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#i am traveling over the next couple of weeks
b14augrana · 2 days
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‘Lacy’
Fridolina is perfect in your eyes. Too perfect, actually, and it drives you crazy.
Fridolina Rolfö x reader
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Warnings: jealousy and reader lowkey has issues
A/N: i’m the biggest frido fan on this planet so this sucked to write ily frido 🙁. i wrote this at 12:30 am so it’s not very good + not proofread and i’m very sorry in advance
You grew up loving Spanish football.
The technicality of it was your favourite thing and later on, you tried to incorporate it into your own play style. It set you apart from your teammates and made you stand out… until she came along.
The Swedish talent, incredible defender, the attacking fullback of everyone’s dreams. Fridolina Rolfö. You had played against her a handful of times and she was nothing short of talented; she was probably the first fullback you had seen that dribbled so high up the wing with so much confidence and actually managed to make something out of it.
Your usual position was in the midfield, but when your starting right back got injured, you found yourself shoved into a completely new position. You loved carrying the ball up the field and creating plays or dictating the game, but from the back, you could hardly do that. Due to the lack of real opportunities to let yourself shine, Fridolina got all the attention. The more goals she scored, the more assists she got, the more headlines she made in German sporting media.
The worst part? She was genuinely nice, so you had no proper reason to hate her besides being extremely jealous. She was kind and always complimented you during training and encouraged you during every match.
Your transfer to Barcelona couldn’t have happened at a more convenient time. Just as you were nearing your breaking point with her perfectness, your contract expired and you signed with the Spanish club. You had no intention of renewing with Wolfsburg, not while she was there. You wanted that fresh start, you wanted to thrive in a completely new place and finally learn the Spanish way of football first-hand.
The first season was amazing. You were breaking personal records and putting up performances for your new club, solidifying yourself as a starting player. You made friends and learned many things both on and off the pitch, and on top of that, you won your first couple trophies outside of Germany. You were at the peak of your happiness.
Of course it had to be ruined by a certain Swede arriving at the club only a season later. “(Y/N), it’s such a coincidence! I loved playing with you, so I could never turn down the contract they offered me,” she happily said to you on her first day. You smiled back at her despite wanting to bash your head against a wall, because you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean.
She stuck with you during her first couple weeks at the club until she got familiar with everyone else; to you, those were the worst weeks of your life as you were forced to confront the reality that she was perfect as ever and you were sickeningly envious of her.
Over the course of the next season, it became harder to understand how she had almost no room for imperfection. Her only flaw was something stupid like not being able to bake which was something you couldn’t do either, so that didn’t make you feel any better.
Everyone in your team loved her. She was a good player, an excellent one even. She was soft spoken and respectful, and a team player who fit right in almost immediately.
She loved cafés and coffee, like Ingrid. She enjoyed kayaking and swimming, like Lucy and Ona. She loved dogs, like Alexia. She liked to travel, like Aitana.
She was everything you wished you could be, and it made you curse her name in the dark emptiness of your bedroom after hours. It made you watch her for a second longer during training, even while you’re on the other side of the pitch. It made you smile at her in the changing room and ask her how she is.
She didn’t even have to try to be adored, whereas it felt like you had been trying to catch anyone’s eye since the beginning of time. She breathed and the media was all over her.
As the season progressed, the envious feeling became a regular thing when you were around Fridolina, so you had gotten used to it. You felt bad for feeling such a way but your heart overpowered your brain and the feelings persisted.
You were having the best season of your career so far, between qualifying for a Champions League semifinal and becoming a league champion once again on top of winning the Copa de La Reina and Supercopa.
During the second leg of the semifinal against Chelsea, you were taken out inside the box, granting your team a penalty. You stepped up to take it with the chance to put you and your team ahead, but before you could even walk up to the spot, blonde hair swished past you and before you could process anything, the ball hit the back of the net and you saw Fridolina running away to celebrate it. You couldn’t even afford to be angry on the surface, because then everyone would know something was wrong and you’d have to come clean and hurt Fridolina and say something that would surely upset her so.. you celebrated with your team. Like anyone in your position would.
That was your breaking point though — her being under the spotlight once again, proving that she’s so magnificent and better than you and perfect.
Perfect, once again.
The worst part was, even as you sat in the changing rooms on your own, fighting back tears, you knew you couldn’t entirely loathe her out of any amount of jealousy. You couldn’t loathe her more than you loathed your own mind, which betrayed you by worshipping her like some sort of idol.
The rude awakening that you worshipped her settled in as you tried to ignore the fact she was the type of person you prayed to be like, to a god you barely believed in.
Fucking perfect angel Fridolina. Damn you.
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peonypyxels · 11 months
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if u see me hyperfixating on the harvest moon release next week no u didn’t 👀
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slippery-minghus · 1 year
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okay also... not that it's a bad thing about him as a person at all... but if i'm gonna be in a relationship with someone... fuck if i wanna be able to have an intelligent conversation with them. even if there's only a few topics we line up on in that manner. just please, anything other than usually-one-sided conversations about fandom.... 😮‍💨
#i read a thing a week or so ago about this couple who just sit and talk for hours every day#and while i don't have fucking *that* level of social energy.... some of that would be nice#i'm getting to the stage where i have to remind myself of all the reasons i want *not this*#(trying the reframe from my shrink. it's not what i Don't Want- but what i Do Want Instead)#and i feel so mean and selfish for pointing out all the ways this relationship falls short#because who the hell am *i*?? what right do i have???#we're *perfect* for each other if only we both change (or i abusively make him change) in all these ways until we're totally different ppl!#but if i don't acknowledge where things are not matching up to my wants#then it'll be all too easy to gloss over them and beloeve myself that i'm an evil monster depriving an innocent boy of his rightful soulmate#but the point of a soulmate is complementing each other.... not one person being the person that completes and fixes the other#soulmates are two complete and whole people whose paths are best traveled in parallel#not two incomplete people (or one complete and the other incomplete) who can only exist by breathing for each other#and i want the person who runs parallel to me#i want someone who can not only stand on their own two feet without me but THRIVE without me#and aw hell if that isn't a very interesting thing to want considering my historical issues with feeling inadequate#but i think both those growths go hand in hand - confidence in worth and wants#(like damn- honestly surprising myself with that one!)#i'm going to have the conversation with him either this tuesday or next...#part of me wants to rip the bandaid off but the other wants to both grant him one more Date Night#and also grant myself the proof i'm not acting impulsively and without thought—that i'm not just lashing out bc i Feel Lonely or whatever#though now that i'm thinking about it i don't know that i'll be able to keep it together knowing what i plan to do#i'm gonna need my fucking anxiety meds a lot this week and next 🙃 worth it tho... 😮‍💨#personal
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weird-and-unwell · 4 months
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“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.
I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.
At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.
I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.
I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.
I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.
I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.
Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.
I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.
"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.
Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.
But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.
I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.
Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.
And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.
But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.
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diddybok · 5 months
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asking best friend!stray kids what you are pt.2
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all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)
➩pairing: ot8 x gn!reader
➩genre(s): angst, some fluff
➩warnings: strong language, mentions of sex, some of the boys are still mean, some unhappy endings
➩wc: 9.4k (9433)
➩author’s note: i am so serious if anybody talks to you in a way to undermine, condescend or just simply belittle you and make you feel stupid, pls pls pls cut that person out of your life. even if they’re doing it as a ‘joke’. it never ends well. ily all and you deserve the best of the best, always <3
➩parts: part one
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chris | 1.2k (1201) words
After the fourth ring, you swipe the little phone symbol across your screen and the time starts. You watch it go from one second, to the next, and the next, before a deep elongated sigh pulls you out of your trance. 
You put him on speaker, afraid of the way you’d react if you were to hear him so close to you in your ear. You can’t handle that right now. 
“Y/n?” His slightly distorted voice says. You don’t reply, placing the phone down in front of you as you sit and fiddle with the rings on your fingers. 
“Come on sweetheart, say something please. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Chris asks softly. Akin to a parent who would try and get their child to confess to stealing cookies out of the cookie jar. 
You run your hands down your face. You’re annoyed with him, most definitely. But you can’t deny the butterflies that start to flutter in your stomach when he addresses you like that. 
It’s not fair. 
The line is painfully silent for another two minutes. Chris patiently, or rather stubbornly, waiting for you to speak. 
“This…this is harder than I thought it’d be.” You say, your voice croaking slightly as this is the first time you have spoken in a while. 
“Okay. Try not to think too much about it. Just speak your truth, unload it all.” Chris encourages. 
You take a deep breath and run your hands up and down your thighs to stop them from clamming up. 
“You hurt my feelings. You are continuing to hurt my feelings. I feel as if I’m the only one who is missing out on an inside joke that everybody seems to know but me.” You halt, waiting to see if he would have a rebuttal. Except he doesn’t and his silence spurs you on to continue. 
“I thought we were practically dating. I thought that night would be the night that you would ask to be together as a couple. You know, exclusive?” You chuckle bitterly. “So imagine my surprise when you decide to ignore me for a week. Do you know how shitty that felt?” You ask him. 
You can just about hear his breaths. They’re soft and collected. Yet the more you wait for his response that he doesn’t seem to be giving, you are becoming the opposite of that. 
“I asked you a question.” You say curtly. 
“I can see how that would make you feel shitty, yes. For that I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I felt like I fucked everything up for us.” You think he sounded genuine enough when he said that, so you elect yourself to be quiet so he can continue. 
“I should’ve stopped it. Doing it knowing I wasn’t ready for it to happen—like that anyway—was not fair on you. I wouldn’t say that it has complicated things per say, but it has led me to think about a few things.” Chris finishes. 
You sit there, the flaps of the butterfly wings now causing the bile to travel upwards and out. You reach over and grab your water bottle from your bedside table and chug as much as you can. 
“Think about things like what?” You will yourself to say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand at the water that managed to escape and drip down your chin. 
He doesn’t reply which does not settle your nerves. Especially not after that last sentence he said. Silence is not your friend at this moment. 
“Chris—”
“I think that we should be together.” He practically vomits out. 
Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up to the top of your skull. 
“What!”
“Y/n?”
You both speak at the same time. 
“Oh sorry you go ahead.”
“Sorry, you first.”
You hear a small chuckle over the line as you speak over each other again. He stays silent this time, letting you talk. 
“Are you serious? Like you really mean that? You aren’t playing me for a fool right?” You ask quickly. 
“Yes. Yes. No,” You release a silent scream. “I really do want us. I have always wanted us, but this—you—made me realise that we should’ve made it official a while ago. There were only so many more excuses I could pull out of the bag to mask me taking you out on dates as just ‘best friends hanging out doing questionable things’.” 
Of course, you knew this as you are smart. The excuse he gave when he took you to a rooftop restaurant with candlelights everywhere was certainly not ‘for practice when I get a partner’. Him having your favourite meal prepared and the playlist the two of you made playing in the background? Dead giveaway. 
“Plus it is also totally unrealistic that you as my best friend would splash that much cash on me unless it was because you lost a bet. So I had a feeling I knew something was up. Which I guess is why I got a bit too excited and jumped to the conclusion that we were already a couple.” You say scratching the back of your neck. 
“Not true! I would always buy you things.” Chris corrects. 
“Yeah but you’d always complain whilst doing so. So when you stopped complaining, something had clearly shifted.” You clarify. 
You can envision the eye roll he does paired with the sigh he releases making you laugh. 
There’s another silence that fills the space, albeit this time it is comfortable. Until he sneezes down the line and you catch yourself smiling warmly as you bless him. 
“What happens now? Do we get a level up on our relationship or something? Or do I magically spawn in your arms and you cuddle me until I fall asleep? I’m thinking that sounds like the correct thing to happen next.” He teases. 
“Of course that’s what you think.” 
“Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just work here.” He says in a seductive drawl. 
“You’re still very much in the dog house. Honestly, I feel it’s only fair for me to leave you waiting a week to even see me.” You speak without a hint of sarcasm. 
It goes quiet over the phone again. You look down at your rings, twisting them around your finger gently. 
“Okay…I guess that’s fair.” He finally responds. 
You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding, nodding to yourself in agreement. 
“You’re one hundred percent certain you want this? Want to be together past just best friends?” You clarify. 
“What do you not trust me already? Y/n I want to be with you. I have wanted to be with you. Our communication just wasn’t great. But we will work on it together. Okay?” Chris speaks gently down the phone. 
“Okay.” You say softly. 
Though it will take a day or two for you to get over the fact he didn’t message you for a week, you feel as though a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 
Whatever the next step of your relationship with Chris is, you’re just relieved that you get to do it together with no more misunderstandings. 
minho | 1.0k (1032) words
You and Minho decided that it would be best for you to discuss your relationship over lunch. He even offered to pay which you certainly were not going to turn down. 
You have been hyping yourself up in front of the mirror for about twenty minutes since Minho said he was en route. If Minho texting you earlier was any indication of how this conversation will go, then you are sure you aren’t silly for practising breathing techniques and how to not make a fool of yourself on a whole. 
You’re getting your jacket when you hear his knock at the door. You know it’s him because he only ever knocks in a pattern. 
Opening the door, you’re glad to see him greet you with a smile on your face. Though that’s how it has always been in your relationship. Even when you fight, you always know to resolve the issue with a smile and to never yell at each other. 
Even though you could tell he was anxious, he was masking it well. Throughout the drive, playing your favourite songs. Even now in the café ordering you your favourite meal when he caught you scanning the menu acting like you didn’t know what you wanted already. 
Safe to say, the both of you calm each other down, which makes this conversation much easier to have. 
“So, let's address the elephant in the room.” You start, taking a sip of your milkshake. 
“I first want to say that whatever we choose to do from this point on, you are not allowed to leave me. Well, you can’t anyways because I am always going to be in your life.” He says with an unwavering smile on his face. 
You hold back your smile and nod, letting him carry on. 
“No I do mean it. I just think that we’d be better off just being…us. You know what I mean?” He says using his hands to emphasise.  
“Mmm, let’s dig a little deeper. I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. Obviously what we shared was nice and I don’t think that we should regret it, right?” You say with a tilt of your head. 
“I agree. I had a think about it whilst I drove to your house to pick you up and I don’t think it was fair of me to question what we did. In terms of making you think that I felt that it wasn’t right of us to do.” Minho explains. He looks around before leaning in slightly. “Especially since that was the best sex I have had in months.” He throws a wink your way and you have to stop yourself from taking a bow. 
Him saying that feels as though numerous weights have been lifted off of your shoulders. You were most anxious about whether he either hated it or thought it was a mistake. So you’re now glad to hear that neither of it was the case. 
The waiter comes over with your food and you thank them. You’re about to pick up your fork and take a bite of food to fuel your courage but you’re abruptly tutted at. 
“Just because we are in the midst of an important conversation does not mean we skip tradition.” Minho says, raising his eyebrow at you. 
You place the fork down and put up a peace sign as you pose. He takes out his camera and snaps a photo of you with both his and your meal in the frame. He then puts his middle finger up and poses with an over exaggerated bored expression. You chuckle to yourself before taking the photo. 
“You said that we moved too fast assuming that we were moving in the first place. Do you still think that now?” You say before taking a bite of your meal. 
He finishes his mouthful as he furrows his eyebrows and thinks about your question. 
“Well I mean, I’d be an idiot to say that I didn’t think that it wouldn’t be going anywhere. But for us right now, I don’t think we should be moving at all.” He speaks. 
The food you are swallowing seems to get a little stuck as you start to quietly choke. All the while Minho grows increasingly embarrassed at your lack of ability to stay alive. 
“Okay calm, people are starting to look over.” He says to you, pouring you a glass of water from the jug on the table. 
You take a few gulps and tap your chest.
“Damn. You shouldn’t say things like that when I’m mid chew.” You scold. 
“My apologies, from now on I shall wait until the food has made its descent to the pit of acid in your stomach.” He lightly chuckles. 
“So what I’m hearing is that all things considered romantically, we should stop. So we just continue on as friends?” You clarify. 
He nods. 
“Hit the nail on the head.”
“Right…I mean I guess that works. After all, we were friends before we got curious so I’m pretty sure we can just laugh about it and carry on.” You smile albeit quite painfully. 
“Yes of course! We were just curious…” Minho adds, a painful smile also etched onto his features. 
Can you just laugh about it and carry on? Even when it felt so natural? So…right?
There’s a silence pregnant with awkwardness as you and Minho avoid each other’s gazes and continue to eat. 
Akin to a supporting artist having a cue to interact with the leads of a movie, the waiter comes over to ask if everything was alright with the food. 
You both bombard him with praise and he seems a little taken aback and hurries away to the next table. 
You don’t lie to Minho often, much like he doesn’t lie to you. However, in this café it seems the two of you are egregious liars. Which explains the way you both see right through each other. 
You know that it’s only a matter of time until something happens again because unfortunately you have crossed the line. Let’s just hope you can go at least a month before you’re entangled in each other's arms again. 
changbin | 1.1k (1120) words
One, two, three knocks on your door. You approach it slowly, looking through the peephole to see Changbin standing in his big puffer jacket and gloves. 
You consider letting him stay in the cold a little longer, but the goodness in your heart wills your hand to open the door. 
“Come in quickly, it’s cold.” You order. 
He doesn’t dally with his movements, coming inside quickly as you shut the door behind him. It’s quiet as he takes off his shoes and coat, giving you a mildly awkward smile that was still dulcet. 
“I was just making breakfast, would you like some?” You offer, walking into the kitchen. 
“Oh, yes please that’d be nice thank you.” He says, following after you. 
The atmosphere feels a little strange and you aren’t used to it. Changbin hasn’t yelled at all since stepping foot inside and usually you would’ve threatened the duct tape on his mouth by now. 
You engage in some aimless chit chat with him whilst you cook. You figured you would ease into this conversation rather than just immediately diving head first. 
“I like what you’ve done with the place.” Changbin admires as he looks around your kitchen. 
You turn to him, bewildered. 
“I haven’t changed my kitchen since I moved in here, bin.” You establish. 
“Really? Oh. I thought there was something different about this place in the week and a bit that I have been gone.” He says with genuinity. 
“Why would I have changed my kitchen around in the week that you’ve been gone?” You ask. 
He shrugs, stealing a blueberry from the bowl when your back is turned from him. 
“I don’t know. Some people dye or cut their hair when they’re upset. I figured since you like your hair too much, you would’ve changed the next best thing.” He solidifies, feeling much too content with the way his brian works. 
You on the other hand aren’t sure whether you’re being tested or if this is truly how he is choosing to behave.
You plate up the food and as you’re about to slide his plate over to him, you pull it back. 
“For every question answered, you get a mouthful of food.” At this, Changbin gawks. 
“This seems illegal in some form or another.” He sulks. 
You open up your phone to your conversation with him. 
“So it says here that you didn’t want to mess up our friendship, but emotions were running high and we weren’t thinking about the consequences. What consequences would that be?” You state. 
He looks at you quizzically. 
“Why do I feel like I’m in court right now? You’re reading the text messages out like evidence and I’m scared.” He says laughing awkwardly. 
“You answer the question. You get to eat.” You redirect. He clears his throat before he begins. 
“Well the consequences would be, erm, how us sleeping together will create ripples in our friendship whether we like it or not. I mean I’m not saying I regret it fully…but maybe a tiny bit?” He says fiddling with his hands. 
He opens his mouth wide as he awaits your end of the deal. You pick up the fork and scoop up some food before you feed it to him. 
For people who aren’t a couple, you sure do act like it. 
“Why is that?” You press further. 
“Because I didn’t want something like this to happen. By that I mean, if we were going to go all the way, then we should have established what we were prior. Even though our friends may think we are a couple, it wasn’t exclusively spoken about between us.” A beat. “But now I think that by letting ourselves get carried away, we missed the opportunity to settle things out with both of us clear on where we stand in our relationship.” He finishes. 
You decide to give him two mouthfuls for that answer to which he hums happily in response. 
You cannot doubt that what he said makes sense. You should have spoken about what you guys were before engaging in something as intimate as sleeping with each other. 
Yet for two people who have already gone to second base countless times before and couldn’t control the libido this time, you also understand where things got messy. 
“I think I get where you’re coming from now.” You say, eating your own mouthful. 
Changbin nods in acknowledgment before stealing a handful of blueberries. 
“But you also said that you still wanna be my best friend. Is that still true? Do you think we can get past this?” You ask apprehensively. 
Changbin’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief. 
“Of course! To both of your questions. Look at us, we’ve lasted this long. Yeah so I’ve been inside you, that’s fine! At least we had a good time, right? We can say that we’ve done it and gotten it out of our system.” He exclaims. 
You pull a face at the last sentence and he is immediately scrambling to reword what he means. 
“No, I don't see it as a throwaway act! I meant that because we had been stopping at second base because we were too scared to take it all the way, we finally reached the goal.” He stammers. 
You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. 
“No I don’t mean that sleeping with you was the goal, if anything it was off the pitch.” He tries to explain. 
A single tilt of your head was all that was needed in order for him to slam his head into his hands and mutter a ‘I give up’. 
You shake your head and slide the plate over to him as you move across the island to sit on the stall next to him. You place an arm around his shoulder as he sighs. 
“I don’t want to lose you as my best friend too, bin. Let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah? What happened, happened. Now we both know where we stand about our friendship, it’s okay.”
He lifts his head from his palms and looks over you with his big black eyes. 
“You mean that? Like actually? We’re good?” He asks. You laugh slightly. 
“Yes bin, we’re good.” You reassured him. 
“Oh thank God. Does that mean I can still call you my sweet—”
“One day at a time.” You say sternly. 
The both of you smile as you finish the rest of your breakfast. There’s a twinge of hurt that you feel for you and Changbin not going forward as a couple, but you would rather this than to lose him forever. 
So for now, you’ll cherish what an amazing friendship the two of you have and will continue to have. 
hyunjin | 1.1k (1113) words
“Y/n open the fucking door.” You mimic Hyunjin’s last text message to you aloud as you walk down the stairs. 
You were by no means rushing to get to the door, if anything, you think that standing right by it for a good two minutes or so to really irritate him would make you feel much better than you currently do. 
Hyunjin continuously banging on the door pulls you out of your stubborn demeanour. If not for your neighbours, you’d have let him continue to bang against the door until his knuckles bruised. 
