#it was a fleeting thought but it stays with me forever

[lottins-only]

CROSS THE LINE | Jude Bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader, unnamed fictional RM player x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: after a fallout with your boyfriend, you find solace in a spontaneous night at the movies, where you run into his golden boy teammate. one thing leads to another and you cross the line.

A/N: first judith fic!! this was really fun to write. (very loosely) based on guilty as sin by taylor swift. let me know what yall think <3

warnings: infidelity (i don't condone it yall its just fun to write morally gray characters 🫣)

someone once told you there’s no such thing as bad thoughts – that it’s your actions that truly define you.

you wonder what they’d say if they saw you now: sitting up in bed with your boyfriend sound asleep beside you, staring at your phone with a pounding heart, silently hoping, waiting, for a message from someone else.

you wait and wait, but there’s nothing. your home screen stays empty, mocking you. you glance at your boyfriend. his shallow breathing fills the quiet room, steady and oblivious.

he has no idea you came home at 3 a.m. wearing his teammate’s jacket.

you'd stuffed it in the back of your closet as soon as you got home, a relic of a night that shouldn’t have happened. you'd scrubbed yourself thoroughly in the shower, trying to wash away the smell of jude’s cologne that clung to your skin. but it’s still there. not on your skin anymore, but in your mind, stamped into your memory to stay forever. 

the way the flickering lights from the movie theater screen cast shadows on his beautiful face, the fleeting feeling of his warm hands on yours as he handed you his jacket, the full body rumble of his laugh, the feel of his soft lips on yours.

you will never forget. how could you, when that was the first time in months you’d felt seen? desired. wanted. needed. it’s an intoxicating feeling, like stepping into the sunlight after living in the shadows for the longest time.

and now, staring at your phone, you feel it all over again. the pull. the wrongness of it all.

a buzz breaks the silence. your heart jumps into your throat as the screen lights up and a single message appears.

jude: you got home safe?

it’s innocent enough. simple. harmless.

you could ignore it. pretend you didn’t see it. block his number and put an end to whatever this is before it spirals into something else.

but instead, your fingers move on their own accord.

you: yeah. thanks for checking.

you press send before you can stop yourself. you lock your phone and put it on the bedside table before closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep.

to your credit, none of this was planned. it all starts earlier that night. you and your boyfriend are supposed to have a date night, a rare opportunity to spend some alone time together. you pick out a dress he once says is his favorite and make a dinner reservation at his favorite spot.

but plans change quickly.

“babe, the guys just texted,” he says, barely looking up from his phone. “they’re hopping on fifa in a bit. you don’t mind if we raincheck, right?”

you stare at him dumbfounded as he flops down onto the couch.

“raincheck?” your voice trembles, the tears obvious, yet he doesn’t even glance at you.

“yeah. just tonight, we’ll do something soon,” he says dismissively.

it’s not the first time he’s blown you off, but tonight it stings a little more. maybe it’s the fact that he’s so indifferent to you and your feelings, he doesn’t even care to notice the relationship is teetering on the edge of a cliff. he doesn’t realize that you’re making an effort to save it while he’s unknowingly contributing to its unraveling.

you realized it too late, but you know now you’re not a partner to him, not really. you’re a glorified accessory, someone he can show off for external validation, a dependable constant in his life that’s only there to cheer him on and make him look good while he gives his attention and energy to the things he actually cares about: his friends, his family, and above all, his football.

it wasn’t like this in the beginning, but things changed quickly after he made the move to real madrid and became a bigger star. with every goal, every headline, and every paparazzi photo, you sank further into the background of his life.

you linger for a moment, waiting for him to change his mind, to look up and realize what he’s doing. but he doesn’t. so you grab your bag and leave without saying another word.

the cinema isn’t your first choice. you wander the streets for a while, debating whether to call a friend or just head home. but you need a distraction, something that can dispel all the thoughts running through your head. so before you know it, you’re buying a single ticket to whatever is playing next.

the theater is almost empty. it isn’t until you sit down and glance at your ticket that you realize you’re not seeing something new, but a re-release of a classic: Goodfellas.

halfway through the movie, you see a figure slip into a seat a few rows ahead of you. a few moments pass, and you feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of your head. it’s distracting, like an itch. you can't bear to ignore it any longer so you turn your head and look straight at the person. the figure quickly shifts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. his features are hidden thanks to the hoodie he’s wearing, but his height and broad shoulders give him away as a man.

you hold your gaze for a second longer, just to make sure he gets the message, before turning back to the screen. but your focus is broken after that.

a few more moments pass and you notice the man stand and make his way out of his row. you let out a quiet breath of relief, assuming he’s leaving. but from the corner of your eye, you see the same figure moving toward your seat. your body stiffens immediately. why is he coming your way? maybe it was a bad idea to come to a nearly empty theater alone so late at night.

you watch as he stops in front of you and slightly crouches to not block the view of the screen.

“y/n?” he asks, voice low yet familiar.

“uh, yeah?” you respond warily.

“thought it was you.” he pulls back his hood, revealing the grinning face of jude bellingham.

a wave of embarrassment immediately washes over you. it’s bad enough that your boyfriend doesn’t love you and prefers to spend time playing video games with his friends, but now you have to run into his teammate of all people while you’re publicly wallowing in your misery—his kind, handsome teammate who always makes you flush whenever you cross paths.

this time is no different. your face grows warm as you stutter, “oh! h-hi, jude.”

you brace for the questions: why are you here alone? where’s your boyfriend? why do you have tear stains on your cheeks?

they don’t come though. instead, he gestures to the seat next to you. “mind if i join you? my seat over there was right under the AC; i was freezing.”

you nod. jude flashes you a smile as he takes a seat.

and then nothing. you watch the rest of the movie silently, the only interaction between you being an elbow nudge from him to offer his pack of candy.

he’s completely engrossed. he laughs silently at certain scenes, and in the more intense ones lets out small gasps. for someone else, it might’ve been annoying, but for you, who’s used to your boyfriend’s indifference to everything, you find his enthusiasm refreshing, maybe even a little endearing.

you spend the rest of the movie mentally going through the list of things you know about him : he's the same age as you (your boyfriend begrudgingly posted a birthday wish on his instagram story once), he can't drive (you see him being picked up by a driver whenever you visit valdebebas), he's genuinely nice (he always says hi when he sees you around, and he's politely held a door open for you once or twice), his spanish isn't the best (you once ran into him hopelessly trying to change his order at the canteen, sheepishly apologizing to the annoyed barista before you helped him out), and your boyfriend quietly holds a dislike for him because he's 'attention seeking' ( you secretly think its not his fault that he's charming and easygoing, that he has everyone he meets wrapped around his finger).

when the movie ends and the lights begin to brighten, he turns to you.

"do you wanna get ice cream?"

you hesitate for a moment.

"yeah. i’d love to," you say finally.

you exit the cinema, and when the fresh outdoor air hits you, you ask the question at the tip of your tongue.

"why and how are you here?"

"could ask the same for you," he grins.

"yeah, but—" you begin, but are immediately silenced by the sight in front of you. jude reaches into the pocket of the jacket he's layered over his hoodie and pulls out a dreadlocked toupee. with the straightest face, he carefully pulls down his hood, places the wig on his head, and adjusts it before pulling the hood back up.

you blink.

"you were saying?" the corners of his mouth twitch at your facial expression. without waiting for a reply, he starts walking, leading you away from the cinema.

you walk in tandem, still giving him a confused look. when you catch sight of his (fake) locs swinging along to the rhythm of his steps, you can’t help it; you burst out laughing.

“what’s so funny?” he turns to you, a mock hurt look on his face. “i’m part jamaican, you know.”

you pause your walking, doubling over and clutching your stomach as you laugh. he stands patiently, looking slightly amused.

after you catch your breath and fully recover, you continue walking.

“so that’s how you go places unnoticed?” you ask, still giggling.

“yup,” he says. “otherwise it’s a nightmare. need a bodyguard and stuff.”

you nod sympathetically as you stroll down the quiet street, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the concrete. jude walks with an easy confidence, his hands in his pockets while you glance over at him and his toupee every so often.

“so,” he says after a moment, glancing sideways at you, “what’s your excuse? why are you at a late night showing of Goodfellas all by yourself?”

your smile falters slightly. you look straight ahead, debating how much to share.

“just needed to get out of the house,” you say with a light tone.

jude doesn’t push, though the way he hums softly in response tells you he notices your answer is only a half-truth.

"what about you?" you ask.

"I like watching movies," he says simply.

when you give him a somewhat confused look, he pulls out his phone and opens the letterboxd app, showing you the extensive list of movies he's marked as watched. you skim through it and you’re surprised by the diversity. the list is seemingly filled with movies of all genres, from classic films to indie flicks. you didn’t expect this side of him, but somehow it makes sense.

as he enthusiastically explains the list, you can't help but feel endeared by the excited look on his face. you have the overwhelming urge to reach out and smooth over his furrowed brow with your finger. but for the first and only time that night, you don't act on that impulse.

you reach a small gelato stand located on a corner of the street, its neon sign glowing softly. jude steps forward and leans against the counter.

“pick whatever you want,” he says, winking as he passes you the menu.

“don’t mind if i do,” you say, raising an eyebrow. you ignore the way his words make you feel—warm and fluttery, like this is a first date between two single people.

after a moment of deliberation, you pick pistachio and hazelnut, watching as jude leans in to order the same for himself.

“you copying me?”

“nah,” he says with a smirk, passing your cone to you from the server. “just figured you have good taste.”

you wander away from the stand, both of you savoring your ice cream. for a while, you walk in comfortable silence. at one point, he removes the ridiculous wig from his head. it isn’t until you reach a park bench that jude breaks the silence.

"you know," he starts. "i haven’t seen you at a lot of games lately. everything good between you and your boyfriend?"

“‘your boyfriend?’” you tease. “why not call him by his name? you guys have beef or something?”

he stays silent.

you gasp half-jokingly. “oh my god! tell me everything, so i can sell the story to the tabloids.”

he lets out a laugh at that.

“you’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“c’mon, spill,” you tease, nudging his arm lightly. “is he, like, selfish? does he refuse to pass during games?”

jude chuckles, shaking his head again. “nah, nothing like that. he’s a good player. talented, hardworking… you just start noticing things when you’re around someone all the time, you know?”

he says it carefully, almost hesitantly. you tilt your head at him. “notice things like what?”

he shrugs, his gaze dropping to his melting cone. “like… maybe he doesn’t appreciate what he’s got.”

the words hang in the air between you. you don't know how to respond, so you just gaze down at your own ice cream.

"sorry," jude says quickly. "didn't mean to overstep. i just—forget it."

"no, it's fine," you say quietly. "you're not wrong."

you sit in silence for a few moments. you feel him lean back against the bench, and the next time he speaks, his tone is lighter.

"my dad's coming to visit tomorrow," he says casually, an excited undertone in his voice.

"yeah? that's nice. does he come often?"

"not as much as i'd like," jude admits. "he's got my little brother to worry about in sunderland."

you smile softly. “what do you guys usually do when he visits?”

"usually we grab some food..."

he speaks about his bond with his dad, and also his close relationship with both his brother and mother. soon the conversation moves to childhood memories; jude tells you stories about growing up in birmingham, the football academy there, how he met his best friends at school. in return, you share stories of your own childhood, each one met with genuine curiosity from jude. you laugh, the conversation feeling effortlessly easy and natural.

it isn’t until you pull out your phone and glance at the screen to check the time that reality crashes back in. you have a boyfriend waiting for you at home. a boyfriend who hasn’t called, hasn’t texted, hasn’t even noticed that you’ve walked out of his house.

you lick the last remnants of your ice cream and are just about to crunch into the cone when jude gestures toward your chin. “you’ve got a little…” he says, trailing off as he points.

“oh,” you mumble while jude scans your surroundings for a tissue. finding none, he leans in and gently swipes at the bit of ice cream with his thumb.

“got it,” he murmurs, his touch lingering just a second longer than required.

what happens next can only be described as a a lapse in thinking, or maybe something you've been holding back all night. before your brain can catch up with your actions, you grab his hand and bring his thumb to your lips. you lick the ice cream away, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

jude freezes, his breath catching, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"i—" you start, but whatever explanation you're about to give disappears when jude leans closer, his hand hovering near your face, as if waiting for your permission.

you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

his lips brush against yours, hesitant at first, testing the waters. when you don’t push him away or move back, when, instead, you lean into him, his kiss deepens. it’s slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to memorize every inch of you.

the ice cream cone in your hand is forgotten, melting onto the pavement as your fingers tangle into his hoodie, pulling him closer. the world fades, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble.

when you finally pull apart, your breaths mingle in the night air and jude’s forehead rests against yours.

“jude…” you whisper, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression serious. “tell me if I’ve crossed a line. i don’t want to make things harder for you.”

your heart flutters at the genuine care in his tone. you shake your head. “no, you didn’t.”

he doesn't keep his lips off you after that.

the next morning, you wake up feeling better than you have in months. there's a lightness in your chest, a warmth that’s been missing for what feels like forever.

you glance at your boyfriend, expecting to feel guilt or remorse. but there’s nothing. no pang of regret, no twist in your stomach. you feel... nothing at all.

you watch him roll out of bed and get ready for training. not a word passes between you as you sit down together in the kitchen to eat breakfast.

“so, what does your day look like today?” you try.

he doesn’t even look up, his attention entirely on his phone, scrolling with one hand while holding his fork with the other.

“i have a meeting at work that’s pretty—“ you start, but he cuts off.

“we’re doing penalty drills,” he mutters without looking up. “need to score more than bellingham so i can wipe that smug smile off his face. did you know he gets paid more than me?”

you just stare at him. you wonder what you even saw in him all those years ago. how had you overlooked the bitterness in his eyes, the envy? how had you missed it all along, his resentment towards anyone who seemed happier, luckier, more successful? his good looking face looks distorted to you now, forever changed to you to reflect the ugliness he holds inside. its as if you’re seeing him for who he really is for the very first time.

your phone buzzes on the table. without even checking, you know who it’s from.

jude: good morning :) sleep well?

you see it for what it is: an invitation to step into dangerous territory, to cross the line once more. a lifeline offering escape from the sinking ship that is your relationship.

you decide to take it.

you type a quick response and set the phone down. your boyfriend is grinning at an instagram reel now, completely absorbed.

you don’t speak to each other for the remainder of breakfast. this time it doesn't bother you at all.

[holographic-mars]

crawls into your inbox,, mars,,, mars i need ravage and soundwave affection headcanons. mars i need fluff. hands held open, only u can save me,, 🤲

CRACKS MY KNUCKLES DID SOMEONE SAY SOUNDWAVE AND RAV AFFECTION HCS

Starting off well known and easy—Soundwave, though seemingly adverse to being touched, much enjoys physical contact from the mechs he cares about. Touch is reassuring and comforting, it also provides a means of grounding himself when his senses overwhelm him. When Ravage is around, they are attached at the hip. Ravage is pressed against his leg, curled up on his lap, or draped over his shoulders (being able to not only hear, but feel Ravage’s spark pulse is comforting to Soundwave, and Ravage knowing that Soundwave is safe with her again. It’s mutual reassurance).

Ravage butts her head against Soundwave when showing affection. She nuzzles into his palm or under his chin, and Soundwave will nuzzle back. He bumps his head against his other cassettes and loved ones as a way of affection because Ravage does it to him (on that same note, Ravage will roughly butt her nose against Soundwave to get his attention or to reprimand him if he’s done something she does not approve of).

