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#I don't know that's just my personal thoughts
miley1442111 · 3 days
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saving me- s.reid
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a/n: fem reader, but as always imagine what you like :)
summary: spencer has to save you before it's too late.
pairing: spencer reid x fem bau! reader
warnings: general cm topics, sexual assault, hostage situation, drugging, the team don't know about you and spencer, injuries, reader gets injured, reader is allergic to opioids, drugs, alergic reaction, knives, guns, reader begs to be killed, spencer shoots someone. (i think that's it, tell me if i missed anything :))
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Another migraine. Another fucking migraine. 
Your life was truly a joke. 
You sat beside Emily in the car, eyes heavy with pain as you profusely rubbed them, the sunlight from the sky beside you far too bright. 
“Y/l/n? Any ideas?” Morgan asked, kicking you softly under the table.
“The unsub will probably be extremely interested in the investigation but they probably won’t bring themselves into it. We’ll end up seeking them out,” you rattled off. 
“Are you alright?” Prentiss whispered. 
“Fine,” you lied. “Just tired eyes.” 
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Spencer’s eyes were on you from the second you’d spoken about your ‘tired eyes’. He was meant to be working up a geological profile, but his focus was completely on you. ‘Tired eyes’, you’d been wearing glasses or contacts all week, you’d been drinking enough liquids, you’d been eating, he assumed you’d slept, you'd been busy most of the week and sleeping at your own apartment instead of his. 
What could cause ‘tired eyes’?
“Reid!” Seaver all but shouted in his ear. 
“Y-yeah? Yes?” He answered, eyes focusing on the map again. 
“Is Y/l/n here?” Rossi asked. 
“W-what? No. I thought she went with Hotch and Prentiss,” he hesitated. 
“She told them she was with us,” Rossi sighed. “So then where is she?”
“I-I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “I’ll call her.”
Rossi held up your cell phone and Spencer’s stomach dropped.
“Shit,” he cursed.
“Shit is right,” Rossi nodded. 
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It had been 24 hours, you were officially a missing person. You had no idea where you were, someone must’ve drugged you. That hadn’t been a regular migraine. Your head thumped with pain as you struggled against the duct tape around your hands and feet. 
“You’re one beautiful girl, aren’t you?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, feel the way he was watching you. 
You tried to scream but the duct tape around your mouth made it difficult.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he came closer, into the light. You could see his face. He was a white male, between the ages of 35-40, dad-build, and a sick smirk. 
You didn’t fight back, you couldn’t. You didn’t even notice the camera in the corner. You didn’t know that this was being recorded, or live-streamed directly to Penelope. Penelope, who showed it to the team. To your boyfriend. 
They were watching the worst moment of your life unfold. 
And you had no idea. 
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“Guys,” Penelope squeaked. “This j-just came through,” she showed them her laptop and looked away, tears clouding her vision. 
“Is that-” Derek started
“Y/n,” Aaron finished for him. 
“What about her? Did you find her?” Spencer asked, staring at the group from behind Penelope. “Is she ok?”
The team’s eyes were glued to the screen as Spencer stood there, demanding an answer. 
“Guys what?!” he shouted. “Someone answer me!”
“Come here,” Seaver sighed. Spencer stood beside her and watched in horror as the unsub hurt you. 
“We have to find her,” he stated. “Now.”
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“Please, please just kill me,” you begged. He’d taken the tape off a while ago. “Please kill me.”
“I’m not a necrophiliac,” he laughed in your face. “I like my girls alive.”
“Fuck you,” you sobbed. Blood, dirt, tears, and sweat coating your skin. “Fuck you!”
“I’m actively trying to fuck you,” he laughed again. You hated him. You hated this. You hated everything.  
“Just kill me,” you sobbed. “Please!”
He hit you on the head and you went out again. 
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“FBI!” Morgan’s voice rang out through the warehouse. Spencer was hot on his heels, walking ahead of him and ignoring proper protocol. “Reid!” He ran after him. 
“FBI! Put the knife down!” Spencer shouted at the unsub holding a knife to your throat. Something had gone wrong. He scanned the room quickly. 
“I-I didn’t mean to- I was just-” The unsub stepped away, dropping the knife. “She wasn’t meant to die.”
Die. Dead. You were dead.
Spencer fired his gun without a second thought. He ran over to you and checked your pulse, there but barely. 
“Hotch I need an ambulance!” He shouted. “Y/n, baby, I need you to wake up,” he begged. “Please, please, wake up, I need you Y/n. Please.” 
“Spencer-” Prentiss started but Spencer silenced her with his own words. 
“We’re dating. We have been for a year and a half, don’t you dare tell me to ‘step away’,” he sighed. 
The paramedics rushed in, starting you on an IV. 
“She’s allergic to opioids,” Spencer rattled off. “She can’t have any opioids.”
“Spencer,” Hotch sighed. “She’s had some already,” Hotch pointed to the vials in the corner of the room and the rusty needle beside them. 
Fuck. 
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“So when were you planning on telling us?” Derek sighed as they all sat in the waiting room.
“I don’t know, soon-maybe?”
“A year and a half is a long time,” Emily smiled. “Congratulations.”
Spencer nodded.
“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked. Spencer shot up and out of his seat. 
“Yes?” 
“Ms. Y/l/n is stable but she is severely hurt. Physically and... mentally. She endured hours of sexual assault and her body and mind reflect that. I suggest someone non-threatening to see her first. Maybe a woman?”
Spencer gulped and nodded. “Emily?”
“Yeah of course,” she nodded, walking behind the nurse as he led her to your room.
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You wanted Spencer. You needed him.
Emily walked in and tears filled your eyes. “Where’s Spencer? Is he ok?”
“He’s fine, they just thought that you’d want someone non-threatening to come in and see you first-” Emily explained. 
“Can you go grab Spencer please?” you sniffled. She smiled and nodded, then left the room. 
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“Spencer?” Emily called into the hall. “She wants you.”
Spencer had never walked faster in his life. 
There you were. Bruises and scratches littering your body and face. Your beautiful face. Your beautiful smile and teary eyes.
“Come here, please,” you whispered. Spencer sat at your side, your hand in his. “Thank you.”
He chuckled sadly. “For what?”
“Saving me. All the time,” you smiled softly.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)
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ozzgin · 22 hours
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Yandere! CEO Headcanons
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Just a little idea I had some time ago of a rather bizarre dynamic: a CEO with no time to spare, introduced to a young student his wife befriended. Perhaps he does have a moment, after all. (I need to dump my preference for a cultured older man somewhere)
Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, NSFW, dating the wife is optional
[Original works masterlist]
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Yandere! CEO who is in his mid 40s and terribly invested in his job. So much, that he and his wife agreed on an open relationship many years ago and barely interact anymore. Not a gloomy business by any means: she gets to meet new people and he can enjoy his work and hobbies in peace and without guilt.
Yandere! CEO who doesn't think much of it when his wife brings home a young student she befriended at a convention. He nods dismissively, returning to his papers and phone calls. At dinner, he just hums in acknowledgement and fiddles with the cutlery while the woman talks about you excitedly. "You know, (Y/N) reminds me a little of you." Nonsense.
Yandere! CEO with whom you scarcely interact: he's a borderline workaholic, and your relationship is cordial at best. That is until you're asked by the wife to retrieve some important documents from their ridiculously luxurious apartment. You quietly tiptoe past the office, but can't help glancing at the imposing library, stacked with books. The man's sudden arrival startles and you begin to mumble apologies, but he seems more interested in your curiosity than anything else.
Yandere! CEO who can't believe you both like the same authors. He discreetly removes the folder from your hands, tasking one of the assistants to deliver it to his wife instead. There are more important matters at hand. Have you had your coffee yet? Oh, you must stay longer. What's the hurry?
Yandere! CEO who has become awfully perceptive whenever your name is mentioned in conversations, innocently probing for more details. Naturally, he wouldn't mind meeting you again, but it's not...a need, per se. He was just pleasantly surprised to find someone he could so easily engage in conversation with. Hell, you're old enough to be his daughter. Don't be ridiculous, he'll scold himself sternly whenever his mind wanders too far.
Yandere! CEO who begins to feel like each encounter is a flirty tease. Is it just wishful thinking, or are you becoming cheekier by day? The way you bat your eyelashes, the way you cast your eyes down whenever he looks at you. The next time you're alone in the apartment, he's too far gone in his delusions to act rationally. How unusual for him to act so nonchalant. Unbuttoning your shirt with haste, trailing your neck with hot kisses, lifting your leg and pressing you against the wall. He never considered himself the type to fuck a much younger woman out of raw lust.
Yandere! CEO who loves taking you on dates despite his busy schedule. Art museums, theatres, the Opera. He is eager to introduce you to his interests and will answer any question or curiosity you have. Who would've thought everything is better in two? Of course, there could be other factors involved. Like the added bonus of watching you squirm in your seat and biting your lips to be quiet while he fingers you at the peak of Act 3. Then smirking to himself when everyone stands up for applause, and you have to rearrange your dress to hide the wet mess underneath.
Yandere! CEO who worries about you when he's on work trips, so he tasks his right-hand man to look after you and keep you company. If you ever get lonely, you can rely on his assistant to take care of all your needs. Now, he's not one to share, despite his marital arrangement. As bizarre as it sounds, he just sees the employee as a mere toy, an idle occupation who can temporarily entertain you in his absence. What he does perceive as a threat is swiftly taken care of. It's enough for you to mention another student flirted with you, and you'll never see that person again. You have to understand that he doesn't play around with his assets. One he has something, he holds onto it with ironclad strength. And he's never been more desperate to keep something in his possession.
Yandere! CEO who makes sure to remind you why dating him is your best (and only) choice. You would've wasted your time with boys your age. He can offer you the world and more, all you need to do is ask for it.
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leahwllmsn · 2 days
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so high school | alexia putellas x reader
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You know two things about Alexia Putellas.
Alexia Putellas is the school’s football captain and troublemaker. From showing up late to most of her classes, to getting caught smoking under the bleachers—usually when the name Alexia Putellas is mentioned, it’s not anything good.
That’s why the second thing you know about Alexia Putellas is that you have to stay far, far away from her.
You are the picture perfect high school student. Straight A’s, president of the student council, president of the debate team, all the teachers love you, and all the students envy you. That’s why you promised yourself that you’ll never associate yourself with someone like Alexia Putellas.
It worked out well for years. You’ve been in the same school ever since you were kids but you have never said as much as a ‘hello’ to the brunette.
You’re happy about that.
Staying as far away as possible from Alexia Putellas means you will never get in trouble.
So with the years of experience of avoiding Alexia Putellas, you don't know how you get to this point. Maybe the universe wants to teach you a lesson, maybe the universe just doesn't like you, or maybe you have simply run out of luck. Because one moment you're taking down notes and the next, your history teacher has paired you up with the person you swear you’ll never interact with.
When class is over and everyone rushes out, you go up to the teacher because this is unfair, Alexia Putellas isn’t even in class today. And when he answers your complaints with a shrug and a tone so final that you know he won’t change his mind, you know you’re screwed.
-
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Me neither,” your best friend sighs, unwrapping her lunch. “Can’t believe Ona is sick today and I have to put up with your ass alone.”
You roll your eyes. You’re sitting at your usual table at the cafeteria, the spot where Ona usually sits empty. “You would be nicer to me if you knew what just happened to me.”
“Did you get detention?”
“As if,” you scoff. “Now that I think about it, this is worse.”
Aitana turns to look at you, eyebrow raising in question. “What could be worse than that in your standards?”
“This stupid history project.”
“You calling an assignment stupid? That’s a first.”
You let out a sigh, placing your head on the table. “It’s because I got paired up with Alexia Putellas.”
“No way.”
You don't have to look at Aitana to know that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You grunt in reply, your friends always seem to make fun of you every time you’re miserable about something.
“You know, y/n,” Aitana nudges you, causing you to lift your head. “She’s actually not that bad.”
You furrow your brows. “You’ve talked to her?”
“Obviously,” Aitana looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “She’s captain of the football team. I’m on the football team. Or did you forget?”
“Right,” you grimace as you remember that Alexia Putellas is Aitana’s captain. “Wait, but you’re actually friends with her outside of the field?” You shudder at the thought.
Aitana rolls her eyes. “You sound so dramatic right now.”
“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re friends with Alexia Putellas.”
“Stop saying her name like that,” Aitana laughs. “Sure, she brings trouble wherever she goes, but she’s not as bad as people made her out to be. And she’s a fantastic footballer.”
“She’s bad news,” you cross your arms. “Do you remember that time when she showed up to school one morning with her face so bruised up, all we could see were bandages?”
“Yeah,” Aitana says casually, taking a bite out of her lunch. “She got into a fight with someone from the men’s team.”
“Exactly!” you slap Aitana’s arm repeatedly. “She started a fight with the captain of the football team. She’s insane.”