Yet it seems your night couldn’t get any worse considering you’ve just taken a fist to the face. Perhaps that was your fault for catching him off guard when he was vigorously knocking as he appeared to have ‘knocked’ your face instead of the door. 
“Oh fuck! Y/n!” Hyunjin yells as he cradles your face in his hands. You appreciate the gesture, you do, he was still your best friend after all. But if this wasn’t the cherry on top of the cake then you don’t know what is. 
“Yep, good to see you too hyune.” You groan. 
You scrunch your face as your hand moves to soothe your forehead. Shrugging out of his hold, you step inside of your home, trusting that he would follow suit and shut the door behind him. 
“Y/n darling I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to knock against…your forehead.” He speaks with utmost genuinity as he shadows behind you. 
You don’t say anything as you just grab yourself some frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel before moving to your living room to make yourself comfortable on the sofa as you wait for him to explain everything. 
You’re thankful that he seems to be getting the hints tonight. He takes his place beside you, worry etched onto his beautiful face. 
Damn his prince-like features…
“Explain yourself then, since texting wasn’t working for you.” You spit. He bites his lip nervously and fidgets with his hands before his eyes look from the bag of peas until falling onto your own. 
“When…when I said I didn’t want you as my best friend, I meant because we can’t just go back to being best friends after that. It would just kill me knowing that you aren’t mine even after the night we shared.”  He starts. 
You sit still and listen, switching hands since the frozen peas were adding to the chill you already had from the conversation that loomed over your head. 
“I don’t want you as my best friend because I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want us.  Together.”
You wince. There’s a small part of you that just doesn’t believe him. You place down the now damp tea towel that holds the slowly melting peas. 
He looks at you, trying to read your reaction, but you were giving nothing away. 
“I just wanna know what was going through your head all those nights we spent together. We may not have had sex, but we did everything else. The cuddles, the kisses—when you familiarise yourself with every inch of my body—it would make sense that I thought we were something more than just best friends.”
He breaks eye contact, his interest now on the rings he adorns on his fingers. You can tell he is trying to think of something to say, so you wait patiently. 
“I understand if you feel like I may have been using you.” He acquiesces in meeting your gaze, but he persists. “It hadn’t really occurred to me that you may have thought of us as more than best friends. Granted, instead of sitting in my uncertainty I should have just asked you. Then that night happened and it hit me. Afterwards, I just knew that I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”
You feel nauseous. You can’t decipher exactly what that was supposed to mean. You look over at the now wet kitchen towel. 
“So you do regret it?” You pressed, your voice soft. 
He holds his hands out and shakes his head as he quickly refutes his words. 
“No of course not! I just meant that I know I should have asked you about us before that happened. I didn’t want it to be the case that you felt that I was not serious about us. ‘Cause having sex with someone is serious and I never wanted you to think I was playing around with your feelings.” He finishes. 
You sit there thinking about what he said. Maybe he was being sincere. Maybe he really does want what you thought the two of you had for the past couple of months. 
“How can I know that you aren’t just saying this? That you feel somewhat obligated to make us a thing because of the fact we slept with each other?” You ask. 
“Because I was too much of a coward to say this earlier.” He speaks without missing a beat. 
He scoots closer to you on the sofa, his hands providing warmth in yours. You don’t mean to dither, but you can’t help but weigh all the options. Hyunjin tilts his head to try and meet your eyes.
“I know you’re thinking about all of the things that could go wrong. About all of the things that could go right. What I could be for you in a day, a week, a month or even a year.” He cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking beneath your eye. “But just be with me in this present moment. Think about what I could be for you now.” He says quietly. 
After some time, you lift your head to meet his gaze, the faintest smile on your lips. 
“Okay.”
Hyunjin’s eyes widened in shock and by the look on his face, you were certain that he thought you were going to reject him. 
“O-okay? You’re sure?” He presses. 
“I’m sure. I can tell you truly meant what you said and I think this would be the better outcome for us. I don’t think I could picture my life without you in it.” You admit. 
“Then I promise you won’t ever have to picture it because I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you, Y/n.” Hyunjin declares. 
You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. You aren’t sure whether your head is throbbing from your injury or the thrill that comes with you and Hyunjin finally being together. 
You just hope that Hyunjin is able to keep his promise that he won’t ever leave you; and that in the end, you made the right decision. 
jisung | 1.1k (1115) words 
You and Jisung sit on your sofa with a cup of tea in both of your hands. It’s been ten minutes since he has arrived and not one word has been said between the two of you. 
That’s how things usually are between you and him though. You don’t particularly need to say anything to know what the other one needs. 
However, you fear that your senses haven’t quite been tingling like they ought to be. Since what you thought was commonly shared between both parties has seemed to only be dumped into one. 
An unrequited love is always bound to end in heartbreak and you’re sure that is how today is going to end. 
“Is it just me or do things feel a little odd?” Jisung says breaking the ice, but in a way which has submerged the two of you in ice cold water. 
“Well I think I would be a little more fraught if things didn’t feel odd.” You add. 
You aren’t exactly happy with him at the moment either. In fact you think it’s in his best interest to explain just what he meant in those text messages. 
“Explain yourself then.” You say not beating around the bush. 
Jisung places his mug down before turning to you. 
“I wanna start by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I worded what I was trying to say in those texts. You aren’t stupid Y/n, I promise. I’m the one that’s being stupid.” He meets your gaze and you give him a single nod. 
“The truth is, I don’t think I’m ready to have a relationship with you.” 
If your feelings are hurt, you will yourself not to show it on your face. Except your face goes pallid as you feel the knife stab directly into your beating heart. 
“Then why make it seem as if we were? Why not shut it down? Better yet, why use me to get your rocks off and make me think that I am going to amount to more than just your best friend?” Your voice croaks, unable to hide the emotion you’re feeling. 
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 
“I can’t give you a definite answer of why I did all of that right now.” He says quietly. 
You can’t help the scoff that falls from your mouth. 
“What the fuck Ji? Why are you even here then? What are we even doing?!” You say starting to grow more upset. 
His eyes widen slightly as he looks at you. He places a hand on your arm and is surprised when you don’t shrug him away. 
“I promise I don’t mean to vex you, I just don’t have an answer because I don’t know. I just know that us having slept together made things seem…real. Like we were actually happening. When in actuality we weren’t and never will be.” 
That was a punch to your gut so hard that your body viscerally reacted to his words and hunched over slightly. You can’t believe what you’re hearing. 
This can’t be the Jisung that you were friends with for so long. No, he would never say something so outright. 
It’s as if he hasn’t even registered what he just said because his face is that of worry as to why you are stunned silent. 
“Jisung,” he winces at the use of his full name. “What did you expect to happen between us? Be honest, don’t say that you don’t know.” You speak gently. 
He thinks for a moment, his hand slipping from your arm as he uses it to fiddle with the zipper of his jacket.
“I just expected for us to play around and not take it to the next step. I just wanted a bit of fun with my best friend. That’s not so bad is it?” He confesses, looking at his feet. 
The knife is pushed deeper. 
You honestly aren’t sure how to react. What to say or even do. So you sit in silence. 
Minutes go by and all you can hear are the hum of the electronics in the room and the breathing of Jisung. He always has been a loud breather. 
A clearing of the throat pulls you out of your trance. 
“Please say something, anything.” He pleads. You slowly turn your face towards him. 
“What would you like me to say Jisung? I have just found out that my best friend—you—has been using me for shits and giggles and being a total ignorant asshole while he does so.” You retort. 
He shakes his head as he frowns at your words. 
“No, no I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t use you just for that. Why would I do that Y/n? You mean more to me than that.” He runs his hand through his brown locks, getting frustrated. “Look, I don’t think we should blow this too much out of proportion. We did something that we shouldn’t have and now we just have to move on.” He says. 
“You don’t mean that.” 
“You’re my best friend Y/n. You know me inside and out. Maybe I haven’t been so transparent with you lately. I just think that I need to figure out some stuff on my own because clearly everything I say is hurting you and I hate the way I hurt you. Fuck, just seeing your face now, knowing I was the cause. I can’t do this. Not anymore.” He says solemnly. 
You blink. The tears trickle down your cheeks as you take into account what he is saying. 
No. This isn’t your Jisung. Just give him some time and he’ll be back. He’ll come back. 
“What are you saying to me Ji?” He places a hand on your cheek before standing up and putting on his shoes. 
You immediately get up and follow him to the front door. 
“Jisung.” You whisper. He opens the door and steps out, stopping and turning to you once more. 
“I’m always gonna be in your corner Y/n. Okay? Always.” Jisung says as he smiles sadly at you and turns away from your door. 
Watching him leave feels like the knife is twisting uncontrollably. You shut your door, not wanting to see him in case you’ll do something stupid like run and stop him from walking out of your life. 
You’re angry, you’re hurt, you’re confused. You’re in a state of shock. Was that a goodbye? Will you ever see him again?
You cover your mouth with your hand as you sob quietly as reality sets in. You had just lost the man you had fallen for, your best friend. 
You aren’t sure if he is ever coming back. 
felix | 1.0k (1077) words
The sun is setting and you find yourself in the familiar skatepark which you and Felix frequently visit to hang out. 
This was a first, you getting here before him. It felt uncanny, especially since the skatepark is an empty void. It’s not like you’re here at the late hours of the night which is what you guys usually do, so where are the people?
As you sit atop the ramp wondering this, Felix climbs up and sits next to you. 
“Hey Y/n.” He greets. No remark about you being here before him for a change. You face him and greet him with a small smile. 
“The sky is pretty this evening. Any particular reason for why you wanted to meet at our spot earlier than usual?” He asks you. 
“I knew the sky would be worth seeing from here today. I also wanted to be able to see your face when you lie.” You deadpan. 
He audibly swallows at this which makes you chuckle and start to swing your feet. 
“I’m kidding. Just wanted to watch the sun go down.” You tease. 
It’s silent, bar the birds chirping and the rustle of the leaves as the wind dances through the trees. 
“So about what happened with us,” Felix starts. “You think that we are more than just best friends?” He asks. You hum in acknowledgement. 
“I thought we were more than best friends for a while. You know, since this whole shebang started. The sex was just what I thought was you being ready to take our relationship further. Though that was foolish of me to think and not double check with you.”
Felix, now turnt to face towards the sunset, is quiet as he takes into consideration what you have just said. 
“It wasn’t foolish.” He says ever so quietly. 
Your legs still their movement as you turn to look at him. His face is being kissed nicely by the sun right now, his freckles practically glowing. 
“Of course it was foolish Felix. Or else we wouldn’t be here now.” You smile as you tip your head back and close your eyes, letting the last of the sun’s warmth seep through your skin. 
“No. It wasn’t foolish because I was ready. Okay that’s not entirely true, I caught feelings months ago but I only became sure about them during that week I was away.” He softly speaks. 
You drop your head and look towards him. His eyes are still glued to the vast blanket of orange and yellow across the horizon. 
“But that’s not what you said in those text messages. You said that you think that boundary shouldn’t have been crossed in the first place. Yet now you’re saying this? Forgive me Felix, but I’m finding it hard to believe what’s coming out of your mouth.” You sigh.  
He finally turns and looks at you, a small scowl on his face. 
“I know what I said in the texts Y/n. I don’t go back on my word. I do think a boundary was crossed and as best friends it shouldn’t have been.” A beat. “Though that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel something towards you. That’s why I’m so confused.” He turns his head back towards the sky, the deep shade of blue starting to make itself evident. 
“Like I said, I didn’t expect to catch feelings for you and then have sex with you.” He finishes. 
You lay down, watching the dark grey clouds move. 
“Do you remember much of that night?” You ask. 
“Of course I do. How could I ever forget. I mean we are literally sitting on the ramp that it happened on.” He reminisced. 
“Remember when I told you that I was yours and you were mine? That was probably said in the heat of the moment, but I meant it Felix. I’m not the kind of person who says things for the sake of saying them. Plus, I’m not focused on anybody other than you.” You say, closing your eyes again as the cool air brushes against your face. 
Though your eyes are closed, you sense that Felix was staring at you. You hear his clothes rustle before you’re wrapped up in his arms. 
He is cuddling you. 
“Doll, I’m sorry. I didn’t just say those things because we were high off oxytocin. You really mean so much to me. I don't want us to argue, I just want us to be together. For real. No hesitations, no take backs. Just you and me living how we do, but together as one.”
You can feel something wet drip into the crook of your neck. You know it’s not raining so you figure he has started to cry. 
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings Y/n. It’s not what I wish to ever do to the person I love.” He sobs. 
You open your eyes as you hear his admittance. The person he loves. The person he loves. 
“You love me?”
“I’m in love with you. I was trying to make sense of if I truly meant it over that week and I reacted like I did earlier because I know you didn’t love me back. I was embarrassed.” He confessed. 
You turn over in his arms as you grab ahold of his face. It’s dark now, but a nearby light creates a twinkle in his eyes. 
“I want you to be sure that this is what you want. You don’t have to promise me forever, but promise me that this is truly what you want until it isn’t.” You say gently. 
His bottom lip wobbles slightly as he takes a deep breath in then out. 
“I am sure. I promise. I love you, I’m in love with you. I want us to be best friends. I want us to be lovers. I want it all. I want you.” He whispers against your lips. 
You smile, wiping his tears away with your thumb. 
“Okay, me too. We’re locked in?” You hold up your pinky. 
“We’re locked in.” He connects his pinky with yours and pulls your face in to kiss you softly. 
The two of you lay there in each other’s arms for the rest of that evening until a security guard ushered the two of you away. 
As you walk hand in hand down the street, you’re just glad that you have this ball of sunshine all to yourself. For as long as time allows. 
seungmin | 1.5k (1518) words 
You were nervous. More nervous than you expected yourself to get. Which is probably how you find yourself scrambling to get your phone, sending Seungmin a message to say that you don’t want to meet up and would rather just call. 
His reply after reading your message was to immediately dial you up, leaving no time for you to think about what you’re going to say and how you’re going to say it. 
You answer the phone with baited breath. 
“Why didn’t you want to meet me? You nervous or something?” He says very straightforwardly. 
Yes. 
“No. Just realised that I have things to do and I can multitask if I speak with you over the phone.” You lie. 
You hear him sigh on the other side of the line. 
“I’d rather you weren’t multitasking whilst we are having an important conversation about us. Pay attention.”
Your jaw clenches as you bite your tongue. 
“Fine. Since you want to be such an adult about this, why don’t you do us the honour and start us off?” You quip. 
“You already know how I feel about that night. About us blurring those lines between friendship and something more. We shouldn’t have. Having said that, I value our friendship too much to let something like that fuck it up.” Seungmin says plainly. 
You roll your eyes, not understanding what exactly he means by that. 
“Okay…but you do realise that us sleeping together has changed everything, right?” You say unwavering in your tone. 
“Wrong.”
You waited for him to finish what you hoped would be a longer sentence, but all you could hear was the minor feedback from the other end of the line. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you try again. 
“What do you mean, wrong? Things can’t go back to normal after that night, shit, after everything that’s happened between us.” You exclaim. 
“And I’m not saying they have to—”
“You are absolutely not still using me as a way to blow your load Seungmin.” You interrupt harshly. 
You hear him groan on the other end of the phone to which you decide to put him on speakerphone and place him on your bed. You wipe your face with your hands in frustration as you wait for him to speak. 
“I’m not going to do this with you if you’re going to be angry for starters. Especially if you’re going to be interrupting me. Got it?” He asserts. 
You release a huff of air, choosing to stay quiet in regards to what he has just said, but you reluctantly agree. 
“Fine, sorry. Carry on.” You say as nicely as you can muster up. 
“What I’m saying is I care about you Y/n. I don’t think it’s fair that people have also been feeding you troubles about our friendship. It’s between us and not them. They don’t know what the fuck is going on and I’ll be getting on their asses for that later, but right now my focus is on you.” He explains. 
You stay quiet, noting the fact that he is now outside and walking. 
“Seungmin, you can’t seriously fault our friends for noticing something you were determined to ignore. We were doing things couples do!”
“But we aren’t a couple. That is what I’m trying to get at Y/n.” He says exasperated. You hear a police siren go by on his end of the line which muffles the last part of his sentence. 
“Then why even do all that with me? Of course I was going to catch feelings. I’d be stupid not to!” You exclaim, resting your head in your hands. 
He’s quiet. The only sounds to be heard is the distorted traffic. You sit there unmoving, wondering why he isn’t speaking. 
A loud series of knocks on your door jolt you out of your trance. 
“One second, someone is at my door.” You alert Seungmin. Putting on your slippers, you rush to the door. You open it and you feel your face run cold. 
Seungmin huddles over, catching his breath before he makes a show to end the call between the two of you. 
“I am not having this conversation with you over a fucking phone.” He pants. 
He lets himself in, your mind still boggled at the fact that he chose to fast walk over here just to have this conversation. You’re both touched and terrified. Touched because he seems to really care about talking about your relationship in person. Terrified because this is getting much more serious than you thought it was. 
It’s times like these where you wish you and Seungmin hadn’t planned to live so close together. Now you have no choice but to face him in the flesh. 
In the time that you were finally able to come to your senses and shut your front door, Seungmin had taken off his shoes and jacket and was standing behind you waiting. 
He grabs ahold of your hand and leads you to your own bedroom. 
“Seungmin, I don't want to have angry sex with you.” You blurt out. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle, but he’s already sitting you on the edge of your bed. 
He places his hands on your shoulders and imitates taking a deep breath in and out. 
“No, that is not what I’m here to do.” He crawls up to the top of your bed and sits resting against the headboard. “I am here to make amends and stop what shouldn’t have started in the first place.” He says calmly. 
You have to hold your stomach to try and soothe the impending vomit that is about to ascend up and out of your mouth. 
“I’m gonna be honest with you Seungmin. What you did, knowing you never wanted it to happen or go this far, was not cool. I’m not saying you’re to blame for the whole of it…but as someone who was catching feelings and seemingly thought you were as well, I genuinely thought that us continuing to be intimate with each other was because you liked me.” You finish. 
As you sit crossed-legged at the foot of the bed and Seungmin sits at the head, you start to feel this strange disconnect between the two of you. 
Seungmin sits there silent, clearly thinking of something to say in response. 
“I…I think I didn’t stop it because it felt good.” He says. 
“Good because it was us or good because you had someone to calm your sexual frustrations?” You ask. 
The way he hesitates to answer and hold eye contact with you tells you everything you need to know. 
You let out a scoff, getting up from your bed and starting to pace laps in your room. 
“I cannot believe this. You were the last person who I thought would do this to me.” You say, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 
“Y/n you know I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I-I care about you!” He says now getting up from the bed. 
He goes to reach out and grasp your arm but you step out of his way, causing him to stumble slightly. 
Not only are you fighting your tears, but you are battling your inner turmoil. Something like this would deem him unfit to stay in your life, no?
You couldn’t possibly still be his closest friend if he truly just used you for pleasure, right?
“Y/n please look at me.” He says, his hands now balling up besides his legs. 
“I can’t do this anymore. I want you to leave.” You speak barely above a whisper. 
“What?”
“I want. You. To leave.” Your voice cracks slightly, but you turn around to face him. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open, as if he isn’t quite sure that this is what you mean. 
Taking the initiative, you walk out of your bedroom and to your front door. You hear his footsteps behind you, murmuring a few ‘waits’ and ‘calm downs’. Grabbing his jacket, you shove it in his chest and step back. 
Your arms are wrapped around yourself for comfort as you keep your head held low. 
Seungmin silently puts on his jacket and shoes and reaches for the door handle. Yet, as he is about to open the door, he pauses midway through his movement. 
“Leave your house or leave you forever?” He says disconcertingly. 
You lift your head up, his back facing you. You assess him for only a moment. His hand that strangles the door handle shakes slightly and his other hand grasps his jacket. 
“Both.” You choke. 
He doesn’t miss a beat. Swinging open the door and leaving without looking back. 
Just like that, all those years of friendship cut abruptly due to the confounding circumstances that conspired between the two of you. 
Some could say it was rather quixotic of you to expect that you could actually have a relationship with Seungmin. 
Though you would just say that perhaps falling in love with your best friend was never the right path, but one you were unfortunate enough to take. 
i.n | 1.2k (1257) words
You can’t control the way you feel. You’re hurt. You’re beyond angry. You’re hysterical. How dare he talk to you like that? How dare he disregard everything the two of you have been through because he wants to stay your ‘best friend’?
You well and truly can’t promise that you won’t blow up on him when he gets here. That’s if he even bothers to show up. He’s already twenty minutes late and you’re sitting in the cold, on a park bench, drinking your hot chocolate.
“Y/n!” Jeongin calls out to you as he walks over to sit beside you on the bench.
“Where’s mine?” He says, his voice laden with sarcasm as he points to your drink. He quirks his eyebrow at you as he assesses your mood and it certainly isn’t one accommodating his jokes at the moment. 
Breathe…breathe…
He turns to face you, one leg crossed beneath him as his arm rests on the back of the bench, his gloved fingers tapping a beat on your shoulder. 
“Are you feeling better now? You’re gonna talk this out with me like the adults we are, hm?” He smiles.
You turn to face him, unable to mask your ire. 
“Just best friends huh?” You speak for the first time in a while. 
Jeongin stops tapping your shoulder to run his fingers through his hair. Tugging his coat closer around him to provide some sort of warmth to not only protect himself from the bitter chill of the air, but the icy look in your eyes.
“I admit, crossing those lines with you was never my intention. Being that I didn’t kiss or sleep with you because I wanted a relationship with you. I guess I was just lonely, you were available…tensions were high and we couldn’t control ourselves.”
You actually feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. This is not the Jeongin you knew and loved as your best friend. No, he was far nicer than what you’re currently faced with.
You are rendered speechless. The only thing you can think to do is take another sip of your hot chocolate.
It would be ideal if your hands stopped shaking.
“You get where I’m coming from though right? Like I said, I care for you. More than anybody else I know, but what we did was a mistake and that’s okay. We’ll know to never let those boundaries be crossed again alright?” He says placing a hand on your thigh.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Y/n–”
“Jeongin get your hand off of me, now.”
The smile that you used to adore, now falls from his face. His lips thinning as his jaw clenches and his gaze hardens.
“I genuinely thought that you had reason to be so pissy at me, you know, due to your work being so busy and all,” You laugh bitterly. “But you really are just a fucking asshole.”