Grooming is a very high form of affection between Soundwave and all his cassettes. Whether it just to pick flecks of dirt out between Ravage’s plating or use sharp claws to dig into hard to get places on Soundwave’s frame, keeping one another well maintained is love. They will take family baths together where they all soak in a hot oil bath with an obscene amount of bubbles. They’ll lie in the oil for hours and hours enjoying the comfort and company. And pile bubbles on top of whichever cassette is closest. (when Soundwave was much younger and much less adept at keeping himself clean, Ravage would grab Soundwave and clean his face as if she was grooming a kitten. She still does it sometimes, much to Soundwave protest).

Soundwave, much like Ravage, rarely takes full rest cycles and instead just takes short naps whenever he can. Because of this, they take naps together all the time. Soundwave is Ravage’s personal space heater, and she will sprawl overtop of him to take a nap. If Ravage falls asleep, Soundwave will follow soon after (Ravage knows this and takes advantage of it when Soundwave is overworking himself. He cannot resist the pull of a sleepy Ravage. No work. Just Naptime).

THATS ALL I CAN THINK OF OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD BUT. BUT I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR ,, I LOVE THEM

[tutuandscoot]

Remember in one of their tv interviews after PYC and S is talking about the hug they had backstage after the competition was over and he said (to the effect of) “I wish we could just stay here for a while ”… in that description of that hug that we will never ever see, I imagine this one- even tho this one above was before the competition where they had a very different mindset, expectations, fears, etc, I feel their ‘wanting to just stay here for a while’ was much the same..

Flashback to this super cute behind the scenes moment prior to their Sochi FD in which Scott just strolls up to Tessa, wraps her into his arms, and rubs her back/arms. (The feed cuts before the end of the hug but that sucker lasts over 8 full seconds.) 

[pathologicalreid]

falling flat | s.r.

in which you call Spencer for help with a flat tire, and he comes to help with you car troubles - and then some

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to the reaper, car trouble, blood, tetanus vaccine, kindergarten teacher!reader, flirting, protective!spencer, takes place following 5x22 "the internet is forever", hastily edited word count: 1.87k a/n: rahhhh an old prompt from may 2024 that ended up working for a margovember request rahhh.

The absolute last place you wanted to be was on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere Virginia, with a flat tire. You weren’t entirely helpless until your tire jack broke, sending metal flying everywhere and cutting your hand open.

You slumped down next to your car, pulling your phone from your pocket before calling the first people you could think of. Every single one of them ended up going to voicemail. Some of them didn’t even let it get past the first ring before declining your call—traitors.

With your thumb hovering over the call button, you thought of Spencer. He had a PhD in engineering, but you weren’t entirely sure that would come in handy in this instance. It was late, almost midnight, and you weren’t even sure he’d answer.

At this point, what choice did you have?

As the phone rang, part of you hoped he wouldn’t answer. When he asked you about it the next time you saw him, you’d wave it off as a butt dial and he’d be none the wiser.

“Hello,” he said through the phone, leaving your plans quashed.

This was awkward, you had been on four dates with the guy over the span of two months, and now you were calling him in the middle of the night. “This isn’t a booty call,” You blurted, cringing inwardly and banging your head back on the passenger door of your car.

Spencer laughed lightly, “I didn’t think it was, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked, his job had a lot of long hours, and you didn’t want to bother him if he was catching up on sleep. If he was even home, “Wait, where are you?”

There was a rustling on his end of the call, “No, I wasn’t asleep, I’m at work. We just got off of a case.”

You let out a sigh of relief, at least you weren’t being a total nuisance. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. I just… my tire blew out on the highway and my jack broke and no one else is answering their phone,” you told him, verging on rambling.

“You’re kind of cutting out, where are you?” He asked, he sounded concerned, and if there was a moment where you weren’t sure you still had feelings for him, it was fleeting.

Looking to either side of you for a mile marker, you stood up, looking at the ground so you didn’t step on any metal, “I don’t really know. There aren’t any signs, I’m somewhere on 28, I think?”

Spencer cleared his throat, “Do you have your location on your phone?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I have enough service to check it,” you said, all you could see were trees.

You could hear him talking to someone, holding the receiver away from his mouth, “That’s fine, I’ll have someone look, just stay on the phone.”

It would seem that dating someone in the FBI does have its perks, “Oh, cool.” You overheard Spencer explaining your situation to someone, hearing the other person in the room say something about Reid’s girlfriend and you couldn’t help but smile. The two of you were very unofficially official.

“Hey, I’ll be there in half an hour,” An elevator dinged in the background. “Is that alright?”

You hummed, leaning your hip against the front of your car. “I mean, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Another ding of the elevator, “Will you do me a favor?”

In exchange for this? You’d do just about anything within the realm of legality, “Name it.”

“Get in your car and lock the doors,” he responded. “Turn your hazards on because right now you’re a sitting duck. If someone doesn’t see your car, they could hit you.”

As a favor, he was asking you to make sure you’re safe, “Okay, I’m getting in now, should I leave the car running?”

You heard the sound of a car lock disengaging through the phone, “As long as the cooling system on your car is in good shape, it shouldn’t be a problem to leave it running while you wait. Just remember what I told you about the hazards.”

Nodding despite the fact that he can’t see you, you got in the car, turning the key in the ignition before pushing the button for your hazard lights, “Okay, I’m in the car.”

“I can’t drive and be on the phone at the same time, but I’ll be there soon. Don’t unlock the doors for anyone except for me,” he told you, and you thanked him for his help before hanging up and settling yourself in your driver’s seat.

You pulled the hoodie you kept stashed in your car over your head, your school mascot—a panther—proudly displayed in the front, and made sure your car doors were locked. If you said you weren’t a little unnerved, you’d be lying to yourself.

Spencer had a worrisome job; it was something you were aware of before he ever asked you on that first date. It became alarmingly obvious to you when he revealed that he’d been shot a few months prior, which was an appropriate second-date conversation with an FBI agent. It made sense to you that he’d be concerned about you, in your idle car, on the side of the road, but you wondered if there was a case that he was thinking of. Someone with a flat tire who had met an untimely demise.

Shuddering, you turned up the heat in your car, flipping through radio stations until someone knocked on your window. You jumped at the noise, hitting your head against the roof of the car before looking outside to see Spencer. Sighing in relief, you unlocked your car door, and he opened it for you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is your head alright?”

You peered up at him, casually leaning over your car door. “You cut your hair,” you observed. You’d seen him just last week, where his hair still touched his shoulders, and now it was considerably shorter.

Self-consciously, he reached up a hand and thumbed one of the tendrils, “Yeah, it just got too long—and heavy.”

Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair, your head bobbed, “I like it. Did you do it yourself?”

“You can tell?” He asked, following you around the back of your car to your busted tire. Spencer sets his tire jack down before looking back at you, putting his hands on his hips.

Grinning at him, you shrugged, “I teach kindergarten, I’m basically a professional at noticing DIY haircuts.”

On a towel that you had previously set out, the two of you sat along the side of your car, and you tried to ignore the fact that Spencer still had his weapon holstered. It made sense, he’d come straight from work, but you wondered if there was a reason he didn’t leave it in his car. “Where’s your lug wrench?”

“I can change it myself,” you insisted, “I just needed a different car jack.” You gestured to the pieces of yours that were now all over the side of the road.

Alarm flashed on Spencer’s face, “Nothing fell on you, right?”

You shook your head, “No, just a cut from the metal.”

Holding out your hand, you let Spencer take a look at the cut on your palm. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

Blinking rapidly, you frowned at him, “Uh, when I was in college?”

“That might need stitches,” he responded, letting you take your hand back. “I’ll change your tire, I don’t want you using that hand for anything,” he informed you, pushing the hydraulic jack beneath your car.

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you watched him take your old tire off, muttering under his breath about how your old jack was practically an artifact, seeing how it literally fell apart under pressure. “How was your case?” You asked softly, fully aware that you were likely opening a can of worms by asking about work.

Spencer’s movements faltered slightly at your question, “It’s closed. We were in Boise,” he answered tactfully, leaving out any case details and cluing you into the fact that he didn’t want to talk about it. “What are you doing out here?”

You sighed, leaning back on your hands and watching him work, “I had a meeting with the other schools in our conference. It’s annual, and this year they happened to pick the school furthest away from mine.”

“Well, I suppose it worked out well that your tire blew out so close to me, then,” Spencer said, swapping out the busted tire for the donut and looking over at you. There was something nervous in his eyes, and you didn’t know if it was related to work or you.

Humming, you tried to watch the tire rather than just watching him, “Is there something bothering you?”

He was tightening the lug nuts on the spare tire, “Are you driving home after this?”

You furrowed your brows, “Yeah, where else could I be going?”

“It’s almost a two-hour drive to your place from here,” he reminded you, his tone laced with concern. “You won’t get home until almost one in the morning,” the displeasure in his voice was plain, but you don’t have anywhere else to go. “Plus, you really shouldn’t travel that far on a spare tire, they’re not made to travel far distances.”

Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you let your shoulders slump forward, “So, what do you suggest I do? Get a hotel?”

Spencer mumbled something inaudibly, trying to finish tightening the bolts on the tire before sighing, “You can stay with me,” he blushes, a swipe of pink across his cheeks.

Your lips parted in surprise, “Uh, I don’t… I’m not…” you faltered. Utterly failing to come up with a good enough reason to tell him no, “I don’t want you to feel inclined. This isn’t what I was looking for when I called you for help.”

He let the car down, staying quiet while the two of you cleaned up, and Spencer swatted your hand away when you tried to pick things up. “So, you can come back to my place tonight. My work-issued first-aid kit has your name all over it,” he told you, eyes flickering down to the cut on your hand.

“Okay,” you breathed, unable to conjure a reason to refuse his hospitality.

He was grinning at you, hair just barely brushing his eyebrows, “So tomorrow, maybe we can get coffee and drop your car off to get a new tire?”

You smiled back at him, “That sounds great, date number five.”

“You know where you’re going, right?”

“Yeah,” you’d been to his place once to pick him up, “Hey, Spence?”

He turned around, fishing his car keys from his pocket. He looked ready to respond to you, but you pressed your lips to his before he had a chance to speak.

You kissed him softly, whispering against his mouth, “Thank you for coming.”

He chuckled lightly, gently resting a hand on your waist, “Thank you for calling.” 

[milkis-deepspace]

sylus x reader - period pains

a/n: this is very self-indulgent^^ features established relationship and just fluffy goodness

being on your period is never fun. for around a week you have insane cravings, unbearable cramps and some major mood swings. truly horrible in all honesty. but the most embarrassing part was how needy you were especially now since you were in a relationship.

sylus is prepared for anything when it comes to you. ever since you've stayed over at onychinus' head quarters - he has made sure that anything you would ever want or need, would be at your disposal.

heating blanket? bought already.

pads and tampons? they’re placed in the cabinet under the sink, right besides sylus' skincare.

medicine? you knew where they were.

a massage? that... that was unexplored territory. while you and sylus were in a relationship and were quite touchy-touchy, asking for a massage seemed intimate. but then again, this might be the hormones talking. but would he think you were weird for requesting that? probably not, sylus would without a shadow of a doubt accept (almost) any of your requests. but would you really ask the mr. sylus qin - the already extremely busy leader of onychinus who had mephisto track your every move? speaking of the damn bird...

“i got a call from a little birdie saying a certain person has been in pain all day and didn't want to quote unquote bother me,” sylus enters the bedroom and takes off his jacket.

tsk, of course mephisto had tattled on you! that damn crow, someday you would make the crow heed under your command but today was not that day…

“sometimes it isn’t this bad, so i thought it would be okay,” you mumbled, curled up on sylus’ bed. it seemed as if the cramps intensified and sylus went over to sit beside you, his eyes filled with worry.

"tell me, how can i be of help to you?”

you glanced at him and shyly considered your answer. “well, uhmm, do you mind if- uh could you maybe give me a little massage…?”

sylus chuckels and easily complies to your request.

with a heating blanket placed under you to relieve the stomach cramps and sylus' warm hand massaging your back, you couldn’t help but to feel so immensely content. his big hands were perfect to warm you and his soothing voice was an anchor to keep you sane.

“you tell me if it’s too hard alright? i don’t want to unintentionally hurt you,” his thumbs pressed into your lower back, making sure to focus his strength on the tip of his fingers. his thumbs worked in circles, hands moving up and down, getting every tense spot.

his fingers worked like magic on your back. every touch, every caress made you fall into a state of heavenly bliss. just how did he learn to massage that well?

"do you want me to go harder? or softer? you need to remember to tell me, sweetie,"

"mngh, it's good. keep going," you replied with your eyes closed. you didn't want to break this moment - and you almost felt tempted to stay in sylus' bed forever - as long as every worry you had dissappeared.

"shh, just relax. i got you,"

his hands move up to your upper back and massages between your shoulder blades. a couple of days ago, you had remarked about how sore you were - it was meant as a fleeting comment - but it was something sylus was determined to remember. who was he if not the person to take away your pain? just mention whatever you want and sylus would make sure it would happen.

your pain eased away and pleasure replaced it. he noticed how much more relaxed you were now, and proceeded to lie down besides you. while you had fallen asleep, sylus gently played with your hair. it was still a wonder to him that you were here, in his bed, just making yourself at home.

after what felt like 9 hours were merely half an hour and you were still cuddled up with him and as the pain subsided you noticed how tired you truly were. a yawn escaped from you - and sylus' chuckle almost brought you back to reality.

“you’re welcome to fall asleep again sweetie,”

sylus saw the pure look of exhaustion and adorned your face with kisses and gentle touches. from your forehead to your jawline, sylus adorned your every feature with careful, loving pecks.

you fell victim to the lullaby that was sylus' heartbeat and when your breathing turned even, sylus too decided to join you in dreamland.

[wordsinhaled]

thinking about payneland from the perspective of a pining charles having fallen first the night they met in the attic is wild because like

he meets this boy who is incredibly soft and kind to him, comforts him, protects him from being scared as he’s dying

and everything’s a bit hazy anyway and you know, why not, why not, why not. so charles is all, “i think i’d miss kissing. do you miss kissing? 👀”

genius really. except edwin is like, no

so charles is like ok, never mind, no worries, fine. just misjudged it a bit, didn’t i. not to worry. still, i really like spending time with you, let’s stay together forever, yeah?

he dedicates himself to being the best friend edwin could possibly ask for. edwin doesn’t seem interested in anyone in any way, really. maybe edwin’s just like, above all of those things. or doesn’t care for them. that happens! charles gets it! anyway edwin’s only the best person anyone could even imagine spending an afterlife with, so it doesn’t much matter

and for thirty years it really doesn’t matter, except in tiny moments when charles maybe lets a little too much adoration bleed into the looks he gives edwin, which is fine because edwin is giving him the same type of looks back and it doesn’t have to be anything, it’s just how they are. and if he sometimes has to shake himself to keep from staring at edwin’s bare forearms when they’re relaxing in the office, well. that’s not for edwin to worry about. it doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, charles feels them all for edwin and he knows edwin loves him too

but then they go to port fucking townsend

and suddenly it’s very clear edwin is capable of those types of feelings. of being flustered and lost in daydreams and shy around someone the way you are when you’re interested. edwin is doing all of those things - and it’s not directed at charles. it’s directed at monty. at the cat king

not that he should have presumed. after all edwin can and should go on and like anyone he wants. it’s his right and edwin certainly deserves his chance at happiness, after everything he’s been through. but there had been this tiny, tiny part of charles that had always thought “if edwin ever did have those types of feelings, they would be for me”

and all of a sudden it’s like. all of charles’ pining could actually come to fruition, except it won’t because edwin has somehow chosen monty and his astrology books. because some whiskery tosser has gotten his claws into edwin and much as charles postures he won’t dare actually pry them out because he doesn’t want to interfere in edwin’s fulfillment

charles is right here, has been right here for three decades - being content for the most part, except in fleeting moments when it got to him. and it would be fine if edwin simply chose someone else - natural even - but the part scrambling charles’ brain is that it feels like edwin hasn’t even considered him. never mind that charles has got an entire elaborate plan for how he’d court edwin if edwin ever gave a singular sign that he welcomed it. but instead edwin has chosen this time to wake up to his feelings and entirely overlook charles as a romantic prospect

charles is not going to be a miserable arse about it. he’s going to be supportive. he’s going to be nice to bloody monty because monty has apparently unearthed feelings in edwin. feelings edwin deserves to have. and if he’s honest, he has to give the lad some credit for managing to find a side of edwin charles has yearned quietly for for three decades in a matter of weeks - just by being forward with edwin in a way charles wouldn’t dream of trying

anyway imagine charles’ utter confusion and disbelief when edwin is all, “actually it is not monty i am in love with at all, but you, charles”

and charles is just like, “but i thought you and him were…? you said… i mean—you don’t even notice me that way!”

