my hand but when he hesitated, my heart broke.

“Are we going to make this work or am I going to get hurt?” I choked out a sob.

After almost six months dealing with Bucky distancing himself from me, I needed to know if this was the end. I wouldn’t allow myself to continue to be strung along. I understood that he had been dealing with some things, even seeking therapy, but that wasn’t a reason to shut me out.

“I’m trying, Y/N. It’s been tough trying to adjust,” Bucky spoke.

“What about me? I watched you get dusted in my hands and spent five years on my own, trying to find a way to bring you back.”

Bucky sighed. “I know.”

“Do you?” I stood with anger. “Because when was the last time you asked how I was doing?”

He was silent, giving me my answer.

I hastily wiped the tears from my cheeks and let out a shaky breath. “Every day goes by without a touch or even a kiss from you fucking kills me, Buck. I can’t help but think of a future world where we don’t collide and it makes me sick.”

Bucky was on his feet now, running a hand over his tired face. “I’m trying, Y/N. I want to be with you, build our future, but there’s some things I can’t get over.”

My eyes sliced into him, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “You were gone for five fucking years, Bucky. Steve was there and I apologized over and over again. How many more times do I have too?”

His shoulders went rigid with his own anger. “You fucked Steve. It's not something I can easily get over.”

I knew that if I continued to be angry, this fight would never end. It was the same thing every few days and honestly, I was exhausted.

“Look, if you want to leave, I’ll make it easy. The door is behind you. It will hurt like hell to lose you, Bucky, after everything we have been through. But I’ll be okay.”

Bucky stuffed his hands in his sweat shorts, giving me a shrug. “Our future is fading to black, Y/N. I’m trying to save it but it’s getting harder to hold on.”

My eyes were red and puffy, broken sobs echoing throughout our apartment. My heart was once full of love for him but now it was shattered into pieces, pooling at the pits of my stomach. The tape didn’t work and the glue only made it worse, maybe it was time to let it stay broken.

Letting out a deep, shaky breath, I gave him a strong nod. “I’m not going to keep you if you don’t want to stay, Bucky. I love you so much. I understand that I hurt you when I slept with Steve and I know it’s stupid of me to think that you’d forgive me. I only hoped that your love for me was enough.”

Bucky reached for my hands, his vibranium fingers cooling my heated skin. “I love you too, doll. I just need some time to adjust to everything.”

“I can’t wait forever, Bucky. I need to know if you’re going to leave so I can prepare myself for the heartbreak.”

When he remained silent, a sense of unsureness on his soft features, I finally gave in and nodded.

“When you decide on what you need, I’ll be here. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. Just know that I will never stop loving you and eventually, I’ll be okay.. But if you decide to stay, to fight for us and work for our future, you know where I’ll be.``

A soft kiss was placed on his lips, one that he had returned with some short of fire behind. It wasn’t how we used to kiss pre snap but I could feel some kind of love.

Turning my back to him, I walked back into our bedroom and crawled into bed. The heavy blanket calmed my body as I sobbed out for my losing love. Through my cries, I tried to listen for Bucky and what his decision was. His footsteps that bounced off the walls slowly started to fill the empty hole in my heart.

[deadpanjisung]

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡  ult ♡ˎˊ˗ ༚ ✧ ˳⁺⁎

pairing: seo changbin x afab!reader 

MDNI!!!

wc: 5.6k

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆..。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆..:・°

general cw: swearing, smut!!, fluff, cats, allergies, a lil humor, use of y/n.

smut cw: making-out, descriptive sex, changbin is a simp, teasing, unprotected sex (pls don’t), mentions of oral sex, cre4mpie.

a/n: this was supposed to be a Valentine's Day fic but i couldn't find the mood to post it till now. feedback is encouraged ◡̈

i hope you enjoy♡

-˚₊‧꒰ა ginny ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・

Copyright Ⓒ 2025 by deadpanjisung

All rights reserved. Translating, Reposting or any type of appropriation is not permitted.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

You were sitting at your usual meeting spot, feeling the cold, metal park bench against your exposed thighs. It was later than your usual meeting time, the lamp posts illuminated you and the passing families on their way to the philharmonic performance. You debated meeting him at the stage instead, but it felt wrong to you. This bench had been your meeting point ever since you met Seo Changbin while sitting on it more than a decade ago. Changbin was very different to you, he was a natural charmer, undoubtedly a born performer. You always shied away from being the center of attention (“my quiet little mouse” Changbin remarked).

You were sitting on that same bench when Changbin sat next to you and asked if you were okay. Then, he asked why you were alone. He talked your ear off that afternoon. You were still in high school by then, he talked about his training to be an idol, his family, his friends. You listened attentively; it was strange for you to meet someone your age who had such a busy lifestyle. Your sister went to find you when it got too late, and you still hadn’t arrived at your house. Changbin waved you off with a quick, “nice to meet you!”. 

You returned the next afternoon and to your surprise, Changbin was already sitting there (“Ah! I’m glad you came back! I forgot to ask if you wanted to hang out again. You looked comfortable here yesterday, so I figured I’d come back.” He said with a smile). You were even more surprised at the fact that he wanted to see you again. You gave him your number and agreed to meet there thrice a week after school and between his practices. It took you a while to open up, you weren’t used to feeling seen or heard by someone. But Changbin knew how you felt with just a look.

Your meetings at the bench became more limited after he debuted. Being reduced from thrice a week, to once a week, to once a month to once every few months, to once a year, if you were lucky. You and Changbin still texted occasionally, and even more rarely called each other for your birthdays or other important events. Changbin was there for you through your biggest achievements and your biggest losses, and you were there for his, even at a distance. It had been two years since you last saw Changbin, your schedules hadn’t lined up for you to meet. You were shocked when he asked you to meet over the summer, when he had some time off to stay with his family. 

“HEY, Y/N!” He shouted, sprinting over when he spotted you. You stood up and extended your arms with a blush rising on your cheeks. He hugged you tightly, lifting you up and spinning you around, placing a sweet kiss on your head.

“I think this is the second happiest time I’ve been to see you here.” He said as he lowered you down to your feet. 

“Oh really? When was the first?” You asked as he sat down on the bench.

“The second time I saw you here, when I didn’t even have your number or know where you lived or studied or if I’d see you again!” He remarked, you smiled at that and signaled him to get up.

“I was shocked when you came back that day.” You said and you started walking next to each other. “I missed you, Bin. How have you been?” You took a second to look at him, the same light posts you had seen many times before illuminating his features. It seemed to you that he was bulking up, his hair was dyed a dark purple color, he was dressed in all black as you expected him to be. 

“‘M good! Tired but it’s been nice.” He replied. “And you? I love that skirt on you! It’s so cute, you almost looked like an idol.” You blushed at that comment. It was a blue floral summer set, different from your usual attire.

“Ah, thank you. Well, I’ve been better, if I’m being honest.” You said, looking at the floor in front of you. “Work has nearly been killing me so I’m glad to have some time off this summer.” 

“I’ll make sure you rest well. I can take care of you.” He said, proudly. “I take care of my members all the time now. I’m their favorite chef.”

“Oh? You are?” You asked in disbelief. He looked away, embarrassed. Changbin placed a facemask over his mouth and nose.

“WHAT?  You don’t believe me? Well, okay…. maybe I’m their second favorite chef…” He mumbled; you chuckled. You looked in front of you to see the stage already full of people. You walked the rest of the way in silence and stood in the far back to avoid drawing attention to yourself. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “I missed being here with you. I love you, Y/N-nnie.” 

“Me too, Bin. It’s been a while. I’m happy to see you looking so healthy.” He smiled at that comment, you knew Changbin took a lot of pride in taking care of himself. 

The performance started, you and Changbin didn’t speak again until it was over. 

“Did you walk here?” He asked. You nodded. Your family’s house was close to the park and your apartment was even closer. “Can I drive you back?” You nodded again. “I know it’s late but, are you hungry?” He knew you had a habit of skipping dinner when you had plans.

“Just a little… I ate before coming.” you replied. 

“My sister recommended a stand that makes good tteokkochi at the end of the street. We can walk by it and I’ll take you home.” He spoke. You nodded.

“How was the tour?” You asked. He started talking about the places he went to, the songs they played, how he got sick once and had to skip a performance, how he went to a concert on one of their free days, The songs they worked on, how Seungmin made him angry one day and he had to apologize for lashing out…

You arrived at the stand, it looked a bit run down but an auntie was making and serving the tteokkochi, so you knew it would be good. She asked you what you wanted, you both got two servings.

Changbin insisted on paying for the food, taking out the precise amount before you could protest. You rolled your eyes, but it usually went like that. Changbin would never let you pay despite your insisting. You often repaid him by delivering food to his studio sessions when you were close by.

He walked next to you in comfortable silence. During the decade that you’ve known each other, you have met hundreds of times at this same park, and you talked each other’s ears off. Nonetheless, you also learned to feel equally pleasant in moments of silence. The streets were illuminated mostly by different shop’s led lights. You looked at your feet as you walked while Changbin looked at you. 

“Do I have something on my face?” You asked and giggled. Changbin’s face reddened. He nervously laughed.

“No, you don’t.” He answered. “I’m realizing that I’ve missed you a lot.” It was your turn to blush. 

“Me too, Bin. This is the longest we’ve been without seeing each other, I think.”

“And way too long. I should take more time off.” He added. 

“So, my sister just had a baby. He’s about as old as your nephew.” You said, as you walked forward, spotting Changbin’s car in the distance. 

“Really? Congrats, auntie!” He exclaimed. 

“Shut up! I’m not that old yet!” You protested, he gave a hearty laugh as he took his keys out of his pockets to unlock his car. 

You slipped in the passenger seat of his sports car, wondering why someone would have a car this low. He smiled when he saw you struggling. 

“I forgot you don’t like sports cars.”

“I absolutely despise them.” You agreed. There was silence, the sounds of the night where barely noticeable; the faint music coming from the radio was almost identifiable. 

“So, are you still seeing that guy? The French guy that worked at the hospital.” He asked, nonchalantly when he drove off.

“Louis?” You corrected him. “No. He moved back to France last year when he finished his residency.” You shrugged it off. You and Changbin rarely spoke about your flings unless they were serious. He had casually met Louis the last time you saw each other when you ran into him at the park. 

“Are you still seeing the makeup artist?” You asked, he shook his head. 

This was the first time in the last five years or so that you and Changbin had both been single at the same time. You felt nervous, like your heart was dropping. You had always had a bit of a crush on him, but you were sure that he never reciprocated your feelings. You tried burying your crush for him, but it wasn’t as easy when you were right next to him. You felt your palms get sweaty as he pulled up at your place.

“Hey… Can I come in?” He asked suddenly, making you snap out of your thoughts.

“Yeah.” You smiled, “It’s a bit messy, but I was going to ask you anyways.” He smiled at that. You hadn’t openly planned to see him again during the summer. You feared having such a short meeting after two years without seeing him. 

He opened the car door for you, you didn’t expect anything less from Seo Changbin, professional gentleman. Changbin had an extra key to your house, as your closest friend. Nonetheless, he had never used it to let himself in.

You walked up to the front door with your best friend close behind you, hands buried in his jean’s pockets. Your hands trembled as you unlocked your old-fashioned door. You stepped in; suddenly conscious of the empty glass of water on your counter, the coat you discarded on the floor, the mess of books on your coffee table, the scattered toys your cat left. Did you take out the trash before you left? Did you clean the litter box? Where is Alfred? Will Changbin be deathly allergic to him? Why did you forget to mention you had a cat?

He stepped in behind you and took in your house, feeling coziness and a twitch in his nose.

“Ah, Binnie, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you that I have a cat now! Do you want something for your allergies?” You asked.

“Yeh. Weren’t you more of a dog person, though?” He replied. “Where’s the little fella anyways?” You walked towards your medicine cabinet and took out a generic allergy pill for him.

“I love dogs too.” You answered. “My sister found Alfred in front of her office and asked if I could foster him because she was super pregnant at the time… and after, like, a day I fell in love with him.” He laughed.

“You’re always so sensible. That’s probably my favorite part of…” He interrupted himself by chugging down the pill with a glass of water. You blushed and you spotted Alfred apprehensively approaching the kitchen. The bright, long-haired orange kitty stood out amongst your darker furniture and decoration. 

“There he is! He’s shy at first so don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you calling me out for being loud?” He asked and chuckled but kept down his voice to your request. You tried to approach Alfred, but he ran away to his favorite hiding place, inside the hallway closet. “Is he scared of me?” Changbin’s demeanor changed, looking almost disappointed. 

“Cats are pretty different from dogs, so he probably is scared of you, but to no fault of your own.” You answered. “You’ll win him over by giving him some space.”

“Ah, even better. You know I’m scared of the cats anyways.” He said and sinking down onto your familiar sofa. “So, how have you been?”

“I’m okay, I think… I think I had told you last time, but I work at a different library now, you know, the one that’s inside the University...” You spoke.

“I remember you telling me that you changed jobs, but I don’t think you told me it was at the university library.”

“Ah, well, yeah. I’m the director now…. But I started when I still didn’t have my master’s.” You added.

“Right! You graduated last year, right?” He asked, raising his voice a little bit. You nodded. He reached into his bag and took out a small, black pull-on pouch. “I saw Han Jisung wearing one of these and I asked him to get you one… It’s not much, but it reminded me of you.” He placed the small bag on the couch, in between you two. You opened the bag to see a box with the writing ‘Vivienne Westwood’ on it.

“You didn’t!” You exclaimed. He smiled, feeling more confident after that. You opened the box to see a collar with black beading and the characteristic Vivienne Westwood pendant. “Thank you. This must’ve costed you a fortune, you didn’t have to get me something so expensive… I appreciate anything you do for me.” 

“I know. But I also know that you’ve been eyeing one of these for years.” He replied. “I’d get everything I could for my closest, bestest friend.” You blushed.

“Ah, Binnie. I appreciate this so much. But I could never ever repay this…”

“I never expect you to repay anything to me.” Changbin interrupted. “Your friendship is way more valuable to me than any silly material thing I’ll ever give to you. This is just a teeny tiny gift for all you’ve done for me.”

“Bin…” You said. “I feel bad for not having anything for you.”

“How about a big warm hug, then?” He negotiated. 

You complied and wrapped your arms around Changbin’s neck. He wrapped his warm arms around your waist. The position was a bit awkward, since you were both sitting down but you felt comfortable. Your heart was beating faster than usual, with his familiar warmth calmed you down. You felt his big, warm hands on your back where your shirt rose up. His palms were sweaty against your skin. The hug lasted more than you expected, the light smell of his perfume was nice and comforting to you. His chest was soft against yours and he gently caressed your back with his calloused hands. He placed a soft kiss on the shoulder his head rested on, which brought goosebumps to your skin. He surely felt them on your back because he stopped caressing it. 

His breath briefly ghosted on your neck as he pulled away from the hug. You let go of him and took your time pulling away. His eyes met yours as you both leaned back. You felt butterflies in your stomach for the first time in years. Changbin nervously chuckled and he slouched on the couch, sighing. 

“Y/N?” His voice was barely a whisper, opposed to his usual loud self. “Have you ever thought about… kissing… me? Forget I said anything, I’m crazy!” He cut himself off. The question took you aback, you didn’t expect such a direct interrogation. 

“It depends…” You decided to tease him. “Have you ever thought about kissing me? Am I really that unappealing that you think you’re crazy for thinking that?” 

“No! You’re amazing, the best. You’re my favorite person in this whole world. I think about kissing you all the time.” He confessed with a crimson blush on his cheek. 

“Okay. Good.” You said. “I think about kissing you all the time as well.” 

“R-really?” He asked, eyes wide in disbelief. 

“Well, duh. You’re an absolute dreamboat.” You replied. His shyness turned into a smirk. “Sweet, talented and cute, too? I’d be dumb not to want to kiss you.”

“Stop it! You’re making me melt!” He shouted. “You’re so pretty, so smart… You’re my best friend. You know…”

“Just best friend?” You asked.

“No, Y/N. Not just my best friend. I like you a lot.” He replied sweetly, averting your gaze. You reached for his hand. 

“Hey. I really like you, Bin.” You added, he looked into your eyes again. 

“Yeah?” He smirked, maintaining eye-contact with you. His brown eyes were glossy.