“Men’s football team,” Aitana corrects your statement. “And was it the captain? I swore I remember it being that good-for-nothing defender. Anyway, I’m sure she had her reasons.”
You shrug. “She’s still bad news.”
“And she’s also your history project partner,” Aitana grins at you. “I have her number if you want.”
“No, it’s fine,” you sigh, once again placing your head on the table. “I’ll go look for her after school.”
“Cheer up, grumpy. I have a feeling you’ll like her.”
You scoff. “I think you’re way off, but sure.”
-
tana: oni, first day without you here and y/n is a grumpy mess
y/n: I’m in pain. Stfu.
oni: what’d I miss
tana: y/n’s on her way to talk to alexia
oni: ????
y/n: It’s not what you think.
y/n: I have to talk to her about our history project.
oni: ...goodluck?
y/n: Thanks, I need it.
tana: vry dramatic
-
You have never imagined yourself to be where you are right now. Everyone knows that under the bleachers is the spot where people go when they want to do things that they don’t want the teachers to see—like smoking, or maybe making out with someone. Or other things, you don't really know, because you have never been here.
And you won’t ever step foot in here if it’s not because of Alexia Putellas.
The second you step under the bleachers, the faint smell of smoke wafts up your nose and you have to blink back a couple of times because it’s not as bright as you expected. You figure it’s probably because it’s going to rain soon.
As you takes more steps forward, you realize that no one was there and that maybe you should’ve accepted Aitana’s offer of Alexia Putellas’ number.
You sigh and pull out your phone from the pocket of your jeans. You’re about to press the call button on Aitana’s contact when a voice startles you.
“Looking for me?”
You turn around and standing in front of you is the person you’ve been looking for.
(And you don't know why but the sight of Alexia Putellas in her leather jacket and messy brown hair is making your heart beat faster than it should.)
“I am.” you reply, walking towards her.
“The y/n l/n is looking for me? To what do I owe the pleasure?”
(You hate the way Alexia Putellas’ smirk doesn’t do anything to calm your racing heart.)
“You weren’t in history class today,” you cross your arms. “Why?”
“So you’re worried about me.”
“Why would I be?” you narrow your eyes at the brunette. “We’re partners for a project.”
“Cool.”
You want to scream at how frustrated you are at this whole thing. Alexia Putellas doesn’t care about her grades, she has proven that many times when teachers have always used her as an example of having multiple failing grades. You wonder if they’d expel her if she isn’t the superstar captain of the women’s football team.
“Look,” you rub your temple. “I’m not thrilled about this either—”
“Who says I’m not thrilled?”
“You’re Alexia Putellas, I highly doubt you’d be thrilled about an assignment.”
“Maybe for once I’m thrilled because I have you as a partner.”
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “As I was saying, you probably don’t want to do this, right? Which is fine, because what I’ll do is that I’ll get it done and I’ll still put in your name.”
Alexia gives you a confused look. “So you’ll do all the work?”
“Exactly. We don’t have to interact at all, problem solved.”
“You don’t want to hang with me?” Alexia pouts. “I’m sad, y/n.”
And you’re starting to feel the heat rising to your cheeks—no, it's not because of the pout on Alexia Putellas’ face showing just how plump her lips are and it's definitely not because of the sudden thought that flashes in your mind about how those lips would feel on your own. No, you will argue that it's not because of all that. It’s because it has started raining and it’s making it even stuffier under the bleachers.
“I’m going to leave now,” you announce. “It was good to talk to you.”
When you walk past her, you don’t expect her to grab you by the wrist (and you don’t expect Alexia Putellas’ touch to be so gentle).
“Wait,” Alexia starts. “We’re partners, right? I should at least contribute to something.”
You look down at your wrist, still seeing Alexia’s hand around it. “Uhm, I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Alexia lets go of her hold (and you would be lying if you say you don't feel the slight disappointment creeping in). “It’s not because of that,” Alexia clarifies. “I just want to do it.”
You still look unconvinced and Alexia must’ve noticed too, because she rolls her eyes and murmurs, “Is my reputation really that bad that me wanting to participate in my own assignment is such a surprise?”
“Yes? It’s a two-month long project. Even I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”
Alexia ignores your answer and proceeds to pull out her phone. She unlocks it and hands it to you.
You look at her questioningly and Alexia sighs. “Put your number in.”
“My number?”
“How should we contact each other about the project?”
You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Alexia’s face. She looks determined and it’s weird to you because you figure she would just accept your offer of doing all the work for her. “You’re serious about this.”
“Just put your number and we’ll figure a schedule out.”
You’re still looking at Alexia skeptically but slowly reaches out to take the phone and put your number in nonetheless.
And when you see that her phone wallpaper is a picture of her smiling (adorably) at the camera next to her dog, you don’t think that’s how a troublemaker should look like. You wonder just how much you know about Alexia Putellas.
-
Their first meeting doesn’t go well—you expected this.
You agreed to meet at the library after school the next day and you have been sitting there, waiting for an hour until you decide to give up because stupid Alexia Putellas is nowhere to be found. You are so pissed.
You get up and slings your backpack over your shoulder. You make it to the parking lot and are about to unlock your car when you hear a voice call out to you.
“y/n!”
You don't have to turn around to know who the voice belongs to. It’s the same voice you heard yesterday under the bleachers (and the voice that somehow made it to your dream last night, but you will never admit this).
You ignore the calls and keep on walking. You’re a few steps away from your car when suddenly Alexia catches up to you and jumps in front of you, making you jump slightly and halting your steps.
“Hey.” Alexia says, trying to catch her breath.
You cross your arms, scowling at her. “What do you want?”
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Ten minutes is late, an hour just means you never wanted to come in the first place.”
Alexia winces. “I do want to come, I swear. I overslept.”
You look unamused. “It’s 3 p.m.”
“I know,” Alexia flashes a sheepish smile. “I decided to take a nap while I wait for your debate thing to end, but I overslept.”
And you would have never believed that excuse if it’s not for the groggy voice and the pillow face she’s wearing. So you just sigh and motion for her to follow you as you walk towards the bleachers because that’s the only place you could think of going since the library is closing soon.
-
“I really am sorry for making you wait.”
You’re sitting at the top of the bleachers, you at the tallest step with your laptop on your lap and Alexia looking up at you from one step below.
“It’s fine,” your replies were short. You’re still a little bit annoyed at the whole situation. If you could’ve picked a partner for history class, it would be Ona. Ona will never be late and Ona will never annoy you this much.
But the way that Alexia keeps on apologizing every few minutes and looking away with a pout on her face when you don't respond, you’re also sure that Ona will never make your heart flutter the way it does around Alexia Putellas—and you don’t want to think of what this could mean.
-
After an hour of sitting uncomfortably under the hot sun, you figure out another thing about Alexia Putellas.
Alexia Putellas is incredibly smart and you’re surprised at how eloquent she is when she lists down everything she knows about the history of Catalonia.
“You fail almost all your classes.” you speak up.
“Yes,” Alexia nods. “What does that have to do with anything I just said?”
“I just wasn’t expecting you to say all that.”
Alexia grins at her. “Do you like surprises, y/n?”
“Uhm, I guess.” you stare back at her confused.
Alexia hums. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep on surprising you.”
You don't respond because you don’t know how to. So you focus your attention back to your laptop and try your best to type something down in order to take your mind off how Alexia Putellas is doing something to you and you’re not sure if it's a good thing or not.
-
Your next meeting starts off well. Alexia is early, you walk into the library to find the brunette already there, her usual leather jacket folded on the chair next to her.
It’s a week after your first meeting and you will never admit it, but you have been looking forward to this day for the whole week.
(It’s because you just want to get this project done, you would convince yourself.)
(Not because in the classes you have with Alexia, she always sits at the back when you sit at the front, so you never really get to see her.)
(No, it’s not because of this.)
“Hi, boss,” Alexia smiles at you. “I didn’t oversleep today.”
“That’s good to hear,” you say, sitting down and opening your bag to take out your laptop.
“I know you’re proud of me.”
You roll your eyes, a small smile on your lips. “Where do you even take your naps?”
“Under the bleachers.”
“Seriously?” you raise your eyebrows. “That must be uncomfortable.”
Alexia shrugs. “There’s a bed.”
“I’m sorry—what?”
“There’s this small mattress. I don’t know who it belongs to or why it’s there, but it’s there.”
You nod, a confused expression still on your face. “I see.”
“I can take you there sometime.”
You don't know if Alexia meant it in a flirty way, but judging by the smirk on her face, she did. So you just roll your eyes and type in the password to your laptop. “You should take me out to dinner first.”
“Okay, I will.” Alexia says it so nonchalantly and you wonder if Alexia’s stomach is filling up with butterflies too.
-
It’s not until the third meeting that you start to text each other with stuff unrelated to the project.
ale: did u know that chipmunks have 4 toes on their back paws but 5 toes on their front ones
y/n: No?
ale: well now u do :-)
y/n: Did you know that you look like you’re part of the chipmunk family?
ale: ???
ale: heeey
y/n: What’s up?
ale: nothin, just thinking about u
y/n: Why
ale: just because
y/n: Are you expecting me to say that I’m thinking about you too?
ale: you are? :D
y/n: No.
ale: whatever ;(
y/n: Why was the chipmunk late for work?
ale: did I miss a conversation somewhere
y/n: Because traffic was nuts.
ale: …
ale: I love it
And it’s not until the fifth meeting that you realize another thing about Alexia Putellas, and that is: Alexia Putellas makes you smile a lot.
You wonder what people think about when the stupid smile on your face appears every time you receive a text from her. Even Ona and Aitana have been pestering you non-stop about it and you’re running out of excuses as to why with every notification you receive, your lips seem to curve upwards automatically.
ale: u look beautiful
y/n: ?
ale: just stating what I see
y/n: Smooth talker. You’re not even here.
ale: I am, on ur right
y/n: Oh wow.
y/n: Aren’t you always out smoking under the bleachers during lunch?
ale: you pay attention :D
You stop once you read Alexia’s text because you do pay attention.
Suddenly, you can’t count on your fingers anymore about how many things you know about Alexia Putellas.
Alexia has a ‘resting bitch face’, that's one of the reasons why people are scared of her. She never smiles when she walks down the hallway, her face barely shows any emotion.
Alexia likes to intimidate people, she does that when people stare at her too long and she glares at them in return. And when they scurry away, she would smile in amusement.
Alexia likes to get into trouble, it’s like she purposely wants to get into trouble with how she picks a fight with someone every week and how she always talks back to the teacher.
Alexia Putellas is exactly how people paint her out to be—a reckless troublemaker who doesn’t care about anything and is always angry at the world about something.
But at the same time, you know that's not everything about her.
You know that Alexia is ridiculously talented at football. You’ve come to their matches enough to figure out that every time she touches the ball, it’s magic. You were there in support of Aitana and Ona, obviously. Not Alexia. (But your YouTube history being full of Alexia’s games may be because you were interested in staring at her. Not that you would admit it).
You know that Alexia is warm and gentle and she has different types of smiles. Alexia has a small smile every time she locks eyes with you in the hallways. Alexia has that smile that reaches her eyes when she laughs at something you say even though you’re pretty sure it’s not even that funny. Alexia has a wistful smile every time the day ends and you leave in your car and she leaves in hers.
You know that Alexia taps her foot repeatedly when she’s focusing on doing something. You know that Alexia has the attention span of a five year old because every five minutes, she would whine about how she’s hungry or how she’s getting tired of the library.
You know that Alexia is funny and she makes you laugh so much that you have lost track on how many times the librarian has told you to keep it down.
You know that Alexia is sweet and charming and she says things that make you want to run home and hide because your cheeks would always redden up.
You know that you like seeing a smile on Alexia’s face a thousand times more than the scowl she’s known to have.
ale: hey? why are u spacing out
And even though you feel that you now know everything about Alexia, you realize that you still don't know one thing about her.
You don’t know why Alexia is so different when she’s around you.
-
You are a problem-solver. That is one of the reasons why you’re such a good student—once you encounter a problem, you immediately think of ways to figure it out and most of the time, it’ll only take you a couple of hours to do so.
And so, you are baffled at how you still can’t figure out the mystery of Alexia Putellas.
You’ve spent most of your time together wondering why Alexia seems to smile more when you’re there or why no one but you sees the sparkle in Alexia’s eyes that is brighter than any stars out there, but the answer seems to never come to you.
So when your project has finally ended and you would no longer have your weekly meetings at the library, you should’ve noticed the dejected look on Alexia’s face and that should’ve given you a clue to the answer you have been so desperately searching for.
But apparently you’re not that smart after all, because once your last meeting ends, you bid Alexia goodbye and go home to spend the rest of your day watching Netflix.
And when Alexia doesn’t text you at night like she usually would, you don't think much of it and let yourself sleep instead.