“i must assure you i do.”

and then he gets to have a kiss that he has waited for and hardly let himself want properly for thirty years

like……. PINING CHARLES, MY FRIENDS

[enha-stars]

✧ Matchy, matchy ; S.J

Pairing: Bf!Jake x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: To be loved is to be known. And you were. And he was, too. You knew him and he knew you, and neither of you would have it any other way.

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, down bad jake, down bad reader, freak: matched (lovingly), abandoned food, kissing, suggestive, gift giving as a love language,

A/n: happy anniversary to my beloved, @karinasbaby . My love for her inspired this, so… comeback?? Possibly. Stay tuned.

In the dimly lit, slightly damp hallway, Jake carefully turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open with the gentlest of nudges to avoid any noise. He slipped inside his apartment, his footsteps silent against the hardwood floor. The soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warmth hue over the room.

He was about to head to your shared bedroom when an enticing aroma caught his attention, causing him to stop mid-step. His heart skipped a beat as he realized the source of the delightful smell was in fact, coming from his kitchen.

Tip-toeing closer, Jake poked his head into the kitchen to the sight of you standing at the stove, your back turned to him. You were humming a soft tune, completely absorbed in your cooking. The sight of you, dressed in one of his old t-shirts, hair loosely tied up, glasses resting on your head, made his heart swell until it almost burst out of his chest. 

Jake’s lips curved into a bright smile as he quietly moved towards you, setting the gift bag down by the wall. Careful not to make a sound, he reached your side and paused for a moment, taking in the scene. The table was set for two, candles ready to be lit, and the counters were adorned with fresh ingredients. Jake recognized the variety on the table and his smile widened. He knew what avocados and limes meant and his stomach rumbled.

Unable to resist any longer, he stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You let out a small gasp of surprise, dropping the spoon you were holding as you turned your head to look at him, heart beating rapidly and eyes wide.

“Jake! Oh my gosh,” you exhaled, trying to catch your breath. “You scared me.” The smile that had twisted onto your lips and the sparkle in your shiny eyes told him that he had the same affect on you that you had on him. 

Jake kissed your cheek softly, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, angel.” He did, and she knew it, too. “I just couldn’t resist.” 

You laughed, a sound he was sure the tides pushed towards because you were a celestial being to him, bright and unearthly. If he could bottle your laugh and drink it, have it swim in his veins forever, he would. 

“Well, I missed you and I wanted to surprise you. How was the harbor?” You picked up the spoon once more and stirred the pot of beans and ground meat. Knowing this mood of his, you turned off the stove. 

You wouldn’t be eating anytime soon, anyways. 

“It was okay,” he murmured, tightening his embrace. “Riki fell into the water but it only reached his hips.” He grinned against your skin when you snickered. He could feel your body shake beneath his hands and he pressed himself against you tighter. “I missed you, baby.” 

You turned in his arms, facing him fully. Your eyes met his and you could feel every ounce of stress, every fleeting miscellaneous thought, fade away. His eyes, shiny and sparkling, held yours with nothing but heat and affection. 

Jake swallowed, afraid to blink. He was afraid that if he blinked, you may disappear. It didn’t matter how long he had you, he wanted you for longer. He wanted forever. Eternity, even, if he could ask for it. 

Your eyes glazed over his face, taking him in after not seeing him for a few hours. There was a small smudge of dirt under his right eye and you did the only thing you could do. Holding his chin in place, you licked your thumb and rubbed the dirt off his face. 

Jake stared at you feverishly, eyes on your face; taking in the way you slightly pouted your lips, sticking your tongue out a bit. It was a habit you had learned from him, one he cursed himself for all the time.

“There,” you mumbled to yourself. “All clean.” You dropped your hands to his chest and met his gaze. The warmth in it almost made your legs buckle but his grip held you upright. 

“I love you,” he said. Before you could say anything, he dipped his head towards yours. His lips hovered above your own as he whispered, “I got you something.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head up, trying to meet his lips but he stayed slightly out of reach, forever teasing you. “Yeah? What’d you get me?”

Jake almost gave in, feeling your warm breath against his lips. He wanted to kiss you until you forgot your name, but he enjoyed this. He enjoyed making you wait, the push and pull.

“It’s a surprise,” he mumbled. “You have to sit on the couch.” His lips briefly, for the lightest of seconds, brushed against yours and you almost whined out his name. 

“Jake,” you exhaled, eyes squeezed shut. Jake loved you like this; all bothered and slightly desperate for him. Usually, he was the one like this, the one on the cusp of begging and asking. When he got you like this, oh, you looked stunning. “Come on,” you tried. “Tell me.” 

Jake simply shook his head, his lips brushing against yours tantalizing. “Gotta wait, angel.” His lips curled upwards at the small noise of frustration you made and he stepped back, hands dropping to his side. He watched with heated eyes as you blinked back into yourself. He loved being the only one to have you like this. 

Before he could take another step back, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards you, smashing your lips together. You swallow his slight gasp of surprise and smile against his lips as he melts into it, hands cupping the sides of your face as your lips move harshly against each other. 

Unable to help himself, Jake steps forward and pushes you backwards until your back is flush against the counter. The slight dig makes you gasp in pleasurable pain and he slips his tongue inside your mouth, laying claim to what already belongs to him. He grips the counter, caging you in.

You clutch his shirt, lips moving roughly against his. Jake slots his knee between your legs and the new pressure manages to pull a breathy moan out of you. Jake pulls away, eyes still shut as he tries to catch his breath. There’s a string of saliva that connects your bruised lips and he presses his lips against yours softly, licking your lips clean. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. He opens his eyes and almost groans at the sight of you; breathing deeply, lips red and plump, eyes slightly dazed. You looked almost fucked out and he hasn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” 

You laughed at his words and slid your hands up to the base of his neck. “So, this gift…” 

Grinning, Jake nipped at your lips before stepping back. “Go sit on the couch, pretty.” He simply shook his head when you frowned at him and he watched you reluctantly walk out of the kitchen and into the living room with eyes filled to the brim with adoration. 

He waited until he heard you fall back onto the couch. Even then, you called out and let him know you were sitting. He was sure his heart was going to burst out his ribs and break through his skin with the amount of love and affection he felt for you. 

Grabbing the small gift bag, Jake made his way to you. When you heard his footsteps, you straightened your back and turned to face him, giving him your utmost attention. Jake often gifted you small, minuscule things, and you loved and appreciated every single thing. It was how he loved, and so you always made sure to focus on him and what his gift was telling you. 

Kneeling down in front of you, he looked up at you as you shifted to the edge of the sofa. You spread your legs a bit and he shuffled between them. His lips twisted and you pinched his nose, immediately seeing the flicker of heat and desire that spread through his eyes. “Don’t even think about it,” you warned. 

“Jokes on you,” he smirked. “I’m always thinking about it.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him and traced the outline of his lips. “Freak.” 

“Matched,” he countered, licking your finger when you pressed it down on his bottom lip. 

You both grinned at each other before he cleared his throat and lifted the gift bag, moving it towards you. Gently, like it was made of gold, which to you, it practically was, you grabbed it and set it down on your thigh. 

Jake watched you curiously as you picked the gift wrapping sheets out of the bag. He stopped breathing momentarily when you reached into the bag and pulled out a small, coffee coloured teddy bear plushie. 

His eyes, which could never and would never stray from you, focused on your expression; the way your eyes widened in surprise and then fondness, the way your small smile twisted into a wide grin before your lips parted in content. He watched as your eyebrows raised in surprise, the way your eyes crinkled. 

You looked so happy, so adorable as you gently patted the bear's head. Lost in the gift, you barely noticed Jake’s warm gaze and the way he shuffled forward, resting his cheek against your other thigh. He was more than pleased with staring at you like this forever. 

“Jake,” you whispered, pulling him out of his staring. He blinked and lifted his head, shaking the hair out of his face. With one hand, you held the bear tightly. With the other, you brushed his hair out his face, smiling a little wobbly. “I love him. What’s the special occasion?” 

Jake shrugged, slightly overcome with emotion. He didn’t think he would be, but you had that effect on him. “It’s uh, well,” he licked his lips. “I saw him at the harbor and thought of you. I knew I had to win it for you.” 

You stared at him, eyes widening at his words before you bit your bottom lip. You glanced at the bear in your hands and let out a quiet chuckle. At the sound, Jake looked back at you, eyes sparkling. 

“Jake,” you sighed. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His eyes shut automatically and he breathed out in content. “This is actually really funny,” you murmured against his skin. 

“Hm?”

Pulling away, you set the bear down beside you and tapped his head twice. He opened his eyes and frowned in confusion when you motioned for him to move. Looking like a kicked puppy, he shuffled backwards and gave you enough space to get up. 

From the carpet, he watched you as you walked to the breakfast table. You pulled a chair back and grabbed something he couldn’t see. Hiding the item from his sight, you turned to face him. There was a twinkle in your eye, one he loved to see but didn’t understand. 

“Sit up on the couch for me, baby.” You motioned him to get up with your head and like the obedient boyfriend he was, he pushed himself off the carpet and fell back onto the sofa. 

Satisfied, you walked towards him, hiding the item behind your back. Jake tried to glance around you but with one look, he sulked into the couch, crossing his arms. Tsking, you sank to your knees and he immediately spread his legs. 

Your eyes traveled from his thighs up to his eyes and his eyes crinkled in amusement, an arrogant smirk ghosting on his lips. “Thinking about it, aren’t you, angel?”

You licked your lips, trying to focus on the present in your hands. “Don’t be freaky right now, Jake. We’re trying to be sentimental.” 

“So you are thinking about it,” he mused, spreading his legs further. You blinked and tried to ignore his tactics. It wasn’t even your fault really, not when his feelings and excitement were practically staring right in the face. 

Clearing your throat, you pinched his thigh to get his mind out of the gutter. Once the lust in his eyes died down a bit, you smiled bashfully at him. 

“What’re you hiding, angel? What’s in your hand?” He tried to hide the curiosity in his voice but you caught it. Because, while he liked to give you things, you also liked to give him things. Despite his calm demeanor, you knew he was always excited. Just like you were. 

Gosh, the stars really did love you both. 

“Well,” you started. “It’s funny that you got me that bear because I…” When your explanation fell short, you brought the bear in your hand towards Jake, handing it to him. He stared at the chocolate covered teddy bear in pure astonishment, almost like it couldn’t be real. 

You shuffled forward, resting your hand on his thigh. Rubbing small circles on his skin, you tried to ground him. Despite getting small gifts from you all the time, he took them each to heart. You wondered when he would accept the love he deserved. 

With a gentleness that made your stomach tingle, he held the bear carefully in his hand. It was small in his hands, but the weight of it felt almost overwhelming. You watched as his eyes glistened with something adoring, the way his lips parted prettily, curving into a smile so bright and beautiful it could have blinded you. 

“Angel,” his voice was hoarse with emotion, “why did you… how?” With soft, featherlike fingers, he caressed the bear as if it was your skin. His eyes were filled with wonder and if you could have captured this moment in its exactness, you would have lived in it. 

“I saw it the other day while I was shopping. It reminded me of you so I bought it.” 

Your words snapped something in him and he set the bear down, eyes ablaze. You barely got enough time to look at him before he scooped you into his arms and set you in his lap. Blinking, you stared at him, dumbfounded. 

With your legs on either side of him, you shuffled a bit closer until you were comfortable. Then, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist. 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

His lips wobbled and he brushed his nose against yours. “Hi, angel.” 

“So, do you like the bear I got you?” 

Pressing a kiss to your jaw, he nodded. “I love it so much. So, so, much. I can’t believe we got matching plushies accidentally.” 

You laughed and kissed the edge of his smile, wanting to bask in it forever. “We match each other's freaks so well. We’re practically soulmates at this point.” 

Pulling away, he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “The fuck you mean practically? We are soulmates. I’m marrying you. We’re going to die together and be buried together in one casket.” 

“Oh.” You grinned at him. “Okay, baby. Whatever you say.” 

He tiled your head upwards and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Then, he grabbed both of the bears and handed you yours while he kept his close to his chest. “What are you naming him?” 

You hummed in thought and stared at the bear in your hand. Naming your plushies was important to you. Names were important, and they had to be meaningful. Jake shouldn’t have been so turned on while watching you think of a name for a plushie, but he was. He knew you could feel it, but, having your priorities straight, you ignored him. 

“I kind of like Buoy.” 

Jake blinked at you before he softly laughed, amazed at your naming ability. “Buoy?” 

“Yeah, Buoy. Named after that slightly orange buoy by the harbor. That, and you’re my anchor. Always keeping me afloat and all.” 

Jake wasn’t a crier, but the amount of times he had almost burst into years tonight had hit a new record. Trying to swallow the emotion that bubbled in his throat, he rested his head against your chest, hiding in your embrace. You laughed at his antics and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“What about you? What are you naming her?” 

Jake lifted his head and the look in his eyes made you hold your breath. You could feel every single vein in your body vibrate and you knew you were in for a long night. 

“I’m naming her Quesadilla.” The seriousness in his voice threw you off and you weren’t sure if you should laugh or clap him on the back. Instead, you simply raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Why Quesadilla?” 

“I’m naming her that in honour of the quesadillas we won’t be eating tonight.” 

“What are you–” You were cut off by Jake tightening his grip on you and flipping you over. A surprised laugh escaped your lips as you found yourself lying beneath him on the couch, his body hovering over yours.

You weren’t sure where your bears had gone, but that was the least of your worries. Jake leaned down, his face inches from yours, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart beat in your ears.  “I’m only hungry for you tonight, pretty girl.” His lips hovered above your own and your throat went dry. 

You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek as you smiled up at him. “Have me then, Jake.” 

Jake’s expression softened and he closed the distance between you, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It was a simple tease, a highlight as to how the night was going to go, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You would, after all, have your fun after he had his. 

[wonsroyalty]

it's okay, i'm okay : ̗̀➛이희승

i don't want him anyway, girl, take him..

✧heeseung x f!reader

genre/warnings: 3.8k, i don’t want to give too much away :0 but angst, relationship, cheating, shouting, sex, fighting, mentions of wishing death. this in no way shape or form represents heeseung, it's purely fictional! italics are flashback scenes!!!

a/n: i’m obsessed with this song omg + i listened to white ferrari (it’s my cry song 😕) at one point while writing this so theres a few references AND i was listening to the new tyler album so if it’s not sad enough it’s because i was so excited 😭😭 ooo and the favourite song choice is from those playlists that enha made at the start of the romance untold era 🔥🔥 for @sofsofenso my no.1 fan, mwah 😽 i hope you like it !!

masterlist

"I. Love. You. So. Fucking. Much." he kissed you between each word.