“Yeah.” You replied and leaned towards him. Changbin met you in the middle and pressed his lips on yours. 

His beautiful doll lips were soft against your, admittedly, chapped ones. You were sure that your matte lipstick made your lips feel weird, but you didn’t mind. Changbin rested his warm hand against your left cheek. He lightly caressed your cheek as the kiss deepened. His taste was bitter, you could make out that he drunk a beer before meeting with you. He broke the kiss. 

“I planned to tell you tonight, by the way.” He commented. “But I was really nervous…”

“Bin… How could I not have feelings for you?” You remarked. “You were always ‘the one that got away’ for me. I kinda had no hope that you actually liked me back.” He chuckled.

“We sound like teenagers, don’t we?”

“We do. It’s weird how we went from casually saying ‘I love you’ to barely being able to say ‘I like you’.” You said in between laughs. He giggled. 

“It is so weird.” 

“I love you and I like you too.”  You said. “I’ll always love you as my best friend in the universe.”

“I think it’s safe to say that I’ll always love you too.” He added. “And that I really like you too.”

He leaned into you and softly presses his lips on yours for a quick peck. 

“So…” 

So…?”

You grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him again. This time harder and deeper. He kissed you back and placed his hands on your waist. He used his hand placement to guide you to sit on his lap. He moaned into the kiss when he felt your body against his. Changbin kept his hands on your waist, sliding them up and down your plush sides. You experimentally ground your hips against his crotch. You could feel his growing erection even through the heavy material of his jeans. You gasped into the kiss when Changbin when he grabbed at your waist. 

“This feels surreal.” He said, looking straight into your eyes. “My heart is beating so fast.”

“Oh, Binnie… I am so lucky to have you in my life.”

He moaned into your mouth as you kept grinding your hips against his. Changbin’s jeans felt heavenly against your thin underwear. Changbin thrusted upwards to meet your hips while his lips captured yours in a passionate kiss. He moved his hands under your skirt, looking at you in search of approval. You nodded. You felt his hands cup your almost-bare ass, since your panties had ridden up from the grinding. You moaned at the feeling of his familiar touch in such an unfamiliar place. He squeezed your ass, encouraging you to keep grinding on him. You quickened your pace and Changbin let out a hearty grunt. 

“O-oh… Oh... b-baby, I need you to stop.” He whined. “I need you to stop or I’ll cum. I want to be inside you, baby. I … can’t.” You obliged, halting your movements. Changbin pressed his forehead against yours, sweaty and panting. “Thank you, darling.” You blushed, taking in the absolute vision in front of you.

Changbin looked beautiful like this, so raw, so messy. Unlike how you usually saw him lately: with his hair full of hairspray and a face full of makeup. He had his face bare; his lips were swollen and his hair was curling up from the sweat and humidity. 

“Is everything okay?” He interrupted your thoughts. You nodded, making him sigh in relief. “Good. I thought you were regretting it already.” You chuckled.

“As if! You’re stuck with me now, sorry.” You replied.

“Sorry? That’s like a dream come true, baby.” He placed a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“You’re making me blush so bad, Bin. I feel like a schoolgirl again.” You remarked. “Like when we met, I was so giggly and dumb.”

“Are you kidding? I could barely get a reaction from you at first! It took like ten minutes for you to laugh!” He disagreed.

“I couldn’t let my guard down that easily.” You said, he placed a kiss on your shoulder. “Bin?”

“Hm?”

“I love that we’re reminiscing and all. But I’m, like, super wet…”

“Oh!”

“Yeah…”

“Your wish is my command, darling.” He said, “To be fair. I’m hard as fuck, too.” You chuckled.

You stood up and extended your hand to him, he took it and stumbled as he stood up. You led him into your bedroom, not missing Alfred’s scrambling from inside your closet. Changbin sneezed as he walked by. Your heart fell a little bit, you can’t really imagine life without Changbin or Alfred. Could they eventually co-exist?

“Hey.” He said, looking at you. You stopped in front of your room to stare at the closet where Alfred spent most of his time at. “I know what you’re thinking. I don’t really like cats but, I’ll try super hard with him! I promise. Minho hyung taught me about exposure to reduce my allergies. I guess I’ll have to meet his cats when I’m away from here so I can build up my strength!”

“Thanks, Bin. That means a lot to me.” You said with a sigh of relief. “You’re really sweet.”

“Of course! I know you, you love him, so I’ll love him too. Even if I must get scratched and drink ten allergy pills every time I come here. You know I love a challenge.”

“Shhhh! You’ll make me cry.” 

“Okay, okay! Let’s get sexy again.”

You chuckled as he took the lead to open your room’s door. Your room was cozy, the bed was well made and adorned with different pillows. There were three bookcases filled with books of all types of genres. Changbin had never been in your room before, limiting his visits to your kitchen and living room. You had a rosemary odor eliminator that attempted to cover the old book smell that wasn’t too appealing to your own allergies. You crouched down to grab a book that, seemingly, Alfred knocked down. 

“Sorry in advance for the upcoming messes you’ll see. Alfred loves throwing things on the floor.” You said, he chuckled, smitten to be able to see such an intimate side of you. Your bedroom. You had a chair next to one of your bookshelves, a reading nook, he supposed. 

“C’mon! Did you ever visit the 3Racha dorm?” He asked. “My dorm is only presentable now because Hyunjin cares about aesthetics or whatever. You’ll have to come visit us soon. Hyunjin asks me about you every other day.”

You smiled. You loved the fact that Changbin was already planning for you to spend time with him back at his place. You had only been able to visit him a handful of times when he lived at his old dorm. You visited Changbin whenever his group had a concert or fanmeet in Korea. Nonetheless, the last two years of your grad school life wouldn’t let you see him. 

“Okay. I said sexy time, right? That’s not too sexy.” He remarked with a smirk. You chuckled. 

“Okay! Let’s concentrate. We can do this!” 

He laughed. You still wanted him, of course you did. But you were so enamored with the idea of starting a new relationship with someone you had liked for such a long time that it made the sex shift to a second place. You had a feeling that he was going through something similar. You laid down on your bed and he followed your suit. You shifted to your side and looked over at him. 

He leaned over to you and kissed you once again. You deepened the kiss and took your chance to tug at his shirt. He took it off, in silent agreement. You nearly drooled when you saw his bare chest. His muscles were defined, yet soft. His shoulders looked even broader with his shirt off, his pecks were big and defined. His abdomen was strong, with a trail of hair that led to his pants. 

“Like what you see?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you. You nodded, unable to come up with a snarky comment. “Can I?” He placed his hands on your own top. You nodded again. Changbin swiftly took your top off with your assistance. He gawked at how your breasts sat in your bra. 

“You’re staring.” You snarked. 

“How can I not? Have you any idea how much I’ve waited to see your boobs?” He said, making grabby hands at them. You chuckled and took his hands in yours, leading them to feel your breasts. His hands were warm and clammy against the skin that spilled from your bra. 

Your nipples were hard against the thin, silky fabric of your bra. You were sure that he could feel them, when he started caressing them specifically. You reached behind you to unclasp your bra. Changbin looked almost cross-eyed when he first saw your bare chest.

He took no time in leaning forward, capturing one of your hard buds in his mouth. You moaned at the feeling of his hot lips around your cold nipple. He moaned around your nipple, and you felt your wetness spread through your folds. Your panties were completely soaked when he reached to stimulate your other nipple, tugging it harshly.

You moaned at his touch. Your body felt ablaze against his touch. He leaned forward without separating from your breast. You laid on your back as he hovered above your figure. His free hand reached under your skirt to caress your inner thighs. 

His digits found their way to press against your wetness. His lips shifted from one of your breasts to the other, sucking dark marks into them. He slipped his calloused fingers into you, slow and softly. Your body melted into his touch, accepting the foreign feeling of his fingers inside of you. You moaned at the feeling, unable to suppress your moans. 

“Do you like that, darling? Am I making you feel good?” He praised, his voice was raspy and breathless. You responded with a gasp. His lips found yours and you, once again, moaned into the kiss. You felt him smile against you. Changbin quickened the pace that his fingers, slipping in and out of you. The stretch of his fingers inside of you made you moan hard. Changbin stopped and checked up on you. You gave him a thumbs up.

“B-Binnie, d-don’t stop, please. I’m so unbelievably close.” You pleaded; he didn’t move. He had a thoughtful expression.

“Sorry, baby.” He said as he slid his fingers out of you. “You’re only cumming around me tonight. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” Butterflies eroded in your stomach when you heard him. “Is that okay?” You nodded quickly, tugging at the waistband of his dark jeans. 

He obliged, undoing the button and zipper that held them together. You didn’t pay mind at his underwear as he slipped them off swiftly. He smirked at your reaction. You gawked at his dick; it was thick, veiny and very, painfully hard. Your fingers danced against it, and it twitched in response, leaking a generous amount of pre-cum. You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue for him. He shook his head.

“I won’t last a second if I go there.” He said. Changbin reached over to his jeans and took out his wallet. “Ah, Y/N-nnie… I forgot, I kind of… gave my last condom to Jeongin-ah… as a joke.” He blushed. 

“Let me see if I have any.” You spoke. You turned over to dig inside your night table. “Shit. I gave the ones I had here to a friend because they were about to expire…”

“Fuck.”

“I mean…” You said as you slammed the drawer. “I’m clean and I drink birth control as a, uh, habitual thing…” 

“Are you suggesting that I go in raw?” He asked, you nodded.

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course.” You added. He stared at your pussy for a second, caressing its folds. 

“Okay, yeah. Fuck it. I’ll just pull out.” He said, grabbing his dick with his free hand. You laid back down. He positioned his dick against your sticky folds, dragging his angry head against your puffy clit. You whined at the feelings of his pre-cum on your own wetness.

“Baby. I want you inside.” You begged. “At least let me suck your cock.” He shook his head once again, instead positioning his hard member at your entrance. He gathered your wetness, not that he needed to.

He realized how truly drenched you were when he started sliding into you. Even with his impressive girth, his cock slipped in with ease and eagerness. You both groaned at the unexpected feeling. He bottommed out inside of you, the foreign feeling incited him to whisper sweet nothings in your ear in between kisses.

He took his sweet time to adjust to your tightness, you clenched your hips in order to feel some friction. He was holding his weight with his arms on each side your your head. Taking his time to enjoy your expressions as well, even forgetting that he has to thrust to feel maximum pleasure.

Changbin was never good at multi-tasking, but this time, he felt nirvana just by being inside of you. A feeling so strange, so lovely and so mesmerizing. He felt unable to move, he wanted to remain inside you for eternity. You squirmed underneath him and he, involuntarily, thrusted harshly. He earned a sweet, sultry moan from you. He was sure that listening to you moan is his favorite sound.

“B-bin. Please move, baby. I’m going to cum if you don’t.” You cried. He started thrusting, softly; he didn’t want to hurt you. Your head already felt fuzzy, full of Changbin. What a beautiful timeline, one that you and Changbin loved each other. You felt unbelievably close to him, the closest you’ve ever been to anyone in your life. 

“F-fuck, darling You’re taking me so well. You’re really soaked, my baby.” He panted against your ear, his hot breath made you shiver. “Have you been waiting for me for long?” It didn’t seem like a question to you, more like an affirmation to himself. “You’re my gorgeous angel. I’m never letting you go, you do know… fuck...” You moaned against his lips, capturing them in a heated kiss. You felt dizziness, knowing that your climax was impending. 

“B-bin. Binnie. Changbin.”

“Yeah.” He moaned. “Say my name, baby!”

“Binnie! I’m going to cum.”

“F-fuck! Me too. Can I cum inside you? I promise it’ll be the last time.”

You nodded fervently; the heat of the moment took the best of you. He thrusted deeper and faster, as he came over the edge, spilling thick, hot ropes of his seed in the depths of your core, of your soul.

You rubbed your clit, but feeling Changbin’s ardent cum inside you was more than enough to take you over the edge as well. You spasmed against him, your vision blurry and your orgasm lasting more than usual. Once you rode your orgasm, Changbin carefully slipped out of you and laid down next to you.

“Are you my girlfriend now, by the way?” He asked with a laugh, panting as he caught his breath. He looked at you expectantly. 

“Are you asking me?”

“I don’t know if it’s too soon, but yeah.”

“Hm...” You pondered. “If we didn’t know each other like we do, I think it would be too soon.”

He stayed silent.

“In other words: yeah, I’m your girlfriend.” You confirmed. He gave you a sheepish smirk.

“Han Jisung is not going to believe this.” He sang. You looked at him, confused. “He’s been wanting to ask you out for, like, ever.”

“Oh, nice. I know who I can go to if we break up, then.” You joked. He groaned. 

“Baby! That’s not funny at all!” He whined but laughed.

“I’m just kidding, Bin. Do you know who’s cum is inside me right now?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me or I’ll get hard again! What an artwork.” He said, pressing his head into your neck. “I have no self-control around you.” You snickered. 

“Trust me, me neither.”

“Ah, Y/N-nnie. I hope you don’t regret this.”

“I won’t.”

That was all the reassurance he needed. Changbin carried you to the bathroom and helped you wash up. He kissed you good night and prayed that what you had would last forever. He felt a sense of completion, like he needed to thank the universe for this moment. Changbin held you all night, though he could barely sleep. 

You woke up early in the morning, with an empty space beside you. You rubbed your eyes and hesitantly made your way out of the room. You could smell eggs and onions and rice. Changbin was serving an omelette with rice for you.

“Ah! wakey wakey, baby! I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed!” Changbin shouted. You smiled at him.

“This is even better.” You said, in all honestly. You noticed that Alfred was standing closer to Changbin today.

“Who would’ve known that feeding him would make him like me!” Changbin added. You chuckled.

“Binnie, I missed you too much.” You walked over him. 

He placed a kiss on your lips, softly, and you felt the universe. 

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・

Copyright Ⓒ 2025 by deadpanjisung

All rights reserved. Translating, Reposting or any type of appropriation is not permitted.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

[saetiate]

cora sleep now zzz

[coyle-and-co]

franco did always have such a mouth on him

au ramble beneath the cut because it’s my blog and i get to post what i want (it’s super long)

if ! you have noticed there are two versions of dolly that i draw, one with the gas mask and long, shaggy hair and one without and more refined

that’s because i have two separate aus for my ocs !! Howler and Gas mask Dolly are post!murkoff, which takes place with in the canon of outlast trials so not very exciting i know

pre!murkoff is where i get DEVIOUS because i am incredibly attached to pre!m Dolly HAHA

Pre!Murkoff dolly is a washed up speakeasy jazz singer preforming at one of the many casinos owned under Franco’s “business”, not like Dolly’s aware of who Franco really is outside of his moniker of “il Bambino”. He knows of him, knows his reputation but he’s never seen him before and doesn’t really give a shit about him as far as he’s concerned

However…! One night franco actually happens to be there at the same time as Dolly preforming, and he gets all googoo eyed because in his mind there’s a really pretty broad up on stage singing the blues to him, it’s not love at first sigh because all Franco wants to do his have Dolly put his heel through his throat

Of course, Franco can’t do anything normally and gets a bit pushy about getting dinner, and Dolly’s broke so thinks he could just steal his wallet or flirt him into paying his rent. Franco is unaware that he’s on a date with a dude, and is just happy someone seems interested

Franco does eventually find out Dolly’s not female and he’s mad about it but mostly that he didn’t figure it out. Despite the fact they can’t actually stand each other most of the time they’ve grown so used to being in each others presence that they don’t like being apart

Salvatore comes to visit Franco, since in this AU they do have connect it’s just minimal. Basically he got wind Franco’s been seen with the same “woman” (hah) repeatedly. Franco rightfully panics because oh my god what if his father finds out he’s seeing Dolly? What if he finds out Dolly’s a man? Franco blurts out that they’re getting married that’s why, and Sal just looks at him like he doesn’t believe him and tells Franco he pities Dolly

Franco convinces Dolly to actually marry him, but there’s no wedding, no reception, just a trip to the courthouse to sign a few documents. They’re legally married, and they hate each other

because i hate allowing gay people to be happy they do not say “i love you”, they argue day in and day out over things that wouldn’t matter, Dolly throws Franco out more times than he can count. But they know every fine detail about each other’s behavior and lives. Dolly even fully accepts Franco’s manchild-ness, though he does get disgruntled at times

Eventually it all leads to one massive argument and Franco calls things off and storms out, because we’ll, they don’t love each other, but those few days apart suck was and they can’t be away for long. Franco goes back to Dolly’s rundown apartment and lets himself in since he never did change the locks.