He rolls his eyes and moves to get up before your hand reaches out to stop him.
“Sit the fuck down, I’m not done with you. I’m only going to say it once.” You say acrimoniously. 
Heeding your warning, he sits back down, his hands finding solace in his lap. 
“See, I was speaking with Hyunjin when you were supposedly too busy to talk to me and he gave me some pretty good advice.” You say finishing the rest of your drink and setting it aside. 
“What are you doing asking him for advice? He has no business knowing what goes on between the two of us, let alone an argument.” He spits.
Ignoring his disapproval, you elect yourself to continue. 
“He said that you don’t deserve me in your life. That a best friend would never, should never treat me like that–”
“Oh bull-fucking-shit! He is only saying that so that he can gets his filthy hands on you himself.” He interrupts, shaking his head as he looks beyond the lake at the horizon.
“I agree.” 
Jeongin nods his head in approval to your words. 
“You don’t deserve me in your life.”
His head snaps to yours as he sits up straight, clasping his hands together as he tilts his head.
“What?”
“I am not your little fucktoy for you to use whenever you get sick of your hand. I’m not the easy option because I’m the closest you can get to getting off without people catching on. You know because we’re best friends, right? No one will suspect a thing, right?”
You have started, gone past the point of no return as you lay into him and rightfully so. 
“I thought you had calmed down from earlier? What, did you discuss with Hyunjin all of the things to say to me before I got here? The fuck does he know? He doesn’t even know you like I do!” He exclaims, his voice raising in pitch. 
You gawk, unable to believe how he just bypassed what you said to talk shit about his friend. 
“This isn’t about Hyunjin for fuck’s sake! This is about us! Or rather the lack of.” You stand up, taking deep breaths as you pace in front of him back and forth. “You keep talking to me like I’m some fucking child. Like I can’t comprehend the words that are coming out of my mouth.”
You stop in front of him, sighing. 
“I don’t want to be in your life anymore. I’m done.”
His eyes widen as he grasps ahold of your hands, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.
“You don’t mean that. You’re just angry. You want me to apologise? Okay sure. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used you like that and let it get that far knowing I wasn’t ready for a relationship.” He begs. 
You feel your eyes start to well up with tears. This isn’t how you imagined a six year friendship to end, but alas, here the two of you are. 
He stands now, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, his eyes darting between yours. 
“Come on. Let’s not act rash now Y/n. It was a mistake.” He keeps trying to reassure you. 
You shake his hands off of your face as you take a step back. 
“It wasn’t a mistake for me. It never was and never will be because I didn’t just see you as someone who was available. I’m serious, I won’t be treated like shit. Not anymore and certainly not by you.” You affirm. 
He lets his hands fall to his sides, his fists clenching. 
“So this is it huh? You really wanna leave me, leave six years of friendship because you got your feelings hurt?” He asks. 
“Fuck you, Jeongin. Don’t contact me ever again. I’m finished.” You say scoffing a laugh. 
You pick up your empty cup and start to walk away, not bothering to turn back to see how he reacts. Only then do you let the tears run marathons down your face. 
Little did you know, his fists unclenched and his hands were brought to his face. He collapses onto the bench, watching your figure get smaller and smaller until he can no longer see you. 
It was in that moment, where Jeongin only just realised how royally he had fucked up. His head falls into his hands as he takes deep breaths. 
The smoke caused from the cold air and the warmth of his mouth floating along the sky. Much like you, floating out of his life and disappearing. Lost to the abyss of a forever memory in his heart. 
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a/n: the plate is still full i fear because why do i hate this so much AHSGAIA SGAISBSKSVG (i apologise. i said i would deliver, but the package got lost in transit)
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russellsppttemplates · 3 months
Text
That’s bullshit if I’ve heard of any (Lando Norris)
Lando finally had enough of seeing you hurt like that
Note: english is not my first language. I've been writing this one for a little bit and today felt like the day to finish it ✨️ this also felt close to home, but good to write it out, too!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: reader's self-doubt and low self esteem, loneliness, curse words, mentions a bad date with a rude person
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Are you sure you want me to come over?", you asked your best friend over the phone, refusing to accept that he had no better plans for his Friday night now that he was not racing.
"Is this your way of telling me you don't want to come over? Because that's fine, I'll stay in - are you going somewhere though? Like a date?", Lando said over the phoneline.
"Bold of you to assume I would have plans, and with a date nonetheless", you muttered, "all I'm saying is if you have something better to do, you should go do it!", you explained, not wanting to get into the topic too deeply.
"There's nothing better than spending time with my bestfriend! Do you need me to pick you up or do you feel comfortable driving at this time of night?", he wondered, "I'll be there in 10 then", you chatted off, ending the call.
Looking around your room, you found clothes that were both comfortable and presentable in case, with your usual luck, you were pulled over by the police and had to come out of your car.
Lando finally had some time off before the season began and he wanted to spend it with you. While you were usually able to fly out to most of the European races and even travel the long distance to other race tracks, this season you had more responsibilities to juggle between your internship, your studies and your family.
He arranged the pillows on the sofa and brought out your favourite snacks, getting his place ready while occupying the time until you rang his doorbell, walking up to the door so he could let you inside, "hey!", he greeted, excited to finally have you with him after weeks where you both had been busy.
"Hey", you said, nudging his hip slightly with yours as you went to the shoe cabinet, leaving your shoes there and putting on your slippers you kept at his house.
Following him silently to the living room, you watched him sit down as you took in the comfort his place made you feel.
"You're not okay", Lando stated, "I noticed when we were on the phone".
"So this is a pity visit?", you wondered, "That's why you called me over?", you grumbled, feeling the blush erupt on your cheeks along with a little annoyance.
"I never said that! I, I called you and then noticed you weren't okay! Scoot, scoot, I got a tray full of goodies for us to eat", Lando urged, pushing the blanket to the side so you could get in the warm cocoon he created with the soft fabric along with pillows in various shapes and sizes you had insisted he needed to make the place feel more home-y.
"Are you going to talk about what's on your mind or do you want to watch this new show in silence?", he wondered, pointing the remote at the TV.
"I don't want to talk about it, not now anyway", you grumbled, finding your perfect position as you laid against your bestfriend, his arm going around your shoulders as you snuggled your legs under the blanket.
The new show ended up involving a romantic couple which only heightened your feelings. Lately, it was all you could see. Everyone around you seemed to have something romantic going on and they were happy with it. One of your friends was even convinced that she would be proposed to within the next few months, and you were single. Soon enough after you entered these thoughts, they pulled you to questions like why won't people love me? why am I single? what is it that doesn't attract people to me? and the one that you had yet to find a proper answer to, the list becoming too long for your own good am I unlovable?
"Can we watch something else, please?", you asked after debating for a few minutes wether or not you should interrupt, "I'm sorry, but I'm not enjoying it that much", you mumbled.
"That's okay, Y/N, I'll just put on one of our reruns", he smiled, changing the streaming platform and looking for the square on the screen, "if you want to just lay here, that's fine, too", he encouraged.
"At least I'm not alone with my thoughts", you mumbled again, looking at the ceiling as Lando moved his neck to join you, "I'm not sure what you mean, but I'm here for you anyway", he squeezed your hand that found its way to his own.
"It's just, - I've been reflecting? I don't even know if that's the word, but I've been feeling lonely", you blurted, still unsure if you were voicing all of it.
Lando hummed, urging you to continue, "like, I'm craving to have somebody there for me, someone who I know is in my corner, who I feel totally comfortable with. My brother was telling me all about the stuffed bunny his girlfriend asked him to take care off! I want that with someone", you pouted.
Lando tensed, rearranging his position on the sofa to look at you softly as you kept looking at his white ceiling.
"Maybe I should be less opinionated, less vocal about what I think and feel", you mused.
You'd lose your essence, Lando thought as he heard you rant on and on about the traits you wanted to change about yourself.
"Changing something physical is harder, but maybe I can change that, right? Be a bit quieter with what I say, measure my opinions, say yes and agree with things more", you shrugged, shaking the whole thing off of your body, wanting to rid yourself of the thought, "I can't, I won't be able to do that, they'd notice it straight away", you sighed.
As the night went on, Lando quickly changing the subject, you spoke about anything that came to mind until you looked at your watch, "Fuck, it's so late, I have to go", you stood up quickly, bending to pick your slippers up from the floor when he stopped you, "stay in the guest bedroom for tonight. Sleep here", he tried.
"Is it because I said I was lonely? I was just venting it out, you don't need to worry about me being a loner", you tried your best to assure it.
"No, you muppet. I'm doing it because I don't like the idea of you having to drive all the way back at this time of night", he reasoned, getting up himself and walking with you to the guest bedroom.
"Is this still made from the last time I was here?", you wondered, looking at the sheets.
"I made it before you came here! And I've washed the sheets, thank you very much. You have a fresh bed to sleep on", he smiled charmingly.
"Thanks", you smiled back, grabbing the clothes you usually wore to sleep when you stayed over from the drawer, "those have been washed, too", he pointed, "if you need anything, I'm in my usual spot", he winked, "Good night, Y/N, sleep tight!".
"Thanks for this", you gestured, "Good night, Lando", you said before he saluted you playfully, closing the door behind him.
Using the ensuite for your night routine, you changed into the shorts and Lando's t-shirt, noticing that all of the washes had made it smell less of his cologne and more of the scented fabric softener he uses.
The t-shirt fit snug against your hips, embracing your curvy body as you got under the sheets, letting the weight of them lull you to sleep and slow down your thoughts.
.
Lando was driving to a restaurant he knew well enough. He had had a few dates there before, one team dinner and a few family birthdays too whenever they were in town.
But right now, he was picking you up. From a date that apparently wasn't going well since he got a text from you asking him to pick you up.
"Hey, gorgeous girl", he said once he opened the car window as he parked in front of the restaurant, thankful that it wasn't too busy and no one seemed to notice or care that he was there.
"Thanks for picking me up", you mumbled as you sat down, pulling on your seatbelt and nothing your bestfriend's gaze on you, silently questioning you.
"He was an asshole", you explained, "kept asking me if I was sure of what I was doing, if I knew any Formula One drivers - don't worry, didn't out anything - and then he just kept being rude to me, to the waiter, who was wonderful by the way".
"I didn't mean him. I don't care about him, I care about you", Lando said, driving back to his place, assuming you'd want to have someone close by that wouldn't ask too many questions.
"It was just another one where it didn't go well", you mumbled, letting your head rest on the window and looking out at the lights illuminating the city.
"Do you want to go to my place?", Lando asked, knowing you wouldn't want to be pushed about the subject, "yes, please", you said.
As soon as you got inside his place, you took your shoes off, walking up to the spare bedroom to leave your bag in there, "thank you for picking me up, you're the best, Lando", you smiled as you rested against the door frame.
"No worries, okay? Sleep tight, I have good plans for tomorrow so this will be out of your mind", he smiled a small one.
"Night night, Lando", you said back, closing the door behind you and letting the tears finally fall.
It was horrible. The way he treated other people should have been the first clue and red flag, but somehow it still surprised you how he conducted the whole date. You weren't expecting a prince or a gentleman, but you expected human decency and it turns out you were not afforded that. He kept leaving snarky comments about his exes. He was rude, sexist and definitely not your type, and after splitting the bill, you informed him that someone would come to pick you up.
Could someone be unlovable? Not worthy of love to the point where anyone they attracted to their presence just wasn't a match and they had to be content with the bare minimum?
Splashing some water on your face and wiping it with the towel, you took one good look in the mirror. It looks like it's going to be you for a while, so you might as well get used to it, Y/N.
.
When morning rolled around, Lando was the first to wake up, getting ready and heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the two of you. He wanted to make something special, because even though you had your tough shell on yesterday, he knew you were feeling it deeply and painfully.
This quest of yours was doing you more harm than good. And it wasn't helping him either. For a few years, Lando figured, he has loved you. At first, it wasn't a clear sentiment. You were best friends, obviously there was a deeper connection. But then it felt so much all the time, there was never a break for the butterflies on his stomach or for the jealous green eyed monster whenever you so much as mentioned anyone else. He wouldn't dare say it, but he's so glad your date last night sucked.
As he prepared your coffee, your footsteps approached, "Good morning", you croaked out. You looked like you hadn't slept well, which Lando figured was a given considering the heard you move a lot during the night.
"Good morning, I made this for you. The balcony had nice sunlight right now, I figured you'd enjoy breakfast there", he attempted, bringing a small smile to your lips as you thanked him for the mug, "I'll bring the rest shortly", he called.
As you looked out to the always busy streets, you took in their quickness and rush. How it was all fleeting and momentary.
Lando placed the tray on the table, arranging it so you both could reach everything.
"I heard you crying last night", he began, his fist clenched at the memory as he sat down.
"I'm fine", you shrugged.
"I don't think you are, and I don't want you to suffer, Y/N", he insisted, unusually bold considering he knew which territory he was stepping into.
"It's not easy to come to terms with the fact that I'm single and that it might look like that for a bit, and who even knows how long that 'bit' might actually be", you chuckled, looking at him expecting his understanding gaze but being face with furrowed brows instead along with a scoff. "What? It's not like I'm being unreasonable, I'm just stating the facts", you squinted.
"That's not how it works, and you know that Y/N", he sternly spoke, straightening his back and facing you completely.
It was your time to laugh and scoff a little, "unless something changes within me, I'm sure this is how I'll find myself in the foreseeable", you shock your head.
"All of those things you want to change about yourself? Or that you say you should change to make you more likeable and lovable? That's dimming your light and your spark", Lando bit back, having had enough of it, "if someone loved you after all of those changes, they wouldn't love you for who you are, they would love a fabricated version of you. You're not unlovable", he smiled at the irony of it all. How after all these years, he still hadn't plucked up the courage to tell you how he felt about you.
"How can you say that when you have everyone falling at your feet? Women see you and they're ready to have anything you'll give them! You don't have to change who you are because someone made you feel like you couldn't be loved because of who you are and what you do!", you bit back, sensing a tone in him that was unusual and certainly not comfortable.
“I just need to know who the fuck told you you don’t deserve to be loved, because I’m about to beat their asses up", Lando called, elbows supported on the chair's arms as he looked at you.
"No one's ever told me, I'm probably the one saying it to myself, the rest of the people just make me feel like I'm unlovable, so if you want to hit me, I would prefer you didn't, I bruise quite easily", you tried to joke, not wanting to let your mind wander to the parallel utopian reality where your bestfriend feels the same way about you.
"Then it's all the people that made you feel unloved", Lando said, "none of them deserved a second of your attention, but I can give them a second of mine just for that".
“That’s a lot of people you’re gonna have to beat up, then, and I’m not sure if I want to bail you out of jail for that. We can't all have full bank accounts like yours", you joked again, watching him as he kept on with the subject.
"Stop joking about this! I'm being serious with you, Y/N! You deserve all of the love in the world - and even that wouldn't be enough!", he got up.
“Please, I think we have both realised and reached the conclusion that maybe I’m just not meant to be loved", you added.
“That’s bullshit if I’ve heard of any! No one’s not meant to be loved. There’s someone out there for you, and I think I’ve made it clear that, if it’s really not anyone else, then that someone’s me”, he stopped in front of you. There it was. Out in the open for everyone to hear. His balcony was covered and closed, something he was grateful about as he confessed his love for you.
"You can't joke about this", it was your turn to mention it, getting up as he took your hand in his.
"I'm not, Y/N, I'm really not", he whispered, resting his forehead in yours.
"Kiss me", you pleaded. He was quick to comply to your request, hand cupping your cheek as he tasted the bitter coffee from your lips and felt you unravel to him in a way he didn't think was possible anymore.
"I have loved you for so long, Lando", you whispered once you pulled away for air, "and I couldn't imagine a world where anyone would love me back, let alone you", you admitted, looking into his beautiful orbs.
"You don't have to make any effort to imagine it anymore, baby. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. You're so loved and I'll be damned if I don't show you how much everyday of our lives", he smiled, kissing your lips again as your hands travelled to his messy curls.
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repulsiveliquidation · 5 months
Text
One Call Away
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bottom! Alexia Putellas x top! Reader
this is just straight up smut. you could consider it a part two of that ramble i wrote a couple days ago.
“Fuck, that’s…fuck…”
Alexia sat on the couch of the apartment with her iPad propped up on the coffee table. She was as naked as the day she was born, clothes strewn all over the couch. It looked thrown around haphazardly like she was in a hurry to get naked. Her fingers dipped into her core, languidly stroking her slick folds. Knees wide open and bent, she slipped a finger into her drooling mouth, coating it in her spit before dragging it through her soaked cunt. In her it went, it met no resistance whatsoever. She had her eyes locked onto her iPad, watching the 15-minute video she had saved.
“ah, fuck bebé! You’re so deep!”
It makes her even wetter when she hears her voice echo through the apartment. She sucks on another finger, cheekily getting a taste of herself from the other that was in her, slipping that back into her dripping hole with a long sigh. She was teasing, building up her pleasure in waves. Feet pressed on the edge of the coffee table, she spread herself wider with a throw pillow propped under her ass. It was a mess, soaked with her syrupy arousal.
“Oh, you like that. Don’t you, you slut?”
She gasped when her finger grazed her spot, her body jolting off the couch in surprise. She grinned at herself, dragging her fingers out of her. She sucked on them, moaning loudly at the pungent taste of herself on her fingers. The video looped itself, starting all over again. After that first time of being filmed, the two of you had curated a little personal stash of sex tapes that were helpful when one or the other was away. Seeing as you had been picked to be on the traveling team to Sweden this week, Ale was left to her own devices. The quickie in bed this morning wasn’t enough for her, she found herself so fucking soaked when she got home from training after you had left for the airport with the team.
“Look at you, taking my cock so well…”
She grabbed the aforementioned cock that was next to her. It was weighty and thick, she knew exactly how this felt inside her, how you felt inside her. She whined, dragging the cock up and down her folds. Suddenly she had an idea. She grabbed her phone and checked the time, grinning happily when she realized that you were probably in the hotel by now. Hoping you had your room to yourself, she searched for your contact and hit the call button. Leaving it on speaker as it rang, she grabbed the cock again and teased the tip into her cunt. It was a little bit of a stretch, one she loved so much.
The call connected, your slightly tired voice reaching her ears. She pushed the cock fully into herself then, her voice stuttering as she answered your call for her.
“Hi baby,” you called, sitting up in bed in your hotel room.  
“A-Are you alone, bonita?” she asked, dragging the dildo in and out of her core achingly slow. The slick sounds weren’t loud, barely able to hear over the phone.
“Yes, I am. Ona is in Lucy and Keira’s room.” Your eyes narrow at her question, leaning back into the middle of your bed.
“Do you maybe want to help your needy girlfriend out? Or would you rather leave her aching and begging for you in her empty apartment?”
“Show me,” you growl, as she switches the call to video on her iPad. The Facetime call shows you in the corner while she watches her chosen sex tape in the back. You groan and throw your head back, leaning forward into the camera. She grabs the end of the dildo and fucks herself with it, whining at the pleasure that surges through her. You’ve texted Ona and told her to stay as long as she wanted to in Lucy’s room, eager to play out Alexia’s fantasies of being a fucking tease from another country.
Alexia squeezes at her breast, moaning louder now. She didn’t slow down her thrusting, dragging the dildo in and out of her faster. Your eyes were hooded, sitting at the desk in the hotel room. She moaned for you, begging for you to let her cum.
“Slow down you slut; being a little fucking whore, aren’t ya Ale? Didn’t I fuck your pretty pussy this morning?”
She slows down the thrusts, looking directly at you in the camera. The video was long forgotten, playing on mute for her to visually enjoy. You were fucking her in the kitchen for this one, pounding into her cunt with vigor and finesse. She hasn’t been able to make breakfast without getting horny since; her thighs rubbing together deliciously when she was making your breakfast this morning despite already having been railed into the mattress just a half hour ago.
“Not enough…” she whined, stilling the cock inside her to flick at her clit. She was so swollen, licking her fingers to rub her nub in soft circles.
“Not enough, huh? What makes you think your behavior today should convince me to let you cum?”
She looks up at you in horror, sitting up a little.
“But-But…”
“Be a good girl and do as I say, I’ll consider it.”
She whines, settling back into the couch awaiting her next orders.
“Take it out.”
“But, bebé–”
“Take. It. Out.” You growl, and she obeys, pulling the dildo out of her with a wet squelch. She looks deep into your eyes, chest heaving slightly.
“Three fingers, around and about. Put them in and I will end this fucking call right now.”
She does as you say, three nimble fingers lazily caressing her slick folds and gaping hole. It winks at you, the tips of her fingers sending shocks through her body. The thrill of you watching her makes her arousal pool beneath her, the pillow under her mentioned earlier could never be used again.
“Slap your clit,” you instruct, voice not even seeming a little affected by her actions. A resoundingly wet slap, followed by a moan rang through the hotel room.
“Give me ten Ale, don’t you dare be gentle,” you huffed at her, voice dropping a little to a deep commanding tone that got Ale to obey so quickly it was concerning.
Unquestioningly, Alexia gives her clit ten hard smacks that resound through the phone. Thank Apple for the great microphones on their devices. She’s shuddering and whining, pussy clenching achingly around nothing.
“Are you close already, Alexia?” you ask, tone utterly unbothered by your girlfriend’s whining. She’s got tears pooling in her eyes, lips bitten as she tries to hold herself together. You’ve moved closer to the screen, eyes fixed on the view of her gaping hole and perked nipples.
“Please bebé…” she begs, tears falling down her cheeks in frustration.
“I asked you a question puta, are you close?” you question again, teeth gnashed down a little. She nods fervently, muttering yeses louder and louder.
“Good. One finger, inside. Now.”
She slips her middle finger into her cunt, cunt so sloppy and loose it barely has resistance. She whimpers softly, biting her other hand to keep her voice down. She adjusts her arm to get her finger in deeper, jolting when she grazes her sweet spot. She looks at you from her eyelashes, your face focused on her and her only. Her heart skipped a beat, her eagerness to obey you doubling.
“Another for me, Ale. You’re being so good, baby girl.”
She slides in a second finger, pumping her middle and ring finger in and out of her pussy faster. You don’t say anything, letting her have a little fun.
“Get your other hand out of your mouth, I want to hear that whore of a voice moan for me.”