-
You don't see Alexia the following week. She’s not in the cafeteria, or in the hallways, or even in the classes you share once you look to the back of the classroom where she usually sits.
Alexia doesn’t text you either and you know you should’ve text her first, but you figure Alexia is just busy so you don’t reach out.
And when you don't see Alexia in school for another week but Aitana and Ona see her at practice, you realize that Alexia has been avoiding you.
-
You have never been good with feelings. Especially if it involves someone who you have swore you would stay far, far away from.
So you have been ignoring all these feelings inside of you, ignoring the way your heart speeds up at the mention of Alexia, ignoring how your dreams are now filled with Alexia’s sweet face.
But it’s reached a point where you can’t ignore it anymore because the ache in your heart after not having heard from Alexia in weeks was getting bigger and bigger.
It’s that yearning in your chest that causes you to walk to Alexia’s spot under the bleachers in hopes that she’s there. And when you see her leaning against a pole, one hand in the pocket of her leather jacket and the other holding a cigarette, you finally admit that you might be in love with Alexia Putellas.
“Hi.”
You could see Alexia slightly jump in surprise at your voice. She turns around and her eyes widen when they lock with yours.
“y/n.” Alexia says, her tone clearly showing that she’s not expecting to see you.
“Are you avoiding me?” you jump straight to the point.
“What? No. No?” Alexia stammers, throwing her cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. “What makes you think so?”
You simply scoff and step closer to her. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“I know, you have straight A’s.”
“That’s not what I mean,” you glare at her. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”
When Alexia doesn’t reply, you add in a whisper, “I miss you.”
Alexia still isn’t replying, she just keeps on staring at you with a look that you can’t comprehend.
A second later, when Alexia reaches forward and pulls your face towards her and you can taste the smoke on Alexia’s lips, you realize that the answer you’ve been searching for seems to be simpler than you anticipated.
-
Now you don’t remember why you promised yourself to stay as far away as possible from Alexia. And you don't know how you could be happy about never having spoken to Alexia before.
Because with the way Alexia picks you up in the classes you don’t have together just to walk you to your next class and the way Alexia always waits up for your debate club to end before driving you home, you can list down a hundred more reasons why you should always stay near to Alexia.
Because Alexia feels like sunshine and Alexia makes you feel like you’re always walking on clouds.
Now when the name Alexia Putellas is mentioned, you knows it’s everything good in the world all at once.
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days
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𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ─ PB⁵ ft. UCONN WBB MANAGER
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "Okay the fic Idea I was talking about is, Paige scrolling through your phone gallery and seeing the pics you didn’t send her. “Why didn’t you send me this?” and even sending herself some of the photos to her own phone. BUT then, Ms.reader over here didn’t private certain…. provocative and Lewd photos and forgot about them and Paige sees them (her gf just likes taking pictures of her own body🤷🏽 cuz why not)." for my lovely hamster nonnie
─ word count | 1.2k
─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion. very fluffy and cute, nothing too rough just some good ol' love making. oral (r receiving), praise, nothing else?? enjoy!!!!
─ ev's notes | ok so this also can be read as a standalone buttt this is part of my uconn wbb manager series!
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
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YOU WERE SITTING on your girlfriend's bed, glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you tried to finish up some homework.
Paige had your phone in her hand as she scrolled through your camera roll, looking through all the photos you two had taken together over the past few months. Every now and then, she would let out a soft chuckle or an aww as she stumbled upon a particularly sweet or funny photo. You glanced up from your homework every so often, smiling at her reactions.
"Why didn't you send me this?" Paige asked, showing you a selfie of yourself after the gym yesterday. "You looked sexy, wow."
You chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed but also pleased by her compliment. "I don't know, I guess I forgot to send it," you replied, reaching out to take a closer look at the photo.
Paige laughed, leaning into you as she continued to scroll through the photos. "I'm sending it to myself, that's my new lockscreen."
You rolled your eyes as you chuckled, turning your attention back to your homework. A few seconds later however, you somehow sensed a shift in the atmosphere as you glanced to see what Paige was looking at, only to be faced with a very incriminating photo of yourself wearing practically nothing.
Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you quickly reached out to grab the phone from her hand, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and panic only for her to pull the phone out of your grasp. "I forgot to delete that, sorry-"
"Delete it? Why didn't you send it to me?" Her tone was unusually serious as she glanced up to meet your gaze. "Shit, I mean that was hot."
You wanted to laugh, if this were any situation you'd want to laugh. However, as you met her now very clouded gaze, you felt your stomach flutter in confusion and maybe something... more?
This wasn't the reaction you expected. You were prepared for embarrassment, maybe even some teasing, but not this. Paige's eyes held a seriousness that seemed out of place in the moment.
"Wait, really?" you stammered, trying to gauge her sincerity. "I thought you'd find it weird or something."
Paige leaned back, a small smirk playing on her lips as she studied your reaction. "Weird? No, of course not baby. You look pretty damn good," she took another moment to study the picture as she wet her lips.
You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at Paige's words, her unexpected compliment sending a thrill down your spine. "You think so?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure whether to feel flattered or apprehensive about her sudden change in tone.
Paige's smirk widened into a mischievous grin. "Oh, I know so," she replied, her gaze lingering on the photo before finally meeting yours. "In fact, I think you're hiding a lot more than just this one picture."
Your cheeks flushed even hotter at the implication of her words. You had never imagined Paige seeing you in such a revealing light, let alone expressing such bold admiration. She'd always teased you, you'd been in this relationship (of some sorts) for long enough for this to be normal.
Somehow, this time it felt more personal.
"You really want to see more?" you asked, your voice betraying a mix of nerves and excitement.
"Don't act so shy now, princess. I mean you took these photos and kept them to yourself. You knew exactly what you were doing," Paige teased, her voice laced with amusement as she leaned in closer, her breath grazing your ear.
Her playful tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you. Despite your initial hesitations, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the prospect of sharing more with Paige.
Before you could even process it, her lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. You let out a soft moan in surprise but slowly melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. As her hands roamed over your body, you felt a rush of desire coursing through your veins, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of her touch.
Your homework and laptop were long forgotten as she pulled you into her lap. Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of bruises in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as you arched into her touch, craving more of her intoxicating touch.
"Paige, please," you whined as she hummed in response. You began to grind yourself against her sweats, your whole body shaking in pure need.
She pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire as she met your gaze. "Yes, princess? Please what?" she teased, her voice husky with need.
"I want you," you breathed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation. All you knew was that you needed her to absolutely ruin you.
With a hungry smirk, Paige captured your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. Suddenly, she pushed you back against the bed as you whimpered with need.
Paige found herself in between your legs as she pulled off your silk pajama shorts and then your underwear. You moaned at the sight, your head falling back as she pulled your legs on her shoulders and quickly got to work.
As soon as her tongue met your wet folds, you were already ruined. You moaned at the sensation as your eyes shut, gripping the sheets beneath you. Paige kept gripped your thighs as her tongue delved into your cunt, your whole body seizing up in utter pleasure.
"Fuck," she mumbled into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body. You finally met her gaze as you moaned, her hand finding yours, interlacing your fingers with hers.
Paige took her time, slowly licking up and down you as if you were most delicate thing in the world (and you were ─ at least, in her world).
You arched into her mouth as you felt yourself draw closer and closer to an orgasm, your eyes shutting once again. Paige's tongue began to flick against your clit as you let out a shocked moan, your other hand finding her hair.
"Please, please don't stop. Fuck, P," you babbled on as her tongue began moving faster and faster. "I'm gonna cum, please,"
"Cum on my tongue, princess, let it out," she murmured into your pussy as the knot in your stomach snapped. "Good girl, fuck,"
Paige watched you hungrily as you moaned, your legs wrapped around her head as you came. She closed her eyes as she helped you ride out your high, her hands gripping your hips as you caught your breath.
Paige got out from between your legs and pulled you into a bruising kiss. Your hands found her hair in a lazy attempt to keep her close, your lips moving in sync with hers as the intensity of the kiss deepened. The world around you faded into oblivion as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, consumed by the passion that pulsed between you.
"Mm, I love you," you mumbled into the kiss as she let out a small laugh. She pulled away to really take in your fucked-out state; your messy hair, your half-lidded eyes, your bruised lips. God, she was so whipped.
"I love you too, sweet girl," Paige whispered, her voice filled with adoration as she caressed your cheek, her thumb tracing the curve of your lips.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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cupid-styles · 3 days
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I don't know if the requests are still open but I'd love a check up on tattoo artist harry cause I just love them so much 🥰🥰
proud (tattoorry/plugrry)
this was originally a patreon exclusive but I've had it in my drafts for months bc I really wanted to share it here!! so here it is! a little wholesome check-in with our cutie pie couple
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word count: 2.4k
content warnings: minor mentions of mental health conditions including anxiety, depression, and trauma
only angel (tattoorry/plugrry) masterlist
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“Harry?”
Y/N’s gnawing on the skin of her bottom lip as she wrings her hands in her lap, nervousness apparent on her facial features. Harry glances up from his phone — he’s been mindlessly scrolling through cat videos on Instagram for the past half an hour or so, Friends on in the background as he and Y/N sit snuggled up in cozy throw blankets. 
She’d been working up the courage to say something for nearly two hours now, but everytime she went to part her lips and force the words out of her throat, she clammed up.
She couldn’t help the anxiety that crept through her bones, especially because she was used to constantly being looked down on. She knows Harry would never make her feel bad for any choice she made for herself, but what if he thought she was crazy? What if her trauma was too much to deal with? These were the worries that circulated her brain for days, ever since deciding that she wanted to seek out professional mental health help a few weeks ago.
“Hm?” he puts his phone down, locking the screen, “What’s up, dovie?”
Fidgeting with the skin surrounding her chipped nail polish, she swallows tightly. His eyes are analyzing her body language and she suddenly feels small and foolish beneath his gaze, solely because of the trauma from her parents.
They always treated her like she was less than, to the point where she wholeheartedly, truly believed it. In the few months that Y/N’s been on her own and officially dating Harry, he’s been helping her in ways she could have never imagined, but she didn’t want all of her issues to fall on him. It’s the main reason why she decided to find a therapist. 
“I’ve been thinking,” she rasps out, her voice cracking. “I think I’m going to start seeing a counselor. To deal with my, um… parents.”
Harry’s posture straightens and his eyebrows furrow, a concerned wrinkle forming between them. (It always showed up when Y/N mentioned anything relating to her family.) 
“What do you mean?” 
Rolling her lips into her mouth, she prepares the speech she’s been practicing in her head for days. 
“I just know I have a lot of trauma from them and I don’t want you to feel responsible for helping me through it all the time,” she says, reciting the explanation word-for-word, “It’s important for me to figure this out on my own and I want it to come from a mental health professional.”
Harry's look of worry almost instantly morphs into a gentle smile. He reaches out to intertwine their fingers together and gives her hand a small squeeze, much to Y/N’s relief. She was terrified he’d take it the wrong way, but the proud expression on his face says different. 
“That’s incredible, dovie. I’m so proud of you.” 
He leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead, the showcase of love instantly slowing her heartbeat. 
“You’re not mad?” she asks, peering up at him through thick eyelashes. 
“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “I could never be mad at you for wanting to work on yourself. I think it’ll be really helpful for you. Have you found someone yet?”
“No. I wanted to run it past you before looking.”
His heart cracks a bit but he tries not to let it show on his face. “You never have to do that, okay? You’re your own person, baby, and I have no right to tell you what to do with your life. Alright?”
It’s a strange way to look at life after having every decision of her life planned out for her since birth. She’s still adjusting — that much is obvious, but it isn’t her fault, and Harry works regularly to help her realize that in small doses. 
“Would you maybe help me find a person?” Y/N peeps out, playing with his fingers in her lap. Her eyes are set on their hands, still too nervous to look at him face-to-face. Harry, though he has no experience looking for therapists himself, still nods enthusiastically, willing to help her take whatever steps she needs. 
“Why don’t you grab your laptop?” he suggests. She reaches forward to pull it off the coffee table before Harry wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. She makes a soft ah!, surprised by his sudden movements, which of course results in a small, snarky smile on his end. 
Shuffling so the laptop is in his lap now, he opens it, has her put her password in, and searches up “therapists near me.” His eyes float to the nervous girl beside him, who’s taken up gnawing on her fingernails as he clicks on the first result. It’s a directory of mental health professionals close to them where you can filter by specialities, insurance, and other preferences. 
“Okay, dovie,” he croons gently, “What are you looking for in particular? Someone to help with stress?” 
She shrugs. “Um, maybe something a bit more. Maybe… anxiety? A-and family stuff?”
“That’s a good starting point,” he encourages, clicking on the appropriate filters. Immediately, a number of therapists that originally showed up disappear, but it still leaves them with a decent amount to scroll through. “Anything else? Do you have a preference on gender or how far they are from us?”