Your chest was heavy as you held his weight on your stomach but you managed to laugh at his actions.

"We'll be together forever right?" you held your pinky out.

"Forever and ever!" he crossed his own with yours.

Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead but you truly wished he was.

Your naive 11-year-old heart truly believed that you'd be with him forever. He was your first everything.

You were that cheesy couple in the group that everyone believed would get married and have kids and stay together till you were old and grey.

Too bad, considering your luck was always terrible and you had attracted the devil's spawn.

The fleeting moments of you sneaking him into your room, the lingering touches you shared and the overall thought of his existence skated around the interior of your brain.

You desperately wanted to get rid of them but they brought a sense of comfort that only he could fill.

flashback!-

"I think you might be my soulmate.." he trailed off.

"Hee!" you scolded him. "Wait until after we meet your parents."

You smoothed down your black skirt, checking your outfit in the mirror one last time.

He helped you into his red leather jacket before pulling you into his embrace.

"Heeseung!"

"Okay, okay baby." he pulled away. "Let me get a picture before we go,"

The flash of his polaroid camera captured your smitten expression as he kissed your cheek.

His parents loved you, they claimed that their son had a glow around him whenever he was with you.

"Oh my, sorry. I can't focus when I look into your eyes, pretty." Heeseung whispered.

You lightly hit his chest. "I was telling you to look at this."

"Wait, new lockscreen and it's still me!" he got up and did a little dance.

"Yeah, but that not what I- "

He picked you up and twirled you around before attacking you with tickles.

"Stop, stop!"

"Tell me how much you love me and I'll stop." he cackled.

"I love you, so much, Hee." you collapsed onto his bed in a fit of giggles.

He flopped down next to you and pulled you into his chest.

"You really are my soulmate."

What a bunch of crap.

"Yn.. don't look but she's.. over there." Winter glared in the direction of the girl who was partly responsible for the end of your relationship.

flashback!-

Keeho rested an arm around your shoulder as he showed you around the party.

"You're so drunk already." You laughed at him. “Again.”

It was common for Keeho to get heavily drunk at pre’s and every time he said he would stop but just didn’t follow through.

"AM not." he pouted.

The two of you walked over to your friends.

"Where's your man?" Sungchan laughed behind his cup.

"We're not always together." you grumbled.

His comment did make you curious though as you had both made your way to the party separately.

Your grandfather was sick and you wanted to visit him in the hospital before making your way to Keeho's 19th, so you had told Heeseung he could meet you whenever he got there.

Chenle told you that he'd seen him in the kitchen earlier so they all followed you there.

"Heeseung! What the fuck!" you shouted.

Yunjin was pressed up against your boyfriend who had a hand in her hair. They were about an inch away from kissing but judging by the gloss on his lips, you could tell that they already had.

He gently pushed her away with a laugh.

"Baby, hey." he waved to your friends too.

"What is your problem?!"

You pushed him away as he got closer to you.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.

"Guys.." Winter called after you.

His feet stopped once you were inside a bathroom.

"I've never seen you that mad before, pretty." he laughed.

"Let me out."

"No way... you're actually jealous."

Your jaw dropped.

"I'm not jealous, I'm breaking up with you."

"No, you're not." His face dropped. “Your emotions are high right now because your grandfather is sick. Don’t let that cloud your judgement.”

All you could do was look away because you believed his words.

"Come on, let's talk about this." he attempted to kiss you.

"Get off! You've clearly kissed someone else tonight and you expect me to want to stay with you despite you cheating."

This wasn't even the first time you'd caught him “cheating” on you.

He laughed in your face.

"This isn't Yunjin's lip combo." he joked.

"Well, it's someone's isn't it?" you frowned.

"So, you're gonna throw away 9 years because you don't trust me?" he calmed down.

Spolier! He'd convinced you to stay with him once again!

You remember the disappointed looks from all of your friends when you walked out with his arm around you.

They weren’t the only people who began to warn you about Heeseung.

Every new person you’d interacted with told you that he was bad news but you reassured them that he was just getting used to university.

He seemed to switch as soon as you’d gotten to uni, badmouthing you to his friends, staying out late, missing dates, ignoring you and each time you’d take him back.

You even took him back when you walked into the lunch area and caught him kissing your seat-mate from Politics.

Your best friends didn’t speak to you for a week after that one.

But you’d become desensitised to the feeling you got when you’d catch him. Taking him back immediately saved you from having to argue with him and you were tired.

Tired from the stress of your degree and having to deal with Heeseung.

Everywhere you went, you received looks of pity. No one envied you for being in a relationship with Heeseung, they all felt sorry for you.

You continued to defend him and every time he’d act out and chip off a piece of your heart, leaving you embarrassed and scared.

“Hee is my soulmate.” you reiterated.

Heeseung was all you ever wanted.

He was all you’d ever known.

Hee was your first everything.

Letting him go, would be losing a part of yourself and you weren’t quite sure if you were capable of doing that yet.

But four months later at the same house you'd been pushed to your limit.

flashback!-

“Great to see that you aren’t as drunk as last time.” Chenle poked at Keeho.

“I’m on lookout, Jiung smashed my dining room table last time.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yn!” someone turned you around.

“Hey, Yunjin.” you all sighed.

“Where’s Heeseung?” she pouted.

You really didn’t know and you were tired of people asking you that.

“I don’t know, go find him if you want.” you shrugged.

You had every reason to be mad at him.

It was your 10-year anniversary and you hadn’t done anything to celebrate together.

The party was his idea of “having a fun anniversary”.

“Yunjin, don’t come over to kill the vibe.” Sungchan groaned.

“Fine.” she grumbled.

On her way past you, she pretended to trip in order to dump her drink down your front.

“Shit.” you ran off to a bathroom in order to get the ice out of your bra, not even stopping to hear Winter scold Yunjin.

Most of them were locked so you opted for the one in Keeho’s bedroom.

On the verge of tears, you attempted to calm yourself down and get a shirt from his walk in wardrobe.

You threw on a jersey that matched with your jeans and were on your way out when someone came into the main area of the room.

“Finally, I’ve been looking for you for ages.” a girl giggled.

‘What is Yunjin doing here?’

“Well, I’m a busy man.”

‘Heeseung?! What kind of a sick joke was this?’

“Ugh don’t remind me. I asked Yn where you were and she literally said she didn’t care.”

‘I didn’t say that??’

“What?” Heeseung sounded confused.

“Enough about her, I’m right here. And we have all the time in the world.”

You could hear her kiss him.

The same lips that had spent countless hours pressed against your own.

The same lips that spoke promises of fulfilment and expressed their gratitude towards you.

The same lips that whispered words of encouragement when it was just the two of you, late at night while you gave yourself to him.

You felt disgusted.

Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead, but you truly wished he was. You wanted him to suffer an unspeakable fate for hurting you but every time you thought of him, you couldn’t bear the thought of having to live without him.

The remaining fragments of your heart fell into the palm of your hand. There was nothing to fight for anymore.

You should’ve moved long before the moans reached your ear but you were frozen in shock.

‘Is this what people warned me of.’ you panicked. ‘I should’ve never let it get this far.”

Your feet didn’t wait and moved involuntarily as you gave away your hiding spot.

You needed to see it for yourself.

The tears that you’d been holding in for months fell down your cheeks.

“I can’t do this- not today.”

Pushing past them you ran downstairs and out the doors, attracting the attention of your friends.

“Yn? What, wait!” Heeseung shouted, running after you as he slipped his clothes back on.

He grabbed your arm pulling you back into his embrace.

You shoved him away violently this time.

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

“You can’t keep saying you’re sorry and then acting out and embarrassing me every. single. time. I’m fed up Heeseung, I am done with you for good. The pain I feel just from loving you is a burden that I shouldn’t have to face anymore. I love you so much, Hee- Heeseung.” You cried as you pushed him away again. “I care so much, but it’s clear that my best just wasn’t enough for you. I’m sure that- that in another life we’d be happy.. but in this one I just don’t think that’s possible.”

“Yn, no. I’ll fix this.. I’ll fix us and I- I’ll change my ways. Just- please.” he trembled. “I wanted- I want to spend my life with you.. I can’t lose you. You can’t leave me. You’re all I’ve ever known.”

“Well that’s not true,” you sobbed. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

“Baby, why.” he grabbed your hands. “Why don’t you trust me anymore? What do I have to do to get you to trust me again.. I’ll do anything for you. I love you..”

You could see your friends in your peripheral vision watching in concern. Waiting to intervene.

“Can I ask you something?” you stared him in the eye. “I need you to answer honestly.”

“Anything!” he pleaded, tears running down his face. “Ask me anything.”

“Why did you do it time after time?” you watched him deny his acts.

“Sieun told me. You were with Yunjin, Aya, Kate. You even tried it on my Winter and she’s my best friend, Mia, Yeji, Aeri.. I can’t.” The tears fell again.

“None of them compare to you.. Baby, please don’t leave.” he tried getting closer to you. “When I look at you all I see is my soulmate. I care for you still and I will, forever.”

“Well, I look at you… and I see nothing.”

For once, he didn’t even try to fight back.

The rest of the night was a blur.

Sungchan punched him and Winter took you home as you cried for days to come.

You waited by the phone for a text or even a call with an apology but days passed then weeks which turned into months.

There was an odd sense of comfort in knowing that he knew he was in the wrong but all you wanted to do was have him hold you and tell you that everything would be alright.

Yunjin waited for her coffee to be made as she looked down at her phone.

"I.. You know what.. I don't care." you leaned back in your chair.

You didn’t know if she was still dating him, and you didn’t want to.

Chenle gasped.

"Are you being real right now?" He pressed. "This is new territory."

You nodded.

Winter suddenly began to look uncomfortable.

"Coming.. over.. here." she muttered out.

"Yn!" Yunjin screeched. “You’re going to Keeho’s party tonight right?”

“Yeah.. Surprised that you are too, you know.”

She pointed at herself confused.

“I didn’t know you were friends with Keeho.” you pointed.

“Oh, I’m not. I’m someone’s plus one.” she looked away bashfully.

“That’s not a problem.” you shrugged it off. “We’re all there to get wasted anyway.”

She mistook your lack of anger as friendship.

“Well, hope I see you later.” she waved, taking off as her order was called up.

“I don’t.” Chenle groaned.

You looked at the time on your phone.

“Cute lockscreen.” Winter giggled.

It was a picture of you, her, Chenle, Sungchan and Keeho on holiday together.

That was the summer after you and Heeseung broke up.

flashback!-

“It is so hot here.” Winter fanned herself.

“That’s because you’re stood out on the balcony.” Sungchan laughed.

Everyone else lounged around your hotel room.

You were still a mess.

They were trying to distract you from anything and everything and while you appreciated the thought, you just wanted Heeseung back.

Your phone was connected to Keeho’s speaker, blasting some songs that you weren’t paying attention to.

A familiar intro snapped you out of your trance and you immediately reached for your phone.

“No- No, Yn give me that.” Chenle snatched the phone out of your hands.

You’d pressed onto Heeseung’s contact and were in the process of typing out ‘I miss you…’

You remembered what Heeseung told you the first time. “Sincerity is scary by the 1975. Whenever I hear the song, I think of you.” he shrugged. “I guess that’s why it’s my favourite.”

All it took was one song, his favourite song, and you fell back into the rhythm that they were trying to get you out of.

“Come on.” Keeho smiled as he helped you up. “Let’s go out, it’s not every day that you get to be in Hawaii!

Now two years had passed.

You were in the final year of your Bachelor’s degree, with employment lined up for you to work under a United Nations representative as you studied for your Masters.

Winter was going off to Paris to work as a designer for a luxury brand, Chenle was already earning 6 figures as an accountant while studying, Keeho and Sungchan were both planning a gap year before going into business and engineering respectively.

Your best friends, all going their separate ways. You couldn’t bear the thought.

You loved them like no other and having to deal with life’s problems alone didn’t seem too great.

Together you’d created a calendar to show whenever someone was free and had planned several group holidays to come.

Spending winter in Paris with Winter, spring break in the Philippines with Keeho and Sungchan and several mini trips in summer with Chenle.

“Cheers!” Keeho shouted.

“What are we cheering to?” you laughed.

“Us… duh!”

You’d all settled on the conservatory sofa, away from the noise and people at the party.

“We have 5 months left, don’t get sappy.” Sungchan smiled.

“Well if you think about it, it’ll be over in no time.” Winter looked deep in thought. “We’ve been friends for 19 years now and those flew by.”

19 years..

It didn’t take long for you all to realise that you really didn’t have a lot of time left in your bubble.

Having to face the real world without your found family was difficult.

“I don’t want to leave you guys.” Chenle cried into your side as you all hugged each other.

“Please don’t be a stranger guys,” Keeho sobbed. “Weekly group facetime calls, weekend trips..”

“I want postcards.” you wailed. “From your world trip.”

“You’ll all get them.” Sungchan bawled.

“Remember in nursery when- when Chenle started that paint fight and we all got scolded by the teacher.” Winter laughed with a sniffle.

Laughter broke out across the group.

You had the picture on your childhood bedroom wall. The four-year-old versions of yourselves covered head to toe and looking guilty.

Time really does fly by.

“I love you guys.”

The moment was cut short when Jiung stumbled into the room.

“Hey!”

“Not me!”

Chenle dove out of the way and you ended up covered in Jiung’s drink.

“Why does everyone put ice in their drinks!” you wined. “I’m going to steal a shirt, Keeho.”

You left the group as they arranged a ride home for Jiung and looked for a change of clothes in Keeho’s wardrobe.

Slipping a shirt on, you left his room but realised you’d wanted to use the bathroom.

There was another down the hall anyway.

You were in the process of washing your hands when you noticed the song seeping through the gap under the door.

“Sincerity is scary by the 1975.”

But you didn’t have an urge to text him.

The door flung open.

‘Why!’ you groaned.

“Ba- Yn..” he tilted his head. “You look better.”

“Please leave, Heeseung.”

You hated how he looked even better.

“Why are you looking at me like that..” you whined.

You hated how your whole being shut down as soon as you were close to him. The past two years went out of the window.

“Like what?” he whispered.

“You know we can’t..” you trailed off.

He took several steps closer to you and you hesitated to breathe.

“We’re not doing anything.” his eyes were very much focused on your lips.

Winter’s voice rang out in your head.

“Don’t tell the guys.. but if you ever end up in the same place as him, I think you should get closure. It’ll help you move on.”

You let him kiss you.

When he pulled away you brought him back, kissing his lips with a hunger you’d never had before.

He pulled you up by the waist and placed you on the bathroom counter, fingers immediately making their way under your skirt.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“One last time.” you confirmed before kissing him again with even more passion.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” he pulled down your underwear and began to lap at your cunt.

Your hands grasped at his now red hair, as your head fell back against the mirror with a gasp.

He knew you like the back of his hand and you were ashamed to reach your climax so fast as he worked your insides with precision and memory.

“Fuck.. Hee- Heeseung, I’m gonna cum.” you moaned out.

“Cum for me, pretty. You did so well,” he praised as he rubbed your clit.

The nickname and intensity of your orgasm did a number on you.

You felt lightheaded as he kissed you breathlessly before reaching into his pocket to pull out a condom.

‘Thank God, he got the message. One last time.’ you thought. It felt too intimate to let him fuck you raw.

Your fingers made light work of discarding his belt and jeans so you could pull his boxers down teasingly slowly.

“Baby, please..” he whined.

You slid off the counter and onto your knees, immediately taking him into your mouth.

Your muscles moved like clockwork, memory working overtime as you pushed his buttons the way he always loved.

“Not yet..” he whimpered.

He pulled your head off his dick and helped you stand up then bent you over the counter.