She pulls her hand away, reaching back to grip the back of the couch. She gasped and scrunched her face in pleasure, palm grazing over her hypersensitive clit.
“Stop.”
“Huh? Cariño please!”
“Alexia.” Your voice was firm and left her no room for more arguments as she pulled her thick fingers out of her.
“Get the toy.”
She does.
“Suck on it. The least you could do is put on a show for me.”
She bites her lip and cautiously brings the toy to her lips. She licks up it, humming softly when she tastes herself on it. Her pretty lips wrap around the tip as she imagines you at the other end making her take it. She whines, sucking more and more of it into her mouth. You watch intently; she’s making it harder and harder for you to keep your composure and not join her in her pleasure.
She takes it to the base, and a loud gag makes her pull away. She licks up her messy saliva, smiling at you.
“Good girl Ale, my prettiest cocksucker. Always so eager to please.”  
She pants hard, licking her lips slowly patiently awaiting further instruction.
“Go on, put it in. Fuck yourself on my favorite strap. Is that why you picked that one bonita? Because it’s my favorite one to fuck you with?”
“Sí, sí! I love it when you fuck me with this one…”
She ends her sentence and slips the thick toy into her. She sighs, languidly thrusting the dildo in and out of her. she’s extremely hyper-aroused, just a little sensation sends her reeling in for more.
“Fuck, bebé…”
“That feels good, right cariño?”
"¡Muy bien, tu polla se siente tan bien...!"
She was slurring, tongue heavy and head utterly cock-drunk from how long she had been on edge. Her orgasm was fast approaching, fucking herself with the dildo as fast as she could, almost forgetting you were there.
“Alexia,” you call once again, snapping her out of her eagerness to come.
“I didn’t say you could go faster, honey. On your knees, move to the tv.”
She immediately gets on her knees, moving the iPad to face the clear space underneath the TV. She crawls to it, securing the dildo down on the floor.
“Wanna see you ride it, princesa. Exactly how you ride me.” You challenge as she sinks onto the fake cock. Her muscular thighs flex with every bounce, hands grasping her breasts with hard squeezes that make her whine and shudder.
“Good girl, bonita. Such a fucking slut for me aren’t you Alexia?”
“Sí!” she bounces harder, moaning louder than before.
“Who’s slut are you, Alexia?”
The degrading nature of your voice, paired with her full name was doing things to her that she could not explain. She was La Reina, Alexia Putellas. Yet here she was, feeling like a shameless slut as she rode a cock for her lover to watch.
“Yuh-Your slut! I-I’m your slut, Y/N!”
“Cum for me then, mi reina.”
“Fuck!”
She tried to keep riding the cock, hands falling forward to catch herself from falling. It was one of the most intense orgasms of her life, she felt like her entire body was experiencing euphoria. Her legs trembled and quaked with her orgasm, electric shocks coursing through her as she rode out her high. Her eyes saw white for a second, ears ringing so deafeningly she almost missed your voice calling her name with pure adoration.
“Ale? Princesa, please. Are you okay?”
She looked up, throwing her long blonde hair back. she smiled sleepily, licking her lips as she pulled herself off the toy. She scooted back over to the couch, wrapping herself up in a blanket. You smiled, settling back into your bed just as Ona walked back into the room.
“I love you, mi amor. I miss you so much already.”
“I love you too, bebé. Score a goal for me?”
“Of course my love.”
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hyunfilms · 8 months
Text
connected (hhj) | one shot.
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—summary: a night alone at the bar leads you to a beautiful man named hyunjin.
—pairing: hwang hyunjin x f. reader
—genre: (18+) strangers to lovers | fluff, smut
—word count: 5.6k
—content/warnings: love at first sight kinda thing? soulmates if you really squint, was kinda inspired reading yung pueblo's poem (his poem isnt available anymore rip), cussing, model/artist hyunjin, oc and hyunjin are completely enamored by each other & hyunjin got googly eyes hehe, he is very sweet and a gentleman though, alcohol consumption, intoxication, kisses/making out, protected sex, praising, oral (f. receiving), fingering, sprinkle of spit play, ass-smacking, breast play, sprinkle of choking, missionary, doggy style 🤓 woof, multiple orgasms (like 2 lol), after care and cuddles, lightly edited so i apologize if i miss anything!!, very self-indulgent and just something i needed to write out 😭
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—ON ROTATION: fwm - tone stith / for us - v
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Sleepless nights.
It’s another one of those sleepless nights— for him, for her, for many people, for you.
Your business trip to Paris was coming to an end tonight; an early AM flight scheduled in the morning to bring you back to your beautiful, but also mundane life in California. Although grateful for the opportunity to travel here and explore for a week and a half, you were ready to get back to the familiar. The familiar places, the familiar faces, familiar routine. You sigh at the thought, finishing up your cocktail at the bar while scrolling through social media. 
“Another one, miss?” The bartender comes to you with a small smile on his face.
“Please. Thank you.” You nod and reciprocate the smile, eyes now glancing around the room as you feel the alcohol slowly running through your veins. The bar was beautifully decorated in dark, elegant decor, lights dimmed throughout the entire room. Luckily for you, your hotel room was only a few floors up— making it incredibly easy for you to enjoy yourself and let loose; something you haven’t been able to do while being bombarded with coworkers and a tight agenda.
Your eyes fall onto the couple just a table or two away. They’re enjoying their drinks, though their eyes say they’re bored and over each other with the way they can’t keep eye contact for longer than 2 seconds. Then, your eyes fall onto the lady in the far corner who is typing furiously away on her phone. Your eyes shift to the gentleman all the way down on the other end of the bar, repeatedly looking down at his watch before bringing the phone to his ear for the umpteenth time; probably waiting on a date that never showed up when they said they would.
“Whiskey on the rocks, please?” Your eyes now fall onto the tall, attractive man that slides into the empty seat next to you— setting his bag onto the surface before letting out a heavy sigh. He’s in a black sweater, slacks and black chelsea boots, and you can’t help but notice how everything sits on his figure so, so perfectly. Hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, a few bangs framing the sides of his face; freshly shaved undercut. His tongue quickly swipes the surface of his pink, plump lips before he thanks the bartender and sips on his drink— you’re sure you’ve never seen anybody so perfectly sculpted.
Was this a cruel joke?
“Your cocktail, miss.” You thank the bartender again before shyly sipping on your second glass of the night, trying to keep to your own space.
“Sorry, hope someone wasn’t sitting here already.” He suddenly says, making you turn towards him. There’s really no one else around but you two; perhaps, another individual a few seats down, and that gentleman at the end still waiting on his date. 
“Oh, um. No.” You give him a toothless smile. “You’re good.”
“Cool.” Is all he says before chugging the whiskey in his glass, asking for another round. “It’s been a long night. Wanna take a shot with me?” He turns to you again, licking his lips yet again. “No pressure.” You keep your eyes on him as you think about your next move. He is an attractive man, a harmless one at that. 
It’s your last night in Paris, what do you have to lose?
“Sure.” You shrug. “Why not?”
“Nice to know you’re down.” He laughs a bit before calling the bartender and asking for two shots. “What’s your poison?”
“Tequila.” He pokes his bottom lip out before nodding in agreement.
“Two shots of tequila it is, then.”
“Didn’t you just down some whiskey? That’s a little dangerous.” He laughs before turning in his seat to face you.
“Don’t worry about me sweetheart, I’m staying here.” Crazy, you think. Out of all the times to bump into someone who is also staying at this hotel. “What about you?”
“I’m here, too.” You sip on your drink some more.
“Then we’ll enjoy it.” He flashes his pearly whites when he smiles. “Hyunjin.” He holds out his hand.
“Y/N.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” He caresses the surface of your hand with his thumb just as the bartender comes back with two shot glasses filled to the brim with tequila. The bartender points to your cocktail with a smirk.
“Need a refill to wash down the tequila, or do you need something else?”
“I should be good. Thanks.” He winks before tending to the others down the line.
“So, Y/N. Where are you from?”
“California. What about you?”
“Seoul.”
“Nice. One of my friends moved there recently.” You quickly think about Lola, hoping she’s doing okay. Mental note to send her a message on Kakao later. “What brings you here?”
“Mm, probably the same reason as you.” Hyunjin smirks.
“Work?” He nods.
“See. Already have something in common.” You chuckle a bit, biting onto your bottom lip. “How long are you here for?”
“I’ve been here for close to two weeks. I’m heading back tomorrow morning.”
“Shame.” He does a slight head tilt. “We probably could have had fun exploring together.” You cock an eyebrow up before letting out a giggle.
“You think I’d be fun to explore with? A stranger?”  Hyunjin grabs his shot glass while gently pushing yours over to you.
“I mean, you were down to take a shot with me. Why wouldn’t you be?” He raises his shot glass. “Cheers, Y/N.” You take your shot glass and tap it against his, the both of you taking the shot to the neck. Hyunjin makes a face [that probably mirrors yours right now] before sipping on a soda as chase. You squint your eyes as the burn lingers down your throat, immediately reaching for your cocktail to chase the rest down— which is definitely not the best choice of action here.
But, you’re enjoying the night. The last night. 
With a beautiful, beautiful man next to you.
“Atta girl.” He laughs.
“Haven’t done that in awhile.”
“Feels kinda liberating in a sense, hm?” He teases. “Since I’m working with a deadline here, let’s get another round going while you tell me about yourself.”
“Another?”
“Last. Promise.” He winks.
“Hm.” You hum. “What can I tell you?” You ask, even though you mainly mean that question for yourself. What can you tell Hyunjin that is enough, and not too much?
“Why someone like you doesn’t have anyone by your side tonight?” He shrugs. “Or, anything. Everything, really. That works, too.” Hyunjin runs his finger along his bottom lip.
“Someone like me? Are you always this forward?” You tilt your head, already starting to feel the shot and cocktail. You like the way his eyes are glued on you, you like the way he says your name. You like the way he’s being forward, you like the way he looks tonight. You like him, you take interest in him.
He is exciting.
“No, but it’s the deadline.” He reminds you, making you snort.
“Well. It’s because I just don’t have anyone by my side in general.” You answer his question with a chuckle. “Just a 24 year old in tech, visiting their Paris office for another project.” You swirl the stirrer in your cocktail. “What about you? What brings you here?”
“Just a 23 year old dabbling in some art stuff. Some Fashion stuff.” He laughs, red tint coloring the surface of his cheeks just as the bartender brings another round of tequila shots. “Nothing too fancy.”
‘It sounds fancy.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He answers with another one of his cryptic responses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ready for round two?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” You mock him and he laughs, passing your shot glass.
“Cute.” He taps his shot glass against yours, giving you a nod of acknowledgment before you two are repeating the process— knocking the shot back, relieving the burn with some sort of chase, giggling at how quick the alcohol is hitting you both. You are drunk, and you should’ve eaten a bit more before this. Fuck. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“If you couldn’t tell already, I think you’re really, really pretty.”
“Is that so?” He nods cutely, and it makes you laugh.
“Mhm. So I mean it when I say I wanna know all about you.”
“You don’t give up, do you?” He shakes his head.
“Nah.” He smiles, bottom lip in between his teeth as he eyes your features. “So, what is Y/N all about?” He sits back a bit while his gaze lingers on you, your eyes. The tip of your nose. Your lips. Your long, beautiful lashes.
He is paying attention to every word that slips from your lips, watching your hand gestures as you quickly explain your family dynamics and how you’ve grown up in a quiet household— always remaining quiet, shy and kept to yourself even until this day. You tell him about your friends back home, how you love to stay at home and be a homebody, how you occasionally find the energy to haul yourself out for long, but fun nights with your girls. You also [drunkenly] stumble upon the topic of exes, which you don’t normally open up about right away. But you’re a few shots in, and it doesn’t help that Hyunjin is actually showing interest in you.
He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, and he doesn’t plan to.
“Yeah, we’re not really friends or anything like that anymore.” You blabber on. “He blocked me everywhere. Which, you know—” You hiccup, a bit more drunk than you were 5 minutes ago. “I kinda don’t care because he shouldn’t be asking to look through my phone every time I go out. I fucking left after that. No sir, not me. No thanks.” Hyunjin laughs, endeared by how quick you’ve opened up to him. He appreciates it, and he does enjoy the way you talk about life; even if you may view it as simple, quiet.
“You’re right for having left him.” Hyunjin leans forward a bit. “It’s not fair, especially when you’ve never given him a reason to distrust you. You deserve better than that.”
“You think so?” You chuckle.
“Mhm.” 
“Sorry, I totally went off and probably told you a lot more than you should know at this point.” He shakes his head. “What about you, Hyunjin?”
“No, I like hearing you talk. You’re very cute.” He laughs. “I’m not that interesting.”
“Really? I think you are.” You rest your chin on the palm of your hand.
“Yeah?” He smirks. “I just paint. A lot. I do some photoshoots. That’s all.”
“So are you like .. an artist, or something? A model?” He shrugs.
“I’m just Hyunjin.” He smiles. “But, I guess so? You can say that. I don’t have lots of friends, people oddly find me intimidating but I don’t care much to fix that either. I do stick to a few of them, we hang out often. I haven’t dated in awhile either, wasn’t really a priority for me.”
“Why did your last relationship end?” You internally curse yourself for fixing on that one detail out of everything else he’s mentioned. But, he doesn’t seem to mind. Spoiler: he doesn’t.
“Just didn’t click well like we thought we would.”
“I’m sorry.” He smiles.
“Don’t be. I like where I’m at.” 
“That’s all that matters, right?”
“Yeah. Especially right now.” You cock a brow up, head tilting to the side again.
“Right now?”
“Mhm, with you. A few shots and drinks down, pondering on life. My kinda evening. Makes me not regret a thing about coming here.”
“You’re funny.” 
“And you’re pretty.” He licks his bottom lip and bites onto it. His hand is only a few inches away from yours, pinky dying to reach out and pull your hand into his— wanting to playfully lace his fingers with yours. He’s not sure what it is, but he was drawn to you from the very moment he stepped into the bar. He smiled a bit to himself when he saw you people-watching, keeping to yourself as you sipped your drink and continued to scroll through your phone. You were totally oblivious to him from the beginning, and that was okay. Hyunjin wanted to quietly slip himself into the equation and find more subtle ways to talk to you, get to know you.
And he doesn’t regret a fucking thing.
He might be drunk, but he means it. He hasn’t ever felt this comfortable with a stranger, someone he met not too long ago. And that says a lot for him; it says a lot about you, your character. Meanwhile, you don’t think you’ll ever understand how someone like Hyunjin decided to waltz in and take this seat next to you at the time that he did. You’ll never understand the timing of everything, how the universe works and why it had to be a beautiful man like Hyunjin who found you first. But, you also don’t regret a damn thing, and you’re glad you decided to head to the bar tonight— especially alone.
When you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, it’s obvious that he’s feeling something— but that’s not the problem, no. You’re dying to find out what it means for the both of you tonight, how he plans to show you. Because you know he will, and that’s where the problem lies. What happens after that? When you both go along your merry ways?
“You know.. I think I’m just gonna call it a night soon.” You want to find out, but you don’t know if it’ll be good for you.
“Yeah?” You stand but find yourself stumbling on your own feet, letting out a laugh when you try to grab your things and keep yourself together. “Woah, pretty lady.” Hyunjin laughs with you. “How about I walk you to your room?” You pause. Fuck it.
“Okay, yeah. That’d be nice.”
“Alright, let me just pay for our tab—” He gives the bartender a look and gestures to close out the tab, his card already in his hand.
“What, no! Hyunjin.” You wrestle with your own wallet. “Let me pay for my own drinks.”
“Nah, I got you. On me.” He smiles sweetly. “Please.” You let out a sigh and surrender, letting him pay for the drinks before he stands and slips his card back into his wallet.
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you. For being good company.” He gives you a toothless smile. “So, where to?”
“10th floor?”
“After you.” He bids the bartender one last farewell before following you out of the bar and out into the hotel lobby. His eyes can’t help but linger down your figure; eyeing that tight, itty bitty off-the-shoulder dress and the way it hugs your curves, black over-the-knee boots hugging your legs nicely. 
Ain’t no way you were just planning on sitting at the bar looking that fine.
“Hyunjin?” You call for him as you both stand in front of the elevator doors, and he’s snapped out of his thoughts. “You don’t actually have to walk me. I can make it in one piece.” You giggle.
“Leave you alone while drunk? I don’t think so.” He chuckles.
“Hm.” You hum, eyes fixed on the elevator doors in front of you. Hyunjin stands right behind you— inches away, just close enough to feel the heat radiate from his body. When the elevator dings, Hyunjin gently presses his hand against the small of your back; pushing you forward into the elevator. The touch itself brings tingles down your spine, enough where it has you struggling to keep your composure. You lean against the back railing, while Hyunjin stands next to you— hand resting on the rail as he faces your direction. Your eyes meet his, and you feel yourself get weak in the knees;
So weak that your phone slips out of your hands, making a loud thud against the floor.
“Oops, shit.” You mutter.
“I got it.” Hyunjin laughs, bending down to grab your phone. You can’t help but watch his every move closely, watching as he bends down, large hand grabbing at your phone. He’s way too close to your legs at one point, and your mind wanders to what it would be like if he were in between— “Think that belongs to you, miss.” He teases, standing tall as he hands you your phone. “You sure you’re good?”
“I am.” Except, not. Because the elevator is ten times hotter than it was earlier, and it seems to be taking its sweet ol’ time getting to your floor. The tension is unreal.
“What’s on your mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“I can hear you thinking.”
“Mmm, I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean?” You pause as you look at him.
“I mean, has anyone ever told you how attractive you are?” You blurt out, alcohol definitely giving you that liquid courage to say anything and everything that’s currently running through your mind. “You just.. look like that.” He laughs.
“I could say the same for you, pretty. Trust me.” He leans forward towards your ear a bit, his scent lingering and trapping you in. “You wanna know something else?”
“Hm?”
“You make it very hard to not wanna kiss you.” He pulls back a bit to read your expression— almost like he’s giving you leverage to take it and run with it, or leave it. Everything in your court.
So, you choose.
And you choose by gently grabbing at his sweater, planting your lips on his for that first, initial kiss. His lips are soft and pillowy, just like you imagined. You only pull away a few inches, eyes darting from Hyunjin’s eyes, to his lips, back up to his eyes. He chases after your lips within the next minute, hand coming up to cup you by the neck; thumb caressing your cheek. At this point, you’re stuck to Hyunjin— lips seemingly not wanting to part from his. And you’re loving every bit of it so, so much. 
You’re loving every bit of it so much that you don’t even care when the elevator takes a stop, doors sliding open for the man who was patiently waiting on the other side. He eyes the both of you before keeping his distance, positioning himself closer to the doors while scrolling through his phone. Hyunjin lets out a soft sigh in between kisses, completely wrapped up in your scent, your touch— you.
You’ve barely met, but right now, it feels like the world is at a stop; like it’s just you and Hyunjin at this moment in time. You’ll never understand it.
“Fuck.” He whispers against your lips before moving near your ear. “You’re driving me crazy.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek before navigating back down to your lips. His other hand comes to your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze before his finger teases the edge of your dress— Hyunjin keeping the kiss alive with your hands still gripping at his sweater. His hand travels around to give your ass a quick squeeze before pressing you flush against him; to be close to him, to feel him.
And god, do you feel him.
He takes this moment to tug on your bottom lip, making you let out a sigh. The man who stepped into the elevator is now a long-gone thought, no longer caring about his presence or the fact that he’s a mere couple of steps away from you two. But finally, the elevator dings again and flashes a bright ‘10’ on the screen. Hyunjin quickly pulls away to check the current floor before slipping his hand into yours and leading the way out of the elevator. As soon as the doors close, the both of you erupt in a fit of giggles while leading the way down the hallway to your room. As you fiddle with your bag and try to fish for your hotel keycard, Hyunjin plants feathery kisses along your neck, down to your shoulder— his fingers still teasing the edge of your dress.
“Finally.” You pout, making Hyunjin laugh before placing another kiss near your jaw. As soon as you step inside the room, you toss your bag aside and wrap your arms around Hyunjin’s neck, legs around his waist. He carries you deeper into the room, setting you down on the edge of the bed to continue kissing you. In between kisses, he works his way with your boots; gently sliding the zipper down before tossing one boot off to the side, then the next.
“This dress.” He gently pushes you down on the bed before peppering kisses along your thighs. “So perfect on you.” He nibbles on your inner thighs, then soothes the surface with his lips. “Can’t believe no one was trying to snatch you up.”
“Maybe it’s just meant to be, hm?” You tease with a playful tone. Hyunjin pauses and looks at you, a smile teasing at the corner of his lips before he comes down and presses another sweet kiss to your lips.
“Maybe I’m just lucky after all.” You feel his hand fiddling with the edge of your dress again, slowly dipping further. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can totally—” A kiss. “Just hang out and talk more—” Another kiss. 
“Hanging out and talking more—” Kiss. “Sounds good to me.”
“Mhm.” He pulls away and looks at you, really looks at you, before brushing the hair away from your face. “I mean it. I don’t normally do things like this. I just— I don’t know.” He chuckles a bit. “I’ve been drawn to you since I walked into that bar.” It’s your turn to look at him, really look at him, and you do nothing but pull him back to your lips.
“Please keep going.” Is all you manage to say. Because you are also drawn to him, and you’ll never understand it.
But right now, you don’t want to try and understand it. You just want to take this moment for what it is, for everything that it is.
The intensity grows during the heated kiss, and Hyunjin is back to slotting himself in between your thighs, dress now pushed up.
“Can I?” He asks, and you nod— giving him full permission to remove your panties and toss them off to the side; feet propped up on the bed to give Hyunjin the best view. He doesn’t waste any time before he’s running his thumb down your slit, sliding two fingers in just to get a feel for you. He bites onto his bottom lip, reveling in the soft moans you’re letting out. “So wet for me.” He says before licking a stripe upwards, feeling your legs slightly jolt at the sensation. “Gonna take care of you.” He reassures you by running a hand up your thigh and gently squeezing it. He laps at your folds, sucking gently at the sensitive nub before repeating his motions and pumping his digits into you at a set pace. 