“I think I want a woman,” she says before glancing up at him with worried eyes, “Is that okay?”
“Of course it is.”
He clicks the “female” preference, resulting in around 15 options for them to look at. She continues biting her nail as Harry scrolls down. He periodically hovers over someone, asking her if she’d like to look at them more. She’ll either nod or shake her head, but in the event of the former, he’ll open their profile in a separate tab. 
Eventually, they narrow it down to three but one isn’t actively taking new clients, so it’s between Leanna, who looks to be around Harry’s mom’s age and is located 20 minutes from Y/N’s apartment, and Madeline, a younger woman with experience in a myriad of mental health concerns. 
Quietly, Y/N alternates between the two tabs, contemplating and comparing their experiences. He can tell that she’s having difficulty picking, but he doesn’t want to say anything to sway her in one direction over the other — he wants this to fully be her choice. 
“I think I like Madeline.” she says, looking up at her boyfriend. Her eyes are slightly rounded, lips parted as if she’s waiting for approval from Harry. 
“Sounds like a good choice, dove. How’d you settle on her?”
Y/N shrugs her shoulders, scrolling down on her profile page. “Well, she has experience with anxiety, depression, and trauma… and I’ve been reading a bit online, and I think I do have some trauma from my parents, so…”
Harry nods, smoothing her hair comfortingly. 
“And I like that she seems like she’s closer in age to us… it might make me feel more comfortable, like I’m talking to a friend,” she explains. He hums in agreement. “She also has a cat at her office, which I really like, too.”
He chuckles and leans over to nose at her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. 
“I think those are all great reasons,” he murmurs.
He won’t admit it tonight because he doesn’t want her to get too nervous, especially if she ultimately decides she’s too scared to go, but he’s infinitely proud of her right now. He’s contemplated bringing up therapy to her for the past few months, particularly right after he helped her move out of her parents’ home.
The fact that she came to that decision herself is enough for him to feel over the moon, his chest swelling with pride. Even if she backs out at the last minute, at the very least, he knows she’s trying her best, and that’s all he could ever ask of her. 
“Why don’t you email her and send your information?” Harry suggests lightly, breaking Y/N out of her own trance of thinking. With a swallow, she nods, clicking on the little mail symbol next to Madeline’s name. 
He watches as she composes an email, her fingers stuttering over the keys every few minutes. He can tell that she’s over-thinking on what to say, but she eventually settles on a short, to-the-point message: Hi Madeline, my name is Y/N and I was interested in seeing you for therapy. Are you taking on new clients at the moment?
“Great,” Harry blurts out once she presses ‘send’. She looks up at him. “You did great.” he amends, a light blush flowering over his cheeks. 
All she does is smile and bury herself into his chest. 
. . .
“Here, why don’t you wear this to your appointment?”
Y/N thinks that Harry may be even more nervous for her first therapy session than she is. 
Although she’s busying around her apartment, getting her things together in preparation for her 11 am appointment, Harry’s movements are just as jerky and anxious. She’s currently looking for her favorite comfy sweatshirt when he suddenly peels off the fuzzy cardigan he’s wearing, handing it to her. It’s the one he bought on sale at Urban Outfitters a few weeks back when they had some time off from work and school. They’d been traipsing through the shops nearby with no intention of actually buying something, but Harry had said that he liked how it felt like a teddy bear. 
“Oh, but you’re already wearing that,” Y/N says with a pout, shaking her head. “It’s okay, I’ll find something else—”
“No, I want you to wear it,” he insists. “Maybe it’ll help make you feel more comfortable? Having something of mine?”
She blinks, slowly reaching out to accept it from his grasp. “What will you wear though?”
“I think I’ve left a few sweatshirts here,” he says, popping up from his seat on the edge of her bed. “Don’t you have that little drawer with all my stuff?”
She nods. It hadn’t really been an intentional thing, but when she told Lucy about it, she explained to her that it was kind of a big deal. Apparently, having a drawer at your significant other’s apartment meant that you were moving in the direction of living together, but Y/N didn’t see it that way. It was more for the sake of convenience, especially if Harry came over after work and decided to stay over instead of heading back to his place.
She walks over to her dresser and yanks open the top drawer. It’s filled to the brim with tee-shirts, sweatshirts, and two pairs of sweatpants, all of which belong to Harry. She glances over at him, embarrassed, and he laughs. 
“Geez, dovie, think you’re a bit obsessed with me,” he teases, grabbing one of the hoodies. She rolls her eyes. 
“You’re the one that leaves this stuff here all the time!” 
“Yeah, but it looks like you’re building some kind of shrine—”
“Oh, shush!” she says, pulling his cardigan on. She’ll admit, the fabric is heavenly, and the fact that it smells like Harry is a massive added bonus. “Are you still fine to drive me?”
He nods quickly once he has his sweatshirt on, grabbing his car keys. “Ready when you are, baby.”
He makes her take a granola bar and a water bottle on her way out, both of them bidding Lucy a goodbye when they exit the apartment. Y/N has a bad habit of not wanting to eat when she’s nervous, but Harry can guarantee that her stomach will start rumbling as soon as she’s done with today’s session. 
They climb into the familiarity of Harry’s car, Y/N taking her usual seat on the passenger’s side. She hasn’t driven much since cutting off communication with her parents. Obviously, she left the car they bought her, and she doesn’t have enough money in her savings to buy another one, even if it’s used or a lease.
Since she didn’t get the job at the bookstore, she’s been looking for other part-time opportunities on campus but nothing’s come up yet. Harry offered to get her some work at the shop, but she felt too weird about having her boyfriend pay her for silly tasks like cleaning up and scheduling appointments. 
Madeline’s office isn’t too far away, and Harry took the morning off to take her. He said — quote — “I’m clearing my schedule, dovie — no appointments, meetings, and certainly no drug deals!”. (That had made Y/N snort over the Chinese food they shared for dinner a few nights ago.) 
The drive is mainly quiet, save for Harry’s quiet music playing in the background. She’s nervous and fidgety in her seat so he reaches over to intertwine their fingers together, giving her hand a small squeeze in her lap. It makes her feel a little bit better, but she wishes Harry could go to her appointment with her. 
When they arrive, Harry pulls into a parking space just outside the door. They have 10 minutes before her session officially starts, but Madeline had asked if she could get there a bit early to fill out some paperwork. 
“Feel okay?” Harry asks, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair. She nods, even though her heart is hammering in her ribs. “You’re gonna do great, dovie. I’ll be here as soon as you’re done.”
“Okay,” she breathes, watching as the clock ticks one minute closer to 11. She swallows harshly and unbuckles her seatbelt, grabbing her bag from the floor of Harry’s car. “I'll be done by 11:45, right?”
“11:45, baby. I’ll be right here.”
“Okay. Alright.” 
He leans over to smear a quick kiss to her cheek and she smiles gently, though it doesn’t completely reach her eyes. She gets out of the car and straightens her posture, pulling Harry's cardigan tighter over her form, and winds around the front to walk in the direction of the front door. 
It’s only then that Harry rolls down his window, despite the wet, dewy chill of the morning. 
“Wait, Y/N!”
She turns around, an expression of confusion painting her features. 
“I’m so proud of you!” he exclaims. He can see her blush from his spot in the car, a wide, toothy grin appearing on her face. “I’m so proud of you, and I love you so much.”
She mouths it back — I love you too — this time with a smile that lights up her entire face. She waves her fingers with one more goodbye before taking a deep breath and walking into the office building. 
Harry can’t stop grinning to himself.
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Text
Toxic!Rafe Cameron x reader
Sinopse: When rafe’s jealousy leads to yn being locked in the Cameron’s wine cellar
Warnings:Toxic Relationships,Psychological Abuse,Confinement/Imprisonment
Intense Jealous, Emotional Manipulation, Control Issues Disturbing Themes
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I could hear the lock click behind me, echoing in the dim, musty air of the Cameron's wine cellar. The chill seeped through my thin dress, making my skin prickle as I realized what had just happened. Rafe had locked me in.
"Rafe!" I banged on the heavy wooden door, my voice rising in panic. "This isn't funny! Let me out!"
Silence.
I pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from the other side. Nothing but the distant hum of the air conditioner. My heart pounded in my chest, the reality of the situation settling in. Rafe had lost it. Again.
"Rafe!" I screamed, my fists pounding harder. "Open the fucking door! This is insane!"
Finally, I heard his footsteps approaching. The door didn't open, but his voice came through, cold and infuriatingly calm.
"Why should I, Y/N?" he asked, the sneer evident in his tone even through the thick wood. "So you can run off to see him again?"
"What are you talking about?, who’s him?" I demanded, my voice cracking with frustration. "I haven't seen anyone! You're making things up in your head!"
“You know, sweetheart… I’m a proactive type of p-p-person, and when we have a problem, we have to resolve it before it gets worse… DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” He shouts
"Rafe... I don't know what's happening. I'm scared. Please let me out..."
"Oh, really?" he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Then explain why you were so cozy with Topper at the party. Whispering, l-laughing. Do you think I'm b-blind?..DO YOU THINK YN??” he banged on the door with force, and I flinched back in fear.
I clenched my fists, trying to keep my anger in check. "Rafe, it wasn't like that. We were just talking. You know how he is, always joking around…plus you know he still loves Sarah” I say
"You expect me to believe that?" he shot back. "I've seen the way that motherfucker looks at you. Like he wants to take you away from me,so don’t worry he don’t even think about my damn sister anymore”
"This is ridiculous," I muttered, feeling tears of frustration prick at my eyes. "Rafe, you can't keep doing this. You can't keep locking me up whenever you get jealous. It's not right."
"I can do whatever I want,"he said “ and y-y-you know why?” his voice hardening. "You're mine, y/n..no one else's. And if I have to lock you up to keep you safe from people like him, then so be it.”
I slumped against the door, my energy draining away. "Rafe, please. I love you, but this... this isn't love. It's control. You need to trust me."
"Trust you?" He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. ". Trust is for the naive doll, people like you… you’ll say anything to get your way…I trusted Sarah once, and look where that got me. She betrayed me. Everyone betrays me."
"I'm not Sarah," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I would never hurt you like that."
There was a long pause, and for a moment, I thought I had gotten through to him. But then he spoke again, his voice softer, almost pleading.
"Then prove it," he said. "Stay here. Show me that you belong to me and no one else."
"Rafe, this isn't the way," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "You can't lock me up and expect me to be happy. Please, let me out. We can talk about this. We can work through it together."
Another long silence. I held my breath, hoping against hope that he would see reason.
"Fine," he said at last, his voice resigned. "I'll let you out. But remember this, if you ever betray me, if you ever give me a reason to doubt you again, it won't be the cellar next time. It'll be something much worse.”
As the lock clicked open, a rush of relief flooded through me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the intensity of his embrace. He pulled me into him with such force that it felt like my ribs might crack under the pressure.
“You have to understand, doll" he murmured, his voice strained with emotion. "I only do this because I love you. I can't bear the thought of losing you, of someone else taking you away from me. You're mine,and I'll do whatever it takes to protect what's mine."
His words were like a twisted lullaby, laced with possessiveness and control. I wanted to believe him, to believe that his actions stemmed from love, but deep down, I knew it wasn't right.
"I love you too, Rafe," I whispered, my voice trembling with uncertainty. "But locking me up like this... it's not the answer."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine for reassurance. "I know it seems extreme, but it's the only way I can keep you safe, y/n. You have to trust me on this."
I nodded, though doubt still lingered in the back of my mind. His grip on me softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his touch both comforting and suffocating all at once.
“We'll get through this together," he said, his voice a mixture of determination and possessiveness. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never let anything or anyone come between us again."
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chvoswxtch · 2 days
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hi my love, my sweetness!! congrats again on 4K you deserve it so much and I love youuu!!