Dollys got no make up on, curled up in bed tear stained, and ends up sobbing at Franco about how he genuinely does care for him, can’t picture spending his life with someone else, how he wants to grow old together - but he doesn’t say i love you (they never do they both die and never utter i love you)

Franco blue screens for a bit but it does help their relationship at least somewhat

okay ramble over if u read all of this ily mwa mwa

[ddlydevotion]

HE'S VENUS AS A BOY ⊹˚₊･

boyfriend! hamzah x fem reader headcanons ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

a/n: this is purely FICTION if u couldn’t already tell.

Hamzah is the first person you run to when it’s time to gossip. He gets sooo sassy sometimes it’s honestly hilarious. You can always count on him to channel his bitchy side when the two of you are talking about someone you don’t like. He constantly has you wondering how he even comes up with the insults he uses for the people you don’t get along with. Like, what possessed you to say that shit ໒꒰ྀི˶╥︿╥꒱ྀི১ ? At least you know he’ll always have your back!

you always help dress him up when Martin and him decide to be in costume for a podcast episode. I’ve mentioned this in the first post I made about him, but he would absolutely ask you to help him out with his costumes. If he’s wearing makeup/a wig/feminine clothing, he’s making you help him. Not that you’d need that much convincing anyway.

like, literally look at him. Him in those little braids is gonna kill meee ohmygod 😭.

prefers to have you around when he’s editing a video. He loves being able to have you sit on his lap while he works on putting out a video for the day. Your feedback is something he values an incredible amount, and he’s always asking for your opinion when it comes to music choices, text styles, transitions, etc.

Constantly sending you updates on his day when the two of you are away from each other. You could be out n about running some errands, and you’ll receive tons of messages from Hamzah saying what he’s doing at that exact moment.

“me and the cats miss u 😞.” “babyyyyy do u know when you’ll be home” “do you want me to order something before u get back home?”

Hamzah most definitely refers to you as your cat’s ‘mom’. He’ll be holding one of your cats in his arms, talking to them in a baby voice before saying: “wanna say hi to mama?”

You helped prepare his food when he was in the process of bulking up for his boxing match with Martin. Okay, baby, so you need 16 eggs? Coming right up!

Hamzah is constantly putting you on to new music. some of your favorite songs are ones that he recommended to you.

He always finds an excuse to talk about you. There are countless clips of Hamzah rambling on n on about you, sharing cute little stories that he has stored up about his sweet girlfriend. There’s even a funny clip of Martin saying, “here he go y’all 😒”, meanwhile Hamzah is practically powering up to start talking about you. Martin doesn’t actually have a problem with it he just likes teasing Hamzah about how ‘whipped’ he is.

During his boxing match with Martin, you could be seen wearing your very own version of Mandy’s shirt.

He is almost ALWAYS taking photos of you with those stupid ass filters on. He finds it soo funny and uses those photos as stickers/reaction pictures when he’s texting you. Aside from that, he loves taking photos of you and it’s to the point where his photo gallery might as well be dedicated to you at this point.

He is INSANELY clingy. It honestly gets even more intense when he’s high. It’s to the point where you’re convinced he’s trying to burrow himself within your skin.

when you’re in the same room as him & Martin while they’re filming a podcast, his eyes are always darting behind the camera to admire you. It’s soso cute because he’s all smiley and everyone knows that he’s looking at you behind the camera.

Him trying to telepathically communicate with you while you’re behind the camera:

[rcklessheavn]

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫 ── ★ ˙🏎️ ̟ !!

f1 driver!matt x influencer!reader au

summary: after influencer!reader is invited to give interviews at the grand prix event, she meets matt and everything changes for both of them.

intro pt1 pt2

warning: none

wc: 2.2k

note: i know ive taken so long but i am new to the F1 world and really really wanted to educate myself properly, so i am now writing as a fan!!! i still have a lot to learn so bare with me :)

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ༉‧₊˚.

Three knocks on your door jolted you awake. For a moment, you couldn’t remember where you were—or why you were sleeping on what felt like a giant marshmallow. Seriously, this bed was the perfect level of comfort for any mortal human.

“Y/N! If you don’t hurry up, you’re going to be late for practice!” Hailey’s voice came through the door, sharp and urgent.

“No, Mom, I don’t have practice today. Remember?” you mumbled into your pillow, clearly still half-asleep. But then your alarm—set the night before—blared, dragging you back to reality.

You jumped up with a start, just as Hailey knocked twice more, her hand poised for a third. You scrambled to open the door. “Sorry, sorry! In my defense, I did set an alarm... and woke up.” You flashed her an innocent smile, but she just rolled her eyes. Clearly, this wasn’t her first rodeo with you—which was exactly why you loved her so much.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, unfazed. “Now, we’ve got practice and an official paddock tour, but first—breakfast. Get ready. Chop chop!” She clapped her hands for added drama.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you made your way to the bathroom for a shower.

The first time you stepped into this suite, it felt like you’d walked into a palace. Everything was so elegant, so delicate—it practically screamed luxury. Even the toilet paper felt like it cost a fortune, and that’s no easy feat. You couldn’t believe you were here, experiencing all of this. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and you were going to make the most of it.

“Okay, I’m done!” you called as you emerged from the bathroom, fully ready to face the day. Makeup done, hair styled, outfit on. You’d kept it low-key—just a casual yet cute look, with a Ferrari hat to show off your passion. No need to go overboard, since you weren’t expecting to run into anyone just yet.

“Well, that was faster than I expected. Eager much?” Hailey teased, glancing up from her phone, probably checking if the Uber had arrived (it had).

You just shook your head, chuckling. She knew exactly how to push your buttons.

You grabbed your phone and double-checked your purse. Wallet? Check. Charger? Check. Portable charger? Check. Camera? Check. Extra batteries and SD cards? Check and check. Tylenol? Check. Various lipsticks, glosses, and liners? Check, check, and check. Powder and extra blush? Check and check. You mentally went through your checklist, sure you hadn’t missed anything... until you froze.

The passes. You mentally smacked your forehead. Almost forgot the very thing that would let you experience all of this.

“Okay, ready to go?” you asked Hailey, who gave you a nod, standing up from the couch.

Time to get this day started.

Arriving at the paddock felt surreal. As you stepped out, you were greeted by the sound of a huge crowd of F1 fans. Polite smiles all around, you made your way through the crowd—but then, you heard your name being shouted. You turned and saw a teenage girl waving at you. You glanced at Hailey, silently asking for permission to approach, and she nodded.

“Y/N! Y/N!” the girl called out, her face lighting up.

You smiled and waved. “Hi! You know me?” you asked, surprised.

“Yes! Yes! Are you kidding? I love your content! I saw your Instagram post yesterday! I swear I’m not stalking you, I just happened to already have plans to be here, and somehow, I low-key manifested meeting you!” She spoke so quickly, her excitement palpable. “Is it okay if I take a picture with you?”

You chuckled, taking her phone. “Of course, we can!” You smiled. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“I’m Emiliana,” she said, her bright smile warming your heart. “Thank you so, so much!”

“It was so nice to meet you, Emiliana,” you said, still smiling. “I’ve never had a fan interaction before. You’ve made this trip so much more special.” You waved as you walked away, and she waved back with a grin.

As you entered the paddock gates, Hailey turned to you with a proud smile. “Wasn’t that your first fan interaction?”

You took a deep breath and turned back to glance at Emiliana one last time. “Yes, it was,” you said, smiling up at Hailey. She pulled you into a side hug.

“I think Monaco is already changing your life,” she joked, and you laughed.

“Maybe I’ll end up on Vogue or something,” you joked back.

You both made your way further into the paddock, and you took a deep breath, pulling out your camera to film some b-roll. As you were filming, a woman approached you.

“Hello, I’m Claudia! You must be Y/N, right? And Hailey?” She asked, and you blinked in surprise. Then you saw her Ferrari badge, and everything clicked.

You extended your hand to greet her. “Yes, hi! It’s nice to meet you, Claudia!” you said, a little too cheerfully, but Claudia seemed pleased by your energy.

“I’m with Ferrari,” she said, holding up her badge, “and I’ll be with you both this morning. Practice starts in 45 minutes, so we’re going on a quick track tour. Our car is waiting, so we need to hurry. After that, we’ll head back to the Ferrari quarters and watch practice. Does that sound good?”

Her words were like music to your ears. You nodded eagerly, and Hailey spoke up.

“Sounds perfect. We really appreciate it!” she said, and Claudia smiled.

“Is anyone else coming with us, or…” you trailed off, your curiosity piqued.

“Well, not really. Each team can select one to three creators they want to sponsor or collaborate with, and due to the connection with Matthew Sturniolo and his brothers—who have huge platforms—they’re usually on board for this. They come every year, so they know the drill.” She led you toward the car.

“So, I was chosen as the third creator?” you asked, a bit surprised.

“Yes, but not at random. At Ferrari, we focus on quality over quantity. We’ve been closely following your content, and your passion for our team really stood out. We knew we could achieve something big with you,” she explained, her tone formal yet warm.

Those words hit you hard, and a warm sense of pride washed over you. You had no idea what you’d done to deserve this, but you were certainly not complaining.

You walked past the garage where all the cars were, sneaking a quick peek. None of the drivers seemed to be around, so your body relaxed a little, saving the anxiety for when you came back.

Outside the track, the car was waiting for you. You climbed in, and the driver, Francisco, introduced himself. Both you and Hailey returned the greeting. You pulled out your camera and started filming for your vlog. The ride was mostly quiet, with Hailey asking a few questions here and there. You knew the answers to most, but you paid close attention to the ones you didn’t know.

Then Claudia spoke up, her voice cutting through the silence. “So, Y/N, why Ferrari?”

You smiled, leaning back a little. “Truthfully, I grew up alongside Ferrari. My dad’s a huge Schumacher and Vettel fan, so when race season rolled around, he’d make sure to explain everything to me and my brother. He thought my brother would be the one to sit down with him and watch the races, but to be honest, I was the one who never missed one.” You chuckled, reminiscing about your childhood. “My favorite movie growing up was Cars, so that probably explains a lot. Yeah, I guess red’s been my color since I was born,” you said with a proud smile. Both Hailey and Claudia smiled at you, and you were pretty sure even Francisco grinned.

As you finished your story, on your way back, you noticed the paddock approaching. Your heart began racing again, knowing that any driver could be there right now.

“Who’s your favorite, then?” Claudia asked as you reached your destination, getting out the car.

“Hard question,” you said, glancing up at her. “I really love a lot of them, but Charles Leclerc and Matt Sturniolo have really changed things for the Tifosi. Especially Matt. He has a talent and passion I admire—honestly, I’m surprised he isn’t a world champion yet.” You said it casually, trying not to sound like a crazy, obsessive fan.

“Maybe this year,” Claudia said with a knowing smile.

“Maybe,” you replied, walking past the Ferrari garage.

You had peeked at it before, but now, standing in front of it—knowing you were about to walk inside—it felt utterly surreal. Everything you’d dreamed of, being in a Formula 1 paddock in Monaco, part of the guests, all of it had come true in this moment.

“Shall we go in?” Claudia asked, coming up behind you with Hailey. Apparently, they were already buddies now.

Too afraid to say anything wrong, you simply nodded. Claudia led the way, starting her tour from the ground floor. You took a closer look at both Charles and Matt’s cars. They were even redder in person than you’d imagined. Claudia introduced you to the mechanics and engineers—everyone was so welcoming. The middle floor had the pit wall, with a slight balcony overlooking the track. Finally, the guest area was on the top floor, and, unexpectedly, there were two familiar figures sitting out on the balcony.

“And here I thought we were meeting later tonight,” you said, a little too confidently, to your amusement.

“OMG! Y/N!” One of the figures jumped up, meeting you halfway at the door.

“HI NICK!” you chuckled, embracing him. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“I know! I can’t believe we live in the same city and still haven’t hung out!” Nick said, laughing. He turned to introduce you to the person beside him. “Oh! This is my brother Chris. Chris, this is Y/N. I think I’ve mentioned her to you.”

Chris stood up and stretched out his hand. “Oh yeah! You were watching her this morning. Nice to meet you,” he said with a polite smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I love your brand! Big fan, not gonna lie,” you admitted casually, and Chris just smiled, clearly pleased.

“Are you excited?” Nick asked, giving you a spot to sit beside them.

“Yes, totally! It’s my first time, so I’m super hyped right now,” you said. Just then, you heard Claudia’s voice behind you.

“Hey, guys!” she greeted Nick and Chris, who waved back. Then she turned to you. “Y/N, is it okay if we leave you here with the guys for a bit? Hailey and I need to talk about some business things, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’m not in trouble, am I?” you asked, half-joking.

Claudia chuckled, shaking her head. “No, not at all. Just call me if you need anything,” she said, then left, leaving you with your new friends.

Before practice started, you decided to take a few pictures, handing your camera to Nick.

“Can you take some pictures of me?” you asked, and Nick’s face lit up, clearly excited. Photography was definitely his thing after all.

Meanwhile, on the ground floor, the two Ferrari drivers were getting ready to head out. They were bantering about who was better—Spider-Man or Batman. This definitely wasn’t their first time having this debate. Matt, bored of the conversation, glanced up at the balcony, maybe to wave at his brothers, but instead, he noticed a new figure posing for a photo. Nick was clearly assigned to be the photographer.

“Yo!” Matt said, playfully hitting Charles on the arm, clearly distracted. “Who’s that?” he asked, catching his teammate’s attention.

Charles turned to look where Matt was pointing and shrugged. “I don’t know, probably just one of those influencers they invite every year,” he muttered.

Matt sighed, a hint of curiosity in his voice. “She’s wearing a Ferrari hat.” He paused. “Do you think she’s a fan?” He tried to mask the excitement in his voice, but the hopeful look in his eyes betrayed him.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe she’s wearing it for promo or just as a benefit for her,” Charles shrugged, sounding uninterested.

Matt let out a disappointed sigh but kept it to himself. He wasn’t one to show his emotions so easily.

Charles looked at him, lifting an eyebrow in playful teasing. “Are you interested, Matthew?” he asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Matt swatted Charles’s hand away, rolling his eyes. “No. Why? Are you?” he shot back, his tone light but challenging.

“No, bro, I’m taken,” Charles laughed, stepping back toward his car to get ready. “You should be too,” he shouted over his shoulder, still chuckling.

The sound of Charles’s shout made you turn around, and in that split second, your eyes met Matt’s. You felt a jolt of nervousness before quickly turning back to your conversation with Nick.

Matt held your gaze for a brief moment, a sudden rush of electricity surging through him. Racing cars were an electric sport, but this—this was something different, something he couldn’t quite explain. And he liked it.

“Matt, they need you now, you ready, man?” Nate, Matt’s performance coach, called from behind him, breaking the moment and making Matt drop his gaze.

“Very,” Matt responded firmly, shaking off the unexpected rush.

Chris’s voice pulled you out of the daze you’d slipped into after locking eyes with Matt for the first time. “Ready to experience your first F1 weekend?” he asked with a grin.

You sighed, smiling back at him. “More than ready,” you assured him, eyes drifting to the track ahead.

a story by rcklessheavn

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ series link

⋆˙⟡ tag list

⤷ authors note: ok this was wayyyy too long so i had to divide this, pt. 3 will be out sooner than this one was. i hope the length makes up for my absence!! thank you for your patience :)

@courta13 @matthewsroses @mattswifeyy @sturniolomatthewb @nessabarretswhore @nickmillersn1gf @mattslefttoenail @thecrawlys @tuttifruttixx @obsessedwiththesturniolos @period-queen1 @pair-of-pantaloons @b4by-hon3y @idkwhatthisis2009 @malsmind @matts-247 @baileysturnz @sturniololover1738 @emely9274 @stitchlover324

[ldydeath]

Don’t Look Back | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: Jiyong is stressed on tour and says something he can’t take back

Warnings: mild language 

Author’s Note: Hi guys! This is a part one of a two part collab fic. My best friend, the lovely and talented @wcnderlnds wrote part two, go check out her post to see how it ends!