“My god.” You whimper, hands resting on Hyunjin’s head. A gasp falls from your slips when Hyunjin removes his fingers and spits on your pussy, tongue spreading your wetness all over. You continue to grind against his mouth, picking up the pace when you feel yourself reaching your peak. The way he was taking care of you was heaven sent; incredibly heaven sent that with just another roll or two, Hyunjin manages to push you over the edge. “Oh— yes!” You blurt out as you come undone, your entire body going limp while catching stars.
Hyunjin soothes you through small pecks on your thighs, through gentle squeezes of the hips. He stands and hovers over you, giving you a taste of yourself when he leans in for a kiss— holding the kiss there momentarily. When you part, he watches as you take his hand, tongue circling around the two fingers that were just inside of you. He swears he almost loses himself at that moment, but he manages to keep himself together. Hyunjin moves you up on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable in between the tiny kisses he plants all over your body.
Chest.
Hands, fingers.
Collarbone, neck.
Lips.
He’s stripping you of your dress, just as you help him out of his sweater, his slacks. His eyes widen when he pops off your strapless bra, letting out a shaky breath before taking a nipple into his mouth— tongue working in circular motions and pulling back with a pop. You arch your back slightly and let out a moan, Hyunjin taking this opportunity to move onto the next bud and repeating the motion on it. You tease at the waistband of his boxers before he wrestles himself out of them; dick painfully hard and springing free. He lets out a moan when he feels your hand wrap around his member, pumping him a few times and watching the pre-cum leak from his tip.
“Need you.” He breathily moans. “Need you now, pretty.”
“Here.” You pause, grabbing the single condom from your bag on the nightstand. Hyunjin leans back on his ankles, laughing at the box you’ve handed over.
“So, why do you have this?” He smirks as he rips the condom open and begins to slide it down his length.
“Quit. My bestfriend shoved it in my bag as a ‘just in case.’”
“Tell them I said thank you.” You giggle.
“Shut up.” Hyunjin bites his lip before diving in for another kiss. Even as he breaks the kiss, his lips continue to graze yours as he lines himself up at your entrance— eyes glued to yours as he slips himself in slowly. He watches your eyes roll back and shut close, back arching; a silent moan leaving your lips. He continues to push, and push, until he bottoms out and lets out a shaky breath; giving himself a moment to adjust and keep his composure.
God, you feel good around him.
“Fuuuuck.” He moans. “Feels too good. So perfect.” He begins to slowly pick up the pace, hearing your slickness make those noises beneath him that drive him insane. You grip onto his chiseled biceps, pretty white polished nails digging into the surface of his skin. At this point, Hyunjin has found the perfect rhythm— sinking into you every thrust, feeling every inch, every delicate point that he can touch. 
Deeply.
“Hyunjin, god. Please.” You whine and beg continuously, calling his name as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. The only sounds in the room are the sounds of skin against skin, wet kisses being exchanged in between and your names bouncing off of the walls.
“I got you.” Hyunjin feels you squeezing him, and it’s taking everything within him not to burst. He takes a hand to your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze, watching your tits bounce with every thrust he gives.
And he gives it all. 
He sits back for a moment when he sees you starting to move your hips and ride against his movements. Another moan slips from his lips when he watches you roll your hips and work him from beneath, hissing when you speed it up. 
“Such a good girl.” He says. Your moans become a little sharper, a little louder, Hyunjin now taking his thumb to your clit to relieve some of the tension. You begin to whimper, your nails digging a little deeper, and Hyunjin can feel your walls starting to cave. He continues his work on your clit before he's back to fucking you senselessly into the mattress. 
“Right there— Hyunjin—” Your words are broken as you try to chase your high. “Close—” 
“That’s it, pretty.” He says, praising you and egging you to tip over the edge. It takes a few more before Hyunjin sees your face contort in pleasure, back arching just as you tremble underneath him. “Shit, that’s it.” He repeats, feeling your walls pulse against him. He feels himself getting close to his own climax, so he quickly pulls out and has you flip over— face down, ass up. He wastes no time slipping himself back in, continuing at the pace he was just at even though you were still trying to recover from your last orgasm. Though a bit sensitive, the pleasure rebuilds quickly, and you’re back to begging Hyunjin to go harder.
Faster.
Which, he gladly does. He gives your ass a good smack, leaving his print while letting out a groan and gripping your hips. He calls your name, praising you for how good you’ve been to him tonight and how lucky he is. 
“Y/N, fuck— gonna cum.” He breathes out, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he feels his coil threatening to snap. Sooner or later, a beautiful, melodic moan slips from his lips, his hands digging crescents into your hips as he falls onto you and fills up the condom. “You okay, pretty?” He presses a soft kiss on your back, your right shoulder.
“Mhm.” He removes himself from you, the both of you letting out soft sighs at the feeling. Hyunjin tosses the condom in the trash before racing off to the bathroom.
“Let me get you cleaned up.” He says as he grabs for one of your wipes sitting in the bathroom, cleaning you up before himself. You shyly head to the bathroom to finish up and change into something more comfortable— slipping into the covers while Hyunjin throws on his boxers. You’re not really sure what’s next, and to be honest, you’re a little unsure of how to navigate this whole one-night-stand thing.
Because of course you’ll have to. You leave tomorrow. This is the first and last time you’ll see Hyunjin.
It makes you a bit sad, for whatever reason.
“I-I hope you know you aren’t obligated to stay, I know you must wanna go back to your room—” He laughs a bit and turns to you.
“How about I stay until you fall asleep, hm? That sound okay with you?” Yes, yes it does. You want him here, and you want to cherish every last bit of this tender, intimate moment that you’ve shared with someone you connected with hours ago.
“Okay.” He slips himself in, comfortable in his boxer briefs and nothing else. You find this to be the cherry on top; the way Hyunjin pulls you in and allows you to lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat beneath you, the way he lazily throws an arm over you but keeps you close, the way that he just lets you be.
Hyunjin is connected to you. He is drawn to you.
The combination of the alcohol and exhaustion is now pushing you to fall asleep quickly in Hyunjin’s arms. He manages to close his eyes, afraid to move you or wake you— wanting you to get the best sleep possible before your flight tomorrow. You’ll never understand this. But tonight, you won’t try to. Because you’ll take this for what it is, for everything that it is.
You are connected to Hyunjin. You are drawn to him.
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Hyunjin wakes up and finds your side of the bed cold, empty. Which tugs a bit on his heart, but he knew this is what it would come to— being it was your last night, and the two of you lived on opposite ends of the world. He honestly didn’t mean to stay last night, but he couldn’t help himself after seeing how peacefully you were sleeping. He’s not sure he understands it well enough, but he still feels drawn to you; even now, as you board your plane and take your seat in business class. He finds a tiny note on the nightstand with your name and number, and he smiles to himself— making sure to keep the note safe.
Hyunjin keeps the note safe for awhile. Safe to the point where he doesn’t do much with it besides look at the number every now and then before tucking it back into his wallet. He can’t find the courage to text you, call you, because he’s not sure what is left of you two after that night. What would he do from Seoul? What would you do from California?
It’s unfortunate, and Hyunjin really hates it. He’s not sure when he’ll use this. And of course, over time, you’ve wondered what you did, or why Hyunjin didn’t make use of your number. Though, part of you understood where he was coming from. So, you eventually learn to let it be.
Maybe there wasn’t a use for it, for all of this. 
Maybe it was supposed to be a one-night thing, a memorable, one-night thing. A one-night thing that you keep for the memories, a one-night thing that you keep close to your heart– Hyunjin.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Hyunjin keeps the note safe for a while. Safe to the point where he doesn’t do much with it besides look at the number every now and then before tucking it back into his wallet.
Until months later, Hyunjin finds himself thinking about your note just as he steps onto the concrete floor and takes in the fresh air—
Eyes shifting to the California sunrise ahead of him.
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—perm taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @asjkdk
540 notes · View notes
cher-rei · 2 months
Note
gavi long distance + secret relationship smau??? if you do end up writing this can you please tag me
in between— pablo gavi smau [ P.G ]
pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader
masterlist
notes: this one actually broke me a little, like it wasn't even that deep so why am I sad for them😭😭💔 @weekendlusting (translated spanish!!)
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isa.bella
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liked by pablogavi and 678 876 others
isa.bella cerca de allí... ✈️💌 (nearly there...)
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user you're so pretttyyy I'm going insane
user travel vlog time!! it's been a hot minute
bsf.name ¿adónde esta vez? 😉 (where to this time?) [liked by isa.bella]
→ isa.bella ¿¿dónde más?? (where else?)
user are we collectively going to ignore gavi in her likes...? [liked by isa.bella]
isa.bella
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liked by pedri and 762 123 others
isa.bella hogar📍 (home)
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user ahhh she's back in barcelona !!
pedri mucho tiempo sin verte😊 (long time no see) [liked by isa.bella]
→ isa.bella estoy muy feliz de estar de vuelta hermano (I'm so happy to be back bro)
pablogavi me encantan las flores🌷 (I love the flowers) [liked by isa.bella]
→ isa.bella gracias, mi novio me lo consiguió. (thanks, my boyfriend got them for me)
pablogavi
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liked by ferminlopez and 987 182 122 others
pablogavi mi lugar favorito 💕 (my favourite place)
see all comments below
ferminlopez ¿te perdiste la noche de juegos por esto? (you missed game night for this?)
→ pablogavi cualquier día (anyday)
user bro has the whole of twitter trying to figure out who this is??
user shut up gavi said it's his cousin😭😭
user we're about to pull up like the fbi. I need anything at this rate
isa.bella
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liked by bsf.name and 563 122 others
isa.bella noche de cita 🍿🌙 (date night)
see all comments below
user you have a boyfriend??
user guys she's wifed up, what do we do😭
user I wanted to say that he looks kinda familiar but I'm probably tripping due to the shock
user if you need me I'll be getting my P.I on this
→ user I'll be waiting for the twitter thread
pablogavi
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liked by ferrantorres and 986 299 224 others
see all comments below
pablogavi 🤍
ferrantorres disfrútalo mientras dure hermano 😂 (enjoy it while it lasts bro)
→ pablogavi por favor no me lo recuerdes 😭 (please don't remind me)
pedri ahora vas a estar deprimido por los próximos 5 meses. de nuevo. (now you're going to be depressed for the next 5 months. again.) [liked by pablogavi]
user oh yeah this is so his cousin
user I bet my right kidney that it's @isa.bella
→ user wait... that actually makes sense
→ user guys it's just his cousin pleaaseeee. this boy does not have the time for relationships
user where's the twitter thread girl??
isa.bella
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liked by bsf.name and 568 297 988 others
isa.bella me acaban de recordar que me iré pronto. voy a vomitar (just got reminded that i'm leaving soon. i'm going to throw up)
user hold up 😃
user didn't ferran say something about gavi having to enjoy his last few days???
→ user bro I'm gonna fjdjdjdj
user ain't no way. I don't believe it
user the twitter thread is being made!! my P.I is working overtime
isa.bella
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liked by bsf.name and 766 976 976 others
isa.bella vale, se acabó la broma, quiero recuperar a mi novio. 😃💔 (okay the joke's over, I want my boyfriend back.)
bsf.name solo 5 meses más nena 😫 (just 5 more months babe)
→ isa.bella déjame en paz estoy de duelo 🥲 (leave me alone, im grieving)
user nooooo my favourite couple
user I've been so invested in this relationship the past few weeks. my heart is actually breaking rn 😭💔
user not the long distance relationship 😭
user someone check gavi's insta!!!
pablogavi
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liked by pedri and 873 828 282 others
pablogavi hora de reiniciar la cuenta regresiva 🥲 (time to restart the countdown)
user shut up the screenshot of their text!! I'm crying I can't do this
user me and who...?
pedri al menos esto te motiva a jugar bien 😭 (at least this gives you motivation to play well) [liked by pablogavi]
user the twitter thread is up!!
user bro beat the cousin allegations
216 notes · View notes
fayes-fics · 4 months
Text
When The World Is Free: Chapter 4 - Le Rideau Tombe Avant La Fin
MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.
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Warnings: none.
Word Count: 2.6k
Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is reader and Eloise's farewell to Paris. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!
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Paris, September 1939
The next three days are a blur, fleeting but at once memorable, lived on borrowed time. 
Knowing the inevitable is happening - that you will need to leave Paris soon - you give notice at work; so sad to have only been there for a matter of weeks rather than the planned months. On a brighter note, however, you are able to spend the days with Benedict, showing him all you have learned about art in the city in the short time you have had. Many a happy hour is spent in galleries. Both of you tripping over your words to share what you know about the art and the artists in a breathless, excited fashion. Kindred spirits in your appreciation of the works. Sometimes lost in a reverie as you stand in front of a canvas as large as your entire living room, the scale and complexity literally dumbfounding. 
And, of course, a little of your heart is stolen with each moment together - the first person you have ever met who truly seems as enthused as you about the subject matter. That it's all wrapped up in that handsome face adds more complexity and confusion. You can't deny the skip in your pulse when he looks at you, weighted, a touch of reverence, so focused as you speak passionately on the subject you love. And you are certain your face is a picture of devotion as he waxes lyrical, too. You know you are getting swept up into the almost cliched romance of it all - the city of love, a handsome stranger, the no doubt impending invasion giving a sense of urgency and finality to every hour- it's a powder keg that feels dangerous as it is intoxicating. 
Early evening of the second day, as you wander back from the Louvre, you pass by the offices of the cruise company you came from America with. 
“Oh! I should speak to them about swapping my return ticket,” you comment, seeing the men standing outside in the smart red livery of the company, speaking in English to crowds of people inquiring about escaping France.
“See if you can move it to the day after tomorrow,” Benedict counsels. “That is the day we are due to set sail. We can all go to the coast together on the train.”
“That would be nice,” you admit, realising it will be lovely to have someone to wave farewell to, even if there is a little stab in your chest at the idea you may never see Benedict again. Or, of course, darling Eloise.
So, a couple of hours later, after an early dinner, you are back on this same street, your ticket in hand, waiting patiently to speak to one of the young men in uniform. 
“Mademoiselle?” he beckons you forward.
“Good evening. I have a ticket to New York for eleven months, hence, 12th August 1940. I am hoping I can swap to a sailing in a few days? Ideally, the day after tomorrow?”
The men exchange glances, and there seems to be a swirl of excitement as they crowd around you.
“A real ticket?” one of them pipes up, an excitement in their tone which strikes you as rather odd.
With a nod, you hand it over, and they all seem to confer, then grab a pad of tickets and transfer some details. 
“Not a problem at all, Mademoiselle. Here, this is for a sailing two days hence. Thank you for travelling with us!”
They seem inordinately pleased as you walk away clutching your new ticket, a mix of emotions swirling. The finality of your time in Paris suddenly so real, the date on the newly issued ticket, ink still drying, sinking in.
When you push open the door to your apartment, still with a tinge of melancholy, you are taken aback by the whirlwind you encounter.
“How did I amass this many mugs?” Eloise decries, standing amidst a complete bomb of possessions scattered all over the surfaces of your apartment.
“Well, you can't take them all home,’ Benedict points out wearily, “you have your case, and that trunk there, Eloise, and that is all.”
Eloise rolls her eyes. “Well aware of that brother…” holding a blue and red mug in each hand, assessing which she likes more.
“I suppose I'm lucky I've only been here a matter of weeks,” you pipe up as they both turn to look at you, Benedict shooting you a lopsided grin as Eloise barges forward and loops your arm in hers, dragging you across the room.
“Just the person I need!” she declares. “Help me! What mug screams, ‘I had a life in Paris once, and it was amazing’?” She gestures to the array of drinking vessels she has pulled out to the cupboard.
You ponder the question with a thoughtful pout. “Why not just leave them all for the next tenant? I'm sure Solene would appreciate the ability to rent out the apartment with kitchen supplies?” you try to be diplomatic.
“Yes, I know that,” Eloise sighs, “there were mugs when I got here. That, of course, got mysteriously broken after a few days, which is a blessing as they were all hideous…”
“You broke some perfectly good mugs?” Benedict frowns disapprovingly.
“Do you live here?” she shoots back pointedly, raising an eyebrow, “I am only seeking the counsel of those who live here… not a squatter,” she sniffs.
You share a look with Benedict -  yours contrite, his bemused - as if this is just another day with Eloise. Which, to be fair, it sort of is.
“If I had to choose one…” you point to the cherry red earthenware mug that looks French in a way you can’t quantify; it just does.
“You’re right as always,” Eloise grins, seizing it. “Much better help than that one,” she adds, sticking her tongue out at Benedict as she wraps the chosen item in yesterday's newspaper.
“Packing going well?” you breeze, your eye again meeting Benedict’s as he pulls a face that makes you giggle hard.
“You try cramming nine months of freedom into a teeny trunk,” Eloise grumbles, heading towards her bedroom.
“I am just taking my clothes…” you admit. You only have a few additional items you purchased since you arrived in Paris that should all fit if you pack smart enough.
“That’s yours, by the way…” Eloise gestures to Benedict’s painting on the wall before she disappears out of sight. “I have no room for it, and it seems strange to carry a picture of a house I'm headed to…” she calls out down the corridor.
“I would love it…” you inhale, looking at the artist imploringly as if somehow you need his permission.
“Y-you want it?” Hesitant, disbelieving almost. 
“If you will permit me,” you confess, clasping a hand over your heart.
“It is yours,” he replies, his face a mixture of pleasant surprise and humble acceptance.
You rush forward and take the painting off the wall, reverentially cradling it between your hands. 
“Thank you, Benedict,” you sigh, a little fizz in your stomach at the idea he wants you to have it. Like you will always have a piece of him with you once you are apart.
“I can paint you others...” he offers quickly, in a rush of exhaled breath. “Whatever you want…”
Something in the tumbling sincerity of his words has your heart beating fast.
“I can think of nothing more appealing than a wall full of your works…” you confess while trying not to think that room would be thousands of miles away.
He blushes adorably, casting his eyes down until suddenly, his head jerks up again. “Wait I…I have something I want to give you, actually,” He scurries across the room and gathers a sketchbook. “I'm sorry it's not framed, but here…”
He carefully tears out the page from his pad. And your heart stops.
It's you from two days ago. Sitting on a bench overlooking the Seine, the Eiffel Tower over your shoulder as you read a book. You wondered what he was doing sitting a few feet away that day as you took a lunch break. Now you know. It's a perfect pencil rendering of the scene, each sketched line a wondrous recreation of that sun-soaked afternoon.
“Benedict….” all other words fail. 
“I want you to have it,” he murmurs, “your time in Paris may have been unexpectedly brief, but you deserve a memento of the happiness you found here, however fleeting it had to be.”
Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes; you want to rush to him, to throw your arms around him, thank him profusely, but you are scared to. Scared that in the moment you would get carried away, press your lips to his…
“Thank you...” is all you can struggle out, inadequate and awkward.  
“De rein…” Again, that perfect accent has you practically swaying
But the spell is broken when Eloise reappears, complaining loudly about the size of her trunk, and part of you is grateful for it. Guilt floods your being as you think how bad of a person you must be to covet your best friend’s brother when you have a fiance back home. One you will, in fact, likely see in a matter of days now… tamping down that disquiet, you excuse yourself to your room, placing your ticket on the mantel and refusing to look at it as you pick up a book to read.
Solene’s hug is so tight you feel like she is crushing your ribs. Or perhaps it's that you feel a little too fragile today.
“I shall miss you, ma cherie,” she mumbles into your hair before pulling back and seizing your jaw. “You will come back when this is all over, oui?”
“Oui,” you agree, knowing it’s more of a wish than a promise.
Once again, she pulls you in for a tight hug before turning to Eloise and clinging to her just the same, lingering longer.
“Souviens-toi, ma sœur,” she reminds Eloise, having told you the previous night that her sister lives just outside the port city of Le Havre should you need a place to stay for any reason.
It's two days later, the day of your departure, and your eyes ping around the now-tidy apartment, only furniture left where once there was a jumble of life. It looks much less like home, making handing over your key a little less painful. One final wistful glance at the Eiffel Tower out of the window is all you can manage before picking up your case and walking out, scared to look back.
Benedict is loitering in the corridor outside and shoots you a sympathetic glance as you exit, eyes glassy.
“You will return,” he offers solemnly, even as you both know it's just a platitude, before turning his attention to the apartment door. “Hurry up, Eloise, we need to get to the train…” he calls.
You start to move towards the sweeping staircase, preferring a long amble down its winding loop than the lift, your case feeling much heavier than when you arrived mere weeks ago…
You watch the puffs of steam float past the window as the train picks up pace, pulling out of Gare Saint-Lazare. Perhaps aptly, it begins raining soon after, streaks of water lashing the glass as you rest your head back into the seat.
“I can't bear to look at it,” Eloise sighs, closing her eyes so as not to see Paris slipping away.
You reach over the table between you and grasp her hand, and her eyes open to give you a nod of thanks before closing again. 
“Why do you have to be American?” she whines. “I would do anything to have you come to England. We could get a little place together in London…” She winds her feet around yours like a vine, needing the connection in your last few hours together.
“If only…” you agree, a weight akin to a heavy boulder settling in your stomach at the idea you will soon be back on Long Island, a world that seems so…. staid to you now.
Benedict shoots you a sympathetic look across from his seat next to Eloise on the aisle but says nothing, going back to reading his book as it's your turn to sigh, the city now a blur outside the window as you speed towards the end of your time in France.
Half an hour later, Eloise is sleeping, her head lolling lightly on the glass with the gentle rocking motion of the train, now following the meander of the Seine just outside Poissy.
“She didn't sleep well last night,” Benedict observes, looking up from his book and following your line of sight. “I don't think she wanted her last night in Paris to ever end.”.
His words take you back to just hours ago, a rousing evening in your favourite local bistro filled with wine, camaraderie and song. Benedict didn't accompany you and Eloise, preferring to stay home and read, he said, but part of you wishes he was there to help commiserate and toast your final night chez Paris.
“You should have come out,” you opine with a slight pout, which makes him chuckle.
“It's not me who had to have the fitting farewell,” he points out with a sympathetic smile.
“Still, it would have been nice if you were there…” The idle thought is out of your lips before you can think about how that might sound, and you know you are blushing when his mouth opens a fraction in surprise, a dot of colour on his cheeks, too.
“I'm sure you still had a wonderful time,” he placates demurely.
You smile and nod, feeling a little twinge in your ankle from all the dancing you have done.
“Are you excited?” he asks, changing the subject.
You frown. “Why would I be excited to leave Paris?”