You watched in the mirror as he rolled the condom on and then rubbed his length on the slick of your release.

“Heeseung,” you whined as he nudged your clit with his tip.

“All in one?” he asked you.

You nodded.

He sheathed himself into you in one go.

Feeling as though you could cum then and there, you slumped onto the surface in front of you.

Heeseung grabbed your hair and forced you to watch him in the mirror.

Once you made eye contact, you became fully aware of the situation you were in.

You cried out as he slapped your ass before slamming into you from behind.

The moans leaving your lips and whines leaving his would be heard by everyone if the music wasn’t so loud.

He knew exactly what to do and you didn’t even have to tell him what pace to go at, he remembered.

“Hee! Right there.” you cried out. “R- Right there.”

“I’m so close.” he cried. “Shit..”

“Me too.” you held your hand out.

Heeseung grabbed your outstretched hand as you came together.

Silence overcame you both as he threw the condom into the bin and helped clean you up.

He tried to kiss you again.

You looked away.

It was clear that he had just cried but so had you.

The tension and emotion you had for each other was too strong.

“I’m sorry.” he croaked out. “I’m so sorry.”

Your arms pulled him into your embrace.

“It’s okay.”

He pulled back slightly and kissed you again.

This time it was light and if you weren’t paying attention, it would’ve felt as though he was never there.

You wiped his tears away before your own.

“Do you ever think about what life would be like for us, if things were different..?” he asked.

Someone burst into the room.

“You bitch!” Yunjin shouted at you.

It wasn’t hard to assume that you’d just had sex with the smell lingering in the room and the mirror fogged up.

“Huh?” you looked at Heeseung to explain.

“Wait, Yn- ”

You laughed in pain.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You’d just helped him do what broke your heart in the first place.

Instead of sadness or anger you just felt done.

“We were just talking.” you lied.

You weren’t covering for him. You knew that he needed the closure as much as you did but ultimately you were trying to save your own skin.

Yunjin looked furious.

“You can have him.” she seethed. “I should’ve known that he’d never get over you. But I didn’t think that you’d try to get at him.”

“Girl, take him. He’s yours.” you put your hands up, signalling that you were finished with whatever was going on. “I had him in the first place, I don’t want him anymore.”

You felt bad talking about Heeseung like he was an object while he was right in front of you but you pushed that aside.

“No-!” she frowned.

“I don’t want him anyway,” you turned to leave. “Girl take him.”

Yunjin didn’t even try to fight it.

She seemed shocked that you’d given up so easily.

“Heeseung,” you started. “To answer your question, I did. But I learned not to expect much from you.”

Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead, but you no longer cared enough to wish he was.

THE END.

[cinematicreid]

for a moment

the one where Spencer reminds reader to slow down.

wc 651

warnings + the rundown: bau!reader, fluff, soft!spencer, i love him, literally can’t live without him, what a sweetheart, mentions of reader getting shot, but nothing explicit, feelings!, yikes!

a/n: can’t beat short and sweet and cutesy. feedback always welcome, come say hi to me i think you’re all so cool!

~

Spencer’s eyes may as well have laser beams shooting out of them with the way his gaze is glued to you. You attempt to focus on the task at hand, securing the Kevlar vest to the upper half of your body and completely ignoring him. But this has been happening for almost two months, ever since your incident, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Give it a rest, Spencer, you’re driving me crazy.”

“I know! I’m sorry, just — will you please let me —”

You let out a huff of exasperation, giving up.

“For fuck’s sake,” you mumble, and then more loudly, “Fine.”

Your hands fall to your sides in surrender as he quickly moves toward you and reaches for the vest’s fasteners.

A child. He’s making you feel like a child.

You hear Morgan chuckle from the other end of the police precinct’s tiny conference room, as if he can read your thoughts. You’re about to shoot him a death glare when you’re interrupted by Spencer sharply tugging a strap too tight.

“Reid,” you hiss.

“Don’t start,” he interjects over your complaint.

The incident in question was, of course, an accident. It wasn’t like you had intentionally put your vest on in a rush. There just hadn’t been enough time (which was not a proper excuse, as Hotch had gently but firmly reminded you later), and the loosened straps meant the vest moved around more than it should have when you were running, and the UnSub’s bullet found your side all too easy to graze.

It was stupid, really, but it was one time and nearly two months ago.

None of this was enough to ease the seemingly permanent furrow in Spencer’s brow.

It started as small, albeit irritating, reminders to double-check your vest, which you initially laughed off. But it had now escalated to taking the task entirely off your hands.

Spencer finishes with a final tug.

“Happy?” you ask him flatly. He lifts his concentrated gaze to meet your annoyed one.

“I could do without the sass. But yes,” he says, his shoulders visibly lighter and more content.

“It’s like watching a dad get his daughter ready for Take Your Kid To Work Day,” Morgan teases, rushing out of the room before you can hit him with the closest object at your disposal and leaving just you and Spencer. He rolls his eyes at the poor joke and gently takes said object from your hand.

“I don’t think a pen is going to do much damage,” he says. He loosens a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

You regard him for a few seconds, a small part of you melting at the undeniable softness in his eyes, which are so vast and deep you could stay there forever.

You get it.

It’s the thing about this job. How it forces an eternity to become temporary. How, in 20 minutes, you’ll be hunting down the bad guy but for now, what can feel like forever if you wanted, you’re only here with Spencer.

It’s all fleeting. Your little “incident” had only served as a reminder of that.

And so, Spencer had to take care of you in this way. You both knew that.

“You don’t need to be,” you offer him. He avoids your gaze and you nudge his shoulder with your hand. “Spencer, I’m here, yeah?” That earns you a gentle nudge back and the hint of a smile.

“I know. I’m here, too.”

And here is everywhere and nowhere and, perhaps most importantly, together. A beat, or maybe a forever passes before he speaks again.

“If this were Take Your Kid To Work Day I’d be the worst father in the world.”

Just like that, he’s back and you’re back with him.

Fleeting.

“I am so getting him back for that,” you mumble, making your way to the door. Spencer’s laugh as he follows behind you is all you can hear.

[b14augrana]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Alexia has an epiphany after everything comes to light

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 5 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion.

A/N: it’s finally here, 2 months later! 3.7k words in this one, i’m super proud. happy reading, and please let me know what you think! 💝

With the intention of falling asleep, you slunk in between the mattress and duvet.

Moonlight peeked at you from behind the blinds and danced across your sheets, warping with every movement you carried out beneath the blanket. Reaching out, your fingers were coated in the light, and every crevice in the surface of your skin was emphasised beneath the moon’s pale white illuminance, reminding you of just how many years those fingers had lived through. They’re just hands to hold things with, but it goes beyond just physical things — in between each finger is the phantom of your little brother’s hand when he’s one and learning to walk, bracing you to keep his balance as he toddles around the living room, evoking a proud smile on your face. Scars were peppered along the back of your hand, some little scratches originating from football and others taking the shape of teeth marks inflicted by your siblings. A silver bracelet dangled on your wrist and the charms clinked together, while the blonde hair tie that certainly wasn’t yours sat tightly below it and dented your skin.

Hands would always be hands, no matter how sacrilegious it felt to call them that due to the amount of deep-cutting memories they held. You placed yours down by your side once again, a deep exhale navigating its way out of your body as your muscles relaxed, and you further settled into the uncomfortable makeshift mattress you laid on. The room was cold, the sort of chill that was bliss to fall asleep in but not so lovely to stay awake in. Beside your face, the sheet of the bed flitted gently with every little exhale you let out, and it grazed the tip of your nose, inciting a tickling sensation on your skin. Your legs were constantly shuffling around underneath your blanket, your body tossing and contorting into different positions as you searched for the cold patches of the sheet you laid upon, desperate to fall asleep. You were exhausted beyond belief, yearning for nothing else but the relief of rest, yet you couldn’t find yourself relaxed enough. Deep thoughts, if not worries, were the perpetrator of your sleepless night.

It was hard enough to be sleeping on the floor, let alone trying to sleep while being tormented and jeered by your own flurry of thoughts and criticisms of the day’s events that overwhelmed your mind. For a time in which you wanted silence in your own head, your mind was obnoxiously alive, every thought amplified and incoherent. It felt like the ultimate betrayal to fall asleep, knowing the few hours left with your siblings would waste away during your slumber and you’d wake up to spend one more fleeting moment with them before they were gone, possibly forever.

There hadn’t been a word from the police about your mother all week. That was one more thing to be worried about, as you wondered how she was doing. Had she been admitted to the rehabilitation facility, like the social worker said? Would she even get the help she needed; proper, meaningful help, to get her life back on track? Most importantly, would it be enough to make her less of a hazard and more of a backbone in your siblings’ lives, contrary to all these years they had spent raised among her bottles? You were still afraid to return to your home. Whether she was there or not, it would feel like stepping into a graveyard of everything you had ever loved. The walls that could’ve once recounted the tales of the happiest of families… would they be traumatised into silence? It was a house, but it was nobody’s home anymore.

You hadn’t even given so much of a thought to work, and the sudden acknowledgement of your career’s existence awakened another restless surge of emotions inside of you. You had little faith in hoping that Alexia would understand your situation, regardless of what Vicky had advised. There wasn’t much to lose anymore if you did tell her, because your siblings were getting taken away anyways, but you still wanted to keep that deeply corrupted part of your life hidden away from her for as long as possible. You had yet to tell Vicky about the fostering conversation that happened at the police station earlier that day, but you hadn’t even fully processed it yourself; it would be virtually impossible to focus and get anything done at work, no matter how hard you tried, and you’d rather just stay home instead of get an Alexia lecture special to seal off your already shitty week of ordeals.

It made you sad, honestly. When you first got promoted to the first team you were everything; Barça's stargirl, the promise of a bright future for the blaugrana and the telltale signs of a worthy successor to Alexia's captaincy. Now... despite the performances you put up on the field that still won over the support of the public, you felt like the complete opposite was happening. With every step forward in football came five steps backwards in your personal life, and another step back in your relationship with Alexia.

Some would probably ask you why you were so afraid to come clean to your captain about your situation, the real reason why you're so tardy and 'irresponsible', and the worst part was, you couldn't give them a reason. It was daunting to tell Vicky — probably the most understanding person you could've confided in — so you couldn't even begin to imagine how you'd tell Alexia. Such a decision was made harder when you paid attention to the part of yourself yearning to tell her; though you didn't know if she had any experience regarding the foster system, alcoholism or anything relating to your ordeal, she was older, wiser, and had authority. You wanted to be able to open up to her about everything that has maimed you since you were 13, seek help from your captain, and receive the help for yourself that you’ve always provided for others. It was easier said than done.

The pursuit of help in itself was difficult. Confiding in anyone was a concept that you feared, even if you weren’t explicitly aware of that fact yourself. In a way, it felt like admitting that you had failed at fulfilling your only purpose — protecting your siblings from harm, and keeping them safe.

You glanced up to the bed beside you. You could just barely see a sliver of Magdalene’s forehead and the tip of her pinkish nose; the duvet was bunched because of her curled fist that was closed around it; the sound of her barely audible breathing was a daunting reminder that indeed, she was real. She was living and experiencing this just as you were. Yes, she would wake up and, as well as Dani and Lorenzo, they’d be whisked away for who knows how long — thrusted into the foster system, likely to be seen as mere charity cases and troubled kids with virtually nothing good going for them. Nobody would genuinely care about them. Someone would tolerate them out of pity, maybe, because they'd feel like they're obligated to be some sort of token of goodness in their poor, miserable lives. They'd hardly be tolerated because they deserve it; hell, their own father couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. The social workers saw tha, heard that and witnessed that, then still proceeded to think that there’ll be someone else out there that does, if not their own blood.

Pathetic, you thought. He was pathetic, lame, and utterly so. Everything in your life seemed that way since it began to crumble before your eyes. So, despite the fact you really didn’t want to at this moment, you shut your eyes and prepared for sleep. Those few moments of unconsciousness were your only refuge. At the end of the day, you always came back craving that moment of ignorance towards the rest of your calamitous reality.

The next day, before you could even open your eyes, you were weighed down by insurmountable feelings of dread. You were awake, but you just refused to open your eyes, because that would indicate that the day had begun and you’d have to face the events that were waiting. The sun replaced the pale moonlight as it seeped through the gaps in the blinds, much to your dismay — it was yet another reminder of the day that awaited you, another thing for you to scorn at and curse about under your breath as you turned your back away and buried your head back in the pillow. With only half of your face in the pillow, you opened your exposed eye ever so slightly and squinted at the screen of your phone as it lit up with a message. For a moment, a surge of fear coursed through your body as you considered the possibility of the text being from Alexia. An angry text was the last thing you needed right now, and you couldn’t help the scowl that tugged at your features as you mulled over the many things she could’ve texted you to convey her annoyance. Would it be a simple three word text, so she could really get into you at work, or an extensive paragraph so she could give you the cold shoulder for the entire duration of training? You never knew what it would be with your captain.

You crawled out of your pitiful excuse of a bed on the floor, your muscles slightly stiff from the lack of a comfortable surface you had been forced to sleep on. Dropping the blanket to the floor, you trudged over to the door, adjusting your shirt that was sitting askew on your torso. You shut the door behind you silently, so as to not disturb your siblings, before proceeding to walk down the hallway and towards the kitchen of Vicky’s home. You were eternally grateful for both her and her mother’s hospitality during this time, and you made a mental note to make that explicitly clear to Vicky as you walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Before even entering the room, you knew she’d be awake and ready for training; she was young and eager, like you had been at one point.

“Bon día,” you mumbled, your voice still hoarse and riddled with exhaustion as you slumped into a chair at the dining table. Vicky, who had been chopping up an apple, paused in her tracks and looked at you. For a moment, her eyes examined your state, and the slight wrinkle of her forehead was far from lost on you, but she still offered a smile and a ‘bon día’ in response. A snapping sound echoed through the kitchen as Vicky sealed the container she had put her apple slices into, and she turned around to walk over to the dining table and pull a chair out beside you. She looked at you for a moment, her chin resting in the palm of her hand, brown eyes roving over your face again, before she spoke; “How are you?”

It was obvious enough, but you still humoured her. “Honestly, Vicky, I’m horrible. I texted Jona and told him I’m not coming in today,” you responded, your voice flat and completely devoid of the energetic lilt it usually possessed. The main reason you weren’t going into work was because you physically couldn’t bring yourself to play any football while knowing your siblings were being taken away from everything they’ve ever known. The reason you gave Jona was, you didn’t feel well and had been up all night with a stomach ache. That would have to suffice.

“Okay. Well, text me if you need anything — and I mean it. Actually text me, don’t just nod and say you will,” Vicky said sternly, pointing a finger at you to further make a point. You rolled your eyes playfully, and your lips curled into the faintest of smiles as you nodded. “I will. Promise.”

“Good,” Vicky replied, standing up from the dining table and bending down to pick her training bag up, slinging it on her shoulder. She knew the real reason for your day off, but she didn’t mention it or ask you what your excuse had been. The telltale signs of uneasiness that were written all over your face gave her the answer she was looking for anyway. “I’m heading off. I’ll see you later, alright?” she spoke again, and you nodded, your smile broadening ever so slightly. “See you.”

You watched her leave the house and shut the front door behind her with a click. For some reason, watching her leave for training made you miss playing football, but you simply weren’t anywhere near fit for training — mentally or physically. The sport used to be your reprieve from all sorts of upsetting emotions and a distraction from your troubles, but now… it had turned into one of those troubles. God, how you missed the early stages of your career, the time when you had been a promising young talent on the rise, when football was fun. You still had time, and you definitely had the potential; you were only 18, you had heaps of time, but even then, it felt like every day, your talent dwindled even more, and soon you’d be left with none. You’d merely be another ‘what-if’, a wasted talent, and that’s not the outcome you had worked so hard for your entire life, back when it was good. Back when your family was still intact.