PART TWO HERE

Everything was too much. You knew that, Jiyong knew that, but you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t protect him. He should’ve never taken on this tour so close to his enlistment. You knew he wanted to do this one last thing for his fans, something to remember him by. But the stress was about to swallow him whole and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You glanced down at your buzzing phone and sighed.

Jiyong’s face appeared on the screen, you knew he was calling because you weren’t in Japan yet. You were two hours away by flight and the show was still hours away, but you’d promised you’d be there. You answered the call, his voice filling the line before you could even say hello.

“Are you coming to the show tonight?” Jiyong’s voice whined through the phone and you let out a sigh, your hand rubbing your temples.

 You had hours of work to finish in order to get to the airport and you weren’t sure you were going to make it. The tour was nearing the end and you’d promised you’d be there for the last leg. Japan, the Europe dates, and the final night in Taiwan but work wasn’t letting you get away easy.

“I’m going to be getting in right as the show starts at this rate.” You sighed before slamming your hands down on your keyboard.

“You’re still at work?” You could hear the disappointment in his voice and slowed your typing. “I just have to finish some things before I’m gone for three weeks.” He let out a sigh and you chewed on your bottom lip, waiting for him to tell you not to come. 

“Okay, I’ll let you go. I miss you.” the phone went dead before you could reply. 

You slammed your phone down in frustration, trying your best to clear your thoughts so you could at least get to the airport in time to not miss your flight. You missed him too, you hated being apart for as long as you had been.

 At least he hadn’t told you to not bother, that was a step in the right direction, unlike his dates in North America. An ongoing theme throughout this tour was his back and forth on wanting you there. You knew he was going through a lot, but it didn’t excuse his behavior towards you. 

Deciding they could finish the rest without you, you left, making it to your plane just before doors closed and sat down in your first class seat. Of course he had gotten you the best seat money could afford. As you were getting situated, your phone buzzed and you stilled, almost afraid that it was work calling you back. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you saw who it was from. That sigh turned to a groan when you read his words. . 

If you can’t make it, just stay home. I’ll be back before I head to Europe and we can just fly out together.  

You didn’t know why he was pushing you away so much, you knew how lonely he’d been all tour. At least you’d be there in time for the show to start, you could hang out and see Japan after. He was there for a couple days anyway and you’d already made plans to sight see before you headed home. 

I’m on my way. Plane taxiing now. See you soon. You hastily replied back before shutting off your phone and sliding your eye mask over your face. 

You had just enough time to catch a nap before you’d be whisked off to the show. In true Jiyong fashion he’d had a car sent for you once he’d realized he couldn’t pick you up himself. You turned your phone back on once you were in the car to see several missed calls and texts from Jiyong, Daesung, and his management team. 

Well, that wasn’t good. You ignored everyone else blowing up your phone and dialed your boyfriend's number. Straight to voicemail. He was probably just getting into costume for the show. That was all. Everything was fine. It didn’t stop your heart from racing, the nerves settling in the closer you got to the stadium. 

One of Jiyong’s managers met you outside and led you backstage. It wasn’t hard to find Jiyong, he was standing by his entrance spot, his shiny jacket sparkling in the lights, your nerves settled as you saw him. 

“Hey” You grinned, that grin faltering as soon as your eyes met his. 

He looked exhausted. When was the last time he’d slept? Or eaten? He was so thin. You should’ve been here sooner, you could’ve forced him into a bed with a bowl of soup and not let him get up for a few days. You hadn’t seen him this bad off since that night he’d fainted over a year ago. Your heart dropped into your stomach and you reached for him, wanting to beg him to cancel the show. You knew he wouldn’t though and he smiled at you before turning away, your arms falling pathetically to your sides. 

You hesitated before following his crew to the side stage, your favorite spot to watch Jiyong. It always amazed you how quickly he could transform from the exhausted man you saw a few minutes ago to the king of the stage. His fans were none the wiser to how he was truly feeling as he used up every ounce of energy he had on that stage. But you knew, and you caught every stumble, every large inhale, how many times he looked up towards the ceiling. 

Once the show was over Jiyong headed over towards you, grabbed your hand and led you towards his sitting room. He looked up, eying the team of people following behind the two of you closely and shook his head before leading you inside and closing the door on them. He took one swift step towards you before his lips were on yours, his arms winding around you tightly. You could almost feel the weight of the day falling off him as you kissed him back. 

This is what he needed, after all the long days and sleepless nights. You. He knew he was being needy and a bit all over the place with his emotions but now that you were finally here he was going to do everything in his power to make it up to you. 

“Jiyong” You whispered as you broke the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest as you looked into his tired eyes. “Come on, let's get you changed and get some dinner. I’m putting your ass in bed tonight.”

The annoyance that crossed his face was alarming, he’d always appreciated you being the one looking out for him. He’d been off all day though, you reminded yourself as you stepped around him, moving to collect his hoodie. He took it from you wordlessly, stripping out of his sparkly red suit jacket and sliding the hoodie over his head in one swift movement. 

“I don’t want you to be here if you’re just going to baby me.” Your eyes widened as you looked over at him. Surely you’d heard him wrong.

“I’m not babying you, Jiyong. You’re clearly not sleeping and when was the last time you ate?” He glared at you, folding his arms across his chest. 

“This morning. I’m fine.” 

“That’s bullshit, Jiyong. You’re not fine.” You pulled out your phone, pulling up the various missed calls. “If you were fine you wouldn’t be crying out for help when I’m on an airplane. What’s going on with you?”

He glanced down, running his hand through his already messy hair and let out a sigh. “You were supposed to be here for this, not come at the end and start worrying about me.” He glanced up, all the pain you thought maybe you’d imagined was visible on his face. “I needed you here.”

“I had to work!” it was a lame excuse and you knew it but it was all you had. They wouldn’t just let you take months off work to let you follow Jiyong around the world. 

“I told you I’d take care of you. What do you think that fucking ring meant? You don’t have to work.”  His icey tone caused you to flinch, he’d never been this angry with you before. You glance down at your ring, absentmindedly twisting it on your finger.  

“We talked about this, Jiyong. I’m not going to quit my job and sit at home worried about you for the next two years. After the wedding, we agreed to revisit that topic. Don’t throw it back in my face now. I’m here. I’ve been here for you every night regardless of the distance.” 

You two had had your share of fights before, but this felt different. Like you were both toeing a dangerous ledge and if you weren’t careful someone was going to get hurt. You held his gaze daring him to say something. Anything.

“Maybe it’s not good enough.” Your eyes widened in shock, your heart thumping so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

He didn’t mean that. You knew he didn’t mean that, but all rational thoughts had seemed to exit your brain as his words cut you so deeply. All you wanted to do was hurt him back.

“Not good enough? Being awake at three in the morning when I have a meeting at seven to make sure you’re ok, that you’ve eaten, isn’t good enough? Hopping on a flight to be here with you wasn’t good enough? I have supported you through everything, Jiyong. I have loved you through all of it. If that’s not good enough then I don’t think anything will be. Maybe you should take this back, if I’m no longer good enough.” Your voice cracked and you willed yourself not to cry, he wasn’t going to see your tears today.

You slid the ring off your finger, holding it out for him. He blinked, looking down at the ring. This isn’t what he wanted, he had always wanted you. He’d be damned if he broke in front of you right now, though. If you were just going to give up on him because of one bad day, then fine. He moved over to you, snatching the ring out of your hand and slid it onto his pinky. 

You shook your head, moving towards the door. “If you walk out that door don’t come back.” His sharp voice broke the silence in the room and without looking at him, you opened the door, walked out and slammed it behind you. He closed his eyes, letting out a long exhale. He’d really fucked this up, hadn’t he?

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

78. don’t kick his ass (written)

prev // m.list // next

Looking at the ceiling, still feeling something between numbed and overwhelmed, Yeonjun convinces himself that he did what he had to do. It’s just a little break until he manages to get Yuna to stop harassing him. Once she’s out of the picture, all those feelings will go away. Once she’s gone again, he can go back to the life he’s worked so hard for, right? He knows he’s hurting the person he loves most in the world, but it’s all for a good reason. Surely, you will understand. He will explain and you’ll understand. Just not right now. Not when his old wounds are wide open and you can see his pitiful soul covered in blood. He just needs a few days, maybe weeks, and everything will be okay again.

He really wants to believe that, because it’s been just a couple of days and he’s already dying to talk to you and go back to how things were; how they’re supposed to be.

“Can you please calm down?” Dahyun sighs yet again.

Joshua’s been angry and anxious ever since he saw those posts. Just what the fuck is Yeonjun doing.

“I can’t!” He’s beyond exasperated right now. “She literally said nothing’s going on and yet has gone radio silence ever since. I need to know she’s okay, and she won’t talk to anyone. And I can’t go to Seoul ‘cause we’re closing an important deal and those fuckers insist on seeing me.”

“Hansol says he’s going,” she tries to reassure him.

“That’s way worse!” He complains.

As if sensing they were talking about him, Halson walks into the living room. He looks like he’s ready to kill someone.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get there.” He announces while he makes sure he has his passport with him.

“Just don’t kick his ass right away,” Dahyun pleads.

“I’m not making any promises,” Hansol rolls his eyes.

“She’s gonna hate us if you do,” Josh reminds him. “Just make sure to get both sides of the story.”

“We’re literally meddling in her private life, she’s gonna hate us regardless.” Sarcasm drips from his voice. “So I have to at least land a good punch on that fucker.”

Joshua can’t help but sigh again. Contrary to popular belief, Hansol is way more prone to be a lot more overprotective than he is, and that already says a lot. Of, course, Joshua knows he’s intense and kind of abrasive, but he’s never one to resort to violence. Josh admits he’s the bark, and Hansol is the bite. That’s why they make such a good team. And that’s why he didn’t want him to go alone.

“I really hope you guys don’t regret this,” Dahyun says hugging his waist.

“I think we will.”

During the flight, Hansol tries to think about something else. He really, really tries to write a song and even read the book he always carries around which title he’s already forgotten. He can’t. His mind goes back to his little sister and, by extension, to Josh.

He still remembers the day they met, they were both five and trying not to die of boredom at one of the fancy dinners their parents used to host all the time. Joshua’s chubby cheeks and proud grin are still clear in his mind, “I’m gonna be a big brother soon,” he remembers Joshua bragging. That summer, they met every day and Joshua would say he’d be his big brother too. He was bossy, even more than now, but he was fun. Joshua would try to teach him stuff and care for him, he really enjoyed flexing those few months between their birthdays. Hansol has to admit that he was a little jealous of Joshua’s unborn sister, he liked the attention and felt that the little girl would steal Joshua from him.

And then he saw her. So tiny and fragile, she stole his heart. “Can I be a big brother too?” He remembers asking Joshua. And it’s been like that ever since. He was there as much as he could and tried to help here and there. He thought little Yn would interfere with his time with Joshua, but it was Joshua who’d always tried to cut short his time with the little girl. He loved attending her tea parties and letting her and Karina paint his nails. He’s loved her ever since he first saw her, he’d give up his life for his sister. Blood doesn’t matter, that’s his sister. And he’s gonna make sure Yeonjun understands.

That’s what made him lose his mind in the first place. He was the first to welcome Yeonjun to their little family and even encouraged him to finally ask Yn out. He was really grateful for his presence in his sister’s life. He never expected that he would do something like this, especially completely out of nowhere.

“What the hell is going on?” He mutters looking out the window. There’s nothing to see, though, not besides some dark clouds in the distance.

Three days. It’s been three days since Yeonjun said he needed some space. You still can’t make sense out of his words. You tried texting him, calling him. You haven’t shown up to his place, though, you don’t think you could handle such a direct rejection if he refuses to see you even then. Where did it all go wrong? Everything was going great, better than great even. Everything was perfect.

Were you too pushy? Too clingy? Just too much? Or maybe he got scared? This was his first relationship after a really long time, after all. Maybe everything got way too serious way too fast. He did say he wanted to take things slow, see where it goes. But you thought you were on the same page, you thought you both had the same goals and desires. What if he was just trying to please you? What if you were just a means to an end? What if he was just trying to prove that he could be in a relationship?

But he said he loved you? Loved? When did you start to think about him in past tense? Isn’t he your present and future? Fuck. Everything is a little too overwhelming.

“I need to get out,” you say before grabbing your keys and going out.

You walk around for a few hours but turns out that that’s not enough to ease your mind. Your thoughts are still driving you crazy. Your heart still aching. And Yeonjun’s still missing. When did you get so used to him being around? You miss his jokes, his laugh. His yapping, his random stories. Every single part of him became a part of you. How is it possible to love someone that much in such a short time? His little quirks are engraved in your mind. And you miss him.

And then you see the best way to forget about everything. Even if just for a little while. You just want to forget. Life would be easier if you could just disappear until everything is right again.

“Just one drink,” you say before making your way into the bar.

Very bad idea.

notes:

please tell me you get the modern family reference 😭

joshua trying to be reasonable is my favorite thing ever

han is a real one

if you don't hate my writing and storytelling, you can help me choose my next story here lol

taglist: open! (3/50)

@estella-novella @poetryforthesad @lisaswifey @angelzforu @ihrtlix @gloriousqueenking @domfikeluva @conwunder @miniature-tragedy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sh0dor1 @yourenzoo @tkshairband @realrintaro @castingjinx @amara-mars @hwangrfrnd @nujeskz @jisungs-iced-americano @zeizeisjy @va1entinaa @beomgyusluver @to-toad @akindaflora @hoefororeo @mandydxndy @nyanamii @delulu4-life @thatonexcgirl @starsunoo @4lndr17 @nbjch05 @borahae-reads @mrsstayfox @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @mrsminseochoi @velvetmoonlght @night-storm7 @lilbrorufr @hyunjinstolemyheart @mangojellyyy @ihrtantn @lausnotverybright @hwangism143 @wa1kinggh0st @skz-ot8-stay @athens-09xx

[spencessocks]

bucky AND spencer??!!! are you my brain? my brain has a tumblr? but seriously im so happy you exist.

i was originally coming to say how in ‘through the silence’ the theme and the conversation could be the same (okay maybe just similar) with post prison spencer x reader and how he is trying to get back to reality and leave prison behind

love you xx

a/n: omfg what... im literally going to eat ur face... this sort of got a little longer than i intended and it took me a while because i was busy with work so im sorry!😭😭 but thank u so much omg i was reeling from this ask, ur so sweet and ilysm!!!

what remains

summary: after spencer returns from prison, the trauma he endured drives a wedge between him and the one person who loves him most.

pairing: postprison!spencer reid x reader

wordcount: 6.8k

warnings: sad spencer, sad reader, everyones sad, reader drinks like a sip of wine

the apartment is quiet when spencer walks in. it’s late—again. you don’t know where he goes, but he never offers, and you’ve stopped asking.

he drops his keys onto the counter with a dull clink, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion, and you watch from your place on the couch, heart aching at the sight of him. he looks different now. he's been home for months, but the man who walked through your door after prison isn’t the same one who left.

“hey,” you say gently, closing your book and setting it aside.

he glances at you but doesn’t hold your gaze for long. “hey.”

you swallow down the lump in your throat. “did you eat?”

“i'm not hungry.” his answer is clipped, automatic, the same response he’s given you almost every night since he’s been back.

you knew it wouldn’t be easy. that things would be different and he wouldn’t be the same. you had told yourself that over and over in the days leading up to his return, had braced yourself for the changes.

but you'd had hope—hope that, with time, things would settle. that he would come back to you—not just physically, but in the ways that mattered. that he would find his way back to the man he used to be, the man who used to curl up beside you on the couch, rambling about his latest case or a book he was reading. the man who used to laugh, used to smile, used to pull you into his arms like you were the safest place in the world.

but you had underestimated the impression this whole ordeal would leave on him.

it wasn't just in the way he carried himself, the way exhaustion clung to his frame or how the light in his eyes had dimmed. it was deeper than that. it was in the way he recoiled from touch when he used to seek it, in the way his voice lacked the excitement and curiosity it once held. in the distance that stretched between you, widening a little more each day, despite your best efforts to close it.

prison had carved something out of him, something you weren’t sure could ever be replaced. he had been home for months, but a harsh reality was starting to settle in you—that some wounds don’t heal the way you expect them to. some stay raw, lingering beneath the surface, invisible until they make themselves known in quiet moments—in the silence at the dinner table, in the way he avoids your gaze, in the way he flinches at your touch, in the walls he keeps building no matter how hard you try to tear them down.

he didn’t talk about what happened in there, and you didn’t press—even if sometimes curiosity clawed at you. but every laconic response, every empty stare, every night he disappeared without explanation told you more than words ever could. he was still there, trapped in a place you couldn’t seem to reach, and no matter how badly you wanted to, you weren’t sure you ever would.

you exhale slowly, measuring your words before speaking. "spencer, you know what i'm going to say." your voice is soft, careful, but it still makes him flinch, just barely.