I know the cafe is technically closed but I thought maybe if I flirt a bit with the owner, who’s such an amazing lovely person who writes excellent fics, I thought I might be able to order a drink or two (only if there’s time and of course fine if not<3)
so could I order a macchiato over ice for Frank or Hotch. how would they be/react if they saw you in their clothes? I think both are so territorial and like daddies and if they saw you just in their sweatshirt or jacket or whatnot in a completely innocent situation they’d lose it. Let’s not even get started on at home or bedroom related
love you thank you for sharing your writing with us <333
SWEET BABY D!!!!
oh i've missed you so. thank you so much my sweet. you can order anything you want <3
sjdkshdsjkd do you know how absolutely feral hotch would go if he came home after a shitty week & saw you wearing one of his dress shirts bc i'm going feral just thinking about it so let me paint you a lil picture
as a reminder, over ice means it's spicy ! (minors dni)
headcannon below the cut
aaron hotchner likes you in his clothes
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let me set the scene for ya. it's been a long week for our bau daddy, dealing with narcissistic psycho killers & keeping all his kids in line (the rest of the bau), & the frustrations are high when he finally steps off the jet. he doesn't even stay back to handle the mountain of paperwork waiting for him, that's how fed up he is
when he finally makes it home, it's well after midnight, & he's so tired he doesn't even wanna take a nice hot shower like he usually does to unwind. he just wants to fall into bed & let the exhaustion take over
but when he passes by the kitchen, he instantly freezes, bc there you are standing by the counter, having a lil midnight snack (eating ice cream straight out of the tub), wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts. and when I say nothing, I mean hotch can tell you are wearing absolutely nothing underneath
his eyes quickly darken with pure lust & his cock is already half hard when he stalks over towards you with determined steps
the spoon is still in your mouth when you notice him, a smile stretching across your lips around it before you lick off the sweet remnants & slip it out of your mouth
"hey, how was the c-"
you don't even get a chance to finish that sentence bc hotch cuts you off by grabbing the back of your neck to capture your mouth in a heated kiss & he does not hold anything back as he pushes you up against the counter
his kiss is aggressive & needy, & the muffled moan that escapes you tastes delicious on his tongue. his fingers make quick work of unbuttoning the few buttons you'd had done, but he doesn't push it off your shoulders. oh no, he wants you to keep it on
his hands roam over your newly exposed skin, greedily grabbing at your breasts to squeeze them roughly, his thumb & index fingers toying with your sensitive nipples knowing it'll get you all riled up for him, & the sounds you make let him know it's working
he grabs your hand & guides it to his belt, & without hesitation you follow his silent command, your nimble fingers unbuckling it while he sheds his suit jacket & tie
in a flash he swiftly spins you around & bends you over the counter, bunching the bottom of his shirt up around your hips, & he spreads your legs further apart with his foot
he wastes no time pushing forward, burying his cock deep without warning, his hand quickly covering your mouth to contain your sharp moan. his other hand has a bruising grip on your hip as he leans forward & hisses in your ear
"be quiet."
the sensation of your warm, tight walls completely enveloping his cock makes his brain go blank. he can't focus on anything else other than how good you feel. he immediately begins snapping his hips, fucking you hard & fast while grunting in your ear
with every powerful thrust, the stress & tension built up in his body from this week starts to fade, & the pleasure rapidly builds. even though he's chasing a much needed release, he's not selfish, so he slips his hand between your thighs & begins to strum swift circles over your clit with two of his fingers
he lets out a quiet, wrecked groan in your ear when he feels your pussy start to contract around him, the muffled moans against his palm only heightening his arousal. as badly as he wants to hear you fall apart, he doesn't wanna wake up jack
when he feels your body seize up as you come, hotch squeezes his eyes shut & lets out a strangled groan, gripping your waist tightly with both hands as his hips start to stutter
"fuck fuck fuck."
he comes hard, spilling deep within your snug walls, emptying himself completely. the way your cunt continues to contract around his cock milks him of every drop he has to offer, & it makes him let out a shuddering breath
placing both of his palms down on the counter to steady himself, he buries his face into your hair, panting heavily. if he wasn't exhausted before, he sure as hell is now, but he's definitely more calm. a breathless laugh leaves your lips before you speak
"well, hello to you too."
letting out a breathless chuckle of his own, hotch smiles & wraps one of his arms around your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your neck
"sorry, hi."
reaching one of your hands back to caress his face with your hand, you hum softly with a grin
"missed me that much, huh?"
leaning into your gentle touch, hotch's smile turns into a full blown grin
"always. but I have to say, I love your choice in pajamas tonight."
glancing down at yourself, it clicks that seeing you in his shirt is what set hotch off, & a devilish smirk spreads across your lips
"i'll keep that in mind. sir."
in conclusion if you hear screaming from across the world it is me
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syrupyy · 2 days
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Vivian finally being out as trans in the new Paper Mario remake hit me like a truck and it took me a while to fully understand why (light spoilers for chapter 2)
it's like.. I don't know how to describe it. I play a lot of indie games and I've gotten used to many of them having the full array of LGBTQ+ representation, and at this point I look at it and smile and then move on
with a huge corporation who has everything to lose like Nintendo, it feels like an entirely different world. here, I step back into this game I've owned on disc since I was a kid, and everything's the same if not slightly better... and then I start noticing the changes, one by one. picking up all the little clues, when suddenly I get to this line
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I had already been spoiled on her full confession by Twitter, but... when I saw even this much with my own two eyes, it felt like something that had been hiding in my mind for 12 years just leapt out. the subtext is now text. the characters of this world that I've thought about all this time, that I would doodle in my notebooks, that I used to read so much fanfiction about... are canonically going through the same real struggles as me and so many others I know
and I just felt... seen. like, as if I'm finally allowed to be a real person, like I'm not crazy for telling people to use gender neutral terms around me, like I'm truly nonbinary and not just in writing
I never really talk about my gender identity in public because I've never had that validation telling me that it's not just in my head. my friends will reassure me, my mom won't hate me for it... but at the end of it all, Nintendo raised me since I was three years old, and that was a pillar of my life whose approval I never expected to have
so when I saw this, I just... sat there, staring, for a full minute. processing these emotions I never even realized I had. it's just one little sentence in a 30 hour long video game, it shouldn't mean that much, but... it did to me. the writers actually cared. they stuck their faces out the window that is the trans experience and they came back and rewrote the script to match. they left the Fire Emblem toad the same, not even changing "GBA" to "Switch" or "3DS", but they knew to change this
thank you, Vivian. I understand how you feel now
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slushycoookie · 1 day
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Miguel is losing it...
He's paying too much attention to you.
Without having any spider senses, he's learned to be hyper-aware of his surroundings. Focusing on anyone's movements. Unfortunately, that means with you too.
A friendship budding into something more in Miguel’s heart. He notices everything about you. Your nice eyes glitter when you see a thing you like. The way they trace his built frame whenever he crosses your vision. Your fingers brushing an object of his; his shirt, his suit, his hands. You were a touchy person.
When you drink something and share it with him, he tries to lower the uptick in his beating heart. Your lips were on that cup. If he drinks at the same spot where your lips were, would it be like an indirect kiss? That's pathetic. He decides to drink as far away from where your lips were.
Miguel couldn’t escape the taste of you when it came to food. You like to feed him, he didn't understand why. Something about sharing with friends brings you joy. And he wants to make you happy.
You feed him like an infant, holding the utensil to his lips to taste whatever you have to share. Miguel always gazes directly at you whenever he takes a bite. Savoring the mix of food and you around his tongue. How he wishes to get more of you through a kiss. But that would blur the line of friendship and evolve into something more.
The worst part is when you go to hug him. Your body flushed against his own. Miguel rarely gets touched like this. He couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged him willingly. He wonders if he should ask you to stop because his body can't take it. It gets hot, a little sweaty, and he wants to do more than embrace you.
“You're killing me.” He mutters right when you pull away.
Miguel didn't mean for the words to slip out, but you heard it anyway. “What? What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He leaves abruptly to calm down, not giving you room to respond. Those weren't the best words to say, but it was the truth. You were killing him. Eating away at his resolve by smiling at him, hugging him, feeding him. Your entire existence was destroying him. Becoming his downfall.
Of course, you weren’t going to let it slide. He noticed your call later that night. He wasn't going to pick up, ignore you by burying himself in his work. Yet he answers.
“Hey,” You start, your soothing voice causing his tense muscles to relax. “What was that earlier? You left all of a sudden.”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, “It was nothing.”
“Yeah, you said that.” You force out a laugh to try and lighten the mood. “It didn't seem like it was nothing though. You usually don't leave like that without saying something.”
Miguel wanted to confess. Say it was because of you. How you're creating the turmoil in his head. Why he was focusing on every single thing you do and say to him. His silence was enough of an answer for you as you continued.
“Was it because of what I did? The hug? I know we just started hugging recently if that's what made you uncomfortable-”
“No.” He cut you off, “Don't stop doing that.” The word ‘please’ was about to slip off the tip of his tongue, like a plea but he resisted.
“Are you going to storm off every time I hug you?”
“No.” He insists, “That was a one-time thing. I promise.”
“You promise, huh? That’s serious…”
Miguel bites his bottom lip, holding back his amusement. “I keep my promises.”
“Prove it then.” He hears you shuffling behind the phone, “We need a do-over on that hug.”
“You serious?” He glances over at the clock on his screen, almost midnight. “It’s late.”
“So? You should’ve thought about that when you stormed off earlier. Now, you gotta pay.”
Miguel huffs. He wasn’t going to go back and forth with you this late. Better to do a quick hug, in and out after a couple of minutes. “Fine.”
He drops into your bedroom. You leap at his presence, not expecting that.
“What the-why did you arrive in my room?”
“You said you wanted a hug, right?”
“I did but not in my room.”
Miguel rolls his eyes, “What difference does it make? Do you want one or not?”
You pout and he tries not to stare at how nice your lips look. He pulls you into his arms once you get out of bed. Usually, you're the one initiating it but not this time. He holds back from focusing on how you feel. How smaller you were compared to him. The way your arms fit around his waist perfectly. Like you were made for him and him alone.
He notices your smile of satisfaction at meeting your quota of hugs for the day. And he just can't take it anymore.
“I'm in love with you.”
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A/N: Love writing about Miguel losing his mind
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lxkeee · 3 days
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HEAVEN AND BACK!
—CHAPTER THREE
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Angel! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Romance, love at first sight.
Warnings: none.
Notes: sorry it took awhile, I got lazy lmfao. Also, I listened to caramelldansen when writing this.
CH. ONE | CH. TWO | CH. FOUR | NAV.
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It has been a few days since Alastor's mother decided to stay at the hotel, the woman fits right in perfectly with the sinners in the hotel.
Almost.
The angelic woman couldn't get a chance to get to know better hell's very own King, Lucifer.
As Alastor always tries to come in between her and the man.
Is this what Adam called "Cock blocking?" She heard the man say that before and before Adam could explain it to her, Emily explained that it's something where 'You try to talk to someone but somehow there's something or someone stopping you from doing so?' that's what the girl said but did also tell her to not use that term.
How strange.
She sighs, running a hand through her [h/c] locks, careful not to accidentally scratch her own deer antlers. The woman is currently in her 'demon' form, large deer like antlers that are on top of her head, she made sure not to wear bright colors and instead chose to wear something on the darker shades of red, her wings are hidden while her halo was transformed into a golden necklace that hung around her neck.
She rests a leg on top of her other leg as she sits on one of the many cushioned chairs of the hotel, she looks down from the second floor balcony, getting a good view of the hotel's lobby.
“Pray tell, what really brings you here in hell oh dear mother of mine?” Alastor asked beside her, standing beside the seat she sat on, his hand holding his cane-like microphone, he looked at his mother with a grin, though, a confused look in his eyes. He knows his mother, he got his personality from her after all.
Like mother, like son.
[Y/n] giggled, “Overseeing this hotel's progress, isn't that an enough reason to be here?” she answers, eyes closed with a gentle smile on her face. Her eyes opened to see her son's disbelief smile.
Alastor tilted his head slightly, grin widening, “I doubt that is the reason, I was so sure that the celestial realm denied Charlie's plans so,” he says, pausing a bit as he hummed to himself as if he was thinking, “—I was rather surprised that heaven decided to change their minds.” he says with a smirk.
He knows she's hiding something.
[Y/n] can't help but let the sides of her lips twitch upwards to a slight smirk. Clever boy. She thought to herself.
With a defeated sigh, she chuckled after, “There is a reason but heaven cannot disclose that yet. That is the only thing I can tell you.” she explained before raising an eyebrow at him, “Is that an enough reason?”
Alastor tilted his head slightly, his smile widened, humming as he thought to himself, “Hmm... I supposed that is an enough reason and I should stop bothering my mother about it.” he says with a smirk.
[Y/n] playfully rolls her eyes at her son, eyes fixated down below to the lobby of the hotel, [e/c] eyes focused on a certain blond fallen angel who's currently drinking a glass of wine at the bar area.
“Enough of that, I would like to ask you why do you keep on trying to stop me from interacting with him?” She asked, head turning away from the scene below and once more looked at Alastor whose smile had slightly lowered in annoyance, a small scoff leaving past his lips.
“Do I really need to give you a reason, dear mother of mine?” Alastor asked, tilting his head, his voice sounding almost a grimace thinking about the shorter man making moves on her.
[Y/n] just raises her eyebrow at him, a small hum escaping her lips, “Please do.”
Alastor hums, dark red eyes looking down on the folks currently in the lobby, “He's a man, mother. In fact, he's the king of hell. I don't trust him.” he grumbles, the smile on his face is gone and is now replaced with a small frown.
[Y/n]'s face softened, she knows her son's disapproval in men, especially if said men have an interest in her. Her last marriage was a failure and filled with pain and Alastor was by her side through it all.