To be reunited with your fiance?” he answers slowly, a look of puzzlement on his face that it had not occurred to you.
“Oh…” you pause, your mind recalling Stanley’s smile, although somehow it seems faded now, like an out-of-focus photograph, as if you cannot wholly remember it now.  “I… I suppose…”
His face is a picture of concern again. “You do not sound certain…” he hedges.
“I am not, to be honest,” you sigh for what seems like the hundredth time today. “These few weeks have… shown me so much of the world,” you explain, “I have had so many novel experiences, met so many wonderful new people…” you can't help but let your gaze meet his as you say it. “It makes my life before seem… small? Parochial?” you are clutching for the right words as his hazy eyes track your every facial move.
“Like an old shoe that used to be comfortable but now suddenly feels too tight?” he offers a metaphor that is so apt you can't help but nod.
“Exactly!’ you agree, enthusiastically waving your hand. 
There is a quiet moment where your eyes meet again, a tingle over your skin, a pulse of energy so enlivening.
“Do you feel there is perhaps something out there better for you?” his ask feels loaded, a quiet murmur that carries so much hidden meaning but is nearly lost in the rhythmic sound of the train clattering over the tracks. So much so you could likely pretend you didn't hear, but you don't. 
“I just might…” you answer softly, even as you are unable to look away. Something about this man makes you daring, unwilling to do anything but be bold.
Long, elegant fingers reach out over the table and are about to brush the back of your hand when Eloise suddenly startles awake between you. His hand disappears rapidly, pulling back as if burned. All you can concentrate on is the ashy taste of regret at your best friend’s timing.
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Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa
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173 notes · View notes
gretavanlace · 5 months
Text
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Sugar II (part 7)
Jake Kiszka x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, angst, cheating, choking (barely, and only if you squint) fingering, etc
Hello lovelies! I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season and a very merry Christmas (if you celebrate). So sorry for the wait, but I trust you’ll understand…things get so crazy this time of year! Please excuse any mistakes you find, I did some under the weather editing. Xoxo love you all ❤️
True to his word, he was knocking at your metaphorical door the second their brief intermission allowed, and now you find yourself trudging along beside him through a nearly deserted parking lot outside the town cinema that is conveniently attached to the mall.
The mall sees little action these days as it is - throw in the fact that it’s early afternoon smack dab in the middle of the week and you’ve got yourself a recipe for isolation.
Which was exactly the plan all along. It’s a small town, and questions are the last thing you need.
When he’d pulled up in his rental, some luxury sedan with sleek black paint and deeply tinted windows, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you. How out of place he looked…he would’ve seemed more at home on a tricycle.
Now, after a hug that felt too intimate in the unforgiving glare of the sun, he holds the door open for you, ushering you inside, ever the gentleman, when his phone begins to hum in his pocket.
“Here,” a credit card, black and heavier than standard plastic, slips into your palm as he nods towards the popcorn and candy, “Go wear it out.”
“Trying to get rid of me, Kiszka?” You tease, leaning in conspiratorially, “Am I your dirty little secret?”
With a roll of his eyes, he shuts you down. “Dirty? Yes. Secret? Not so much.”
He tilts his phone to display Josh’s name trilling across the screen. “You’re welcome to say hello, if you’d like. But I honestly detest the thought of sharing you right now. Sounds torturous.”
Your eyes travel over him like he’s a fucking meal. Linen pants cuffed lazily at the ankles to display scuffed and worn boots. Light blue button up, barely buttoned and hardly hiding the softness of his stomach, which you long to gnash your teeth into. Coins and medallions clink about against his chest, locks curling like ribbons along the shoulders of his midnight onyx blazer…no, on this you two can agree, you’d rather not share him either.
“Don’t let him talk so long that I have to miss you.” You smile with a wink that sizzles the blood in his veins as he watches you make your way over to the concession stand.
In keeping with yet another promise, he stands beside you before the popcorn has even been buttered, ready to follow you into whichever darkened room you’ll be inhabiting together for the next couple of hours.
When you fold into your seats, you find yourselves utterly alone.
A half an hour in, and you’re deeply regretting your choice. Something more PG would have been a lifesaver. You should have opted for something animated, for christ’s sake.
Watching them twist through the sheets, his hands dipped into her waist as she rocks above him in the gorgeous, cinematic lighting would normally have no more than a minute effect on you…especially given how little you’ve paid attention to the actual plot.
But he’s so near. You can feel the warmth of his body heat. You can smell that woodsy hint that lilts through his aura, paired with the ghostly remnants of a cigarette he’d swear he never smoked. If you leaned in just a fraction of an inch, your lips could play against the corner of his jaw. And again, you’re alone, so alone, in the cool darkness of this deserted theater.
Watching them this way with him so close has your heart banging about in the cage of your chest like a bird, stunned and frightened. Intense. Inescapable.
It’s the middle of the afternoon. The sun is beating down upon smoldering asphalt just outside these walls, bathing this town, in which you’ve built a life, in blinding light. Outside, it’s just another Wednesday…but here, with him next to you, quiet and concentrating on the two strangers making love on screen, you could be a thousand miles away. An alternate reality where in which only you walk the earth - Jake’s hand in yours as he strolls along beside you.
“Care to share what you’re thinking so hard about?” His question hushes out, though there is no one else around to hear it, but his eyes remain fixed ahead.
“I’m not thinking about anything.” You bristle gently…he knows you far too well for it to ever feel fair.
“I am.” His head tilts towards yours, but still he watches on. “Would you like it if I shared, instead?”
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s rude to talk at the movies?” You tease, simply to avoid whatever you know to be coming, “You really are spending too much time with Josh.”
A thought seems to suddenly occur to him, flickering a nearly visible lightbulb above his head. “Do you ever miss the way it used to be? With Josh? Before I came along and fucked everything up?”
His hand, which has been linked loosely with yours since the lights went down, offers a tiny squeeze. A reassurance that whatever the truth is, it will be alright to say it.
“Never.” And that really is the honesty of it all. “I miss the way things were when it was the three of us sometimes…but I think that’s really only because I miss you. I miss him too. But so differently. And I miss Sam and Danny. I miss…” you fall silent, searching for words that won’t come, and finally settle upon, “everything.”
“You don’t have to.” He is still refusing to look at you, though your eyes are heating his cheek with the intensity of your gaze in the dark. “You don’t have to miss anything, anymore. You can come home, baby. You should come home. I want you to come home. I need you to—” his throat catches, and you watch his lips fold in against the vulnerability.
“I am home.” You argue, wishing you could take it back the second you’ve whispered it into existence.
“Why?” Finally, finally, he turns to catch your eye. “Because of him? I’m so sick of hearing about him it isn’t even funny. And not just because I’m jealous - which I most certainly fucking am - but because it’s such bullshit.”
Trying your hardest, you muster a bit of astonished annoyance, though you feel none of it “My life is bullshit?”
His response is matter of fact as he turns his attention back to the couple still feigning ecstasy before you “Yes, it is.”
“That’s real nice, Jake.” Now your irritation feels a bit more concrete. How dare he so nonchalantly sit here in the dark and try to poke holes in what you’ve cultivated in his absence? “What isn’t bullshit, then? Our pretend life that you choose to live inside? Or the one from years ago that you can’t let go of?”
Another squeeze of your hand comes tender and comforting, “I’ll let that slide because I know you don’t mean to be hurtful…and because I know you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” you pull away and begin to miss his touch instantly. “I just…I have a fucking life, Jacob. And you seem hell bent on ruining it.”
“Okay,” he nods, turning in to nudge your nose with his own. “Take me home then, Sugar. Parade me through your life. Introduce me to Mr. Wonderful. Show me where you sleep. Where you watch TV with him at night. Where you take your baths, floating in the bubbles until you’re pruny and half-drunk on wine. Show me your backyard. Show me the walls he fucks you up against while you don’t think of me. Show me where you hide away from him at night to whisper sweet things to me…and not so sweet things. Let me meet your cat.”
His mouth is so close to yours you can faintly taste his minty toothpaste, “I don’t have a cat.”
“Alright,” he grins, sly as a snake, cheeks sweeping against yours as they perk with his smile, warm and soft “then just take me home and show me your pussy.”
It’s crass and ridiculous, and you know he’s said it simply to make you laugh…it works.
~
“So this is it, huh?” He leans forward, peering at your house through the windshield as you coast into the driveway. “No porch. No garden. But I’m going to wager there’s a welcome mat.”
His eyes cut over to you, a wickedly adorable gleam dancing about in them, “There is, isn’t there? How fucking quaint.”
How does he remember that you hate welcome mats? That you find them to be untruthful somehow, because certainly not everyone is welcome…some who find themselves at your doorstep should just go away. And how has he guessed that you do, in fact, have one? That he brought one home not long after you moved in and you hadn’t had the heart to tell him to throw it out?
Once more, you’re reminded of Jake’s uncanny ability to peer inside your head, but you refuse to stoke the fires of his ego. “You promised to behave, Jacob.”
He pops his door open and climbs out with a lazy stretch, “Oh, c’mon pretty girl, don’t tell me you believed that.”
Hand slipping from the steering wheel, you steel yourself with a steadying breath. This was a bad idea. A horrible choice. A disaster gearing up to wreak havoc…but here you are, leading the way with Jake strolling along behind you, taking in the suburban elements of your neighborhood with his hands buried casually in his pockets.
He always looks as though he has nowhere to be and all day to get there. It’s calming. Soothing. Like the invisible hand of a beloved caretaker reminding you that there is time enough to breathe. No reason to rush, it says…that gentle air about him. I don’t mind waiting. Take your time.
As you fit your key into the deadbolt, he resumes his antics, “When will Mr. Wonderful return from sea? Is there a widow’s walk where we might watch for him together on this dreadful day of pining?”
Voice warbling and pitched low, he reaches up and tugs a lock of your hair, goading you like a drunken, English pirate.
“Shut up, Oliver, or I’ll go inside and lock the door behind me.” The hinges squeak open…no turning back now.
“No, you won’t.” He scoffs, laughing lightly at his own nonsense. “Seriously, do I get to size up the competition today?”
You welcome him in, slightly dizzy at the sight of him sauntering inside…you’ve imagined him here so many times. Longed for his penchant for filling up space, fat and full, with his greater than life presence.
He makes you feel small in the most wonderful way; you are bird cupped safe and sound in his palms as he holds you close to his chest, protecting you from the world.
And maybe you should tell him these things…the way he makes you feel. His eyes would turn soft, he might touch your face with his tender fingertips and sigh your name into the room like a wisp of a breeze.
But a glance at the mantel, and the framed picture perched there, sends a tiny rush of guilt surging through your veins and you shake the moment off and instead opt for a stern…
“No, you won’t be sizing anything up today, Jake,” you move about the room to keep his eyes on you rather than in the direction of the mantel. “I’m not sadistic enough to subject him to your gleeful nastiness.”
He laughs like he’s never loved anything more, tipping his head back to expose his gorgeous throat…you yearn to bite it. “Gleeful nastiness? Sugar, you wound me.”
Rather than stride across the room to sink your teeth into him, you cross your arms, disgruntled and annoyed. “You’d have way too much fun being an asshole, and he’d be far too nice to put you in your place.”
That darkens his eyes, and you almost regret it. Almost. “Put me in my place? Are you choosing sides, sweetheart? Because it sounds an awful lot like you are.”
“Maybe I am.”
He’s moving toward you now, and you should back away, you know you should. Instead, your feet shuffle forward.
“Pretend your heart lies with him all you want,” he sweeps his lips over the apple of your cheek, “but I know better, and so do you.”
“Kiss me.” You bite your lip against the plea a second too late.
Those warm eyes of his, like coffee stirred with a splash of cream, flick down at your mouth and back to meet your gaze, and then his answer comes simply and with finality, “No.”
“No?” You’re incredulous, and admittedly stung by his rejection.
“No.” He reiterates, stepping away from you as your hands drop uselessly from his shoulders to your sides. “Take me on the tour, pretty girl. Show me this wonderful life of yours. I simply cannot wait.”
~
The “tour” he was so eager for is winding down as you steer him down the hall hurriedly, hoping he’ll ignore the door that is cracked and streaming light into the hallway.
Of course, he doesn’t. “What’s the rush, baby?” He smiles, feigning confusion, “What prize hides behind this one? Is this your bedroom?”
Suddenly, there is no space left between your bodies, and his is radiating a possessive heat as he backs you up into the room, guiding you along with a sure and steady arm wrapped around your waist.
“Is this where Mr. Wonderful fucks my girl?”
“Jake,” you’re protesting, but your fingers have curled into his shirt, thumb toying with one of the buttons that has likely never known what it’s like to be fastened. “Stop talking about it.”
He tilts his head in mock confusion, “Why? You like sex, I like sex, let’s talk about it, yeah? Oh, this is it right here, isn’t it? Look at this great big beautiful bed. Did you make it yourself this morning? Are the sheets clean?”
His mouth is at your throat now, licking and sucking between his terrible taunting questions. “If I laid you down right now, would I smell you on them? Would I smell him?”
“Jake, shut up,” you snap, but you’re pulling his lips in closer, hands fisting loosely in his hair.
You expect him to toss you down on the bed. To crawl on top of you. To grab you. To fuck you. To own you on the bed in some misguided show of territorial dominance.
And you expect to let him.
You expect to fight to be on top so that his hair will rest upon your pillow…so tonight you might drift away into a peaceful slumber gifted by the scent of him blurring your senses.
Instead, you find yourself pressed up against the wall, “I won’t have you in that fucking bed, even though I could, if I felt so inclined. I can tell you want it.” He sizes you up while grinding his cock into you with a delicious rhythm that’s got your breath panting out in tiny puffs already. “You do, don’t you, baby? You want me to fuck you in that bed. You want me all over the sheets he sleeps in.”
You’re ashamed, so fucking ashamed…but it’s true.
He’ll go, and you’ll miss him so terribly, and in some sick and horrifically twisted way you want him to spill on to the sheets, to leave his fingerprints on every surface. To lick across the bathroom mirror. To use your hairbrush so that there might be a strand or two of his silken waves left behind. You want him to drink from the milk carton and lounge about on the furniture. To lose the remote between the couch cushions. To tilt all the pictures uneven with his careless touch. You want him everywhere…to leave behind tiny remnants of himself once he’s gone, little pieces to ease your aching heart.
“Tell me, sugar.” He fucks himself against you with quick rolls of his hips until you’re praying his name. “Tell me the truth, baby. Tell me where you want me to give you my cock. I’m so hard for you, sweetheart.”
“In our bed,” it’s a rush of desperation as you clutch at him, dragging him closer to you…but it still isn’t enough, you wish you could crawl inside him. “Fuck me in our bed. Make me cum in our bad. Make me say your name in our bed. Please, jakey, please,”
Ignoring your disgraceful display, he continues to rock into you, gasping into the crook of your neck while his breathless moans tickle their way into your ear, “Does he make you cum in that bed? Does he take care of your pretty cunt the way I do? Does he make you shake and beg for terrible things? Hmm? Are you a good girl for him in that bed? Look at it.”
You shake your head back and forth against the wall, thrusting wildly to meet him. He’s right, he’s so fucking hard.
His palm wraps around your throat, squeezing at the sides, directing your line of sight. “I said fucking look at it. I want your eyes on that bed when I make you cum. I’m gonna make it mine without laying a goddamn finger on it. My bed, and my girl with her pretty wet pussy that belongs to me.”
“Inside,” it’s a rasping, shaking plea, and it should embarrass you and cast your eyes downward in shame…but it doesn’t. You’ve always wanted him this badly, and he knows it as inherently as he remembers the walls of his childhood home. “I need you inside, need your cock.”
“That’s it, fuck doll…” there is a filthy smirk evident in his tone, though his face is once again buried against your neck, “Beg for my cock. Tell me how badly you need it. Ask real sweet, sugar…be my very good girl.”
Your bodies writhe together feverishly until you feel like you might catch fire and burn away into ashes that will singe against his tongue like scorching want “Please, Jakey…please. I think about you all the time. I can’t clear my head, it’s always so full of you. Fuck me, fuck me, please please please…”
A painfully ragged groan rumbles out of him as his mouth, eager and starved, sucks against your throat, “Not gonna fuck you here. Not in this room where you let him touch you, not in this house where you let him love you.”
“Outside,” your teeth clench around the word until your jaw is screaming as loudly as the ache between your legs. “Take me out back, fuck me there…”
At last, his face, so beautifully flushed and dew-kissed, emerges from the crook of your neck, “You want me to take you outside and slide you onto my cock all wet and pretty? Want to let your neighbors hear what a whore you are for me? Let them hear how wet I make your gorgeous cunt? Hmm? Let them hear you whine my fucking name?”
“I don’t care what they hear…” you’re nearly mewling with need, clawing at his shoulders, clutching at his shirt, nearing your end, but so desperate to run from it because you want so much more. You don’t want this to be over without him slipped inside you, hard and hot.
“Look at me.” The insistence in his tone leaves no room for argument and your eyes flutter open to lock in on his.
A breathy, “You’re so beautiful,” trips off your tongue - a reflex that couldn’t be helped if you tried. He’s an evil, diabolical doctor banging a tiny hammer just below your knee cap.
A slow, languid blink is the only indication he gives that he’s even heard you. “You know my face, sugar?”
It’s the most absurd question that has ever been asked of you. Of course you know his face. Sometimes, it seems like you know nothing but his face.
Those sleepy eyes, that seem to see more than anyone has ever seen, down the deep and winding halls within you. His plush lips, full and pink, cruelly perfect, with a Cupid’s bow to rival the angel’s even if you stacked them all together. Rounded tip of his nose, different now, but still constantly luring your kiss. His jaw, so strong at times, so soft at others, but always begging for your tongue to trail along its path…his brow, his eyelashes, the way locks of hair display it all like a gilded edged frame adorning a wall in some ancient, European museum.
Yes, you know his face. You will always know his face. He is true north on your compass. He is the only direction in which your heart will ever willingly travel.
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak even as your hips rock against him.
“Good girl,” he presses the softest kiss to your mouth, “I want your eyes on that bed when you cum, but I want my face in your heart, and my name on your pretty pink tongue. We’re gonna fucking erase him, aren’t we?”
Suddenly, you wonder who he means? Does he mean this new rival, who really isn’t his rival at all? Or does he mean Josh, even after all this time? Does he even know which? Do you?
“No, baby…” your voice is but a whimper, and it tugs a growl out of his lungs that makes you weaker still, “I don’t want to cum like this. I need you inside of me. Make me feel good, Jakey…make me whole.”
“Not here,” he shakes his head sternly and you shrink away from his scolding, head resting against the cool wall. “Never here. Not in this house. I hate this fucking house. I want to burn it down and salt the goddamn earth.”
“Give me more,” your fingers are tearing and pulling at him frantically. You need so much from him always, you need his everything.
“I’ll give you more,” his voice sounds feral, grinding and growling like sandpaper…like he is lost and stumbling along far away from himself, as he jerks you away from the wall and slams you up onto your vanity.
Tiny bottles and tubes tumble and spill to the floor, but rather than care, you reach back and blindly sweep the rest away to make room for whatever is about to happen.
“I’ll give you fucking more,” he bites into your throat as though he wants to swallow you down and carry you around inside him. “I’ll give you fucking anything if you’ll just let me. Let me, sugar…fuck, please baby.”
“Just…” you can’t finish your thought…can’t find your mental footing while vibrating with such desperation, so you don’t even try. Instead, you begin fumbling with his belt, but he shoves your hands away.
“I told you,” he grabs hold of your face, a firm yet shaking hand tight around your chin, “Not here. Stop.”
On your fingers march, fighting with leather and metal until his voice, soft and mournful now, guides you out of the haze, “Not here, sugar. Not here.”
Everything slows in a blink, as if fate has adjusted the playback speed, and you find yourself watching with bated, yet quieting breaths as he pops the button on your jeans and lowers the zipper, eyes on your face all the while.
He slips his fingers in slowly, carefully…you are precious and deserving of his care, and he wants you to have it.
“Lean back,” he soothes, the heel of his palm grinding softly against your clit, “Let me take care of my girl.”
You’re prepared to whine and barter, but he shakes his head the moment your lips part.
“Shh, settle down, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” free hand now petting at your face, he offers you the gentlest smile. “You’re so wet, sugar. So warm.”
“Jake,” you’re rocking up to meet him now, slipping into the breathtaking haze of bliss he saves just for you.
“What, pretty girl?” God, the way he’s speaking to you…each word dripping with adoration and awe. Drenched in lust. Positively soaked in love. “Does it feel good?”
“So good,” your eyes are drifting closed now as you wade deeper into the tepid pool of your Jakey. You want to stay forever, to sink into his swirling blue waters until you’re forced to suck him into your lungs and drown.
“Eyes open.” The demand is soft and delicate, like lace drawn across your flushed skin.
You recall his earlier instruction and cast your heated stare at the bed you share with a man you could never exist for the way you live and breathe for Jake, but he shakes his head, “I was wrong…I don’t want that. Look at me, sugar. Right here, look at me.”
How could you ever want to look at anything else? Your gaze locks with his, and in reward, he curls his searching fingers and drags a high pitched moan off the tip of your tongue.
“Good girl, baby…” he nods, dropping his forehead to meet yours “So pretty. Silky little pussy wrapped up snug and tight around me like she never wants me to leave.”
“Don’t,” you’re writhing and grabbing at him now, crawling closer and closer to the edge, “Don’t leave me, Jake.”
His hand trails down from your face to cover your heart, “Is that coming from here, too?”
Watching him like this, your chest feels like it could easily cave in…like it could crumple in on itself - a balled up scrap of cheap aluminum foil crushed inside a fist. He is a sonnet come to life. A haunting song, living and breathing, watching you like you are love incarnate.
Of course it’s coming from your heart. It’s coming from your soul…or perhaps from the soul the two of you sometimes seem to share.
“I don’t know why I keep fighting this,” strangely, tears are burning in your eyes as the white hot band of pleasure stretches tighter still in your belly, “You’re all I want. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted,”
Satisfied, the air sighs out of his lungs as his fingers crook just perfectly and unravel you with a jolt. It is such a lazy, undulating ribbon of pleasure, unwinding through your veins like slow heat as you gasp and hush his name.