"i'm fine," he mutters, turning away from you.

you hesitate, just for a moment, before the words slip out. a quiet, almost embarrassed whisper in the stillness of the room.

"will you at least sit with me for a little while?"

you regret the question the second it leaves your mouth, second-guessing yourself as soon as the vulnerability hits you. it sounds so small, so simple—sit with me, like it’s not asking for much, but in a way, it feels like you’re begging. you feel humiliation crawl up your neck.

"we don't have to talk," you add quickly, trying to soften the weight of your words. "we can just—"

"i'm tired," he interrupts, voice hollow. he’s already moving toward the bedroom, like he can't get away fast enough.

you stare blanky at him, his back already turned to you. you don't say anything. you can't. the words get stuck somewhere in your throat, tangled up with the shock and the sting of his dismissal. you just sit there, still as stone, the weight of his words settling over you like a thick, suffocating fog.

it shouldn't surprise you—this response, this distance, the way he shuts you out without a second thought. it’s been happening for weeks now, a slow unraveling of something that once felt unbreakable. and yet, it does surprise you.

because you still hoped—that he would just sit with you. that it couldn't possibly be that bad that your own husband couldn't sit on the the same goddamn couch as you.

you don’t know if your lack of response matters. maybe it does. maybe that’s why he hesitates in the doorway, fingers gripping the frame as if he's weighing his options. for a second, you think he might turn around, might give you something—anything. but then, just as quickly, he lets go and disappears into the darkness of the bedroom.

you sit there, motionless, as the door to the bedroom clicks shut behind him. the sound feels final, sharp.

the interaction plays in your head. "i'm tired."

the look on his face—or the lack of one. there’s nothing there. no fight, no frustration, not even the faintest trace of a desire to make things right.

you blink, once, twice, trying to shake the fog from your brain, but the shock is still there, thick in your chest. it’s like a pulse, steady and unrelenting, buzzing through your veins. you don’t know what to do with it. how to process it.

at this point, you can hardly recognize yourself. the person you used to be—before all this. you would have never let spencer walk away from that. you would’ve confronted him, spoken your truth, demanded that he listen. you were an opinionated person, it wasn't like you to let someone walk over you—spencer liked that about you. you would’ve never felt embarrassed by something so simple, so vulnerable, said to the man you loved.

the anger bubbles up, creeping through the shock like a slow poison, and suddenly, your skin feels tight. it feels wrong. how dare he? how can he just walk away, leave you in this empty room, in this awful, suffocating silence, after everything you’ve been through together?

surely, you wouldn't do this to him. that thought had crossed your mind before, only to be quickly pushed away by the reminder that you couldn't possibly know what he was going through—what he felt in that place.

but now, the thought clung to you, insistent, refusing to be ignored and with it came another. maybe he didn’t know how to let go of you—maybe he was too afraid to say the words, so instead, he kept hurting you without even realizing it. maybe he thought pulling away was easier than facing the truth. if the roles were reversed, you'd seek him out, wanting his comfort, his presence. so why wasn't he doing the same for you? why was he so unwilling to lean on you—when he had done it a million times before?

the pulse in your neck quickens, blood rushing, and you grip the edge of the couch, knuckles white. you don't even realize you're standing now, the instinct to do something, anything, pushing you forward. your breath comes quick and shallow as frustration and disbelief twist inside you like a knot that you can't untangle.

what are you supposed to do with this? what are you supposed to do when your own husband looks at you like you’re nothing—like you’re some kind of inconvenience he just can’t deal with tonight?

your body moves on its own, your legs carrying you to the door as if they have a will of their own—pyjamas and slippers be damned—the front door slams shut behind you with an almost violent finality. the apartment feels suffocating now, the weight of his absence, of his rejection, too much to bear. you need to leave.

you don’t bother to grab your phone. what would be the point? there’s nothing to say to him anymore—if he would even call. not when you’re standing on the edge of something you can’t even explain to yourself, a frustration and sadness mixing into something unrecognizable.

you walk fast, too fast, the cold air biting at your skin, and it helps. the briskness of the night, the sting of it, gives you a sense of purpose, something to focus on other than the gnawing emptiness inside you. you don’t want to sit in that silence any longer, don’t want to stew in your thoughts, trapped in that apartment where the echoes of your broken attempts at connection are suffocating.

jj’s place isn’t far—just a few blocks—but it might as well be a world away. the walk feels like an eternity, but it’s the only thing you can control right now. you don't have to think about spencer. you don’t have to think about him.

you find yourself at jj’s door, your breath coming out in white clouds, and for the first time tonight, you feel a brief flicker of something approaching relief. you knock twice, hard, before pulling back and pressing your forehead against the doorframe, closing your eyes, letting the coolness of it ground you. what the hell am i doing?

when she opens the door, her eyes widen at the sight of you, but she doesn’t ask. she doesn’t need to. she just steps aside, pulling you in with a soft, understanding smile.

“you okay?” she asks gently, though you know she already knows the answer.

you nod, but only because you don't trust your voice not to break if you speak. she doesn’t push, just closes the door behind you and leads you to the couch. you sit without a word, leaning back against the cushions, closing your eyes, and for the first time in what feels like months, you let yourself breathe.

jj moves toward the kitchen without a word, and you hear the familiar sound of glasses clinking, followed by the admittedly soothing pour of wine. she returns with a glass in each hand, her expression knowing. she hands you one and sits down beside you, settling into the cushions with the kind of ease that makes you wish you could do the same.

"talk to me,” she says, her voice quiet, but firm enough to break the silence that’s settled between you. it’s not a question, really—more like a gentle command, the kind that only someone who knows you can give.

you let out a breath, leaning back into the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment, unsure where to even begin. everything feels like a mess. but her presence, her calm, makes you feel like you might find the strength to sort it out.

“spencer—" you stop yourself, the words catching in your throat. you shake your head, a laugh escaping your lips at the disbelief of your situation. "i don’t even know what to say anymore. i don’t know how we got here. it’s like i don’t even know who he is anymore.”

jj listens, her eyes steady, her hands wrapped around her own glass, but her gaze never wavers. she’s waiting. you know she won’t interrupt.

“i thought... i thought he’d come back to me, you know?” the words slip out before you can stop them, and the sadness that follows hits you harder than anything before. “i thought, with time, things would get better. that i could get him back, the way he was. but... it’s like he’s not even here anymore. i don’t know how to reach him. and when i try, it feels like he just shuts me out more.”

you swallow hard, feeling a sharp sting behind your eyes. it feels pathetic, but you can’t stop it now. you can’t stop the flood of everything that’s been building up, everything you’ve been trying to ignore.

“he’s gone, jj. and i don’t know how to be with someone who’s... not really here,” you say, your voice breaking on the last word.

jj doesn’t say anything at first, just lets you breathe, lets you sit with it for a moment. “i know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but he’s not gone. he’s just... changed. and change is hard. for both of you.”

you scoff softly, shaking your head. “i feel like i'm going crazy."

jj watches you carefully, her gaze unwavering as she processes your words. you feel exhausted—physically, emotionally—like the weight of the past few months has finally settled on your shoulders all at once.

jj studies you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. then, she exhales, setting her wine glass down on the coffee table. “you’re not crazy,” she says simply. “you’re grieving.”

that catches you off guard. you blink at her. “grieving?”

she nods. “yeah. you’re grieving the life you had before. the spencer you had before.” she pauses. “and maybe... the version of yourself that existed before all this.”

you open your mouth, but no words come out. you want to argue, to tell her it’s not that simple, that you’re not mourning spencer like he’s some lost cause, but—god—doesn’t it feel like that sometimes? doesn’t it feel like the person you knew, the person you loved, is slipping further and further away?

jj sighs, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “i know what it’s like to watch someone you love disappear into themselves. to feel helpless while they struggle with something you can’t fix.” her voice is softer now, careful, like she’s walking a tightrope. “it’s terrifying.”

your fingers tighten around your wine glass. “so what do i do?” the question comes out more fragile than you want it to, barely above a whisper.

she’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “you—" her words are interrupted by an abrupt sound. jj’s phone is ringing, sharp and sudden in the quiet of the room. you flinch, your heart leaping into your throat before you even see the name on the screen. but you already know.

spencer.

panic grips you, fast and unrelenting, and before you can think, the words spill out. “don’t answer it.”

jj hesitates, glancing at the phone on the coffee table. the screen glows with his name, the sound vibrating between you like a living thing. “he’s your husband,” she says gently, but her fingers hover over the screen instead of answering.

“i don’t care,” you whisper, shaking your head. “please, jj. don’t.”

she studies you, eyes flicking over your face like she’s trying to gauge just how serious you are. if she picks up, you’ll have to hear him—his voice, his clipped tone, his inevitable question: where are you? and what then? you don’t have an answer.

jj sighs, silencing the call but not declining it. the ringing stops, but the silence that follows is almost worse.

“you know he’s worried,” she says carefully. “you left without your phone. you think he’s just going to let that go?”

you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping your glass like it’s the only thing tethering you to the moment. “i don’t know,” you admit. “i just—I can’t do this right now. fuck.”

jj shifts closer, her voice calm but firm. “running won’t fix this.”

you let out a short, bitter laugh. “staying hasn't."

she doesn’t have an answer for that.

jj watches you carefully, then sighs. “stay here as long as you need. but at some point, you have to decide—are you going home? or are you walking away?”

your arm is moving suddenly, the wine glass at your lips. her words settle over you like a weight. and for the first time, you realize—you don’t know.

jj's phone buzzes again, and you flinch at the sight of spencer’s name lighting up the screen. the call goes to voicemail, and for a few seconds, there’s nothing but silence.

the phone rings a second time. you can almost hear spencer’s voice in your head, the exact tone he always takes when he doesn’t know what to say.

“I’ll answer it,” jj says softly, but the words feel like a concession rather than a promise. she picks up the phone, and her thumb hovers over the screen.

you don’t stop her, but you wish you could. you wish you could shut everything down, turn it all off.

“spencer?” jj says, her voice calm, controlled.

you close your eyes, hearing his voice crackle through the speaker.

“jj... is she there?” spencer’s voice sounds worn, tight with something just beneath the surface. you can hear the familiar threads of guilt and concern tangled in his words. “i—i don’t know where she went. she just… she left without saying anything.”

jj looks at you, her expression unreadable. you can feel the heat of her stare on you.

“yeah, she's here.” jj finally responds, her words careful. “but she's not ready to talk to you right now, spencer.”

a long pause follows. you can hear spencer’s breath, shallow, like he’s holding something back.

“i just... i just need to know she's okay,” he says, the frustration and desperation clear in his voice. “please.”

you wince at the pleading in his words. it cuts through you in a way you hadn’t expected.

jj looks at you, her expression unreadable, before she glances down at the phone again. you can feel the heat of her stare on you.

“she’s fine,” jj says, with a note of finality. “but I think you need to give her some time. she’s been through a lot, spencer. you both have.”

“time?” Spencer’s voice cracks. “jj, i don’t—“

but she cuts him off. “i’m not getting in the middle of this. just... take care of yourself for now, okay? you’ll talk when she’s ready. she’ll come back when she’s ready.”

the phone goes silent for a moment, and then the faint click of the line disconnecting. jj pulls the phone away from her ear and sets it down on the coffee table with a soft sigh.

jj sits back, her gaze still trained on you, like she’s waiting for something.

the silence in the room feels heavier now. It presses against your chest, and the weight of it makes your thoughts swirl faster than they should. spencer’s voice still echoes in your mind—i just need to know she's okay. you don’t want to admit it, but the desperation in his words cuts deeper than you anticipated. you don’t want to feel guilty. but it settles over you, thick and unavoidable, as you sit on jj’s couch, the comfort of her presence fading into the background.

“he sounded worried,” you murmur, more to yourself than to jj.

she nods, watching you carefully. “of course he’s worried.”

you press your lips together, exhaling slowly. “i didn’t think he’d care that much.” the words taste bitter on your tongue, because the truth is, you had wanted him to care. you had wanted him to call, to ask where you were, to prove—at least to himself—that there was still something left between you worth saving.

and he did.

he did.

but now, sitting here, away from him, away from that apartment, the weight of your actions starts creeping in, cold and insidious.

you left.

you walked out without a word.

you knew what it was like to feel abandoned, to reach for someone and find nothing but empty space. and now you’ve done the same to him.

the realization makes your chest tighten, and suddenly, the fight, the frustration, the resentment—it all feels distant, overshadowed by something heavier. something closer to shame.

jj shifts beside you, her voice quiet but knowing. “you’re thinking about going back.”

you shake your head quickly. “i don’t know.” but it’s a lie. you do know.

you inhale sharply, pressing your palm to your forehead, trying to ground yourself. “god, what am I doing, jj?”

“you’re allowed to feel this, you know,” she says simply. “you’re allowed to be angry. to be hurt. to need space.”

you swallow hard, blinking down at your hands. they feel foreign to you, like they belong to someone else. “i just—” you hesitate, voice cracking slightly. “i just got so mad. he was so dismissive of me, and i couldn't be there anymore.”

“i know.”

you stare down at your lap, your fingers tightening around the fabric of your sweater.

you shake your head, guilt curling in your chest. “but that’s not me, jj. that’s not who I am. i don’t just… walk away. i got angry and i overreacted.”

she sighs. “one moment doesn't define you. things are different now. you've never been in a situation like this before,” she pauses. “sometimes you have to walk away, to get your thoughts in order."

"it would've been worse if you blew up at him." she added.

"i think i still might." you said with a dry laugh.

jj smiled slightly, her gaze softening as she leaned back, “you’ve always been the one to hold things together,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, as if trying to remind you that it was okay to break sometimes. “but you can’t hold it all in forever. and sometimes… sometimes you need space to breathe, to think. you don’t always have to be the strong one.”

you let out a breath, unsure of what to say next. jj was always good at cutting through the noise, but the guilt still sat heavily in your chest. you couldn’t escape the feeling that walking away—no matter how much you needed to—had been the wrong choice.

jj watches you for a moment, then leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “listen, i know it feels like you did something wrong by leaving, but you didn’t. you needed space. that’s not the same as giving up.”

you nod slowly, staring down at your hands, but you don’t respond.

jj sighs, then reaches over and squeezes your arm. "look, if there’s anyone who understands why you did what you did, it’s spencer. he has spent his life studying human behavior—figuring out how they think and why they do what they do. spencer knows exactly why you walked out, even if he won't admit it. he knows it was about needing space, about trying to make sense of everything that’s been building up between you.”

she pauses, giving you a reassuring look. “this isn’t the end. this is just a bump in the road—you'll go back when you're ready, and you'll start working through it all."

spencer knows why you left.

the thought lingers, easing the guilt that’s been clawing at you since you walked out. maybe that’s why he didn’t come after you. maybe, in his own way, he understood that you needed this moment to step back, to breathe, to process.

you hope—no, you need—to believe that he’s coming to his own realization. that in the quiet of your absence, in the stillness of an apartment that no longer holds your presence, he’s starting to understand. that maybe, just maybe, he’s replaying every word, every moment, and seeing where it all went wrong.

you want him to recognize that pushing you away was a mistake. that shutting you out, closing himself off instead of letting you in, only built more distance between you. and most of all, you hope he understands now—truly understands—that love isn’t about shutting doors, but about keeping them open, even when it’s hard.

the irony of the situation dawns on you. sitting here, hoping he comes to the right conclusion on his own, won’t change anything. no matter how hurt or frustrated you are, you know one thing for certain—you aren’t going to push him away the way he did to you.

you glance at jj, her eyes soft with understanding, and suddenly, you don’t feel as lost as you did before.