She can understand why he hesitates, why he tries to put distance between her and the men that come to her life.
"Alastor, sweetheart. Don't worry about me,” She says softly, a small gentle smile on her face. Her eyes closing and opening as she glanced at the people down below, her smile widened as she saw sinners mingled with one another.
She's glad. She's glad that there are souls who are willing to try and earn redemption.
And she's here to guide them.
Alastor looked at his mother, his usual grin now back on his face.
“Besides, the man seems nice. It must be lonely being the first fallen angel.” she says softly, she can't imagine the pain Lucifer must've dealt with. She read about him when she was in heaven, she was curious about the first fallen angel and the heavenly libraries were filled with eons and eons of information and she read everything she can about him. Sera even warned her in case she turns to heresy and Sera made sure to remind her to keep her loyalty to heaven and avoid getting influenced by him.
Alastor hums, “I suppose,” he says with a small nod before giving his mother a side eye, “Though, I don't think I'll be comfortable with the possibility of calling him...” he paused and gave a small gag, “—father.” he says with disgust.
[Y/n] chuckles, “Me? Marrying the king of hell? What an ambitious dream would that be.” she says with a small laugh, flicking her hand sassily.
“I just want to be his friend, the man seems like he hasn't formed any meaningful relationships during his life.” she says with a small giggle and Alastor had to fight back from laughing, “Indeed, he has not.” he agrees with a small chuckle.
“Don't be mean, I didn't raise you like that.” [Y/n] chuckles, elbowing her son on his side which made Alastor let a small grunt before pouting at her, “Apologies.” he says, tone clearly not genuine which [Y/n] can clearly tell.
She sighs exasperatedly.
Alastor chuckles his eyes closing before opening once more to look at his beloved mother, “Oh and another thing,” he spoke, [Y/n] looked at him a quirked eyebrow, a small hum escaping her lips, “Hmm?”
“I would like to express my gratitude in what you have down to the hotel's garden, you've brought life to this godforsaken place. I am sure these sinners haven't seen any kind of greenery ever since they have died.” Alastor grins, his eyes darkened from amusement over the misery of these loathsome sinners.
[Y/n] chuckles, though, questioning where she went wrong in raising him.
“It was nothing, I thought the hotel needed a little green that's all! All of these reds are hurting my eyes.” she says glancing at Alastor with a judgemental look in her eyes.
Alastor just rolls his eyes at her which earned him another harsh elbow to the sides.
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Lucifer was admiring the lush garden of the hotel's backyard, he has never seen such greenery before—he did but it was eons ago when he was still divine, but it was eons ago and has already forgotten what it looked like—a large willow tree at the side just by the door to the hotel, the once dried up fountain at the center is now back and running, multiple plants surrounded the area and grass, good heavens, he doesn't remember when was the last time he touched grass.
He doesn't know when was the last time you touched grass, dear reader. Go out sometimes, it'll be good for you.
What was he thinking again? Ah, grass.
‘I broke the fourth wall? You're just seeing things, sweetheart.’ he thought in amusement, eyes staring off somewhere as if looking at something... Or someone.
He just chuckled in amusement before walking towards one of the bushes of roses, the heels of his shoes clicked against the pebbled pathway and he stopped in front of a bush of white roses, the fragrance of the flower immediately filling his nose.
It's been so long. He forgot what roses smell like.
Lucifer's eyes sparkled in awe, his wine red like eyes filled with wonder, his right gloved hand gently caressing the petal of a white rose, feeling its softness—just one of the few species of flowers that bloomed in hell for the first time.
“Do you like it?” a feminine voice spoke out—a voice familiar to Lucifer, a voice belonging to a certain radio demon's mother, the silkiness of her voice—it made Lucifer shudder, “I thought the garden looked bare, I thought some greenery would fix it.” [Y/n] chuckles softly.
Lucifer turns around and sees [Y/n] standing behind him, her hands behind her back. The red knee length dress hugged her curves perfectly—it stole Lucifer's breath away, she's gorgeous.
He chuckles, placing his right hand back to his cane, “Indeed, it has been quite long since I've seen such beautiful flowers.” he says, his voice filled with longing and a hint of sadness that [Y/n] didn't fail to notice but decided not to point it out, “They are lovely, I am grateful for being presented with another opportunity to see such beautiful flowers.” he spoke softly, irises glancing at the flowers briefly before looking back at the taller woman.
[Y/n] chuckles softly, “It's a pleasure,” she says with a small smile, taking slow steps as she walked by his side.
“It was fun growing them and an honor to give the princess of hell her own garden of flowers.” she says with a slight chuckle.
“And with that, I am forever grateful.” Lucifer says with a small smile, eyes shining briefly and for once, it's not dull.
[Y/n] was glad to see the shine on his beautiful eyes, and also seeing a genuine smile on the man's face.
After all, you're never fully dressed without a smile.
“You are most absolutely welcome, sweetheart.” she says with a grin, amusement dancing in her eyes as the rosy spots on the man's cheeks seem to redden even more.
“Ex-excuse m-me?!” he stammers, the endearment catching him off guard, it has been quite some time since someone called him something so... Affectionate.
[Y/n] tilted her head slightly, a feigned confusion on her face. Who knew the king of hell is quite easy to tease?
“Hmm? Is something the matter?” she asked softly, a hint of playfulness in her voice, “Is the nickname not to your liking? Would you prefer darling instead?” she asked teasingly.
Lucifer has never been more flustered in his entire existence.
“Are you normally this mischievous?” he asked, his hand covering his face while his other hand gripped into his cane.
“Usually I'm more.” she answered honestly with mischief on her lips.
“Of course, you're the mother of a certain radio demon.” he said with an exaggerated sigh making [Y/n] chuckle.
“Speaking of him, where is he? He usually stays by your side.” he deadpans, his hand that was covering his face lowered back to hold his cane, he's been wanting to interact with this woman properly ever since he met her but that damn radio demon kept her away.
[Y/n] hums, “I am not entirely sure, I'm sure he is somewhere around the hotel.” she says with a hum in her voice, glancing at the side to see a certain demonic shadow quickly leaving.
This damn brat, she'll teach him a lesson later.
Lucifer just hums, thank Satan. He can't stand that demon and his annoying grin.
Finally recomposing himself, he grins at her.
“Well then, I hope everyone in the hotel is treating you well? I haven't gotten the chance to ask you as a certain someone kept getting in the way.” he says with a small smile but his voice strained a little when he mentioned a certain someone.
[Y/n] hums softly, leaning down slightly to reach the rose bush, her hand gently caressing the petal of a white rose, “Everyone has been nice so far, I'm glad you asked.” she says cheerfully.
“I'm glad.” he says with grin.
“I am glad too.” she said softly with a grin.
Maybe, hell isn't too bad.
Both of them thought at the same time.
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© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 2 days
Note
hii babesss could you write something about harry fucking yn to ease her nerves/relax because she got home from work stressed and tired and needed a distraction? Love uu
summary: harry helps y/n relax after a stressful day.
words: 1.5k
warnings: SMUT! kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise.
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♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
Yn dragged herself through the front door, feeling completely drained after a long, arduous day at the office. Her briefcase slipped from her hand as she leaned back against the door, letting out an exhausted sigh.
"Rough day, love?" came Harry's concerned voice from the living room.
He appeared in the hallway, his warm green eyes instantly taking in her disheveled state. Without a word, he crossed over and enveloped her in a tender hug. Yn melted into his embrace, the tension already starting to leave her body.
"The worst," she mumbled into his chest. "I'm just so tired, Harry."
"I know, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "But you're home now. Let me take care of you."
He took her hand and led her to the couch, guiding her to sit down. Yn watched as he busied himself lighting some scented candles and dimming the lights.
"There, nice and relaxing," he said with a soft smile. "Why don't you put your feet up?"
Yn did as instructed, curling up on the couch as Harry grabbed a thick blanket from the ottoman.
"This ought to keep you cozy," he said, draping it over her legs. He sat down beside her and began to gently rub her shoulders. "Tell me about your day?"
As Yn recounted the never-ending meetings, the rude clients, the looming deadlines, she could feel the stress slowly melting away under Harry's soothing touch.
"You poor thing," he tsked sympathetically. "No wonder you're so tense. Let me run you a hot bath, that'll really help you unwind."
"Harry, you don't have to-" Yn started, but he cut her off with a fingers against her lips.
"Nonsense, it's no trouble at all," he said firmly. "You just rest here, I'll be back in a tick."
True to his word, Harry returned a few minutes later. "All ready for you, my dear," he declared. "I even put in those bath salts you like."
He helped Yn to her feet and into the bathroom, where the tub was filled with steaming water and fragrant bubbles. Candlelight flickered all around, casting a warm, calming glow.
"Harry…this is wonderful," Yn said, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you."
"Of course, anything for you," he replied warmly. "I'll leave you to relax, but shout if you need anything, alright?"
Alone in the bathroom, Yn slowly undressed and sank into the luxurious heat of the water with a blissful sigh. She closed her eyes and just…breathed, allowing the fragrant steam and soothing warmth to cocoon her utterly.
***
Some time later, Yn emerged from the bathroom, skin tingling and pink from the hot water. She felt worlds better, relaxed yet rejuvenated at the same time. Harry looked up from where he was reclining on the couch, a bright smile breaking over his face.
"There she is! Feeling better, my love?"
"Much better," Yn assured him, crossing over to join him on the couch and nestling into his side. "Thank you for taking such good care of me."
"Always," he said simply, dropping a kiss on her damp hair. "I just hate seeing you so stressed and tense. You work too hard, you know."
"I know," Yn said ruefully. "But I have to admit, after that bath and some quality time with my favorite person, I'm feeling infinitely more relaxed."
She tilted her face up toward his, eyes sparkling. "In fact, I think I could go for a bit more…relaxation," she added with a coy smile.
Harry grinned and pulled her closer. "Why, Mrs. Styles, are you flirting with me?"
"Mmm, maybe a little," Yn giggled, looping her arms around his neck. "Is that okay?"
"More than okay," he murmured huskily, capturing her lips in a slow, heated kiss.
As Harry deepened the kiss, Yn melted against him with a contented hum. This was what she had been wanting all day. To be in the arms of her loving husband, while he held her and kissed her like she deserved.
Harry's hands travelled underneath the oversized t-shirt, feeling the soft flesh of her chest against his fingers, caressing her nipples and swiping his fingers over the hardening bud.
Yn moaned into his mouth, and as soon as her mouth parted open, his tongue swiped against her plush lips, sliding in and licking her tongue. He trailed his hands down, feather-light touches on her stomach till he reached the waistband of the loose shorts, and pulled it loose.
Using the back as leverage, he used one hand against it to move himself on top of her, their lips never parting.
Only when Harry's hand slipped further down, inside her panties to feel her wetness oozing out, did she whimper into his mouth, and he broke the kiss to take a look at his beautiful, pretty and perfect wife, her hooded and lust-blown eyes telling him all he needed to know.
"What do you want, Yn?" he asked, keeping the eye contact as his fingers slipped between her pussy lips, feeling her soft, spongey but puffy clit and giving it a gentle roll between his fingers. She gasped, her lips swollen with their kisses just moments ago.
"I-I need-" she gasped once again, his hand circling around her tight hole, pushing just the tip of his finger in, teasing her.
"You need, hm?" he asked, and the next gasp she released was stolen with another kiss.
"Yes-Har-Harry, I-I need you"
She managed to sputter out, and as soon as she did, he slipped his wet finger in. Her walls clenched around him instantly, her thighs threatening to shut closed if it wasn't for Harry's thick ones between them. He pushed another in, swirling them around and curling them upwards just right to find her sweet g-spot.
"Oh fuck-yes-god yes, harry-" she pleaded, and Harry began kissing down her neck, her collarbones, the top of her breasts. He began fucking her with his fingers, two digits pistoning in and out of her in a pace that made her toes curl against the couch. She held onto his biceps, digging her nails in as he slid down the couch, getting on his knees in front of her.
Before she could protest, (not that she was going to), he darted out his tongue, and flicked it expertly aginst her clit, drawing out a moan from her. She used her other hand to grab his soft curls, and pulled at them softl.y
"Like that, baby?" he asked, and she nodded, biting her upper lip.
"So good, Har-don't stop"
Not that he was going to. He started to flick his tongue faster against her clit, his cold rings brushing against it each time he thrust his fingers fully in. He had kept them on on purpose, and he knew just how much the wet and cold sensation drove her wild.
His lips licked hers, before licking up her labia and sucking on her clit. Her grip on his hair tightened, and she whimpered once again, her back arching off the couch. Her legs couldn't stop themselves either, wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer to her core.
She felt the familiar sensation in her stomach, and she threw her head back. Harry licked, sucked and fucked with more frevor, using every ounce of strength in him to make his girl feel good.