“Hermana,” a little voice called out from the stairs. You turned to look in the direction of the sound, and your eyes settled on Magdalene, who was standing on the last step and rubbing her eyes. You could hear faint bickering from Dani and Lorenzo upstairs in the bedroom, and a little smile tugged at your lips. Something about the sound of their childish arguing warmed your heart, despite knowing you’d have to tell them to cut it out. It was good to know that they still indulged in the trivial things, like children their age should be doing. You beckoned Magdalene over to the table and stood up from your own seat, walking over to the kitchen. “You hungry, hermanita?” you asked her, opening cupboards to see what there was to make. “Sí, tengo mucha hambre,” she responded softly. You nodded as you opened the fridge, and your gaze landed on a carton of eggs.

The eggs turned into golden pieces of French toast that you put onto four plates and served with drizzles of maple syrup and icing sugar dusted on top. Magdalene was practically salivating, her little face lit up with excitement as she watched the process, and she let out an excited exclamation when her share was slid across the table to her. Dani and Lorenzo’s expressions mirrored hers almost exactly, and from the moment the plate touched their placemats, they began to ravage their food. You took your seat and ate like a normal human being, enjoying and savouring every bite, secretly surprised at how well the French toast had turned out. Cooking was — surprisingly — something you possessed a fair bit of skill in. You had to learn how to cook so you could continue to feed your siblings good, nutritious food; occasionally, you’d treat them to a restaurant dining experience, but oftentimes you’d make them something at home. They loved whatever you put on the table for them.

Breakfast that morning was something you’d hold close to your heart. All four of you sat around the table and talked, bantered, laughed and ate your food. Dani and Lorenzo went back and forth with their opinions about how they thought the upcoming Barça men’s fixture was going to go, while Magdalene updated you on the latest doll she had her eye on. You nodded along enthusiastically, of course, while occasionally chipping into the boys’ conversation with your opinion. To them, they probably just got carried away with their conversations, but for you, it was a bit more… calculated. Usually, you’d tell them to hurry up, and you’d eat your food faster, but you took only a couple bites every few minutes, and you were doing quite a bit of talking too. You were trying to stall as much as you could to avoid the inevitable.

Vicky arrived at the pitch twenty minutes after leaving home. She gave her mother a brief kiss on the cheek before grabbing her training gear and hopping out of the car. The things you had said to her the day before still loomed over her head. She was worried for you, more than she had expressed, because she knew you would just insist that you were fine and worrying about you was a waste of time… but she still worried. She could see the toll it was all taking on you, and Alexia didn’t make it any easier on you. She’d watch from afar, the type of interactions you two would have, and it honestly made her more irritated than she would like to admit. She would watch Alexia’s gaze harden whenever it settled on you, and the venomous lilt to her words when she addressed you. Not to mention, the fact she would never let you explain yourself; Vicky had to be honest, she was growing a little concerned and curious as to why you were beginning to show up late more often, but now, she realised you actually had many reasons to show up a few minutes late to training.

Her training bag hit the pitch with a dull thud as she dropped it beside the bench. She sat down beside it and pulled her boots up, a few specks of dirt flying out simultaneously, and she hit the studs together to get the mud off the soles of her boots. As she was preparing to put her right boot on, a figure stalked over to her and towered above her, simply watching. When she looked up, she internally groaned when she saw Alexia, and the annoyed look on her face. Vicky already knew where this was heading.

“Vicky, where on earth is (Y/N)?” she asked, her tone slightly speculatory. Vicky let out an inaudible sigh before responding. “She doesn’t feel well, so she isn’t coming in today.” It was a lie, and a blatant one at that, but it wasn’t the truth, which was what Vicky had to avoid revealing.

Alexia gave an exclamation akin to a scoff, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I see. She’s still as irresponsible as ever! She’ll take any excuse to not come into work, I’m sick and tired of it, seriously. She shouldn’t be playing for the first team if she behaves like this—”

“Alexia, just stop! She isn’t ‘irresponsible’; she has a lot going on, and it would put you to shame if you knew about it. I respect you — you know that — but come on,” Vicky cut her off, her tone of voice slightly exasperated. It took Alexia aback, because up until now, she hadn’t heard Vicky talk back in such a way, and it stifled her for a moment. ‘A lot going on? What is that supposed to mean?’ Alexia thought to herself. Her contemplation was written all over her face, but Vicky merely got a glimpse before she stood up and grabbed her bags, walking away from Alexia with a disbelieving shake of her head, leaving her captain to mull her words over and decipher the meaning behind them.

When she was far enough away from Alexia, she sat back down on the grass with a huff, and the reality of what she just did dawned on her. It was indirect, but still, the notion was there, and she felt a prominent sense of guilt settle in her abdomen. Shit. How was she going to explain that to you, if it came to that?

Meanwhile, Alexia stood by the bench like a statue, in a state of deep contemplation as she tried to work out what exactly Vicky meant. Her words replayed in her mind over and over again, and her eyebrows furrowed as she thought long and hard about it. ‘She has a lot going on, and it would put you to shame if you knew about it’… What could you possibly have been going through that elicited such a defensive response from Vicky, who was hardly one to react in such a way? She thought about trying to get more out of Vicky and do a bit of probing, but she was rooted to the spot.

She glanced over at Vicky, subconsciously gnawing at the inside of her cheek, before she finally took a step towards her. She hesitated for a second, but then she continued, deciding that it was irreversible, now that she had taken the first step. Her expression was softer now, and her forehead was devoid of the irritated wrinkles it previously donned, as she approached the younger girl.

“Vicky,” Alexia spoke, taking purposeful strides towards Vicky. She sank down to the grass beside her, lazily extending her legs outwards and leaning back on her forearms. Vicky looked up, and her face was ever so slightly riddled with worry, but she didn’t protest against Alexia sitting down with her. “What did you mean about (Y/N)? What does she have going on?” the older woman asked, curiosity seeping into her words.

Vicky sighed. She knew this conversation was inevitable, and there was no way she could backtrack on her words, so she just steeled herself for the explanation she had to offer; Alexia was the captain after all, and like Vicky had tried telling you, maybe she could help you out, if she just knew what was happening. Alexia picked up on her expression of resignation, but she stayed silent and waited for Vicky to speak. Something about the tense air that lingered between them told Alexia that this conversation wasn’t a simple one to be having.

“Get comfortable,” Vicky finally responded, tying the laces of her right boot, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I am, because…”

“I hope you’ll help her, Alexia. She needs your help.”

[withleeknow]

my moon and stars.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting) fluff; even tho it's unedited this is still one of my favorite things that i've written on this blog so far !!! gaaaaaaah word count: 1.1k listen to 🎧: lover - taylor swift

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

nobody thought jeongin would be the next one to get married, but alas, here you are, at the reception of your friend's wedding, nursing a glass of champagne.

"come on," minho says, snatching the glass away from you and finishing the rest of it in one gulp, before he takes you by the hand and tugs you forward. "let’s go dance."

you can't even be annoyed that he basically just stole your drink. instead, you just laugh, and let the love of your life drag you to the dance floor.

he guides you to move in a slow rhythm, matching the tempo of the song that's playing in the background. it's a song that you would usually think is overrated and has been played to hell and back, but in the moment, drunk on the cozy atmosphere, you think it's nice. you briefly wonder what song you would choose for your first dance at your own wedding.

it's just a fleeting thought. you've been having those all day.

jeongin's wedding was beautiful. everything was done to perfection, and you have no doubt that most of it was overseen by his girlfriend.

nope, correction: she's his wife now.

nevertheless, you've been imagining yourself and minho in a similar setting. you in a stunning white dress. him, dashing in a classy suit. the two of you exchanging vows with teary eyes in front of your friends and families. the cats as ring bearers. sealing forever with a deep kiss and fond smiles.

as you continue to sway along to the music, you wrap your arms around minho's neck and pull him closer. there's something in the way that he's been treating you all day that makes you melt even more than it usually does. he's been more touchy; there's not a single moment where his hands aren't on your body in any way, whether it be a hand on your knee, on the small of your back, or an arm around your waist. minho isn't often overt with his affection like that; he tends to dote on you in the privacy of your own loving bubble, away from anyone and everyone.

then, there's the softness that he's looking at you with in his chocolate brown eyes. it's warm, saccharine; it makes you feel like you two are the only people left in the room even though this is supposed to be someone else's big day.

"i love you," he says suddenly, brushing his nose against yours before leaning in just a tad closer to your lips, "you mean the world to me."

it's rare for minho to say things like this out of the blue. he's a man of few words after all.

he's full of surprises today, it seems.

"what's the occasion?" you ask with a coy smile.

"no occasion. just wanted to tell you that."

you close the distance, pressing your lips against his as his arms wrap themselves tighter around your body. "i love you too," you smile against him.

he mirrors your smile, and kisses you deeper. he's so sweet today, so openly loving with you even as your friends around you watch on.

you have an inkling that maybe, just maybe, he's been thinking the same things as you.

you stay in each other's arms until the song ends, then another one, then a couple more, just basking in soothing glow of love that's covering the air tonight. minutes pass with kisses shared, until it's finally time for the bouquet toss.

minho reluctantly lets you leave his side for the first time since the morning. his eyes follow you as you move to the front of the room, standing a comfortable distance away from the bride. you've never really been interested in this kind of things anyway; you're just doing it for the sake of participation.

everyone else is engrossed in what's about to happen, their eyes fixed on the bride and the peonies in her hands, but minho is only focused on you. you, who's trying to blend in with the group of people and undoubtedly praying that the bouquet doesn't make its way into your hands. you, whom he thinks looks so beautiful, all dolled up for the special occasion. you, who made his heart stutter when you walked into the room in your pretty dress and flashed him a bashful smile. (but who is he kidding? you make his heart want to give out and run away every single morning when he wakes up and sees you peacefully sleeping in his arms.)

just you. always only you.

you, you, you.

you don't hang in the moon in the sky. you are the moon, you are the stars.

minho watches you watch the bride as she counts down from 3, then flings the bouquet up in the air while everyone waits with bated breath. it's a mess of flailing arms from what he can tell, a couple of the bridesmaids practically fighting each other to try and grab the damn thing.

you try to make yourself smaller, to duck lower so that the others could have the honor instead of you. but when the flowers come hurling toward you, you have no choice but to raise your hands and catch it, lest you want to be lobbed in the face with a bouquet of peonies.

some of the people around you sigh frustratedly, but most of the guys around minho suddenly burst into loud cheers. they clap him on the back and shake him by the shoulders but still, he remains transfixed on you and your adorable wide-eyed expression. your parted lips and doe eyes blinking fast as a rosy flush creeps up your skin.

your eyes find him in an instant, and you both just stare at each other for a moment. he reckons that you're trying to gauge his reaction, because the room is now filled with excited squeals of congratulations and half-hearted jokes of how you and minho are going to be the next ones to get hitched.

you look uncertain, still frozen in place with your hands clutching the peonies.

but then he just smiles, and it makes you smile too, your body immediately relaxing as you give him a wave using the bouquet, your shoulders slumping slightly when you release a sigh.

to minho, it doesn't matter whether you caught the flowers or not; neither of you believes in that kind of stuff anyway. it doesn't matter because he's always known that he was going to marry you, that there's no one else he would rather spend the rest of his life with.

it doesn't matter because unbeknownst to you, he's already got a velvet box hidden somewhere in your shared home, with a gorgeous diamond ring inside just waiting for the day it can be put on your finger.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.01.2024]

[stwrrybwrry]

Thinking of when you and gumi get into a fight... 💭

⊹　 ︶︶　 𖹭᪲　 ︶︶　 ⊹

Bf megumi! Who had been slipping further away each day, his gaze colder, more withdrawn, like he’d buried himself in shadows. Every time you tried to offer comfort or a gentle touch, he seemed to resent it. He acted as though your presence was a burden, something weighing him down rather than helping. You started to wonder if he even cared about what you were trying to do for him, you wondered if he even cared about you anymore.

Bf megumi! Who one night, after another icy silence, you found the courage to ask, “Megumi, what’s wrong? Why won’t you just talk to me?” He stopped, barely even glancing your way, his tone biting. “Why do you keep asking?” he shot back, anger creeping into his voice. “Do you really think you’re helping? Just stop—stop acting like you know anything about what I’m going through.”

Bf megumi! Who’s words stunned you, but you pushed back, telling him you were trying to understand because you cared about him. He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Care? You care because it makes you feel better. It’s like you need to feel important, like you’re actually helping. But the truth is, you’re just in the way.” The words hit like a slap, tearing down every effort you’d made, making you feel small and out of place in his life.

Bf Megumi! Who you looked at him, trying to hold back the pain, but he only grew colder. “Honestly, it’d be better if you just stayed out of my life,” he muttered, his voice harsh and unrelenting. “All you’re doing is making things worse. I don’t need you hovering around like you’re some savior. You’re only making this harder for me.” His words cut deeper than any blade, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart splinter under the weight of his indifference.

Bf Megumi! Who just when you thought he’d said it all, he looked you straight in the eye, his gaze empty and unfeeling. “You don’t belong here—you don’t understand anything about this world. You’re just… useless to me.” His voice was a final blow, shattering whatever pieces of your heart you had left. You swallowed back tears, giving him one last look before you turned and walked away, leaving him behind in the shadows he seemed to crave.

Bf Megumi! Who’s months passed, and as his anger dissolved, guilt took its place. Megumi couldn’t shake the image of your face, the pain in your eyes as his words had ripped through you. The silence he’d wanted so badly now felt suffocating, the emptiness left by your absence a constant reminder of what he’d destroyed. He didn’t understand why he said those things to you. He loved you dearly, is what he thought.

So imagine Megumi when he finally sees you from afar, a lighter smile on your face as you talk with someone else, a friend or perhaps something more. His chest tightens as he realizes you might be moving on, leaving behind the hurt he caused. For a brief moment, your eyes meet, but there’s only a fleeting recognition before you turn away, leaving him in a silence that now feels like punishment. He watches as you disappear into the crowd, haunted by the memory of all the things he said, and the reality that he may never get the chance to make it right. Because at the end of the day, he can only stand there, the bitter truth settled in—his cruel words had not just pushed you away, but had severed the fragile thread that held your hearts together, leaving him to drown in the unbearable silence of what could have been him and you, together forever.

≿————-　ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🌷་༘࿐　————-≾

[kokonoisgf]

Cold - Chuuya Nakahara (m)

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

❀ character: Chuuya Nakahara

❀ tw: MINORS DNI 18+ sexual explicit content (fem reader) : pet names, cursing, slight bondage, praises, 'baby', 'princess', he's so in love w you!!!

❀ note: Getting back into writing woooo!! let me know what you think hehe, more Chuuya stuff coming, because I am forever in love with that man (っ˘ڡ˘ς) (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

❀ word count: 3.5k

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

‘I thought I told you to stay home’ Grumbled Chuuya from under his blankets. His forehead shone with a thin layer of sweat, his eyes glistening with sickness. His gaze was inevitably glued to you who leaned near his bedside table preparing what seemed like his medicine. He thanked whatever god was out there for the warm, thick blanket covering him, because the way you bent over measuring his medicine would be the death of him. The short skirt you wore left little to none to the imagination. He tried desperately to look away, but the curves of your ass were barely covered with that baby blue lace, which only made it harder for him to pry his gaze away.