“i have to go back,” you murmur, the words feeling right the moment they leave your lips.

jj studies you for a moment before nodding. “yeah, i figured.” there’s no judgment in her voice, only quiet support.

you stand, but before you can say anything, jj speaks again. “i’m driving you.”

you blink at her. “jj, i can—”

"it’s late, and it’s cold,” she interrupts, crossing her arms. “and i know you. you’ll spend the entire walk overthinking, or worse, you’ll turn around and come right back here.”

you open your mouth to argue, but she raises an eyebrow, daring you to fight her on this. you sigh, giving in. “fine. i'll still overthink in the car though.”

jj smirks as she grabs her keys. "yeah, but at least this way, you’ll be overthinking with heated seats and no risk of getting hit by a rogue cyclist."

you roll your eyes, but there's a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "alright, alright. guess I’ll overthink in comfort then." you step outside, the weight of everything that’s about to unfold on your back.

the ride back is quiet, the streets nearly empty as jj navigates the familiar roads. you stare out the window, your finger spinning your wedding band, mind racing with all the possibilities of what comes next.

you wonder how it will be when you walk through that door. will he be surprised to see you? will he be angry? will he apologize? the questions swirl in your mind, but you push them aside—you'll find out in a few minutes either way.

jj pulls up in front of the apartment building and turns to you, her expression gentle. “you don’t have to fix everything tonight,” she reminds you. “just… put all your cards on the table. don't sugarcoat anything.”

you nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and nervous anticipation. "thank you, jj," you say softly, giving her a small smile. "i don’t know what i would’ve done without you tonight."

she smiles back, her eyes warm with understanding. "you’ll be fine. just be honest, that’s all you can do."

with a final nod, you push the door open, the cold air immediately hitting you as you step out onto the sidewalk. your heart is pounding in your chest, each step towards the apartment feeling heavier than the last.

you twist the handle, it's unlocked, but you hesitate before pushing the door open, gathering your courage in the silent hallway. when you finally step inside, the apartment is quiet—but not empty. a single lamp illuminates the living room, casting long shadows across the walls.

and there's spencer, sitting on the couch hunched over with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

he looks up at the sound of the door, and for a brief moment, his face is completely unguarded. relief washes over his features, followed quickly by something that looks almost like fear. he stands immediately, his movements stiff and uncertain.

"you came back," he says, his voice hoarse.

you close the door behind you, still standing near the threshold. "i started feeling guilty." you sighed, jj's voice in the back of your head—just be honest.

spencer swallows, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again. "guilty?" he repeats, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

spencer exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “you shouldn't feel guilty," he murmurs, then shakes his head. "i mean, it makes sense,” he says quickly, his words picking up speed.

“studies show that guilt is often a response to perceived moral transgressions rather than actual wrongdoing. it’s the brain’s way of enforcing social cohesion—an evolutionary mechanism designed to maintain interpersonal relationships by making us feel responsible for potential harm, even when no actual harm has been inflicted.”

you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of disbelief and amusement as he rambled on. it was as if, in the middle of all this, the man you once knew had momentarily resurfaced. even if what he was saying wasn’t at all what you needed to hear right now, a part of you couldn't help but recognize the familiarity in it—the way he always got lost in his thoughts, trying to explain things when he didn’t quite know how to connect.

he shifts on his feet, his words picking up speed. “and in this case, your reaction makes perfect sense. you removed yourself from a heightened emotional situation in order to regulate your response, which, psychologically speaking, is a far healthier alternative to reactive conflict. but then, the cognitive dissonance sets in—the part where your brain tells you that leaving contradicts your usual patterns of behavior, and that discrepancy triggers guilt, even if logically—”

“spencer,” you interrupt gently.

his mouth snaps shut, and for a second, there’s just silence. a flicker of something vulnerable crosses his face, and you realize—he’s rambling because he doesn’t know what else to say. because this is easier for him than actually talking about what matters.

you step forward, closing a bit of the distance between you. “i don’t need an analysis,” you tell him gently. "i just want you to tell me what's going on."

spencer’s gaze flickers for a moment, like he’s trying to find the words, trying to make sense of the situation. "i never wanted you to feel like you needed to leave," he says, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “but i didn’t exactly make it easy for you to stay.”

you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, the weight of everything you haven’t said pressing heavily on your chest. "no, you didn’t," you admit, your voice just above a whisper.

his expression tightens, a flash of something—guilt, maybe—crossing his face before he looks away.

"i've been trying," he says quietly. "i have."

"have you?" the question comes out sharper than you intended, but you don't soften it. "because from where i'm standing, it feels like you've been doing everything possible to push me away."

spencer's gaze snaps back to you, a hint of defensiveness in his eyes. "that's not fair."

"isn't it?" you take another step forward, emboldened by the surge of emotions you've held back for too long. "you won't talk to me. you won't look at me. you won't even sit next to me on the couch. what am i supposed to think, spencer?"

he runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "it's not that simple," he says, his voice strained. "i want to be the person you remember, but i don't know if i can be that man anymore."

the admission hits you like a physical blow. "i'm not asking you to be exactly who you were before," you say softly. "i know that's not possible. i just... i need you to be present. to talk to me. to not shut me out completely."

spencer is quiet for a long moment, his gaze fixed on some point beyond you. when he finally speaks, his voice is barely audible. "i don't know how to explain what it was like in there."

your breath catches. this is the closest he's come to talking about prison since he's been home. you don't know if you should say something. you hold your breath, afraid that if you move or speak, he'll retreat again.

his eyes are distant, far away, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even aware of how much you’re hanging on his every word. finally, he exhales slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of it all is too much to bear.

“being in there… it broke something inside of me,” he says, voice low and strained. “i kept thinking about what it would be like to come back, to be here, with you. and then i just—" he paused for a moment. "i had to do something really bad. i had to do things in there that… things i never thought i would do."

"i hate myself for it. every second of it." his voice breaks on the last word, he shakes his head, hands shaking slightly as he runs them through his hair, frustration and guilt radiating from him.

"i wasn't just a victim in there—i became someone i don't even recognize anymore. i did things that went against everything i ever believed in, everything i told myself i would never do."

he looks at you now, and you can see the turmoil in his eyes—the deep-rooted shame and the self-loathing that’s consumed him. "and now i’m back here, with you, and i don’t even know who i am anymore. i’ve become this person who did unforgivable things. you don't deserve someone like me, someone who’s capable of—of that." he gestures vaguely, as if trying to encompass everything that’s happened to him.

"is that why you've been pushing me away?" you ask softly. "because you think i won't love who you are now?"

he doesn't answer, but the way he avoids your gaze tells you everything.

"baby," you whisper, shifting closer to him. "nothing could change how I see you."

you take a slow, unsteady breath, searching for the right words—any words—but everything feels inadequate. how do you explain something that goes beyond language?

"god, spencer," you exhale, shaking your head. "i wish i was better at this. i wish i had the right words, i wish i was some kind of poet, and that i could say the right things to make you understand, but i'm not."

you finally close the gap between you two and take his hands, gripping them tightly, pressing them against your chest as if somehow, if he just feels the way your heart beats for him, he’ll finally understand.

"it’s frustrating," you continue, voice thick with emotion. "because what i feel for you—it’s bigger than me. it’s bigger than words. i can’t explain it, and i hate that, because i need you to know. i need you to understand that this isn’t something breakable, something you can ruin, something you can chase away just because you think you should."

he swallows hard, his fingers curling around yours, but he doesn’t speak. maybe he can’t.

"i swear, spencer, if there was a way to pull this feeling out of me and give it to you, i would. if i could make you see yourself the way i see you, make you understand that what you did—what you had to do—doesn’t make you unworthy of love, i would do it in a heartbeat." your voice breaks slightly, tears now lining your eyes. "because i don’t just love you. it’s not that simple. it’s not just some feeling, some thing i could ever put into words. it’s more. it doesn’t begin or end with what you’ve done, or what’s happened to you, or who you think you’ve become. it just is."

he lets out a shaky breath, his eye are now wet, shining under the dim apartment light, his lips parted slightly like he wants to argue but can’t find the strength to. because maybe, just maybe, for the first time—he’s starting to believe you.

"i just wish—i wish you could feel it," you murmur, voice breaking. "i wish you could step into my skin, into my heart, and know how much i love you."

you don’t realize you’re crying until he reaches up, hesitantly, brushing his fingers against your cheek like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he touches you. his hand is shaking, but he doesn’t pull away.

spencer’s expression falters, something breaking inside of him, and when he finally—finally—pulls you into his arms, it’s not desperate or frantic. his arms wrap around you slowly, almost reverently, as though he's trying to let the feeling of your love wash over him, to understand it the way you do.

at first, it’s just the slightest tremble in his shoulders, so faint you almost miss it. but then you feel it—the shaky exhale against your neck, the way his fingers clutch at the fabric of your shirt like he’s afraid to let go. and then, slowly, silently, he starts to break.

his breath hitches, and before he can stop it, a quiet sob escapes him, muffled against your shoulder. his body shakes, all the pain and guilt unraveling all at once, and all you can do is hold him through it. his hands grasp at you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the present, like if he lets go, he’ll disappear into everything he’s been trying so hard to contain.

you don’t say anything. you don’t tell him it’s okay, because you know he wouldn’t believe it. or maybe because it isn't. but it will be. you'll make sure of that.

your fingers thread through his hair, your lips press against his temple, and you whisper the same words over and over, a promise and a lifeline: "i love you. i love you. i love you."

you stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, the weight of everything that’s happened still lingering in the air between you. but it’s different now. lighter, somehow. not because everything is fixed—there are still conversations to have, wounds to tend to, pieces of him he hasn’t shown you yet.

but for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re on the same side again. you’re not standing in separate corners, silently blaming each other for things you can’t control.

the weight in your chest, the anxiety that has gnawed at you since that day you got the call about him being detained, begins to fade. you don’t need to fix everything tonight. you don’t need to have all the answers.

his breathing begins to steady, the tears slowing, but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a raw whisper as he says the only thing he can in this moment. “i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes for a moment, exhaling softly. “i know,” you whisper.

there's a beat of silence. "i've been having nightmares," he says, his voice so low you have to strain to hear him. "almost every night. that's where i go sometimes—i walk before going to bed. i walk so that i'm exhausted enough that my mind shuts down."

the sudden admission breaks your heart—but there's also a part of you that feels relief. relief that he wasn't turning to something worse or someone else to numb the pain.

"spencer, you could have told me." you said, fingers rubbings patterns into his back.

"i didn't want to burden you more than i already have," he says, shaking his head. "you've already been through so much because of me."

"that's not how this works," you say, squeezing his hand. "just forget all of that, okay? things will be different now. you not talking to me hurts more than that ever could."

he leans into you, his eyes closing for a brief moment. "i'm sorry," he whispers. "for pushing you away. for making you feel like you weren't enough. you've always been enough."

you lift a hand to his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you take in the exhaustion lining his features—the weight he’s been carrying alone for too long. slowly, carefully, you lean in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. just a warm, quiet reassurance that you’re here, that you’re staying.

when you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, and he lets out a quiet sigh, his breath warm against your skin. he looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "do you want to go to bed?" he asks, voice low.

you pause for a moment, you hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were until his mention of sleep. your shoulders feel heavy, and your body aches from the emotional toll it’s taken.

a deep, almost instinctual sigh escapes your lips, and you nod softly, “yeah."

spencer squeezes your hand gently and leads you toward the bedroom. the moment the covers are pulled back, you slip under the soft sheets, the cool fabric against your skin offering the smallest comfort after everything you've been through. spencer follows you in, his body warm and reassuring as he settles beside you.

he moves closer, carefully wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten. you rest your head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding you. his presence, steady and constant, washes over you like a balm, soothing the frantic, scattered thoughts in your mind.

his hand moves slowly up and down your back, the rhythm soothing, and you realize just how much you've missed this—missed him.

you close your eyes, letting the weight of everything melt away as you drift closer to sleep. spencer’s voice is soft, a comforting murmur as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"i love you."

[pepshee]

Jealousy, or Jealous Hee: Second First Dates

⋆˙ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Pairing - ex!heeseung x fem!reader Genre - smut, a bit of fluff, angst Synopsis - After you hooked up with you ex-boyfriend, Heeseung, who had broken up with you out of the blue you didn't know what would happen afterward. Will you finally get your answer as to why? Word Count - 5.4k Warnings - cursing, mentions of alcohol, a bit of angst towards the end, smut, reader is insecure, mentions of manipulation and peer pressure, heeseung is an asshole in the first half, some cringe (oops), mentions of Jake & other idols, mentions of possessive heeseung, heeseung is desperate and begs for forgiveness, a little fluff, cream pie, fingering, p in v, plot twist-ish?, lmk if I missed anything!! MDNI 18+ A/N: thank you guys for the love on the first part i really appreciate it 😭 i didn't expect ppl to actually like it but im really glad you did! also if you have c.ai, i make bots over there too! my invite code here! also.. please keep in mind this is only my second time ever writing a fanfic so if it's ass in your opinion then idk what to tell you... i hope you do enjoy tho thank you in advance for reading !! <3 (even if you didn't like it)

PART ONE HERE

Waking up in your own dorm after you had hooked up with your ex at a house party last night wasn't what you expected. You thought you'd be next to him, but of course, that was crushed. At least he was a gentleman and brought you home, right? There was one question that lingered in your mind, what happens now? It was disappointing not waking up next to him, but then again, what did you really expect?

You get up out of your bed seeing your roommate's bed is empty, but then the smell of bacon hits you, she must be cooking. After getting dressed you make your way to the kitchen, you are so glad your university was at least prestigious so they had bigger dorms than the average one. You had a raging headache, as expected from the alcohol. "Hey Giselle," your voice a bit scratchy due to having just woken up.

Giselle turns around, you can see the slight concern in her eyes but also a hint of a smirk. "Y/N, you're up," she says softly, however, you still had a ton of questions in your mind. "What happened last night?" You're a bit embarrassed at the fact you had to even ask that question.

"Well.. After we went to the party we all split up and I assume you went to drink alcohol, cause the next thing we knew you were being brought out of the party by Heeseung. You were completely asleep, nothing woke you up," your face heats up a bit at the memory of getting drunk and hooking up with your ex-boyfriend who fucked you over. "Right.. and did he tell you any details about anything..” You hoped that he didn’t because it would be even more embarrassing for your friends to know you had sex with your ex who fucked you over.

Those hopes are immediately crushed by Giselle’s reply, “Y/N you were so drunk you had sex with Heeseung, your fucking ex and you don’t even remember it,” she chuckles at the end of her sentence. 

Damn.. Well, now your friends know you hooked up with your ex-boyfriend.

“It was an accident..” 

“Y/N it’s okay to want him back, but..” she paused for a moment emphasizing the word ‘but.’ “You shouldn’t let him get it so easily,” she continued. 

Then an idea hit you, seduction.

“Giselle holy shit,” she perked up at your words while she plated the breakfast she just finished making for the two of you. 

“What'd you think of girl?”

“I’m gonna post slightly revealing photos of myself on my Instagram story with little subtle jabs at him like he does to me, I’m gonna get back at him by showing him what he made himself lose,” you couldn't stop the grin that formed on your face.

“You mean you’re gonna ‘show him what he’s missing?' Isn’t that super cliché?” she might be right.. But he did it first.

“Well he’s been posting his new girls to make me jealous, so why don’t I try seducing him, and if he messages me I just play hard to get. Like you said, I shouldn’t let him get to me so easily,” you relayed your reasoning for the idea and you see Giselle think for a moment considering your words. “Okay you know what, maybe it is a good idea, after all, he fucked you over,” she almost started grinning. 

After having eaten the breakfast Giselle cooked, you ran to your closet to pull over any sort of revealing clothes you had. You find a slightly-too-small black tank top, and grey shorts. You had originally planned on being comfy today since you were still hungover—you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, but you quickly change into the tank top and the shorts and then did your makeup.

You decided to take a selfie in bed, and so you lay down and grabbed your phone. You swiped right to open your camera, and you positioned it in a way where it would show your cleavage just enough so that it's not obvious.

It took you a bit to get the perfect one, but when you did, you open Instagram and thought of a caption to put.

'i miss you. missing you is hard, but i bet missing me makes you hard'

You knew it was definitely cringe, but it got your point across so you could live with the cringe right?