“Just like that, baby,” he coaxes, sounding far away. “Nice and slow…just like that. Shh, I’m right here. I’ve got you, sugar, I’ve got you.”
Your eyes never stray from his, even when the intensity you find in them threatens to crack your chest wide open, and when you finally come down, that’s how you both stay for so long you can almost believe the rest of the world has fallen away.
When his fingers twitch and you shiver with overstimulation, it breaks the spell and he pulls back… reluctantly sliding slowly from the cashmere grip of your cunt, only to suck those two fingers into his mouth with a muted groan of content.
“Pack a bag, sugar…” his hands cup your cheeks, fingers slick against your face as his nose tips up to meet yours, “Or don’t. We’ll go shopping and I’ll buy you anything and everything you’ve ever needed. Whatever you want, pretty girl…it’s yours.”
“I—“ you can’t seem to think straight.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he’s teasing now, with a barely there smirk taunting his lips, “Let me steal you away and take you home where you belong. I’ll write pretty songs for you, and make love to you every morning until the sun is so envious of us it resents having to rise. Let me build you a house. Let me till a garden for my girl.”
At last, you find your voice, “I have to do this the right way, Jake. His heart deserves care. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I have to. I’m the bad guy, here.”
“No,” that soft, hidden away smile of his clutches at your heart. “I think I’m the bad guy here. I just can’t find a shit to give.”
~
You’ve righted your disheveled selves and are now attempting to right all the other wrongs, with you stretched out on the rug watching as Jake picks up the tiny bottles and jars that litter the floor, asking after each one…
“Highlighter? What the hell does this do? Are you a book report?” And “How many lip glosses do you even need, sugar? You only have two lips.”
…before carefully placing said product back on the vanity - when, way ahead of schedule, the garage door rumbles to life.
Your heart lurches painfully in your chest, but on his end, Jake’s eyes light up with menacing delight, “Well, what do you know, babe? It seems our dear captain has returned.”
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radiant-reid · 1 year
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Let It Snow
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Summary: Apparently, getting stuck in a cabin with Spencer isn't too bad
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)
Word Count: 1.0k
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"We're never going to get out of here by tomorrow." She complains, looking out the window where the snow is already probably half a foot high, and it's not forecasted to end any time soon.
Maybe the idea to use some of their remaining vacation time to retreat to a little cabin in the Vermont mountainside wasn't well thought out. Although it was almost Christmas break, apparently, it was too cold for serial killers to kill, so the BAU workload was light, and Hotch was more than willing to give them time off.
But the chance planes will be leaving, or even be able to land in DC if the cold snap had traveled south, is next to zero. By morning, they might be completely snowed in.
She turns back to look at her gorgeous boyfriend, who is snuggled under a blanket on the couch, tucked up like a burrito with a mug of tea on the table. "How are you not freaking out about this, Mr. Planner?"
"Doctor Planner." He jokes. "And I'm not freaking out because I like spending time with you here."
She smiles, stepping away from the window and to the couch where she sits next to him.
The inside of the cabin is cute yet luxurious, fitted with polished wood, a grand fireplace, and nice furniture. Most importantly, it's cozy, with one bedroom off the side of the open-planned kitchen and living room. The windows are impressive, floor-to-ceiling glass that shows the rows of pine trees covered in white snow. It's peaceful and quiet, and that's what they needed.
Spencer takes his arm out of the blanket and wraps it around her, pulling her closer. "I'm not worrying because, for once, I don't feel stressed." It's remarkable, really, since he's been stressed since he was five. "Who cares if we don't get home tomorrow or this week?" He asks rhetorically. "We've got food, power, a backup generator, and, this might be my bias, but good company."
She giggles, nuzzling further under his arm. "You're right."
"I always am." He reminds her. "Now get out of your coat and shoes, and come cuddle with me."
She obliges. It's warm enough with the fire on that she doesn't need anything more than sleep shorts and a hoodie of Spencer's. She hurries back to the couch where Spencer has set up snacks.
The news on the TV is on, a weather reporter talking about a snowstorm coming over the east coast. It's not good news. "Are you seeing this?" She asks Spencer, turning the volume up as she stands behind the couch to watch the show.
He nods, unphased as he pours more tea. "Let it snow, Y/n. Just let it snow." He instructs, taking the remote and turning the TV off.
Y/n huffs, sitting down next to him. He pulls her closer so they can both see out the wide windows at the settling sun and pink-painted sky.
"Don't you think it's so beautiful?" He asks. There's a soft wonder in his expression that's usually not there. She imagines it's what baby Spencer looked like opening his college textbooks at thirteen.
She places her fingers on his cheek while they both stare at the scenery. He hasn't shaved since they left, and it's a good look on him. "Not much snow growing up in Vegas, huh?" She asks.
"Maybe twice." He recalls, turning back to look at her. She leans forward to kiss him a couple of times, appreciating how warm he is to be around. "I don't mind it, though, because it makes me feel like a little kid now." He confesses. "Like I had encyclopedias when I was a kid and I still love learning facts, but it's not a novelty."
He could not be any cuter, all soft. It melts her heart completely. "You're adorable." She tells him, holding his cheek tighter when he tries to hide his blushing by turning away. "Stop. I'm your girlfriend, I'm allowed to say you're cute."
"Can we just lay here forever?" He wonders. "Stare at the bright stars, then watch the sun come up, see the snow falling all day, and look at the sunsets."
It does sound ideal. "We might need sleep, though." She reminds him.
Spencer's already thought of that. "We can do that here, too. I just want you to always be this close."
She leans forward to kiss him a few more times. "Sounds like a good plan." She agrees, pressing her cheek to his so they can both look out the window. "This is going to be my happy thought now." She admits. "You know when there's something horrific at work and you have to think of a good thing to balance it?"
Spencer can feel his happy thought changing as well. "What was it before?" He asks curiously.
"The first time you kissed me." She reveals.
He pulls back in shock. "God, really? That was horrible."
She shakes her head. Maybe he was sweating because of how nervous he was, and maybe his lips were only on hers for a short second and he had no idea what to do afterward, but it was them. "It was sweet."
"I'm just glad my Ph.Ds were a redeemable quality." He jokes.
She laughs with him. "Baby, everything about you is a redeemable quality, even though you don't have anything that needs to be redeemed."
"I really love you." He says softly.
"I really love you too." And she really doesn't hate unpredictable weather events anymore.
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leilakisakabiri · 11 months
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request: Hi can you do where the reader is wearing Gavis hoodie and she accidentally stains it and starts freaking out. Thank uuu and i love ur writing
I Got You (Gavi)
Summary: You need Gavi to come help you after you get yourself into a bad situation.
Warning(s): None
A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for your support! Requests are open. Currently working on The Promises We Keep Pt 2. Also, guys if I haven't done your request yet, don't worry, it probably means it's gonna be a long one.
Word Count: 3.1k+
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It was a Saturday night in Barcelona, and you were holed up in your room, feet tucked under you, a knitted blanket over your shoulders as you read over the words in front of you for the hundredth time.
While the city was alight with people getting drinks, dancing, and laughing, you silenced your phone, closed your blinds, and put your headphones on to quiet any outside noises. 
You had decided to stay in this weekend, caught up in writing an essay for your criminal law class that was worth 50% of your grade. Safe to say you did not take it lightly. You had been hunched over your computer for the last nine hours, brain numb and fingers aching as you had tried to come up with a thesis and strong argument for your essay. You had blocked out this weekend to finish the essay, letting everyone know ahead of time not to contact you unless it was an emergency, including Gavi. 
Gavi had been gone for the last couple of days, traveling around Europe for the last leg of La Liga, and he had been adamant about spending as much time with you as he could once he got back - before his summer schedule kicked off. However, that hope was quickly cut short when you informed him you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him at all this weekend due to you being stuck finishing your essay. 
Although he had tried to convince you to change your mind, bribing you with the idea of endless cuddles and then promising to be as silent as possible while you wrote when his first idea didn’t work, you relented, knowing that having him around would be a major distraction, one that you couldn’t afford. 
“I’m sorry Pablo I don’t think I can this weekend. What about Monday?” You asked hopefully. 
He sighed over the phone, his face pulling into a frown, “I can’t. We’re leaving Monday morning for France.”
You bit on your lip, feeling bad, “I’m sorry I just really need to focus this weekend.” 
He nodded, “I get it. It just sucks. I wanted to see you at least once before I’m gone again. But it’s fine – I’ll survive.” He replied dramatically. 
You grinned, “Well I’ll miss you Pablito.” 
“I already miss you.” 
The smile on your face only grew as your heart warmed at his words, “I’ll text you if anything changes. Have a great game, I’ll be watching.” 
He gave you a wink, “Damn gotta show off now that my girls watching.” 
You giggled at him, “Bye Pablo.” 
He mocked your tone playfully, “Bye Y/n.” 
That was last week, and now you were nose deep in your essay, textbooks scattered around you as you looked for possible quotes to strengthen your thesis. You had been so busy scanning the words on the page that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing non-stop next to you. 
Once you saw the glow of your phone screen curiosity got the better of you and you flipped it around seeing you had eight missed calls from your best friend. 
Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, it was almost two in the morning, she would for sure be at a club right now, happily dancing the night away with your friends, so why was she consistently calling you? 
The phone buzzed once again and this time you were quick to answer. 
“Hello, Gia, what’s going on?” 
Her voice was slurred on the other end, but you could sense the panic regardless, “Y/n? I don’t know where I am, I was with the others but then I went to the bathroom, and I then couldn’t find anyone anymore. And this guy won’t leave me alone-”
“Gia, where are you? I’ll come get you.” You cut off her rambling, already rushing to put on your shoes, essay long forgotten. 
She hiccupped, “I’m at Macarena. I’m sorry no one else answered.” 
“No, no problem at all. I’m coming right now, Gia. Don’t move. I’m glad you called.” You comforted her. 
The club was only a twenty-minute walk from your house, and seeing as you didn’t have a car or the time to wait for public transport, it was your best option. 
You cursed yourself for not answering sooner as you rushed to get your keys, grabbing a random hoodie on the way out. 
Although summer was beginning to creep into Barcelona, the nights were still chilly with cold winds rushing through the area. 
You sped through the streets, walking with purpose as you finally reached the club. You were severely underdressed for the club wearing a random hoodie and yoga pants. You saw the line for the club was still extremely long, wrapping around the corner and you knew you had no time to waste. 
You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, you were never one to break any rules or ask for any special favors, but now seemed like a good time to start. 
You walked up to the club bouncer, ignoring the nasty look the guy at the front of the queue was sending you, “Excuse me. I need to get in right away, my friend is inside alone, and I need to help her.” 
You heard the guy next to you scoff. 
The bouncer looked at you unimpressed. “Sorry sweetheart. You want to get to her, you have to wait in line.” 
You relented, “Sir please, just look at my outfit,” you said gesturing to yourself, “clearly, I’m not here to party, I just need to get my friend and leave. You can even come with me!” 
He gave you an apprehensive look, taking in your appearance, “I can’t leave my post.” 
You groaned, “Fine, then can someone else escort me? I can literally call her right now. She’s not in the right head space.” 
He squinted his eyes at you, “You look familiar.” 
It finally clicked. This is where you had gone with Gavi and his team, celebrating after they had won a final a few weeks ago. They had treated you like royalty, blocking off a whole section just for you, the club owner even making an appearance to congratulate the team.
You didn’t like to use the fact that you were dating a well-known athlete as a way to get special privileges but if it meant helping your friend then you would do it. 
“Yeah, I was in VIP a few weeks ago. I know the owner, so please let me in.”
“What’s his name?” 
You racked your brain trying to think of that night, “Santiago. It was Santiago!” You replied, finally remembering. 
The bouncer gave you a once over before he finally nodded begrudgingly, “Fine – but be quick.” 
You heard the other people in line begin to argue but you quickly thanked the bouncer, rushing inside, not wanting to wait long enough for him to change his mind. 
God bless Gavi.
The place was packed, bodies pressed together so closely that you had to squeeze in between heavily making out couples and groups of friends to make your way to the middle. The strobe lights were going crazy, changing every few seconds to the beat of the music. There was a DJ booth twenty feet above the crowd playing EDM Spanish music and the crowd was going insane, chanting along. 
You hit your head on your forehead as you realized you forgot to ask her where she was. 
You pulled out your phone, letting out a breath of relief when she answered, “I’m here Gia. Where are you?” 
“I’m at- I said no, stop, I’m at the bar.” She huffed. You felt your anxiety rise, who was she talking to? 
“Ok, I’m coming.” 
You pushed through the throngs of people, finally spotting the bar, seeing her leaning against the counter, hands flying as she argued with someone. 
You walked towards them hearing the tail end of their conversation, a bad feeling in your stomach.
“Gia!” You yelled, coming to stand next to her. 
She gave you a relieved look, falling into you, the effort of standing up being too much. 
You caught her, hugging her back. 
“Oh wow – two for one. I got a buddy that would love you.” 
You steadied Gia looking up to see the guy she was talking with giving you a smirk. 
You held his gaze, annoyed, “No thanks. We’re leaving now.” 
You went to turn but he caught your wrist pulling you back, the drink in his hand sloshing,
“Woah, don’t go yet, the fun’s just getting started. Look my buddies are in VIP we can hook you up.” 
You yanked your hand away, giving him a disgusted look, “First don’t touch me. Second, we’re leaving.” 
“You’re not leaving.” He persisted. 
You raised an eyebrow, “Fucking watch me.” 
He reached for you again, but you were prepared, grabbing his hand, and flinging it off you, as you weaved into the crowd, ignoring his shouts. 
You let out a breath as you stepped outside of the club, grateful for the cold air after sweating through your hoodie in the packed club. 
You adjusted your hold on Gia, holding her waist as you started the trek back to your apartment. 
She stumbled over her steps as you walked, giggling, “Oh my god Y/n your bleeding!” 
You gave her a confused look, dragging her, “What?” 
She giggled again, reaching for your hoodie, “It’s coming from your stomach, look it’s red!” She pointed at your shirt. 
You looked down and you stopped in your tracks, breath hitching as you began to panic, “Oh shit Gia I’m wearing Gavi’s hoodie!” 
She stopped as well, letting go of you as she plopped onto the ground, staring up at you,
“So?” 
“So? He’s going to be so mad at me. That dick spilled his drink on me. This is a white hoodie – who knows if it will come out?” You stressed.
“It’s-" she hiccupped, “fine.” 
You shook your head, “No It’s not it’s his favorite hoodie, I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. Fuck, I have to clean as soon as we get home.” 
You started walking before you realized she wasn’t following you. 
“Gia?” 
You turned around to see her slumped against the sidewalk, eyes closed. 
You rushed to her side, shaking her, “Gia? Gia, are you okay?” 
She hummed, “I don’t feel so good.” 
“Can you walk? We’re almost halfway there.” You asked, helping her sit up so she was leaning against you. 
She groaned, “I’m going to throw up.” 
You looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. You had left the main strip of clubs and restaurants, and were now on a back road, walking in an area that was dimly lit and that you weren’t too familiar with. 
“I can call an Uber.” 
You reached into your pocket, cursing yourself as you realized you had forgotten your wallet in the rush to get to the club. 
“Shit, I don’t have my wallet. Do you have yours?” 
“Antonio.” She groaned, leaning her head against your shoulder. 
You let out a huff, contemplating what to do. You attempted to get her to stand up once again, desperate to get out of the area, but she couldn’t stand, and you weren’t strong enough to carry her the rest of the way. You chewed on your lip debating a solution, but you didn’t want to do it unless it was the absolute, last, last resort. 
You spent the next five minutes calling all your friends, but no one answered. You groaned, frustrated, knowing you had run out of options. 
You heard your friend beginning to doze off and you shook her, “Gia stay awake.” 
She moaned, “Y/n I really don’t feel good. I don’t know what’s wrong.” 
Your finger hovered over the contact, and you finally pressed it, feeling the guilt build inside. 
It rang seven times before going to voicemail. You called back. 
On the third ring, the line finally connected, 
“Y/n? Why are you calling me so late?” Gavi’s voice was thick with sleep, his words murmured. 
Hearing his voice sent a pang of relief through you, and suddenly you didn’t feel so alone,
“Gavi I’m sorry. I really need your help.” 
He was up in an instant, wide awake, “What’s wrong?” 
“I’m stuck in the middle of the road with Gia. She got drunk and I went to get her but now I’m worried there’s something wrong. She can’t get up and we’re all alone. I don’t have any money. I called our friends, but no one answered, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You rushed out. 
You heard his breath accelerate on the other end of the line, “Ok don’t worry baby I’m coming. Send me your address, everything’s going to be okay. Just stay on the phone with me.” He reassured you. 
You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “Thank you so much Gavi.”
You heard his car door open, “Anytime. If anything happens like this again you call me first, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
You stayed on the phone with him, rubbing Gia’s shoulder to comfort her, readjusting her whenever she began to doze off. 
Finally, you saw a familiar car pull onto the street, and you waved your hands, trying to get him to see you. 
The car made a quick turn and then Gavi was rushing out, a worried look on his face, 
“Oh thank god you’re okay. I was so worried.” 
“I’m so sorry for waking you. Thank you for coming.” 
“Y/n stop apologizing.” He said, helping you carry Gia to the car. 
Upon feeling that she was being lifted, her eyes shot open, “Y/n what’s going on?”
She glanced over to her left seeing Gavi before she turned to look at you, it took two seconds for her eyes to widen and then she was whipping her head back, “Gavi? The hell y-you doing here?” 
You giggled at her abruptness, “I had to call for help.” 
She turned to you, snuggling into your shoulder affectionately, “You’re the best Y/n. She was a rockstar today.” She spoke, as you both pushed her into the car. 
Gavi raised his eyebrow at you as you both got in, “A rockstar eh?” 
You rolled your eyes, “She’s just spewing nonsense.” 
Gia groaned in the back, hands clumsily coming to slap your shoulder, “Ehh don’t lie Y/n. You should have seen the way she talked to those guys – even I was scared.” 
You saw Gavi’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, his posture stiffened as he looked over at you,
“Guys? What guys?” 
You opened your mouth to reply but Gia beat you to it. 
“This one guy, he kept trying to get me to come with him, but then Y/n was like no way we’re leaving, and then he started hitting on her, but then he tried to grab her, and she karate chopped his hand! He was so embarrassed!” 
You felt yourself blushing at her recollection of events, “I did not karate chop his hand!” 
“Yes, you did. It was like in midair when he was talking about his friend that liked you, and then I blinked, and it was gone!”
“Did he try anything?” Gavi’s voice was hard, as he looked at you.
You shook your head, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No don’t worry. We were fine.” 
You felt his body relax under your touch, and one of his hands came to grip your own, “You should have called me sooner. I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” 
You felt your heart flutter at his words, “Don’t worry I handled it. But thank you, next time I will.” 
Soon you were pulling up to your apartment and hauling Gia up your steps. 
“I really wish we had an elevator right now.” Gia groaned as she was being half pulled, half carried up the steps. 
You made eye contact with Gavi after hearing her statement, and you had to bite your cheek not to laugh out loud, 
“You and me both G.”
Finally, you reached your apartment, and all let out a sigh of relief as she fell onto your bed, passing out almost immediately. 
You cringed as you saw her head land centimeters away from the sharp edge of one of your textbooks. 
You reached over, clearing the space so she was able to sleep without the risk of a concussion. 
You looked up once the area was cleaned to see Gavi looking at you intently, a weird expression on his face almost like he was stuck in his thoughts. 
“What? Is everything okay?” You asked unsure, looking down at yourself. 
That’s when you realized. 
You were still wearing his hoodie, the one that had a massive red stain on it now thanks to the jackass at the club. 
You had completely forgotten about it. 
You quickly apologized, “Gavi I’m so sorry. Gia called and I was so worried so I grabbed the first thing I could find – and then the guy kept grabbing me and had this drink – anyways,” you let out a huff, “I’m really really sorry, I can buy you a new one.” 
Gavi stared at you in surprise, shocked by your outburst, “Y/n relax. It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry I know how much you love this sweatshirt.” 
Gavi shook his head slightly smiling, you were just so adorable, and he physically couldn’t hold back the words he’d been dying to say any longer, “I love you more though, so it’s fine.” 
“Wha-what?” You stumbled over your words, clearly not expecting such a big revelation.
“I said I love you.” He said it with so much confidence, almost like he was reciting a fact, something that couldn’t be changed, and you melted a little at how sure he sounded. 
You didn’t know what to say, your brain still playing those three words on a loop. He loved you. He had said it first. 
The silence stretched on and now it was his turn to get nervous, “Is that okay?”
Your mouth was still open in shock, but you quickly recovered, 
“Yo-you love me?” Your voice cracked. 
“Well, yeah… why would I not?” He asked, eyes locked on yours.
You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you took a step closer to him, “I love you too, and I’m sorry-”
He cut you off with a sweet kiss, pulling you closer into him, as he slid his hands under the sweatshirt, fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. 
Your lips moved in sync and your hands went to play with his hair, gently tugging. 
You heard him let out a groan and you bit his bottom lip instinctively. 
He pulled away out of breath, a dazed look in his eyes, “Joder, you can ruin all my hoodies if this is how you apologize.” He muttered breathlessly. 
You rolled your eyes, smiling as he brought you back into him for another kiss. 
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wileys-russo · 5 months
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for a potential Ellie Carpenter blurb : maybe some domestic fluff where Ellie is exhausted from all that running around after a match-packed week and reader, her girlfriend, takes care of her.
(Any other details would be up to you)
roadrunner II e.carpenter
you crossed your arms tighter as the airport doors opened and a crisp breeze blew through, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you waited patiently.
bundled up in your girlfriends favorite hoodie she'd so kindly forgotten to pack, you definitely didn't hide it, you were engrossed in the smell of her perfume but it just wasn't the same as the real thing and these last two weeks you'd missed her terribly.
coming off the back of five back to back wins in the span of two weeks with lyon ellie had been called up to her national camp for pre world cup friendlies against new zealand.
she'd flown out from france on tuesday night, arrived in australia friday mornning and played the first game sunday afternoon. from the facetimes or phone calls she somehow managed to squeeze in among her action packed schedule you could see the jetlag was affecting her.
you'd never completely understand what she went through to play for club and country of course, whenever you were called back to england for national duty of your own it was a couple of hours on a plane and that was hardly comparable in the slightest.
however you'd warned her time and time again about burn out and listening to what her body was trying to tell her with the insane travel schedule she stuck to throughout the season going continent to continent.
but each time you tried the blonde would only wave you off making a sarcastic joke and often sending your head spinning with a feverish kiss in an attempt to change the subject, though by now you knew her games all too well.
you perked up as a crowd of tired looking passengers burst through the arrival gates standing on the tips of your toe to try and spot your girlfriend, a frown settling into your features as seemingly everyone headed their separate ways and there was no sign of ellie.