It was as if you were doing this on purpose, trying to rile him up. As you neared him holding the cup containing the foul smelling liquid, he propped himself up, blanket pooling at his waist. His chiselled chest exposed, he could feel his heart trash around his chest. His cold really wasn’t that bad to be honest, it was more so the way your every move or glance had his heart leaping that kept him on edge.

‘You didn’t have to do all this, I'm fine.’ Chuuya muttered, his voice raspier now, almost sounding like a growl. His slight fevered state only heightened his awareness of you, and your every movement truly only seemed designed to torment him.

You gave him a small, teasing smile as you handed him the medicine. ‘I couldn’t leave you like this,’ you said, your voice soft and sweet, but there was a knowing gleam in your eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, how much power you held over him in this moment. Chuuya’s hand trembled slightly as he took the cup from you, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He mentally cursed himself for being so reactive, his whole being putty in the palm of your hand. He downed the medicine quickly, wincing at the bitter taste, his eyes falling back on you.

Sitting on the bed next to him, you pressed the back of your hand to his forehead, leaning forward. A concerned expression covered your face as you checked his temperature. Chuuya’s gaze flickered to your exposed cleavage, feeling himself get dizzy for a hot second. Scoffing, he turned his gaze away, cheeks almost matching his fiery hair.

He fought so damn hard to keep his gaze elsewhere, anywhere but there. But it was impossible. The way your shirt dipped, the curves of your breasts… He squeezed his eyes shut, frustrated by the growing storm raging inside him.

‘Chuuya you’re so red, are you alright?’ He blinked, looking back at you, the same sly smile covering your features. God- You were so close, he felt as if he was hallucinating. His heart raced as you leaned in, your face hovering inches from his. The warmth of your breath ghosted over his skin, making his already fevered body feel like it was burning up from the inside out. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the way your eyes sparkled with amusement.

‘I told you I’m fine,’ he muttered, though his voice betrayed him with a slight tremble.

‘Just… feeling a bit hot.’ he added quickly, though he knew it wasn’t just the cold making him feel this way. You smiled, your fingers gently brushing through his ginger locks .

"Maybe you need something to cool down then, take your mind off this cold." you teased, your voice soft and soothing, but there was an underlying tension that neither of you could ignore. Chuuya felt torn between wanting to pull you closer and trying to maintain some level of composure.

‘You're… making this hard,’ he said, his voice shaking slightly. He was rapidly losing his composure. His eyes flickered, desperately searching for a distraction, but you had him completely cornered. His body felt heavy from both the cold and the undeniable tension crackling between the two of you. You were close—too close—and every fibre of his being was aware of it. The sound of your soft breathing, the scent of your perfume, and the warmth that radiated from you made his pulse quicken.

‘Oh really? How so?,’ you replied, your tone light, but your eyes betrayed a deeper understanding of the effect you had on him. Chuuya gulped, his sapphire eyes completely lost in yours. His cock was hard, oh so embarrassingly hard after not even a single touch from you. The blanket somewhat hid it a little, but he fidgeted under the covers, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. He gritted his teeth, struggling to keep his composure, but your proximity and the way your eyes sparkled with mischief weren’t helping.

‘You know exactly what you’re doing,’ he growled softly, the frustration in his voice evident. He wasn’t just battling this stupid cold anymore; he was attempting an unwinnable fight against his body right now. It was utterly betraying him, the blanket now doing little to conceal his hardening cock. He shifted, trying to find some comfort, but every movement only seemed to create delicious friction that his body desperately craved.

‘Maybe I do, but do you mind?’ You cooed, your hand softly cupping his cheek as you leaned forward again, your gaze catching his. His cheeks caught on fire at the softness of your hand and your cleavage once again in full display for him. Your touch felt both featherlight and electrifying at the same time, and Chuuya knew he was damn well already under your spell. It was no news to him though, he had always been fond of you.

‘I-’ He paused, silently cursing himself for how utterly desperate his voice sounded ‘I… don’t mind’ He admitted, gaze quickly looking off to the side as if avoiding yours trying desperately to hide his feelings. His chest tightened, and for a moment, panic seized him. Did he really just admit how much he wanted you?

He feared the cold had lowered his defence, fearing to spill even more of his heart to you in the midst of something happening. It wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing, it was quite the opposite actually. He couldn’t even recall the number of times he found his gaze drifting to you naturally, wondering how your lips would taste on his, how you’d feel clawing at his back as he made sweet sweet love to you, but more importantly how it would feel to call you his.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut a knife, as you gazed at him intently. Your teasing look subtly transformed into one of pure admiration hinting to something much deeper, your feelings for him shining like a lighthouse into the dark sea.

‘Chuuya, can I… touch you?’ Your voice was sweet, contrasting with your other hand trailing down his chest, deliriously close to the hem of his underwear. There was no mistaking the tent in his boxers by now, visible even through the thick blanket. Chuuya felt his face heat up, feeling completely exposed, his throat dry. Mind reeling, he nodded eagerly — a little too eagerly — eliciting a small smile from you. There was nothing more he wanted on this earth than to to feel the subtle touch of your fingers against his skin, or your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Stop.

God— He was so desperate, for your touch feeling as if this cold only intensified the sensitivity of his body. His hands clenched the blanket, desperate for something to ground him, but nothing could quell the ache. He felt like his mind was spinning, insides twisting as his eyes were glued to your hand, and how with each passing second it neared where he needed you most.

‘W-Wait-’ Chuuya’s voice trembled as his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting you in your movement. His mind snapped, actions registering before he could even wrap his mind around what even he was going to say. His body was on fire, every nerve alive conflicting with both his sickness and the sheer desire for you, but there was something prevailing on his mind. He couldn’t let himself give in, not without saying what had been on his mind for so long.

‘I can’t… I have something to say.’ His voice was low, a rough whisper full of frustration and vulnerability. He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for feeling so exposed. This wasn’t how he imagined pouring his heart out, no never in a million years. But the cold, the heat of your body, your soft touches—it had all stripped away his usual defences.

Your expression softened, your hand still resting on his chest, fingers curling lightly against his heated skin. ‘What is it Chuuya?’ you asked, your voice gentle.

He opened his eyes, sapphire depths meeting yours, and in that instant, something broke free inside him. ‘I… Fuck- I care about you okay? Like, really care about you. And not just in the way you’re probably thinking right now.’ He glanced down, his face flushed with both fever and embarrassment, but he forced himself to meet your gaze again and keep on going. He could not allow himself to get intimate with you if you did not return his feelings — he was not like that. The memories would haunt him for life if he did.

‘I’ve thought about this moment—I mean, us—more times than I can even remember. And it’s not just about wanting you physically, though Fuck- God knows I do.’ He paused, exhaling a shaky breath, his length straining against the thin material of his underwear as if to prove his statement. The words were spilling out of his mouth before he even had time to think about them, but his heart was being truthful right now, so vulnerable.

‘I can’t stand the thought of someone else with you - I need you all to myself. I want all of you to myself, not just tonight, not just because I'm sick and you’re there. But for real’

He let out a sigh of frustration, feeling as if he couldn’t express the depth of his feelings properly. Running a shaky hand through his hair, his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks reddening as he looked off toward the dim light of his bedside table.

‘I just… I love you a lot, that's what I'm trying to say..’ He admitted, his voice cracking slightly at the end, and his grip on your wrist loosened. He let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he swore he felt like he was on the verge of a heart attack. There was a silence and Chuuya swore that these were the longest five seconds of his life. He had battled the most fearsome enemies in Yokohama, but nothing scared him more than meeting your gaze right now, to be faced with the truth of your feelings.

‘Chuuya…’ your melodic voice rang through his ear, and he bit down on his lips, feeling your hand cup his cheek once again. Leaning into your touch, his lashes fluttered close for an instant, basking into your warmth. It felt good really, to pour his heart out, like an indescribable weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

‘I love you too, I always have. I wouldn’t have come here to take care of you, or proposed this, if I wasn’t feeling the same’ Chuuya’s gaze flew to meet yours. Did he heard you right? Or had the fever finally gone to his head making him hallucinate? His face now matching with his fiery hair, he exhaled another shaky sigh, mouth parting and closing trying to find the right words to say.

‘I- Damn it- Need’ you so bad’ It was like he had been given the golden key that unlocked the gates to heaven, and he knew he couldn’t wait anymore. Knowing that you felt the same, his long fingers intertwined with yours, pushing you down onto the bed, climbing on top of you. Pining both your wrists above your head, his body faintly glowed red, his gravity-manipulation ability forcing a gentle weight on your wrists, rendering you unable to move them.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on the way his cock absolutely strained against the material of his underwear. A wet spot adorned the front of his boxer, the shadow it created only amplifying the wetness between your legs.

Struggling against the invisible restraints, your doe eyes met his. ‘Chuuya, you’re the one who should be resting. C’mon let me touch you..’ You cooed, desperately wanting to pleasure him first, but he was not like that. Even if he was at death's door you would come first, so it was not like a silly little cold would change any of that.

‘Waited too long, need to have you. This cold can go to hell.’ He mindlessly babbled, as his lips found refuge in the crook of your neck, before capturing yours in a heated kiss. His fingers grazed your skin as if he was afraid you might disappear any second, the scene unfolding before him feeling like a dream. He was so afraid that he’d wake up to square one, needing to ground himself deeply into reality.

The kiss was desperate, full of the longing he’d kept hidden for so long. He poured every ounce of his feelings into it, his lips moving against yours in a tender yet demanding way. Your body arched beneath him, pressing into his touch, but his ability kept you pinned down firmly against the mattress. You moaned in the kiss, tongues twirling as he pulled away, thumb resting on your bottom lip.

‘Open up for me, would you, doll?’ A hint of command prickled in his words, your lips parted almost instantly and before you knew it, he had leaned forward his spit dribbling down into your mouth.

‘Good girl, such a good girl to me’ His voice was hoarse, rough with lust, his gaze almost midnight blue by now. He could tell he had long gone and lost his composure, his raw instincts taken over. Swallowing his spit, you moaned, lifting your legs to wrap them around his hips. Chuuya felt his brain short-circuit when your clothed core pressed against his length, the warmth and sheer wetness making him see stars. Cursing under his breath, a strand of his ginger hair slipped past his shoulder as his cheeks flushed. Fingers digging your skin, his knuckles turned white, his tongue darting out to wet his pink lips. Lashes fluttering shut, your head fell back against the pillowcase, beads of sweat trickling down your cleavage. Your skirt had riled up, exposing your panties and bare juicy thighs, your voice resonating through the room.

‘Need you inside me’ You whimpered out, and Chuuya swore he could cum from your pleading voice alone. Your pussy was quivering begging for any type of friction, feeling your walls clench around nothing had you going mad.

‘Fu-Fuck yea okay- I got you princess’ Normally he thought he’d have made you wait a bit more for it, but he truly didn't have it in himself to make you wait. Was it because you looked so utterly vulnerable beneath him under the spell of his ability, or maybe it was simply because he had daydreamed about this moment for so long that he felt like waiting was not even an option. He had no idea, but he knew he needed your soft walls around him. Positioning his length, Chuuya shoots you another bashful glance.

‘Hey.. you sure you’re okay with this?’ He asked, as if trying to ground himself that this was really reality, that you truly wanted him. It still felt surreal to him somehow. You nodded, arching your back

‘Please Chuuya’ Your begging felt like sweet music to his ears, his long fingers quickly discarded your panties, his eyes glued to your soaked cunt.

‘So wet- God, you’re so beautiful” Rocking your hips against his, Chuuya hissed, his eyes rolling in the back of his skull. Pressing his body forward he gently started filling you up inch by inch. He felt small whimpers threaten to escape his parted lips, his breathing uneven already. The stretch felt delicious, your walls fluttered against his cock nestling comfortably inside you. The ache was so good, his cock filling you up so perfectly. Leaning his forehead against yours, he never once broke eye contact as his hips started moving.

‘Takin’ me so well, look at your pretty pussy’ He rasped, his sapphire gaze glued to the way your cunt swallowed him whole, a thin ring of cum already coating his dick. He felt like he was floating. Building rhythm, Chuuya couldn't help but moan seeing you so vulnerable under him. As much as he absolutely loved seeing you struggle against the invisible restraints of his ability, he desperately needed your hands all over him. The faint crimson glow of his ability subsidised as you regained control over your arms, as a dusted blush covered his face.

‘Touch me.. Please’ He begged shyly, and you couldn’t help but comply. His shy side was so endearing to you. He never showed it to anyone, considering it somewhat of a weakness, but it made you want to do anything and everything for him. Legs wrapped around his waist, your hips met his at a rough pace, your hands leaving no skin untouched. You were impatient. Impatient to have him coat your walls white with his cum, needing him all to yourself. Your hands trailed up his chest, nails clawing at his skin before bringing him down for a passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, saliva mingling as his hot breath fanned against your lips. He broke the kiss from time to time to release whimpers and grunts, mindlessly blabbing how much he loved and adored you.

His pace was ruthless, never once stopping for a breather, before his long fingers gripped the underside of your knees angling you up. You yelped as the Executive’s pace increased tenfold, hitting your sweet spot instantly as if he’d known your body since the beginning of time. You were completely impaled on his cock, the sudden thrusts of his hips making your eyes water in pleasure, moans of his name endlessly pouring from your lips.

Feeling the inevitable coil in his stomach about to snap, his thumb met your pearl needing to make you cum on his dick before he could even begin to think about releasing deep into you.

‘My pretty girl.. C’mon give it to me’ His soft words doubled with the way he looked at you were more than enough to make you unravel under him. A choked out whimper leaves your lips as the overstimulation from his dick’s relentless pace and thumb over your clit has you gushing beneath him.

‘That’s right- cum on on my cock baby-’ His breath fanned against the shell of your ear, his hot breath tingling your skin like wildfire. The feeling of your walls fluttering around his length inevitably sent him spiralling as well as he halted, cockhead kissing your cervix, hips stuttering. Mind hazy, a silent cry escaped his parted lips, as one of his hands grasped yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Intertwining his fingers with yours he huffed and puffed heavily.

‘I-I’m gonna-’ He stuttered trying to warn you, beads of sweat dripping down his fair skin and you swore that in this moment he never looked this beautiful. It wasn’t long until your pussy was filled to the brim with his cum, feeling him softly collapse on top of you, his head on your chest.

Your heartbeat was so soothing as he tried catching his breath. Your fingers tangled in his orange locks, gently caressing his scalp. Looking up to meet your gaze, he felt on cloud 9, one of his hands coming to caress your cheek.

‘I love you so much..’ he whispered earnestly, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead. Eyes falling on your exposed cunt, he couldn't help but notice the way a mix of both your juices dribbled down your thigh. A surge of heat rushed over his whole body at the realisation that he released deep - deep inside your pussy. Something primal light up inside him, his eyes darkening again. Long fingers tilting your pretty fucked out face to meet his, he looked at you silently. He needed more - He had waited way too long to have you and now he was insatiable. He could be greedy right? Just for tonight?

Feeling his dick harden again at the sight before him, Chuuya looked off to the side at the clock on his wall. 1:07 am, it indicated.

He had all night after all, he’d just rest tomorrow. This cold truly could go to hell.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

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[em-ontv]

Reach for me.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!reader

Summary: he couldn’t love—or didn’t want to love, and you loved too much, so he did what he does best—push people away, push you away.

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol consumption, reference to physical violence (not to reader), internal conflict/self-loathing, self-sabotage (Ben), no use of y/n, English isn't my first language

A/n: okay, I was suppose to be working on 'sing a song for me" part 2 but I am very very stuck so I decided to write this. I promise it'll come out soon, I know it's been so long :'(

Word count: 1.2k

You thought you'd seen the worst of him already. The anger, the bitter sarcasm that he tossed carelessly, the silent stretches that left you feeling invisible. And it wasn't as though Ben was ever easy to love. He was a wreck half the time, and he did everything to make sure you knew you were disposable.