You'd clicked the 'Add to story' button almost too fast. You and Heeseung don't follow each other anymore but you know he stalks your account. He uses his friend's account to do it without it being suspicious, which you can't blame him because why else would you have Giselle's password if not to stalk your ex-boyfriend cause he stalks you?

After logging into Giselle's account you tapped on Heeseungs story to see what he had posted. You immediately regret your decision because you're met with a photo of him and his friends, with alcohol, snacks, and of course, Heeseung is with a girl. He even had the audacity to put 'this could've been you' god this asshole doesn't know when to stop does he?

He was just being nice to you last night after you hooked up, why does he keep doing this to you? Once again with the taunting...

You were so lucky not to have Saturday classes, it meant you could go anywhere you wanted to. Believe it or not, you were actually majoring in dance, and even though you didn't have to go to classes, you still at least wanted to go to the studio.

────୨ৎ────

Dancing was therapeutic to you, everyone told you not to do it as your major because it wouldn't take you anywhere they said to just leave it a hobby. However, before you even graduated college you had offers from Idol companies trying to scout you. Usually, you would have celebrated that with Heeseung but that obviously wasn't an option.

You had spent a few hours dancing and you were getting really hungry and tired so you sprayed some perfume and reapplied deodorant before grabbing your bag and leaving the studio.

You didn't want to go out to eat so you decided to settle on the on-campus cafeteria which thankfully makes decent food. It was just about lunch time so it was quite packed there. You walked up to one of the counters and looked at the menu, but you still couldn't quite see so you took a couple of steps back until you felt your back hit something... or was it, someone?

The hands that flew to your waist were a clear indicator of who it was without even needing to turn around, it was him.

Too petrified to turn around, you just stand there frozen, not knowing what to do.

"You think you're slick huh? I saw what you posted on Instagram, it's about me, isn't it? In that case, you may be right," It's like your whole body failed to react, it didn't know how to. "I will say, whatever you're trying to do, it's working," he leaned down to whisper that into your ear.

Before you can respond he lets go and walks away, finally turning around to watch him leave. What is his problem?

You ordered your food, which was tteokbokki and kimbap.

Throughout your lunch you keep thinking about what had happened with Heeseung, did he do it on purpose? There's no way he was just coincidentally there right?

Whatever his reasoning was, you didn't care, he was trying to get to you.

When you finished your lunch you didn't know what else to do today so instead you figured you'd at least hang out with your friends so you took out your phone.

────୨ৎ────

It didn't take long for you all to agree on the mall, and you're currently waiting for the others to arrive. You and Giselle had gone together since you're roommates so you were just waiting for Karina, Yujin, and Moka. Minnie wasn't able to make it since she had a test to study for.

A little while longer the other three finally arrived, the five of you walking through the mall and looking through various stores.

You decided to take this as an opportunity to buy more clothes to fuck with Heeseung. The clothes you were buying were either the slightest bit too small, making them tight so they cling to your curves, or showed some sort of skin, some a lot, some just enough that would make him crazy.

You see, one thing about Heeseung is while you two were dating he was such a sweetheart when you two were in public, but as soon as you got home is when his possessive side would show. He'd recount all the times a man looked at you a bit too much or too closely and he'd fuck your brains out.

That was one of your favorite things, how good he'd fuck you when you wore crop tops, skirts, shorts, or tank tops. He didn't control what you'd wear, he let you do whatever, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't wear revealing clothes in public on purpose cause you were horny for him to fuck you at home.

Any other time he was a sweetheart, he was perfect, he wouldn't hurt a fly but when you had sex that all went out the window.

Now, however, you're buying revealing clothes to piss him off, to make him break, to get revenge, to make him beg for mercy.

You felt as if this revenge plan was a bit bland, but you couldn't think of anything else but to just drive him insane.

You and the girls had a lot of fun, and got told to shut up a few times from laughing too loud... but at least you have had fun.

It was 8 PM by the time you and Giselle made it back to the dorms. You made it just in time for curfew so you wouldn't get in trouble. You'd always thought it was stupid for a university to give adults a curfew, but it was pretty influential so you guess the university just didn't want its reputation ruined by their students dropping out to take care of babies.

Curfew didn't do anything anyway, you just couldn't leave your specific dorm building after 8:30 PM, you didn't know what would happen if you did it anyway but you honestly didn't care enough to find out.

────୨ৎ────

That morning when you woke up you immediately thought about what to wear to make Heeseung jealous, to make him mad.

You reached over and grabbed your phone and opened Instagram in order to check Heeseungs story, of course, he has a new one. You tap on it and see a video, clearly taken by a friend of his and it's him, with a new girl—because of course it is who fucking else could it be—the video was Heeseung and his new girl, who you identified as Julie Han. She was in your dance group, and she was really good and she's really pretty. You've always admired her beauty, but also felt a bit insecure. You wanted to be like her so badly. Heeseung didn't know that, or maybe he did considering you two broke up before you even had the chance to meet your classmates.

Seeing this rubbed even more salt into the wound, the girl you'd admired, and wanted to be friends with, and that made you feel insecure. Obviously it wasn't her fault you were insecure, she was super nice to you, and she didn't say anything to make you insecure it was just all in your head.

Seeing the video of him with Julie, he had his arm around her, and they were clearly flirting. It made your blood boil, but at the same time made your eyes water. You didn't know if you should be angry, or if you should cry.

You didn't know if it was on purpose, or if he was just doing his usual girl-to-girl shit. If he did know then he was a complete asshole for using her against you.

The truth is, he did know.

Yesterday, when you were walking to the cafeteria for lunch, you were recording a voice message to send to your friends. You had run into Julie while leaving the studio. That reminded you that you hadn't even told your friends about her so that's why you were recording a voice message.

Heeseung was with you, well not with you, rather.. behind you. He was walking with his friends, and he hadn't even realized it was you until you started speaking. He couldn't stop himself from eavesdropping and when he heard what you said about Julie, he knew exactly what to do.

He wanted you back, desperately, he knew you wouldn't easily accept him back into your life so he decided to try and make you desperate, just as much as he is. He used Julie, he wanted to make you as jealous as possible so you crawl back to him. When he saw your first story with the subtle jab at him and the cleavage he knew you were trying to clap back at him, you were trying to give him a taste of his own medicine. He'd be a liar if he said it wasn't working because it was. He hated that you had posted that, that you were revealing yourself to others. He knew he fucked up, and he knew he needed you back.

After you had seen the story of Julie and Heeseung you knew you had to strike again. You got out of bed and went to your closet grabbing one of the bags of new clothes you'd gotten yesterday. After dumping the clothes on your bed you finally picked out an outfit you knew would rile him up. It was a pair of white shorts, with a dark blue top. The top was pretty much a bralette, it's not something you'd wear out, but you bought it for the purpose of making Heeseung jealous—also in case you decided to go to the bar or another party—you went to your bathroom to do your hair and makeup before taking the photo.

After you finished those you posed in front of your mirror with your phone in hand. You tried doing poses that would show off your ass or would maximize the amount of skin you show in the picture.

Finally, after about 5-10 minutes you got the perfect shot, and you went straight to Instagram to post it.

With a small filter added, all you had to do was add the caption, but what should you even put? You had no clue honestly, you weren't as witty as you had originally thought.

Maybe posting it without a witty caption would be better, making less noise will create more noise.

So that's exactly what you did. You uploaded the photo to your story and waited. Waited for Heeseung to see it., until he did.

Heeseung went onto Instagram after he hung out with his friends, plus Julie, and he saw that you had posted on your story. He clicked on it and what he saw was something he expected, but also didn't. He hated that you were posting shit like this. He couldn't take it anymore, he slid up and started typing out a reply to your story.

It was about three hours after you had posted it when you got a notification while you were scrolling through tik tok.

'heeseung.lhs69 replied to your story: Y/N can you knock this off?'

Seeing the notification shocked you, first off why does he have '69' in his username? Is he serious? Since when did he have 7th-grade boy humor? It was probably the fault of his dumbass friends.

You didn't really know how to reply to him, but what matters is your plan worked. He fell for your bait finally.

you: what're you talking abt ?

hee: you know what I'm talking abt y/n

you: no i don't think i do heeseung

hee: we should talk in person y/n

you: ykw fine when and where

hee: ice cream place where we had our first date, 6 pm, today

you: k i'll see you then ig

Although it didn't seem like it, you were really nervous. He seemed serious even if it was just over text. It was only 4:30, so you had about an hour and thirty minutes to get ready or contemplate your choices, probably both.

You started getting ready, you didn't know how to dress really. You went for simple baggy jeans, a grey tank top, and a zip-up sweater. It was now 5:30, and so you left your dorm and started walking to said ice cream place.

After entering you saw him.. he was sitting at a booth. He looked quite nervous actually which is a big contrast to how you've been seeing him for two and a half years.

You slid into the seat in front of him and he immediately looked up from the table to look at you. "Hey," his voice was soft and gentle. You looked into his eyes, his soft, big doe eyes.. Looking into his eyes was your favorite activity when you were together, they were so beautiful. "Hey," you replied, also in a soft and gentle tone.

"I think we have to talk Y/N, I just want to explain myself," you let out a sigh knowing that he's right, you do have to talk. How could he leave you like that? "Explain it to me Heeseung, explain to me why you left me like the way you did," he was immediately saddened when you raised your voice a little at him.

"Y/N, I'll explain.. Please just calm down. I don't have a good reason.. Jake, my roommate, well we were talking and he told me about all the girls he's been with, and he asked me about how many girls he and I told him we've been together for five years and he started laughing. He then told me he was gonna invite a couple of friends, which he did," you didn't interrupt him the whole time. You just listened as he continued to talk.

"When they came over, it was four of them, Jake told them what I said about you and then they all started going on about how I'm too young to be tied down like that, I should live a little. I originally shot it down but they started giving me alcohol. The more they talked about the benefits of being single, and the more they talked about all the fun they have I started to believe them. I felt as though I was tying you down, I was a burden, that you'd be better off without me," you didn't know if you should be pissed off or pity him, he was influenced by his 'friends.'

"I started to believe what they were telling me, and they were telling me I should just let you go because you're probably getting bored. I was scared of the future, I was scared you'd break it off cause you were bored, and so I broke up with you first. I started doing all the things they did, hookup, smoke, drink, party and I did it all to move on from you," his story was making sense, that's 100% something his friends would do but you were still pissed at him.

"That doesn't explain to me why you didn't just think to talk to me and express your feelings to me. We could've talked this out, but you didn't even bother to text me," he sighed knowing you were right, and he didn't even have an excuse.

"I don't have an excuse, I'm an idiot Y/N. I love you so much and I wasn't thinking, they manipulated me, and I believed it all.. It was selfish of me and I know what I did was wrong. I hurt you and I'm just realizing it. It took me this long to realize how much of an asshole I was, my actions weren't okay," he looked back down at the table like he was in shame.

"Why would you post girls in your story though? I know it was to make me jealous, your story makes sense but that part doesn't add up," honestly you believed his story. He's always been quite gullible and pliable. Obviously, you never used that as an advantage, you'd never take advantage of him.

"Well... I wanted you back but I didn't know how to contact you.. How to communicate it, how to get through to you. When you posted that on your story earlier I couldn't hold back. I know you've been using Giselle's account to view my story, and that's not exactly relevant, but I've been doing it cause I miss you, and I want you. My new persona, it's all fake. I don't like doing this stuff. I just wanted to fit in and forget about you, I was depressed and vulnerable when Jake started doing what he was doing. I love you, I miss you, I want you, and I don't have any good excuses."

He's right, his excuse isn't exactly good, he knows he fucked up, and did you wrong. He had no actual good excuse, he had no actual reason for the thing with the girls.

"You should've just talked to me Heeseung," you were disappointed in him, and you resented him. "I know Y/N, I'm an idiot, and I made a selfish, vulnerable mistake. Please, I want you to forgive me, I want to be with you again, I want to be with you forever," those last few words were kind of shocking to you. Did he mean that? You both had discussed marriage and the future briefly and that ended in a big argument so it was never brought up again.

"What are you even saying?"

"I'm saying I see a future with you, and I know we had a huge fight about the future which also led to our break up, but I'm serious. I want you back. Please," he didn't stutter, not one bit and that solidified his point. He was serious.

"Okay, but you still hurt me, you still did all these bad things that made you an asshole. I can't just forget what you did to me," he was so, so desperate for you, so desperate to get you back to him. "Please."

He kept repeating himself,

"Please Y/N,"

"Please,"

It was almost pathetic how he was begging, how he was so desperate, but at the same time, it was so sexy. You had never seen him beg you before, he'd always been the top. You looked into his eyes, and he was staring right back at you waiting for a response.

It was difficult, you didn't know if you should forgive him, after all, he happened to fall in with the wrong crowd, he was manipulated, he was molded.

"Heeseung, you still fucked me over, you still ruined me, and broke my heart. Don't you know how hard this is?" he nodded, he knew you'd be hesitant. He never expected you to give in immediately and he knew he would have to convince you. However, there was one detail he left out, one that would change everything.

"Y/N, there was a detail I left out, and it seems that you completely forgot that you also played a part in this. You're not completely innocent," you were confused, how could that even be?

"When Jake was giving me alcohol and convincing me of all these things, I texted you, I needed you, I needed your support in that moment, and I know you weren't busy either. You ignored me, ignored me when I needed you most. That, plus all the manipulation, it broke me, it made me send that text, made me spiral into who I am now," holy shit. He was right.

Nearly three years ago, two days before your first day as a college freshman, you were decorating your dorm. You and Giselle went shopping for decorations and you weren't busy at all that whole day which Heeseung knew.

You had seen the notifications coming in, you read them and you didn't reply. You remember the texts, you remember it all.

'y/n i need you rn'

'babe pls reply'

'i need you please im serious y/n pls respond'

You were so caught up in your dorm decorations, and shopping you ignored Heeseung when he needed you the most, when he needed you to save him.

You weren't busy, you just simply didn't reply.

It was partly your fault.

"Heeseung.." now it was your turn to beg, to ask for forgiveness, and it didn't feel very good. "I'm so sorry, it's my fault. I saw the texts and I just ignored them, and I don't know why. You needed me, you needed help, and I wasn't there.. Holy shit," you wanted to reach for his hand, to hold him, but you knew you didn't have the right to.

"Y/N, I needed you, I really did, and you weren't there. We both fucked up, we both contributed to the end of our relationship. What matters is that I realized what was happening, that I changed for the worst, and that I realized that they had manipulated me, and peer pressured me. We both messed it up, and I want to fix it, please," his words resonated with you and he was absolutely correct. You both fucked up.

"What do we do? Do you mean you want to get back together?" you were hoping he would say yes, you did want to get back with him, I mean that was literally the whole goal.

"Yes, I want you to be mine again, I still love you, I never stopped," you immediately nodded in response telling him you also wanted to be back together.

"I missed you, babe," the nickname had always made your heart flutter but hearing it after all these years that's not in the context of a one-night stand made your cheeks heat up.

It felt like your first date all over again, you're even in the same place, a second first date.

"Let's go back to my dorm, Jake isn't there, and he won't return till like the afternoon tomorrow," you nodded and got up. He grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the ice cream shop and back towards campus.

After you arrived at his dorm he couldn't hold himself back and immediately crashed his lips to yours. You instantly started kissing him back. It felt more real this time, it was filled with love, passion, and longing.

You felt your back hit the wall as his hands grabbed onto your hips, and your fingers got lost in his hair.

He broke away from the kiss before grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it off of you. "You've been driving me insane, you know, with those revealing photos of yours. Especially the one of your cleavage. I missed your tits so bad baby," his hands grab your clothed tits. You can feel him reach behind your back and make quick work of the clasp he was clearly skilled.

When he got it off you could feel his mouth attach to one of your nipples. You let out a small moan which just egged him on. "Hee— please," he let go of your nipple and looked into your eyes, but that didn't last long because he immediately started kissing your neck, and biting it gently while he unbuttoned your jean shorts.

"Shit I missed this so fucking much Y/N," you clenched around nothing at his words, you could feel that your underwear was ruined, and how drenched they were, and so could he.

Once he got your shorts off he threw them somewhere in the room, it didn't even matter. You felt his hands trace your underwear and touched your clothed pussy. He let out a groan at the feeling of how wet you were, "holy shit Y/N, you're so fucking wet already," he took your hand dragging you to his bed. He debated doing it on Jake's bed for revenge, but he didn't want any more problems or misunderstandings, he just wanted you.