"not looking for someone are we?"
you spun around at the thick australian accent, a grin curling into your lips as the blonde stood behind you with a smile of her own. "how the hell did you get behind me? i was looking so carefully!" you laughed as the two of you pulled one another into a bone crushing hug.
"not carefully enough babe, i'm too good at being sneaky im like a ninja!" ellie pinched your sides teasingly as you pulled away with a roll of your eyes, pecking her lips a few times and grabbing her bags, ignoring her calls that she had them.
"shut up and tell me you missed me." you teased, the taller girl sighing dramatically and pausing as if to ponder her next words.
"need i remind darling that i am your ride home and i have the house keys?" you warned jingling them as the two of you made your way out of the airport and toward the car. "missed you so so so much." ellie wrapped her arms around your neck from behind and kissed your cheek repeatedly.
"much better." you complimented with a wink, smacking her hand away as she tried to grab one of the bags off you. "aren't you going to tell me you missed me?" ellie countered with a playful frown as the two of you neared the car.
"mmm but we promised not to lie to one another." you teased, clicking unlock on the car and squealing as ellie attempted to pick you up and spin you around, her bags falling to the floor as she stumbled and nearly dropped you down with them.
"okay! lets not forget you've just flown for two days." you laughed as you shoved her toward the passenger side and quickly loaded her bags into the back. "thats normally my job." the defender pouted as you opened the drivers door and slid inside.
"snooze you lose and you need a good snooze." you smiled softly, leaning over the middle console to kiss her properly and mumbling how much you missed her against her lips, gently grabbing her hands in yours as she tried to grip the back of your need to deepen the kiss.
"i meant it el, home and sleep." you cautioned firmly though not unkindly, the time nearing 8pm anyway. "food, home and sleep?" the australian asked hopefully as you nodded with an amused smile.
"how could i possibly forget that the way to your heart is through your stomach?"
~
only when you got home after grabbing takeout on the way back, ellie did not want to sleep. "el!" you groaned, dragging your hands down your face as the two of you finished dinner and she insisted on washing up, and then unpacking, and then doing her laundry.
"what? if i do it now then i save myself doing it tomorrow, or you doing it for me!" the blonde replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, the bags under her eyes growing darker and darker with each passing minute.
"ellie, my love." you moved your body to block the exit of your shared bedroom, your face softening as ellie sighed and placed down the basket of washing.
"you're racing around like a roadrunner and you've been on the go for weeks now. we have two days off before we're back to training and you need to rest." you reminded, hands falling to gently clasp her face.
"its nine at night and you've been flying since monday morning, you might feel awake but you look like shit and i can see in your eyes that you are fighting exhaustion. please let me look after you so you're looking after yourself baby." you requested, thumbs tracing the sharp curve of her jaw, bracing as suddenly the tall defender collapsed into you.
"do i really look like shit?" she mumbled into your shoulder making you chuckle, body sagging and melting into yours as you held her tightly and smiled.
"you always look beautiful but today lets just say you look a bit beautifully disheveled." you tangled a hand in her hair and moved to scratch at her scalp as she heavily exhaled and you shifted a little as more of her weight bore into you.
"okay. how about this-" you gently pushed her backward until she was sat on the edge of the bed, her arms moving to wrap around your waist as her head fell to your stomach with a hum.
"-you go and pick a movie, get comfortable. i'll pop your washing on and we can lay down together and watch something until you fall asleep, deal?" you bargained as ellie exhaled heavily but nodded in agreement.
"good." you tilted her head back with your finger and placed a tender kiss to her lips. breaking away you hurried to grab her basket of washing, darting off to the laudry as your girlfriends footsteps made their way toward the living room and you heard the gentle thud of her body slumping into the sofa.
returning a few minutes later you smiled to see her wrapped up in a blanket, blonde hair hidden beneath your favourite hoodie she'd taken with her. "swap." the australian called out as you arrived beside her, sitting up and starting to take it off.
"what?" you laughed as she rolled her eyes and huffed, tugging impatiently at the hem of your own hoodie and repeating herself. "alright alright, needy." you teased, tugging off the hoodie and trading with her, both of you pulling the material over your heads.
"this one smells much more like you." ellie mumbled happily, going to lay down again as you stopped her, slipping in behind her into her normal position of the big spoon. "do you want a drink or anything?" you whispered into her hair as she clicked play on the movie.
"no, just a tall glass of you." the australian replied charmingly with a smile, eyes drooping a little as she fought back a yawn. "always the charmer aren't you carpenter." you teased as she settled herself into you, flipping around onto her stomach as her head rested on your chest and her hands dug into the small of your back.
"oh els no come on!" you whined seeing which movie she'd selected, one of her favorites she'd watched to death and back, and one that you despised and she well knew.
"you'll fall asleep like ten minutes in and i'll be stuck." you complained, her hand moving over your mouth the only response you needed. unable to argue with the adorably tired smile sent your way you melted, pressing a kiss to her nose and grinning as she scrunched it up.
"go to sleep angel." you whispered watching as a few minutes in she was fighting to keep her eyes open, one hand sneaking up the back of her hoodie and the other messing with her hair, your nails raking up and down the toned and tanned skin of her back.
"mm that feels nice baby." the australian mumbled, eyes fluttering closed finally as her body relaxed and her breathing evened out. within a couple of minutes you bit your lip to stop from laughing as she let out a small snore, a tell tale sign that she was exhausted and out cold.
but you'd be sure to tease her for it once she was a little better rested tomorrow.
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sunshine-theseus · 6 months
Text
I’ve Got You | Charlie Grant x reader
Word Count: 2.4k Summary: Having someone like Charlie by your side makes pregnancy a whole lot easier. i don't think this is my best i'm sorry Warnings: none? Request for - @charligrantismygirlfriend
Being friends with Katrina basically guaranteed being friends with Kyra and Charlie.
I met Kat in 2022, toward the end of her time at Brisbane, as she was beginning to get back in with the Matildas. I found myself crying in the baby aisle of a rather desolate IGA in Clayfield when she crouched next to me and asked me if I was alright. I didn’t look up as I struggled to calm my sobbing to explain my situation.
“He- he left me. I’m 21 and pregnant without a partner. How am I supposed to have a baby without a partner?” I stared up at her with red-rimmed eyes and tears that stream down my cheeks. It’s then that I notice she has a young baby resting on her hip, eyes gently closed as her head rests on the shoulder of this woman.
“Do… do you have anyone that will help?” I vigorously shook my head, then told her how I’d been living alone for 4 years, my parents running off to whatever dingy town they decided would bring them the most drugs without police caring.
“A- and he kicked me out. Oh fuck I don’t have anywhere to live what the fuck am I doing?!” my eyes frantically flickered around the store as my situation settled in. There was no way I could survive this.
“I know this is a weird offer but… you could live with me? I have a spare bedroom and rent is getting kind of wild. And Harper would love you.” She looked down at the girl who clung to her with such adoration.
“I’m Katrina.” She reached out her hand and I took it.
“Y/n” I smiled gently at her.
“I mean it. You living with me. I had Harper 8 months ago and I have bunch of pregnancy books and clothes and all that stuff.”
“W- what about your partner? Won’t he mind?”
“She lives in Sweden, so probably not.” Katrina then told me her story of wanting to be a mum and going through IVF, and how Harper brought her back to football.
~~~~~
About 2 months later, I was flying over to Sweden, following shortly after Kat and Harper left. I attended pretty much every game Kat played, taking care of Harper when her mum couldn’t make it, and researching a lot.
I was lucky my job was remote, so I was able to move around with Kat without an issue. My boss had sent a small gift basket of baby books and clothes when I told her I would be living overseas for 6 or so months. She also gave me less work, insisting that I meet people and do fun things instead of worrying about how much I had to do. She was probably the person who pushed me the most to meet someone new.
It was 2 weeks after I moved in with Kat, and met Clara, that I met Charlotte and Kyra. Despite Kyra’s club being 5 – 6 hours away, she’d somehow managed to make it down for a few days on a short break between matches. We all went for coffee and brunch, me limiting my food to hashbrowns and toast because most other things made me nauseas.
Charlie and Kyra asked how Kat and I met and why I was living with them. I gave them a rather short version of the day in the IGA, and Charlie reached over and put an empathetic hand on my shoulder. I give a tight-lipped smile in return.
It doesn’t take long for me to grow close to the two younger players Kat had also taken under her wing. Some days they had off, I’d take Harper off Kat and Clara’s hands and take her somewhere with Charlie, like the park or a pool. Other days we’d all go together and when Kyra could, she’d come down and spend a couple days.
It’s nice to have friends my age to hang out and talk with, Katrina having been the only person I had for the most part of 3 or so months.
Both girls insisted I need to meet the other Matildas, but I struggled to find time when they have camp, or I’m too nauseas to travel.
This creates a new problem when Kat and Clara both decide to head back to Brisbane in mid-November now that the Swedish season is done, so Kat can play with the Roar again during the A-League season.
My bump is relatively big, and most forms of travel make me sick, so I know I won’t really be able to travel with them back home, and in a few more weeks I won’t be allowed to fly. So I’m stuck by myself again. Until Charlie makes a rather compelling offer.
They don’t have any matches in the up-coming international break, so she offers me to live with her for the time being so I’m not as alone. The one fault to present itself, is she only has 1 bed. I insist I sleep on the couch, but she waves the idea away as I hold my stomach, trying to relieve some pressure.
“Oh! Can I try something? It might help give you some relief for a moment. I saw it on TikTok.” I simply nod my head; I’ll try anything at this point.
I’m slightly shocked when she circled around behind me and reached around my front, but I can’t question anything before she placed her hands beneath my belly and lifts. I groan in relief and my hand rolls back onto her shoulder.
“Holy shit that feels so nice.” She holds my belly for a minute or so before gently removing her hands and pressing a kiss to my cheek.
I flush red as she goes back to making lunch. I’ve found myself doing that a lot around her recently. Any nice gesture or any touch and I’m blushing and butterflies flutter around my stomach. Sometimes I wonder if the same thing happens to her.
Later in the day, I'm desperate to take a nap, so I slowly lay down on Charlie’s couch. It takes her all of 5 seconds to realise and start pulling me up, dragging me to her bedroom.
“If you’re so adamant that I don’t sleep on the couch, and you definitely shouldn’t be sleeping on the couch, we can share the bed. It’s big enough for us both.” I don’t have the energy to refuse as I fall back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as Charlie plays with my hair.
~~~~~
I spend the next 2 months spending time with Charlie and Kyra, who also decided not to travel home until their Cup of Nations games in February. Kyra stays on a blow-up mattress she lugged with her from Stockholm while Charlie and I continue to share the bed.
I’m a week away from my due date when I feel something wet drip down my legs. Kyra and Charlie freak out, but I let them know my contractions haven’t started. And I nearly think that maybe it was somehow a false alarm.
Nearly a day later, I feel severe pressure on my pelvis. I groan in pain and clutch my stomach as I move positions, assuming it’s just a Braxton Hicks contraction. The pain doesn’t subside for a minute or so, and Kyra doesn’t take notice of my groans from the other room, on a call with Charlie who had forgotten the grocery list and now had to have Kyra recite it to her so she could rewrite it on her phone.
I don’t think much of the contraction until I feel another one 20 minutes later, and another 20 minutes after that. They progressively get closer together and I call out to Kyra to help me up from the bed before calling for an ambulance, and I frantically scroll my contacts for Charlie’s number. It takes 10 minutes for her keys to rattle against the door and she rushes in, followed closely by the paramedics.
~~~~~
I suffer through 13 hours of labour before I’m holding a small bundle in my arms, Charlie holding another, as Kyra takes photos to send Kat later.
“I can’t believe that fucking piece of shit left you, but at least he gave you two little cuties.” Charlie passes the baby off to Kyra and turns to me.
“I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you, Kat and Kyra.”
“I’m so proud of you.” I don’t stop to think before I lean over and gently place my lips on hers, her strawberry chapstick is all I can taste.
I see a flash go off in the corner of my eye and whip my head to look at Kyra, who giggles sheepishly before looking back down at the baby in her arms.
“I know this is probably rushed and wild, but do you want to move in with me? Officially? We can find a bigger place to house the girls. But I’ve been holding in my feelings for you for like 6 months now. I promise to take care and love you and the twins with my whole heart.” A tear falls down my cheek as I nod my head, and she kisses me again.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Oh! Mini’s calling! She doesn’t know! What do I do? Do I answer?” Kyra interrupts us, frantically looking for whether she should answer or not.
“Facetime her.” Kyra hands the baby back to Charlie and quickly facetimes Katrina, who doesn’t take a moment to answer.
“None of you have answered any of my calls for the past 14 hours what the fuck is going on? Why does it look like you’re in a hospital” is the first thing she says as Kyra’s phone faces away from me.
“Well… we have a surprise.” The phone slowly pans over to Charlie and I and we both grin.
“WHAT THE FUCK? You had the baby?!”
“Babies” Charlie corrects her.
“Twins?!”
“Kat, I’d like you to meet Ashley Jade and Maysilee Hazel Gorry.” Everyone’s heads snap to look at me as I smile.
“What, what do you mean ‘Gorry’?”
“You literally changed my life, took me in when I had no one, introduced me to my best friend… and girlfriend,” I pause and give Charlie a look, she smiles in return.
“I also changed my name like a month ago, to Y/n Gorry. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind what the fuck!?” I glance back at Katrina; tears prick at her eyes and my own mirror her’s.
“I’m going to fucking fly over and meet those little cuties.”
“Well, I was thinking… if they’re healthy enough to travel, we’d fly over with Kyra and Charlie for your Cup of Nations matches in February? And I’d meet the team.” Another wave of shock ripples through out the room
“Fuck yes!”
We talk to Kat for a while after that. Harper tumbles into screen and coos at the babies but soon looses interest, and Clara comes in to congratulate me. We eventually have to say goodbye.
“Is it ok if I head back to the apartment? I think if I fall asleep on these chairs, I’ll never be able to play again.” Kyra dramatically complains, but I just smile and nod, sending her on her way.
“I know I already said it, but I am so proud of you and I love you so much. You could’ve given up on these babies, but you pushed through.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you Char, these little guys are going to adore their mumma so much.”
“Of course they will, you’re so amazing.”
“I mean you…”
“R-really?”
“I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.” She kisses me passionately, well as passionately as you can kiss someone who’s lying in a hospital bed while you’re both holding a baby.
~~~~~
“Are you excited to see your aunties?” Ashley and Maysilee’s giggles fill the car ass Charlie tickles their feet.
“Yay yay yay!” they both chant as we help them out of the car and onto their feet.
They’re running down the corridor as soon as the elevator doors part open, giggling and screaming without knowing where they’re supposed to be going. They only stop when they run into two pairs of legs, and they sheepishly look up as they go to apologise, only to be picked up.
“Aunty MinMin! Aunty Anna!” Maysilee screams as Alanna gives her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, Ashley much quieter as she returns Kat’s hug.
“We’ll look after them while you settle in. I missed my favourite twins.” Kat says as she also gives Maysilee a gentle kiss on the forehead.
Charlie and I take each other’s hand as we walk to our room, kissing our daughters goodbye and thanking the pair of teammates. When we reach the room, I waste no time in fall on the bed, Charlie following swiftly behind. I lean into her as she wraps her arms around me before I kiss her.
We spend another hour or so cuddling and kissing, basking in the childless quiet. I admire Charlie like I do every moment we get together, her crystal blue eyes, the shape of her nose, her dull pink lips, the small scar above her right eyebrow. And I wonder the same thing I always do; how did I get so lucky.
“I can’t believe we brought our kids to the Olympics. Who does that? We should have left them with someone back in London.” I joke before kissing her.
“I’d take my babies anywhere; I hate being apart from you all.” Charlie pouts and kisses me again, and again.
~~~~~
Charlie brings Ashley, Maysilee and I to all the events and training sessions Tony allows her to, the girls always with one of their Mumma’s jerseys on or something that showcases a blatant support for the Matildas.
After a particularly difficult game, the team silently heads back to their rooms, Charlie curling up under the blanket as I get the twins ready for bed. When they notice she hasn’t come to kiss them goodnight, they clamber up onto the bed and start to tickle and poke her. She doesn’t respond and they seem to understand she’s upset.
“What’s wrong mumma?”
“Mumma’s just sad and hurt about today babies.” Charlie whispers through shaky breath.
I watch as they calm down and instead wrap their arms around her and kiss her gently, like she kisses them when they’re hurt. I slowly slide in behind Ashley, wrapping my arm around all 3 of them.
“We’ve got you baby.” I give them all a kiss and we fall asleep like that, the sun slowly allowing the blanket of stars to fill the sky.
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hades-in-bloom · 5 months
Text
The Bigger Person
Spawn!Astarion Ancunin x Redeemed Dark Urge!Reader
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summary: after saving Baldur’s Gate, Astarion and his partner descend into the Underdark to take care of Cazador’s misdeeds. All seven thousands of them. Was it something the elf truly wanted to do with his freedom?
spoilers for Act 3/Pale Elf and Epilogue
warnings & contents: teethy fluff; established relationship; comfort, sass, and class; hints of existential crisis; the reader could be any gender; mentions of trauma; some hugs; assumed drow or half-drow background of the reader but could be any race
a/n: I am kinda terrified of writing for Astarion as I respect Larian’s work SO MUCH (so Larian, please forgive me, if I ever do this goofy dagger-happy love wrong). This blurb came out of nowhere as I was bored during my long ass flight. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo
soundtrack: miley cyrus — used to be young
***
You watched Astarion from afar as elf was basking in the azure light of a Sussur tree. His pale skin glowing, eyes half-lidded—one of, if not the most beautiful sight you’ve seen in your entire life. Radiance of a Sussur flower might have been the closest thing to the sunlight the vampire spawn had now, after the ever-protecting tadpole was gone.
It was barely a couple of weeks since the Netherbrain crushed into the Chionthar. The exhausting journey was finally over. Your thoughts for a moment went to Gale—how was he fairing now, taking into account his condition? And what any of you was supposed to do with your lives now, after saving the world?
You shook off your guessings by and by—only to notice that it was Astarion’s turn to stare at you. His smooth lips curved into a mischievous grin.
“My once murderous little love, what were you daydreaming of?” The man wondered as he stepped towards you, stretching out a hand for you to touch, inviting you to feel the soothing coldness of his forever-young skin. The elf tilted his head a bit, curiously; studying you.
“You seemed… far from here.” Although his tone was lighthearted, you could see concern in the wandering gaze of garnet eyes. After all these weeks traveling—and now living— together, you could read him quite well.
“It’s nothing,” you mumbled before coming to your senses; a gentle, slightly teasing smile appearing on your face. “I was stalking you, actually. You fit quite well with the Underdark, you know.”
Astarion didn’t seem to object your observations.
Obviously.
“Well,” he gestured abstractly, pretending not to care, although he cared quite a bit. “You don’t say, my sweet. Although I'd assume that my features should look aesthetically pleasing in most of the attention worthy places.”
You couldn’t keep a straight face as you laughed, enjoying his lazy attempts to hide a proud smile.
“Behave, Astarion. There are kids in the close vicinity, after all.”
The man changed in the face and let out a soft groan. “Seven thousand of them,” he muttered with slight annoyance in his voice.
Despite grimaces Astarion made regularly, you could see him enjoying it—taking care of the murderous horde of vampire spawns to whom the elf showed mercy in the palace. He was their mentor, their leader now—a counterpart to what Cazador was, the monster that created them all. Now so much better than him.
“I blame you,” Astarion continued in the meantime, playfully pointing a finger in your direction. “That’s all your nasty influence. Be the bigger person, dear!..” he passionately—and painfully accurately—mimicked your tone of voice while saying the last piece. You, though, weren’t offended in the slightest. You liked him even more when he dared to show the silly side of his complex, wounded personality.
You felt his hand crawling around your waist as he huffed next to your ear shortly after. “Why should I be a bigger person, darling, when I can be happy and petty?”
You snorted. “I don’t think you’re holding back on pettiness, love.”
His smile stretched across the skin of your neck in a silent, although eloquent enough reply. None of you said a thing for quite a while, staying motionless close to each other with heads buried deep into your own thoughts.
“Thank you.” You blurted out eventually.
Astarion shifted, looking into your face with his eyebrow raised. He was visibly confused.
“Thank you for choosing this. Choosing them.” you continued as you met his gaze with yours. “Instead of your… freedom.” You struggled to find a better word for that.
Astarion didn’t seem to be convinced; didn’t seem to follow at first. “I’m free,” he replied gravely. “The bastard is dead.”
You shook your head slightly. “You could’ve been anywhere. Doing anything,” you retorted with care. “But you’re here instead.”
His facial features softened as he understood why you were saying what you were saying. There was a pinch of truth in your words—he spent some time thinking about it, too, after you’ve both descended into the Underdark and began building this fort; the safe harbor for Cazador’s cursed—as although perpetually hungry vampire spawns now, these people deserved to have a place to call home, no matter how dangerous or uncivilised per human standards it was.
You heard Astarion letting out a reluctant sigh as he came to terms with his own decision once more.
“This was the right thing to do.” The elf concluded at once.
Mild aversion to his own heroism that manifested itself in his whole appearance in that particular moment made you giggle suddenly.
“My, my. Who thought you'd be up for doing The Right Thing the first time we met.”
The elf gave you a friendly, tad fiendish stare as he rolled his eyes, and you scoffed as he spoke. “Not that you were a paragon of virtuousness back then either, being your daddy’s scion.” You made an unamused face that made him smile.
Astarion reassured you then with playful seriousness, letting his lips and teeth slide affectionately to your neck. “Don’t keep your hopes up, darling. Now my quota of the rightful deeds is fulfilled for the upcoming century.”
You smirked as you locked him into a hug, not believing a single word of what that man just said as you felt him hugging you back.
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