He had been in plenty of beds, all warmth and fleeting sighs—but empty. Nights were easy—it was everything that came after that he had no patience for.

Commitment? Stability? It wasn't his thing. He wasn’t the settling-down type, he’d tell himself. And he sure wasn’t made for a "forever." And yet… he’d come back to you, again and again, as if some part of him couldn’t help it. You, who’d been there in all those small, ordinary moments. The kind of quiet loyalty he didn’t know what to do with.

So, Ben had this way of making every little kindness of yours seem like it was nothing. A late-night meal you made him? "That all you got?" He would spit it right out. Patience with his anger? He'd scoff and say, "What, you really think you can fix me?"

And when you'd touch him, hand on his shoulder or your fingers tracing a line across his jaw, he'd look away, just enough so you'd see the faintest flicker of something. But then it would be gone, and he'd shut down again, like all the times before.

But you loved him anyway.

For some messed-up reason, you could see through it. Even when he pushed you away, you stayed. Patient, offering a love he didn't deserve—and he knew it himself.

Maybe it was your patience that made him resent you, that gentleness in your eyes when he spat venom at you. He had gotten used to people leaving the second they saw what a monster he could be, the second he showed them the violence he kept just under the surface. But you stayed, and he both loved and hated you for it, because you made him feel things he'd tried so hard to bury. And somewhere deep down, that terrified him.

Because Ben did love you. That was the worst part. He'd feel it sneak up on him in the quiet moments, when you were sleeping beside him, or laughing at something stupid he said or something he'd mumbled. He felt it every time he reached for you. He loved you in a way that made him feel vulnerable and open, like he had nothing left to hide.

Then came the night that changed everything. A night you'd never forget. When he came back stumbling in, blood on his knuckles and bruises across his jaw—he had gotten back from a fight. You took one look at him and knew he was aiming for another fight with you, eager to burn the only good thing he had left just to prove that he could.

He sneered at you, and you just waited, waited for him to burn out. And he did.

The sharpness and anger in his eyes burned till it was nothing but a wavering sight of lost and hurt, his body slumping against the wall and he couldn't bother to look into your eyes again. He might have broken down.

But then he did what he did best. Push people away.

"You think you love me? Fuckin' waste of time. I don't love, sweetheart. And it's pathetic that you keep hangin' on like this, thinking you're special." he spat, eyes filled with resentment when his eyes met yours again.

You held his gaze and didn't flinch. "I know you don't mean that."

That was when he snapped. His voice went cold, the kind of anger that ran deep. "Maybe you're just too stupid to get it. I don't want you here. Don't need you lookin' at me like I'm some fuckin' wounded dog." His words were harsh, but he knew they were bullshit, just another excuse he used to push you away.

And it worked. It worked.

Ben saw the way tears started to well up in your eyes as you stared at him, and that was what finally made him feel something close to regret. But he couldn't go back now. Couldn't unsay it. It would have been too painful to admit the truth, to admit that he was terrified.

So you left. Quietly, without another word, because there was nothing left to say. You just gathered your things, gave him one last look, and walked out, leaving him alone in that dimly lit apartment.

He'd won, hadn't he?

He had pushed you away. He got what he wanted. No more vulnerability, no more of that insufferable feeling of being known and loved despite everything he hated about himself.

He told himself he'd feel fine. After all, he'd done this before. He'd been alone, and he'd always been better for it. But lying in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he realized the silence around him had changed. It wasn't a silence he was used to—it was hollow, cold in a way he couldn't ignore.

Days passed, and Ben tried to drown it out, with alcohol, with meaningless fights he'd pick, with anything that might numb the ache, but they all just made it worse.

He'd find himself in the bathroom, throwing up from one too many drinks, and he almost missed the feeling of your hand on his back, rubbing soothingly as he heaved, your touch steady and comforting, even though he reeked of liquor and shame. When he was done, you'd wipe his face with a cold washcloth, taking care of him like he wasn't just some disaster you walked into.

He'd lie on the couch, afterward, barely conscious, the side of his head pressed against your lap as you stroked his hair. Even through that kind of haze, he'd feel your hand smoothing over his forehead, your thumb brushing against his temple.

Now he was throwing up by himself, sick and alone, and how he wished you were here with him right now. He'd lift his head up and catch himself looking over his shoulder, as if expecting you to be there for him, a hand rubbing his back through it all, like before. But you weren't.

He hated it. Hated how much he wanted that same kind of comfort again, that sense of security he let himself get used to. The same kind he didn't know he craved until you were gone. But most of all, he hated himself more for needing it.

He had pushed you away, and he really didn't have anyone to blame but himself, didn't he?

So he sat there, taking in the silence, the first time he's felt so... alone. He let himself feel it, the way you weren't there with him anymore. All the hurt and vulnerability, the pain he’d spent his life trying to shove down. He was alone, and he'd done it to himself. Because loving you had terrified him more than anything, and instead of facing that fear, he destroyed the one good thing he's ever had.

In the end, he did the one thing he was best at—and that was pushing you away.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canon:

A Friendship Forever

Yandere Platonic Unicorn x GN Reader

This is a self indulgent piece for all the people who always wanted a unicorn as a friend when they were young (albeit a crazy one).

Tw: Kidnapping, being held hostage (affectionately), platonic yandere, and yandere themes

Your hands ran a brush through Andromeda’s white main. The unicorn leaned into your touch with a whinny.

“Andromeda, I cannot stay here.” You softly whispered to your longtime friend. The unicorn turned her head to look at you, her soft voice rung in your brain. It still unnerved you that she’d always communicate with you telepathically despite how many years she’d done this…

“But it’s safe here. You said you didn’t want to get married or grow old, so I brought you here.” Andromeda’s white ears flapped against her head, another whinny left her lips.

“I said that when I was five, Andromeda.” You sighed softly. “I’m in my twenties now-“

“Humans are a fleeting existence! You’d whither away if I didn’t step in!” Andromeda nodded her head. “You’re my best friend! I cannot bear to lose my best friend!”

Andromeda rose to her feet before she shook her head, her dark eyes held a playful glint in them. “Come on! We can frolic together in the enchanted forest just like we always have!”

“We can play forever! This is much better than being with humans. Humans are bad! But not you… you’re the best!”

Andromeda nodded her head at you, a snort escaped her muzzle when you didn’t get up right away. “I know you’re not tired! You’ve slept for hours! Come on!”

You sighed when Andromeda stomped her hooves at you to encourage you to get up. The unicorn happily whinnied when you obediently followed her. “There we go! Want to race to the waterfall?”

“Andromeda, you know you’ll win.” You sighed when the unicorn stamped her hooves against the forest floor.

“Not true! I let you win sometimes!” The unicorn began to circle you as she shook her mane about in a playful manner. This unicorn was still quite childish despite the many years you’ve known her. “It’s been a fifty-fifty!”

Andromeda bumped her head against your back. “Well, if you don’t want to do that, we can make flower crowns in the field!” The thought seemed to excited the unicorn who began to bounce up and down. “You can make your flower crowns and I can eat some flowers! That’s a fantastic deal, wouldn’t you say?”

You gave the unicorn a sad smile. This mythical creature could never understand you properly. You knew her will came from a good place, you’d never starve her or worry about rent anymore… but you missed your friends. Your human friends. And time seemed to pass by so differently in this enchanted forest. The weather was always perfect… And that’s when a terrifying thought entered your mind. How long have you been here exactly?

“How long have I been here with you now, Andromeda?” You softly asked the unicorn, hopeful for reassurance that it’s only been a few weeks… that you still had a life to go back to if you tried to escape.

Andromeda thought for a moment before she stomped her hoof on the ground. “It’s been about five months here, but that’s fifty years in your world!”

Andromeda circled you. “I upset the balance of the forest for my very best friend! But the spirits are not upset with me since I’ve been alone for so long! Yes, yes! We will be together until the end of time! Just you and me… friends forever.”

You felt a few tears run down your cheeks as your situation finally sunk in. You really were trapped here forever with her…

[moamidzyism]

[12:15am] (c.sb)

☆。.:*·ﾟwc 1566 angst + smut ౨ৎ minors DNI ୨୧ soobin x unnamed fem!oc, husband!soobin x fem!reader, infidelity, toxic relationship, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]

playlist — alligator tears, beyoncé ; pretty little birds, sza ; i wish i hated you, ariana grande ; riiverdance, beyoncé ; pretty, kennie ; easy to love me, hope tala ; the other woman, lana del rey

part one

soobin knows the way to her place by heart. it is a small, unassuming house just outside of town, a stark contrast to the home he shares with you. he pulls into the driveway like he owns the place. it is a routine now – driving here, parking in the same spot, and heading straight for the flowerpot where she leaves the spare key for him.

the familiarity is comforting, almost too easy. it is as if this is the place he is truly meant to be.

he pushes open the door, half-expecting her to be waiting for him in the dimly lit hallway. but the house is silent. he takes a moment to take in the space, a house so devoid of personality it almost feels intentional, like it is staged. there are no family photos adorning the walls, no scatter of throw pillows on the couch, no scented candles or wallflowers to perfume the air. but it doesn’t bother him. in fact, there is something about the simplicity that makes him feel at home in a way he hasn’t in a long time.

as he moves towards the bedroom, he can feel the weight of the day finally starting to lift. the tension, the lies – it all seems to fade as he approaches the only place where things don’t feel so complicated. he finds her there, lying on the bed in one of his old t-shirts, her face dotted with pimple patches. it is strangely endearing.

“you’re late,” she remarks, her voice flat, as she catches sight of him standing in the doorway.

“i told you i was coming,” he replies.

“yeah, and you’re ten minutes late,” she shoots back, her eyes narrowing slightly. “and i’m tired now.”

“you know i had to make sure she was okay first,” he says. the mention of you hangs in the air like a lead weight. “but i’m here now.”

she rolls her eyes. “come on, baby, let me make it up to you,” soobin murmurs, inching closer to the bed, desperate to close the distance between them, both physically and emotionally.

when he reaches her, he pulls her into a kiss (mostly to placate her, but also to silence his thoughts). she smiles into the kiss, a small, satisfied curve of her lips that tells him she’d let it slide this time.

for now, he is hers, and that is all she needs.

he kisses her again, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between them. his hands move instinctively, caressing her back as he deepens the kiss, trying to lose himself in her warmth, in the simplicity of this moment.

his lips begin their slow descent from her mouth, tracing a path down her neck, lingering on the sensitive skin there as he relishes in her soft sighs. it’s intoxicating the power he holds over her. he continues, his kisses trail lower, over the curve of her breast, where the old t-shirt is pushed aside, revealing more of her skin to him. he savors the ways she arches slightly towards him. he lets his hands roam her sides, feeling the rise and fall of her breath.

then, as he reaches the lacy band of her underwear, he pauses for a moment to take the sight of her beneath him – vulnerable, wanting, and his. there’s a part of him that wishes he could stay in this moment forever, where nothing exists but her, but he knows, just like all the moments they share, it’s fleeting.

he kisses the lace softly before he starts to peel the fabric away, ready to lose himself in her completely.

“you’re so unreal,” he whispers as he spreads her legs apart, positioning himself between them.

his lips find her clit, and the moment his mouth makes contact, she lets out an ear-splitting moan, her body arching into him. her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging at the roots with abandon. she melts under the pleasure he gives her, reacting instinctively to each flick of his tongue against her sensitive, swollen bud.

with each movement, he pushes her closer to the edge. when he moans against her, the vibrations send shockwaves through her body. her vision blurs, and for about a minute, she is lost in the blinding ecstasy of her orgasm. she jerks beneath him, her back arching as she releases over his face, and he greedily laps up every last drop, his mouth moving down as he prolongs her pleasure.

even after his mouth and fingers leave her, the aftershocks of her climax linger.

he aligns himself with her entrance, and with a slow, deliberate push, he presses his cock into her. the stretch burns at first, but soon the pain fades, replaced by a pleasure so intense it nearly overwhelms her.

she moans as he pulls out, only thrust back in, harder and sharper. he gives her a moment to adjust, his thrusts faster, deeper. her gasps and moans fill the room, but they’re incoherent, her mind too far gone to form words.

“‘m yours… all yours, baby,” soobin whispers breathlessly, his voice rough. her eyes roll back in response as she grinds against him, completely consumed by the feeling of him inside her. a guttural groan escapes him as he picks up the pace, fucking her harder, deeper, until she’s on the brink again.

“s-so close,” she manages to gasp out, her body trembling with the force of her impending release.

his thrusts grow erratic, his breathing harsh and labored. she can tell he’s just as close as she is. “cum for me, baby. please, just cum all over my cock,” he pleads desperately.

she cries out as her body seizes, her orgasm ripping through her with brutal intensity. her pussy tightens around him, trapping him in the pulsing heat of her orgasm. he’s overcome, lost in the sensation of her gripping him so tightly, and the only thing he can do is press his hips flush against hers, filling her with everything he has.

as he pulls away from her, the warmth of his body leaving hers, she instinctively curls into him. the rawness of the moment slowly begins to settle into a familiar ache in her chest. her heartbeat steadies, her breathing slows, but her mind races. she turns her gaze upward, her eyes soft and pleading as she whispers, “can you please stay?”

he meets her eyes, offering a tender smile as he strokes her hair. “i am staying,” he reassures her. but she knows the truth. she feels it in the way his hand hesitates before touching her again, in the way his gaze flickers away from hers. he means he’s staying for now, for the night. she forces a smile. “good,” she murmurs, snuggling closer to him, trying to absorb this moment. to make it last.

he holds her tightly, his lips brushing against her forehead in a series of soft kisses that felt more like an apology. she knows the truth she’s been trying to ignore. soobin loves her, yes, but not enough. never enough to actually leave you. the thought cuts through her like a knife, sharp and cold.

despite the doubt gnawing at her, exhaustion eventually pulls her to sleep, his body still wrapped around hers. she dreams of a future that she knows will never come to pass.

the next morning, she wakes to an empty bed and the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. for a moment, she allows herself to hope that maybe today will be different. but when he emerges, dressed in the same clothes he wore last night, her heart sinks.

“you’re leaving?” she asks. her voice is small as she sits up in bed. her fingers clutch the comforter as if it could keep him there.

“i have to go home,” he replies, the words heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid. to my wife. but he doesn’t say it; he doesn’t need to. she knows. he walks towards the bed, leaning down to kiss her. she feels the finality of it in the press of his lips.

she catches his arm as he pulls aways, desperation creeping into her voice. “i was hoping we’d get breakfast or something. have a slow morning?”

soobin sighs. “i know, but i have to get home. we’re having guests next week, so we have to go shopping this weekend.”

her heart clenches at his words. that doesn’t sound like something you do with someone you’re planning to leave. in fact, it sounds like the life of a man who is firmly committed with no intention of changing his situation.

“don’t frown,” he says, his thumb brushing over her furrowed brow. he leans down to kiss her again, this time a quick peck, as if to soften the blow. “i’ll make it up to you.”

she watches him with fear and frustration bubbling up inside her. “at least stay for breakfast,” she pleads, reaching for him one last time.

“i–i have to go.” his eyes dart away from hers as he steps back.

as he walks out the door, leaving her alone in the cold, empty house, she feels the familiar sting of tears welling up in her eyes. you get the dates, and the wedding ring, and the family reunions. you get him. and all she gets is the hollow echo of his absence.

fill out this form to join my taglist! author's note :: this is the part two!! I really hope you enjoyed this <33 I know it's not the satisfying she leaves him ending but I thought it shed light to the dynamics in these relationships. if you have any questions, comments, etc , please please please feel free to ask me !!