Her breathing increased, her legs wrapping around him tighter as she gave his curls one final rough tug, before falling over the sweet edge, with Harry fucking her faster than ever, milking every ounce of orgasm from his pretty girl.
"Give it to me, yeah-that's it, good girl-"
He praised her, her orgasm riding out in the best way possible. Her breathing began going back to normal, her hold around his neck as well as in her hair loosening.
It was once she had fully relaxed around his fingers, that he pulled them out, licking them and cleaning them up like the sick bastard that he was. He wiped his dirty hands on his sweatpants, falling back on the couch beside her, his jaw aching from the work he had put in, but it was all worth it when he got to see her glow like that.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days
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passenger princess || mackenzie arnold x reader ||
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sometimes, you wish that mackenzie would let you drive.
"come on, we're gonna be late!" you shouted at mackenzie. the two of you both had media to do, and mackenzie had taken all morning getting ready. you thought that she looked absolutely stunning, but you didn't want to get yelled at for missing your required media.
"your chariot awaits," mackenzie said as she opened the passenger's side door for you.
"mac, babe, i love you, but i think that i should drive today," you tried to tell her. it was really no use because mackenzie obviously didn't want to listen. she always got like this whenever you suggested driving the two of you somewhere.
you had grown up in the city, and while mackenzie had been there for a good amount of time, she wasn't a local. mackenzie didn't know all of the shortcuts and side roads that would cut your travel time down by a third. and so, the two of you truged into the training facilities about 10 minutes late.
"sorry boss, traffic was horrible." mackenzie was quick to diffuse your coach and the media team's ire towards the two of you. they didn't seem too annoyed with mackenzie, but that same courtesy wasn't extended towards you. mac was their world class goalkeeper, and you were just another midfielder that they had gotten cheap. you had come up with a team that had come up during a relegation swap. whenever they went right back down the next season, you had joined west ham instead.
"we could have gotten here sooner if someone would have let me drive," you said. a few of your teammates started snickering behind you, as did mackenzie. you turned to glare at all of them, but the look that you sent your girlfriend was a bit more hurt.
"don't take it personally babe, but you're just not the driving type. you look too pretty in my passenger's seat." mackenzie was trying to be sweet, but it didn't work. she placed her fingers underneath your chin to tilt it up and kiss you, but you turned your face at the last second. a chorus of 'ooo's rang out from your teammates as you stormed out of the locker room.
the media bit was a little intense after that. mackenzie had only been joking, and her attempt at an apology had been brushed off. she didn't mean to upset you. driving wasn't something that she thought would be such a big deal for the two of you. she just liked doing things for you, and since you were normally very independent, this was one of the few things she had the opportunity to even attempt.
"are you ready to go back home?" mackenzie asked as the two of you made your way towards the parking lot.
"i'm not going home with you tonight," you told her. mackenzie's face fell immediately at the news. you hadn't been back to your apartment in two months, having stayed at mackenzie's. your lease was going to be up soon, and your roommate was in talks with a new transfer about moving in. however, you still had a couple of weeks before that happened.
"no!" mackenzie shouted. you winced at the loudness in such a close proximity. mackenzie's face softened a bit as she grabbed you by the arm and tugged you towards the car. "you don't live there, you live with me. we always go home together, you know this. did what i say really upset you this much?"
"it's not just the passenger princess jokes, mac. it's also not just you. i don't want all the girls and the staff to think that i can't do anything for myself. you don't hear all the jokes and comments. i swear that some of them think i can't do anything for myself." mackenzie's face fell as she saw how genuinely worked up you were getting over this. it went a lot further than she had known, and suddenly, mackenzie felt absolutely terrible that you'd been holding in these feelings for so long by yourself.
"hey, (y/n), look at me." mackenzie grabbed your face and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your cheek. "i am sorry for making you feel bad. i am sorry for letting things get so out of hand. i know that you're independent. hell, you do practically everything for me, and driving you around, it feels like the only thing i can offer to help you out. if you want to drive us back, you can, just please come home with me. i don't want to spend a single night without you if i don't have to."
"mac, baby?"
"yeah?" mackenzie seemed scared, as if you were going to tell her that you still wanted to go back to your own apartment. a night in with mackenzie, even whenever you were mad at her, was better than a night in with your roommate any day.
"take me home," you told her. mackenzie's shoulders sagged down a little with relief. you pressed a quick kiss to her lips and threaded your fingers with hers. the two of you walked through the parking lot together towards mackenzie's car. she got the door for you, absolutely beaming when you kissed her cheek in thanks. "can we stop by tesco's on the way home?"
"of course. i'll take you anywhere you want to go." mackenzie grabbed onto your hand and kissed the back of it. you let out a little giggle and settled back into your seat. there wasn't any tension in the car, which you were beyond grateful for.
mackenzie pushed the cart for you in the store, following as you walked around picking out seemingly random things. some of it was groceries that you had noticed earlier needed to be replenished, but quite a bit of the things you were buying weren't things that you normally bought at all. mackenzie didn't bring it up, assuming that it was for some sort of surprise at home.
"can i get some assistance from my favorite sous chef?" you asked mackenzie. she looked up from the couch to see you standing in the entryway of the kitchen holding an apron that you had bought her as a joke. mackenzie could cook, but she rarely did outside of using the grill every other weekend during the summer months.
"i don't know what you're making," mackenzie told you. you brushed it off and helped her into the apron. you gave very clear directions and within the hour, you had a homemade sauce simmering for a spaghetti night.
"how does it taste?" you watched nervously as mackenzie tasted a bit of the sauce.
"if football doesn't work out, you should open a restaurant," mackenzie told you. you moved to press a kiss to her cheek as thanks, unsurprised when mackenzie turned so your lips landed on hers. her hands grabbed at your waist, squeezing gently as she deepened the kiss. "better yet, i'll keep you on as my personal chef. and i can be your chauffeur if you'd like."
"sounds good to me. now, go set the table, the food is almost ready." you gave mackenzie a gentle shove away from you. mackenzie blew you a kiss as she carried the plates and silverware out to the dining room table. mackenzie sat excitedly at the table when you got out there, right next to the place that she set for you. she spent the whole meal practically just staring at you, often to the point of spilling a bit of her sauce on herself every other bite. it was ridiculous, but another reminder of why it was so easy to love mackenzie sometimes.
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ghouljams · 3 days
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Make a Meal
This is for @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost challenge :) I completely misread the "Making a meal for the other person" as "Making a meal out of the other person" and then was too far gone in my writing to reign it back in.
I guess this fits "A lustful moment turns unexpectedly romantic/meaningful" and "Accidentally falling asleep on each other" better...
Simon is eating you out in slow strokes, nestled nice and cozy under a blanket while you read. It's a lovely low thrum of pleasure. There's no rush, no need to make you come, just Simon indulging himself. Feeling you, tasting you, enjoying you. He's always like this when he comes home from deployment. Months in the field with just military rations and his mask take a toll on him, one you can never hope to understand, but you're determined to help with in any way he needs. Which includes helping him find his center again.
When you'd first started dating you'd thought his homecomings would be more explosive. You'd thought all the pent up need and months away from you would harden him, make him fuck you with an animal need that couldn't be sated until you were sobbing into his shoulder. And it was, until you realized how tired he was. Until the first time he's slumped into your embrace in the entryway and muttered about doing right by you later. Then it had been enough just to help him to bed, to lay with him and feel the gentle unspooling of his muscles against you.
He never slept his first night home, and you'd wake up with his hand low on your stomach, his fingers stroking over the soft skin until you asked if he needed anything. He always hesitated before shaking his head. (You're so different from him, always so different, that's why he liked you, why he took to you so quickly. You were nothing like his work, nothing like the people he knew: gentle, kind, quiet when he needed it, and soft in all the best places. He could never get enough of you to last him through deployment no matter how short it was.) It would take him a solid week to get back to sleeping normally with you, a week of asking what he needed and getting nowhere. Really you should have known, Simon's always been a show rather than tell kind of guy.
The first night he spread your legs, sand still clinging to his hands, fresh from the airport, really it was closer to morning than night. He shushed you with gentle reassurances and a promise that he wouldn't disturb you. "Please love," He'd added, "won't even know I'm 'ere." You were half asleep but you helped him get your sleep shorts off, and spread your legs for him, tried to rouse yourself back to wakefulness enough for sex, but it never came. Simon settled between your legs and pulled his tongue against your slit in gentle strokes, letting warmth pool between your legs without any of the immediate need you so often found when you were awake.
His tongue flicked against your clit, gentle, almost teasing, before resuming its careful exploration. The feeling registered and then settled into a constant buzz, a soft heat that ebbed and flowed. Something you could fall back asleep with, he was so gentle with you, worshipful. When you woke up in the morning his head was resting against your thigh, his ribs expanding and contracting with the soft breath of sleep. It was the first time you'd seen him sleep so well, so soon, after getting home. You didn't hesitate the next time he crawled between your legs.
Now it's a routine, one you've done a dozen times at least, and one you've been able to witness the entirety of. It's the sort of thing Simon will do for hours, a meditation between your soft thighs, a reminder that there's something under the mask even when he can't find Simon hiding behind Ghost anymore. He's always gentle with you, his tongue touching you like you're something delicate to be savored. Sometimes you come, often you don't. It's not for you.
You love it though. The times when Ghost gets home in the middle of the day, when you can pick him up from the airport and drive home with his hand settled heavy on your thigh, are the times you like best. When you can enjoy the company more than the sex. When you can feel the way Ghost's breathing softens as Simon comes back to you, the slow drop off of his attention until his head slumps against you and you know he's fallen asleep. Sometimes you'll scoot down so he can rest his head on your stomach, other times you'll find his cheek already pressed to your thigh, still others you lift the blanket and he's face down against the mattress snoring away.
You turn the page in your book, feeling the way the low buzz of pleasure throbs as your eyes skirt over the start of a smutty scene. Simon must feel it, his tongue pausing before he drags it up to suck on your clit. You jerk at the sudden pressure, pull your moan back into a whine that only seems to encourage Simon. His tongue flicks against your clit between hard sucks, tracing purposefully over your slit to wiggle against your entrance. He works you up so quickly after teasing you for so long, and mumbles for you to keep reading, to ignore him. As if you could when his mouth sparks a fire in your stomach that he has no intention of putting out.
You keep your eyes on your book even when they start to go fuzzy, even when you have to read the same sentence twenty times just to get it to stick in your mind. Simon scrapes his teeth against your clit, pushes his tongue into your pussy, squeezes your thighs with huge rough hands, and all but begs for you to come on his face. It always takes you by surprise, the slowly tightening spring he'd been winding snapping under his consistent pleasure, making you whimper and gasp as your hips buck against his mouth. He drinks down every drop, slurps at your pussy obscenely until you try to close your legs.
It's never enough to get him to stop. No, Simon goes until he's satisfied, until he's full of you, sated enough to fall asleep. His tongue careful when you're still sensitive, avoiding your clit as he cleans you up. You make a note of the smut and skip a few pages ahead to get back to the plot, not willing to disturb your wonderful boyfriend a second time.
Your only complaint, if you even can complain, is that he's so damn heavy when he sleeps.
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golden1u5t · 1 day
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proposal at the bau | s.r x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: fluff
ꨄ summary: you get called into the office on your day off and as anyone would be, you're upset. until you get there and walk into the conference room just to find a proposal waiting for you.
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getting called into the office at 8 am on your day off wasn't how you thought you'd start off your day, and to top it off spencer wasn't there when you woke up. you couldn't figure out why he'd left without waking you up first, you always got ready for work together.
you sported a frown on your face the entire way to the office, all the way until you got to the bullpen and noticed that everything was just the way it was when you all left the day prior. no reports open on the desks, computers turned off, no go bags on the floor, your face contorted into an expression of confusion as you set your bag on your desk.
you looked up at hotch's office to see him sitting at his desk like normal, then your gaze shifted to the conference room and you noticed that the blinds were pulled. you walked up the stairs and knocked on hotch's door before stepping in.
"oh, good you're here. everyone's briefing at the round table." he stood up from his desk directed you out of his office. you glanced at him and noticed how he was smiling, a rare occurrence at the work place.
"why would they be briefing without you-“ you opened the door to the conference room, everyone was dressed up in suits and dresses but the main thing was that spencer was down on one knee with a ring in his hand. "oh my god-"
hotch put his hands on your shoulders and gave you a gentle push towards spencer so that you were standing in front of him, rather than standing in the doorway. you were stunned, you'd never expected that spencer would be proposing to you.
"i- i know this probably isn't the ideal place to be proposed to as apposed to the beach or- or some place beautiful. i mean we're at work, this is the room where we see pictures of dead bodies and talk about serial killers-" he cut himself off when you placed your hands on his face, the bright smile on your face taking his breath away.