Now you were lying on his bed with him hovering above you. This time it felt more real, it felt more passionate rather than when you were drunk and stupid.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and pulled it off, and when he did you got shy and tried to close your legs but he wouldn't let you. He gripped your thighs and pulled them apart again giving him a view of your bare, dripping pussy. The look of pure hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

He ran one of his hands down your thigh, then to your inner thigh, and finally reached your core. He ran a finger through your folds teasing your entrance. You were so desperate you couldn't help but moan.

The wetness of your cunt made him groan, and his pants tighten. He stuck one finger in, and then a second. The intrusion made you moan and squirm, but that only made him smirk.

He thrusted his fingers in and out of you slightly curling them to hit that spot that makes you scream.

"Fuck— Right there Heeseung!" You moan out.

"Yeah? You like that baby?" He chuckled a little, and the smirk on his face grew.

He continued to move his fingers and started going even faster. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach start to tighten and you knew what was coming. "Heeseung.. Shit," he nodded slowly and spoke "Come on, cum on my fingers baby," his words made you clench around his fingers before you finally reached your limit with a moan loud enough you were sure the neighboring dorms could hear.

Both yours and his breathing were fast and heavy. He was still hovering above you while he looked at your face which was covered in a thin layer of sweat. "Can you take my cock, or are you completely spent?" He asked the question in a soft tone not wanting to hurt you or overwhelm you.

"I need your cock Heeseung," the softness in his eyes instantly left now replaced with a look of desire, and lust. "Then that's exactly what you're gonna get baby," he started removing his clothing starting with his shirt, then his belt, his pants, and finally his boxers.

When he took his boxers off you couldn't stop staring at his dick. The thick, long, veiny shaft was one you had missed in these past years. "I can see you staring my love," you couldn't even stop yourself and you just kept staring.

He gave himself a couple of pumps spreading the precum along his shaft. He then lined himself up with your entrance, he hesitated for a moment looking at you, "Do you want it rough, or slow?"

"Please give it to me rough," he didn't give you a second to think before he pushed inside of you quickly, and immediately bottomed out.

"Fuck!" You moaned out at the feeling of the stretch of your hole from his cock.

He grabbed your thighs tightly allowing him to thrust into you more efficiently. You felt him hit your G-spot every time he moved in and out. You felt your climax approaching and you bucked your hips as he groaned feeling you clench around him.

You finally went over the edge and came onto his cock, while you felt him release into you. His thrusts slowed to help you ride out your orgasm before he slowly pulled out, making you whine at the empty feeling.

He kissed your lips before lying down next to you. You turned to look at him and you stared into each other's eyes, a soft smile forming on his lips. "Goodnight my love, I missed you so much. I won't fuck this up."

You were going to respond but the exhaustion caught up to you and you fell asleep in his arms, for the first time in years as his girlfriend.

TAGLIST : @clandestineself @kittympirty @azzy02 @wemalyri @jayhoonvroom @hwangswife4

[234moon]

I’ll admit a thing. Prior to Haikavetham I thought that Hoyoverse wasn’t interested in developing MLM ships too much. I was okay with that too because yuri gets less attention anyway and HYV was obsessively focused on it. But there was always that fear in me that their obsession with WLW ships was likely somewhat inspired by fetishisation.

But then Haikavetham came along and shattered that assumption for me. I thought no other MLM HYV ship could possibly come close to it but Phaidei is actually insane. You can see that this company, with their limitations even because of censorship, is trying pretty hard to make a good MLM ship that fans can decipher easily.

3.1 spoilers up ahead. And this post is absolutely an excuse to collate “evidence” for how gay Phaidei is

1. Phainon and Mydei being parallels to Kephale and Nikador (respectively), and also possibly being inheritors to their coreflame (Phainon left but it’s almost confirmed). Where Nikador allegedly fell in love with Kephale, who is their rival and fought them. A very direct parallel to Phaidei

2. But it’s less about their parallels and more about what they do at present in the story. The most conspicuous incident of this is the last part of 3.1’s quest, where they’re parting. Firstly, Phainon is the last person Mydei met. He was the last farewell Mydei wanted to give before he left. Secondly, when they do talk, Phainon asks this

To which Mydei first replies that the Kremnoan philosophy can never be encapsulated in a dictionary. And then he says this

Don’t tell me this doesn’t read like Phainon worried that the word for romance really doesn’t exist in the Kremnoan language but hoping that it does. Because language makes culture. And as a Kremnoan, that should mean, at least in theory, that Mydei is not fully capable of romance. But this reads like Phainon knowing they have feelings for each other, and teasing Mydei about it. Like “hey I know you say romance doesn’t exist in the Kremnoan language but you definitely like me so you’re probably lying”. Because why would this be one of his parting sentences? It’s too irrelevant at the moment.

Add to this what Mydei says in the end. Don’t tell me this doesn’t read like the most classic doomed gay ship trope! Because it is!! It is!!!!

(Also I don’t know how many people noticed this but when Mydei says the last sentence, his tone is uncharacteristically soft)

3. This GIF.

I can’t stop thinking about it. Phainon knows Mydei has his back (and vice versa because… lol). Phainon feels absolute relief knowing Mydei is with him, and they will fight together. Phainon trusts him, and Mydei trusts Phainon even more.

There is also this scene.

Since my post is getting long I’ll recommend reading a small breakdown of it here (much better explained than I could). They have each other’s backs, and they trust each other with everything. Also the way Mydei says “found you”. I cried.

4. Including their lives!

What an insane scene man. Reveal your proverbial Achilles heel to one man and one man only, who coincidentally happens to be the man who you trust watching your back.

5. They help each other get better. Not much explanation needed but Phainon and Mydei understand each other deeply, and they understand the other’s desires and even masked feelings. Phainon helped Mydei make that final decision that he needed to change the lives of Kremnoans and be a better king (by recommending he go to Chartonus, to whom Phainon had relayed details about Gorgo’s signet ring)

And Mydei helps Phainon with this

There is, of course, a lot more “evidence”. The smallest of expressions (like damn Mydei smiles a lot around Phainon lol) to it being heavily implied their comfort zone is each other. My point, though, is that I’m very impressed by a Chinese company willingly making so much implied gay content despite censorship restricting them. Phaidei has become another one of those iconic HYV ships for me at least.

Btw, if you see this post, please don’t add “but they could be friends-“ I’m aware and it’s a redundant argument. There is a very thin line separating platonic and romantic love. Yes this could be an example of a beautifully higher level of platonic love. But I choose to read this as romantic because I trust in a game company known for making heavily implied gay couples to have made another one.

And please do not treat this as discourse despite how I started it!! This is about Phaidei and I wanted to give a background about why I think they’re pretty gay

[maybege]

Take-Off - FBI 14

Summary: Your nightly rendezvous with Morgan has some unexpected consequences.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: CM typical stuff

I love how I said this would be out by mid-January and yet here we are … Anyway, sorry not sorry. I had to move back to my parents for like 6-ish weeks, my country’s election resulted in a drastic shift towards conservative/right-wing policies and January (being the awful month that it is) had my depression returning for an unwanted sequel, you know how it is. Anyway, Part 15 is not yet finished so idk when it will be out but rest assured I am thinking about Hotch and I hope that after reading this next chapter you do too! Let me know what you think 🥰

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

There was still sleep in your eyes as you made your way from the car to the elevator, searching for your badge in your purse. “Thank you for letting me sleep at your place,” you said, looking over at Derek, “I – I have no idea how this would have panned out if not for you.”

Derek pressed the button and the metal doors closed before the little jolt of the cabin notified you of the movement.

“We are all here for you, kid,” he smiled, “You are one of us, you hear me? Anyone in that office would help you if they could. Garcia, Rossi, Reid, Hotch,” – your heart jumped at that – “Prentiss, me. All of us, okay?”

The elevator stopped, and you smiled. “Okay.”

Arriving at the office was nothing like what you had imagined your glorious return from PTO to feel like. For one, you had seen yourself wearing a glamorous new outfit that showed everyone just how happy you were to be back and how confident you were in returning to your post. Most importantly, it would’ve given you the emotional support to think that Hotch’s presence wouldn’t have any impact on your confidence.

Admittedly, what you had not thought about during your holiday was what it would look like to your colleagues when you and Derek would arrive at the same time, both carrying coffee mugs that said his name, and his shirt thrown over a dress that you clearly had not planned on wearing.

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest?” JJ teased you, rounding the corner of your desk to sit down opposite you, “Disappearing without another word to get some,” she drew bunny ears in the air, “relaxing and,” – another set of bunny ears – “soul-searching done and now you show up with Morgan? Way to go, my friend.”

“Shut up,” Derek laughed, throwing back the last of his coffee, “You don’t want to know what she looks like under that shirt.”

You laughed, too, your heart feeling fuller by the minute of being surrounded by your team again. “It really isn’t –”

“You look like shit,” Emily greeted you dryly, a teasing smile on her lips as she crossed her arms, “Was it worth it at least?”

“We have no time for small talk,” Hotch’s voice sounded from the door to the conference room, “Everyone at the roundtable now.”

It should have stopped being surprising how put together he could look in the middle of the night, but your eyes still lingered on the white shirt he was wearing, how his tie seemed a little loose and how that was the only indicator that maybe it had been a little too early for him as well.

Reid and Rossi were already at the table when you entered and you sat down next to the older man with a smile. He threw a pointed look at your shirt and he did not even need to open his mouth for you to know what he was about to say.

“Shut up,” you grinned and he only laughed, good-naturedly patting your knee when JJ threw on the presentation.

“Alright, we have a child abduction in Montana,” Hotch opened. The image of a teenage girl was projected onto the wall. Blonde, blue eyes, preppy cheerleader outfit.

“Grace Donovan, 15 years old, was last seen at dinner with her parents when they reported her missing two hours ago.”

“It’s the middle of the night, how do they know she is missing?” you asked, frowning at the image, “Are they sure she is not out with her friends?”

You watched as Hotch opened his mouth to say something when his eyes met yours. And then they roamed over you, landing on the shirt you were wearing and Derek next to you and you could see the frown forming on his face.

Shit.

“She is not in her room and none of her friends know where she is,” JJ answered smoothly, not having noticed Hotch’s pause, “That and the security system seems to have been tampered with. This is beyond anything a fifteen-year-old could do.”

You nodded, looking down at the table and trying to avoid Hotch’s eyes on you.

“All right,” he said, throwing a look at his watch, “Wheels up in 10. We have 22 hours left.”

He caught up to you at the door, a dry hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you back into the room. If the others noticed, they did not show it, simply leaving the room as Hotch pulled you back to the front.

The blinds were still closed, you noticed, and as the door fell closed behind JJ, you were completely alone with him. Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes completely taking him in. Standing tall at the end of the desk, he eyed you and your skin tingled wherever his eyes seemed to land – your calves, your thighs, your torso, your face.

When you had handed in your PTO request after an entire week of being ignored by him, you had fooled yourself into thinking that maybe distance was what you needed. That distance would get you to see him in another light and not the one where you thought about what dirty things his voice could whisper in your ears late at night.

Clearly, the racing of your heart proved that that was not the case. That even time and distance away from him didn’t get rid of the sudden need to feel his arms around you. Or his lips on yours. Or his hand between your –

Until he opened his mouth.

“Need I remind you of the fraternisation policies the FBI has in place, Agent?”

“Hotch –“

“I understand that you have been gone for two weeks and, quite frankly, it should be none of my business what you two get up to in your private time so make sure it remains none of business. Understood?”

“It – it’s not what it looks like!” you protested, knowing what must have been going through his head. But what was worse was that you weren’t sure if you wanted to convince him of the truth because of the FBI rules or because you wanted him to know the truth.

He made a big step towards you and you gasped, feeling his body heat radiate so close to you, “And what does it look like?”

You could not say anything, the lack of sleep and confusion at Hotch’s angry demeanour catching up with you. You could not remember the last time you had seen him so upset at you. Openly upset.

“I see you, wearing clothes that clearly have been worn a whole,” he started again, his voice cutting through the silence, “Shorter hem than usual, deeper cleavage, formfitting. Obviously showing off the best parts of your body. On top of that, I see a shirt that clearly does not belong to you. When I called Derek at four in the morning, he said JJ needn’t contact you because you were already there with him, which leads me to believe that this,” he tugged at one of the buttons, “is Agent Morgan’s shirt. Am I wrong?”

Had he just said you were attractive?

He scoffed, “I didn’t think so. So now, what does it look like?”

“Josh kicked me out,” you blurted out, swallowing thickly at how close he was to you, “Derek found me in a diner after, uh,” slowly you lifted the hem of the shirt, revealing the red-yellowish condiment massacre on the fabric, “He gave me his couch to crash on.”

Hotch did not say anything, a tiny furrow between his brows. You glanced down and saw his forefinger and thumb pressed together.

“I know the FBI rules, Hotch,” you continued with a small voice, “And I, uh, I am really not interested in Morgan like that. He was a friend when I needed one.”

“Why were you in a diner of all places?” he asked.

“I – I didn’t know who to call,” you shrugged, “I was emotional and confused and it was the closest thing that was dry and warm and open.”

For the longest time, he did not say anything and you kept looking at him. Your hand was still in his and sometime during his speech they must have slipped from your wrist to interlace with your fingers and you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

He was so close.

“Next time you call me,” he said slowly, his other hand going to grab something from the inner pocket of his jacket.

You looked down at the little white square in his hands, “I already have your business card, Hotch,” you reminded him gently.

“This is, uh,” he cleared his throat, letting go of your hand like it was burning him, “This is my personal contact information.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly, looking at him with wide eyes before the reality of the situation hit you, “oh.”

You took the offered card, keeping it close to your chest as if he would decide to snatch it away from you any second. “Thank you,” you mumbled, cheeks and ears warm as your heart began to race, “I should probably go and – “

“Yes,” he nodded slowly, “You probably should.”

*

Hotch did not know what he had been thinking when he confronted you in the conference room.

He probably had not been thinking at all.

And when was the last time that had happened?

The team was quiet as everyone found their place on the jet, settling into their respective routines. Even after years of work, late-night and early-morning calls never got any easier. And despite the worry for the missing girl on everyone’s mind, exhaustion was slowing everyone down.

The first talk over the files had already happened as soon as the jet had started. Now all they needed was to wait.

“We won’t get any new information until we are there,” he announced, “So everybody get some rest while you can.”

General murmurs of agreement sounded all around him and as he set up his laptop on the table in front of him, he saw Reid settling down on the couch, Derek and JJ sitting opposite each other, each occupied with their own books while Emily seemed to be choosing which playlist to listen to.

He tried to ignore the fact that the only free seats now were with him and Rossi.

“How long will the flight be?” your voice piped up from the galley way at the back of the plane. You were wearing different clothes now. Jeans and a colourful blouse. Flowers, he recognised at a second glance at the same time as he turned away, because why did he need a second glance?

“Come join us,” Rossi offered, opposite to him and motioned to the seat right next to Hotch. His jaw tensed but he kept his eyes on the laptop screen, trying to focus on what the PD had already sent him.

“Thank you,” you smiled, sitting down next to him and he tried to ignore how your thigh brushed against his.

“Tired, huh?” Rossi commented motioning to his face, “You got that look of someone who had a long night.”

“Well, it is five in the morning, Rossi,” you answered good-naturedly, “I don’t think any of us have gotten enough sleep tonight.”

“Right, you are,” the older man said, reaching into his bag in the seat next to him,

Silence fell over the jet. “What are you doing?” you asked quietly, looking up at him. Not because you wanted to, obviously, but because you tried to show him you were not trying to look at government documents without his permission. And the soft look in your eyes, he argued, was just because you were tired.

“The responsible detective sent over some of his personal notes from the first victim,” He explained, his fingers tingling as he remembered how your hand had felt in his, “I wanted to get a head start on them.”

You hummed in understanding. “Always working, Agent Hotchner.”

His lips quirked up, “Is that critique I hear, Agent?”

“Sorry, Sir,” you grinned, a sparkle in your eyes that made his heart jump in his chest in a way he had not experienced in a very long time.

This was going to be a long flight.

And well, if your head fell onto his shoulder while you were sleeping, who was he to wake you?