"i know that you're the person i want to spend the rest of my life with and i want to have kids together. i was wondering, will you marry me?"
without missing a beat: "yes!"
spencer took the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger, standing up and crashing his lips into yours. he pulled away before he got carried away, mindful that you weren't alone.
"congratulations, kids" rossi gave you both a fatherly hug and ruffled your hair. "if you ever need any marriage advice...go to aaron, i don't think i'm qualified in that department."
"trust me, we know." you joked. everyone gave you one last hug before hotch sent you and spencer on your way, saying something about how you needed to spend a week together with no interruptions. you and spencer walked out of the office hand in hand, the biggest smiles on your face as you started a new chapter of your lives together.
"what do we do after this?" spencer asked once you got in the elevators. you stepped in front of him and pulled him down so you could properly kiss him without your friends watching.
"i could think of a few things." you muttered against his lips, spencer turned beat red at the suggestiveness in your voice. if he wasn't in a hurry to get home before, he sure is now.
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svnflowermoon · 2 days
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y'all go from being feminists to tearing these women down within seconds oh my god it's 2024 can we please stop viciously tearing one woman down to bring another up i don't care what side you take but saying vile shit about either woman and their music is disgusting, please grow up
#seperate the art from the artist please oh my god#for the record i like both billie and taylor#both have done things i don't particularly like#the variants being a major thing but i know thats not to hurt billie like yall say its it's to get more money (which she doesn't need????)#& if i were billie i would try to stay in good graces w the other chart topping artists if my album had just released but thats her choice#like let people have opinions oh my god its not that deep#and some of yall (not naming names yk who you are) went from loving billies new album to saying the most vile shit within a second which is#+shallow as fuck please learn to separate the art from the artist#you're allowed to dislike someones music but dragging them down as a person is shameful and not something to be proud of#and some of the shit ive seen said recently is disgusting please think before you speak#and ill be honest the swifties are saying most of the horrible stuff#i love taylor as much as you guys but it is not an excuse to say disgusting shit about other women please find something better to do+#+with your time#most of my mutuals are swifties but tbh if youre offended by me saying not to drag women down then i don't want you following me anyways#luc posts#billie eilish#taylor swift#i will not rant about my hatred for the variants and consumerism thats a post for another day#also have yall considered that this whole argument thing is pr so they can both get more streams. bc uh that was my first thought ngl#edit like 10 minutes later: i read an article and yall are blowing shit out of proportion it is literally not that deep omg
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pirateprincessblog · 2 days
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the other man
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𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: READ PART ONE HERE, also not completely proofread because i've been so tired and bloated these days i have no energy :( feel free to message me about mistakes!
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: after finding out you were used by your brother to get rid of someone he simply didn't like, you go on a break. every time you see that place or the man, you get reminded of another one who hugged your legs while on his knees, before he was dragged to his downfall. just why can't you escape it, no matter how hard you try? 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x f!reader, ft yunho 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: prison theme, criminal!mingi, prisoner!mingi, doctor!reader, evilbrother!yunho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: semi public oral (f!receiving)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gore, v*olence, swearing, stalking, m*rder
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦��𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
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"no! no, god, no! please!"
"get off me."
"please, please! yunho, please!"
"get" smack "the fuck" smack "off me!" smack.
you fall on the floor, knees hurting from being dragged across the floor all the way to his office, and cheeks red from all the hitting. you don't let go of his shirt yet, the fabric securely scrunched between your fingers.
"i'll do anything," you wipe your tears with your elbow, "anything!"
"anything?" he raises an eyebrow, lowering his hand that was about to land on you one more time.
a glint of hope appears in your eyes, and you straighten your posture. still on your knees, you put your palms together, ready to beg more. "yes, anything."
yunho is silent for a few moment, looking at you with an unreadable expression. and it kills you, that he can mask emotions so well. he crouches, getting down to your level. he cups your jaw in his big hand, and you suddenly feel shivers running down your spine.
"come with me."
his gentle touch turns into a painful one, his hand moving from your face to your hair in a split second. he drags you across the hallway, into the elevator, and throws you against the mirror wall. you barely have time to reach for the little pole to hold onto, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts you so that you stand up.
"listen to me."
"please-"
"listen to me!" he grabs your face again, fingers digging into your cheeks and making your lips purse. "you act like a whore, you'll get treated like one. hell, i'll let everyone have their way with you, if that's what you want. but do not interfere with my work. never, ever again."
"but i-"
"have i made myself fucking clear?!"
"yes, yes!"
he finally loosens his grip, making your body slide down the wall and find peace on the floor. he punches the floor number, then leans on the elevator door. you look up at him, disgust and resentment painting your face. you hope the doors open and he falls head first on something sharp.
"don't look at me like that. this isn't my fault."
if only you could say something back, but fear has swallowed you whole. so you stay there, resorting in only sending him glares.
"frankly, it's not mingi's fault either."
"don't say his name, you don't get to-"
"it's your fault."
"it's not."
"oh, but it is. see, i warned you, little sissy. but you just don't know how to listen."
the doors open, luckily for him. you stand up, following him down a poorly lit hallway. you pass multiple metal doors, with a small window on top of each. until you stop by one right at the end. you gasp, then scream, along with the person inside. it echoes through the hallway, bouncing off the walls and torturing you.
"no, no!" you scream, trying to turn around. but yunho holds you still in front of the window, making you watch as mingi gets sat on a chair you thought you'd never see in real life. "god, please, please!"
"i said i'd make you watch."
"mr jeong!"
"watch."
"mr jeong!"
the voice gets closer, and mingi has more belts holding him with each second that passes. one of the guards stands aside, waiting for the final belt to be secured across his chest, before putting a metal electrode cap on his head.
"mr jeong!"
"what, what, what?!" he yells, letting go of you and turning towards the young guard running towards him. "do you wish to fucking join him?! how dare you interrupt-"
"inspection, mr jeong."
yunho takes a step back, breath halting for a moment. your fingers hopelessly scratch at the tiny window, eyes burning with tears as you watch the strapped man stop struggling and accept his fate. he doesn't look at you, but you know he hears you. he grimaces at your wails, avoids your gaze, and silently cries.
"fuck! go back to your position, tell barnes to start protocol b."
"what about protocol a?"
"are they in the building already?"
"yes...?"
"then, it's too late for that. protocol b starts now. block the doors as soon as the execution is done, and get rid of the evidence through the gate f." yunho then grabs you by your elbow, throwing you into the guard. "take her to elijah, let him escort her to my house. no witnesses."
the young guard nods, then guides you away from the doors. yunho opens the door, for a split second letting mingi's pained moans and wails escape the room of torture. it shatters your heart, weakens your knees, and makes you want to vomit right there. the ground sways under your feet as you try to reach the exit, the sign section Z being the last thing you see before collapsing.
when you open your eyes again, it feels like your lungs are on fire. you have been crying in your sleep, dried lines on your cheeks being proof of that. you remember waking up for a few seconds, elijah making you drink a sip of water before helping you into your bed again.
now, it is almost four in the afternoon, and you feel as if you dreamt the whole thing. but when you see elijah's note on the nightstand, you are reminded of the grey reality. the note states that yunho has ordered you lunch, and that it is in the fridge. barefoot, still in yesterday's clothes, you walk downstairs to the kitchen. you open the fridge, finding a plate of steak with grilled asparagus and mashed potatoes, along with a little bottle of orange juice. how kind of him to order you his favorite meal.
you scrunch the paper in your hand, anger making your vision red. you take the plate out, then set it on the kitchen counter. as you cut into it, you realize it is rare, blood dripping from it and soaking the mashed potatoes. it is like irony, red staining the yellow just like mingi's blood stained your dress in the cafeteria. is it some sort of a cruel joke coming from yunho? did he want you to feel sick and not eat? you slam the knife into the steak multiple times, ruining it and sending red drops of liquid everywhere. you slam your fist into the mashed potatoes, then take the asparagus and throw them at the white wall. the juice bottle shares the same fate, the knife piercing through it and letting the yellow juice drip on the marble tiles.
before you know it, the kitchen is coated in the sticky liquid, walls are poked with whatever your hand could grab, and the living room became the new victim. the recently bought leather couches were ripped open, cozy cushions no longer cozy, but only balls of cotton and feathers, and the glass coffee table was only a skeleton now, the glass shattered and digging into the rug.
you sit in the middle of it, pieces of collectible vases, statues and painting surrounding you. the sight is an invitation for yunho to strangle you right then and there. but you don't give him a chance. you gather clothes into your backpack, hygienic things and his spare wallet, then take his most favorite car out of five of them. you don't leave before keying the other four, despite the weird glances your neighbors throw you. you only smile at them, then nod your head as a greeting. they must think you are crazy. you can't wait until they tell yunho on you.
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you have found peace in a cozy little hotel in a town nearby. you don't use his cards, in case he tries to track them down. he has enough cash to keep you there for at least a year. besides, you're already looking for a new job. working in a coffee shop seems promising. the fact that you know nothing but an espresso and hot chocolate doesn't seem to bother the manager. your eagerness to learn is enough for her to consider you a candidate.
if yunho has tried reaching out to you, you don't know. you got rid of your old phone, immediately upgrading to the newest one, with a fresh number. you didn't try finding out about him either. you don't care. you only hope elijah didn't get punished for your actions. after all, he only brought you home.
the hotel room is a bit cozier now that you've added your little decorations. from fake vines and fairy lights you bought from the dollar store, to expensive books and posters you got from the bookstore down the street. it is only temporary, until you decide exactly what you wish to do with your life. you've lived in yunho's shadow, having him decide for you and write out your future without asking you. and you never questioned it, really. did you dislike it at times? yes, you did. did you dare say anything? no, hell no. now that you have freedom, you are lost. yunho was always the one guiding you, and now you were alone.
"you're hired!" you hear the very next day, as you sit drenched in nervous sweat.
you breathe out, relief washing over your body. finally, a start. the first paycheck has you almost crying. people really live like this? the second one isn't a complete shock like the first one, but it could be better. by the third one, you have already accepted that you cannot live lavishly anymore. so you stop visiting the bookstore, stop buying pastries after your shift, and start cooking yourself. you didn't know it would be this hard. but it is too late to back down now. there is no way you're going back to yunho, not if you want to live.
"hey, can you help me out? it's like everyone made a decision to sit in my section today!"
your coworker is drowning in tickets, loose strands of hair falling out of her once perfect bun, and her apron is already smudged. you nod, hurriedly running over to the tables that have just sat down, again, in her section. your section is quiet, mainly because the sun is hitting it and it is way too hot to sit there.
three tables are done, and you have only one left. the man sits alone, typing something on his laptop. hopefully he didn't notice how long he had to wait. you finally approach it, eyes not leaving your notepad. "i am so sorry for the wait, we didn't expect the rush so early."
"no worries, i understand."
time stops around you, only the two of you stuck in a bubble. your fingers hold the notepad, losing colour in the tips from how hard you're gripping it. you gulp, audibly, before lowering the pad and locking eyes with brown ones. you almost run, seeing the bone chilling smile on his face.
"yunho." you gasp, fear swallowing you whole.
"iced americano, please."
you clear you throat, and finally write it down. "right. anything else?"
"no, that would be all." he goes back to typing on his laptop.
you are scared to pass by him, but remember that you are in a crowded space. he wouldn't do anything here, would he?
"oh, right."
"y-yes?" you turn around.
"a pistachio doughnut to go."
"right away."
shakily, you prepare the order. even the manager gives you a side eye, not used to that behaviour. but she doesn't say anything, assuming that you are just tired since it's almost the end of your morning shift.
"hey, could you please give this to table-"
"oh my god, i'm so sorry, but i can't. i have like four tables waiting for me, and i still haven't brought out that cookie for table six."
worth a try. you approach the table in the corner, trying to sneak a glance at the laptop screen. but yunho slams it just in time, depriving you of nosiness. you set the cup on the table, along with the paper bag with the doughnut in it.
"thank you." he says, handing you a big bill. "keep the change."
"uh, this is too much-"
"it's fine. you look like you need it."
with that, he sends you another smile and stands up, and if you didn't know him, you'd think it's genuine. but you know it's dripping with venom, and if you were alone with him somewhere, he would snatch you in a split second and have you in that very chair you keep having nightmares about.
"have a good day, miss...?"
"edwards."
"right, miss edwards."
you watch in terror as he exits the shop, not sparing you another glance. fifteen minutes ago, you just couldn't wait for the end of your shift. now? you're dreading it. up until the moment you hang the apron in your locker and gather your things, your hands don't stop shaking. not even when you exit the shop, head frantically turning in search of two brown eyes. walking to the hotel, you have time to think. he hasn't changed much, except a healed scar line near his eye. you wonder what happened. you wonder if the inspection managed to find anything. you hope they did. in revenge for mingi.
"good day, miss edwards." the receptionist greets, a smile always on her face.
"good day, rita."
"ah, that visitor of yours is so cute. is he single?"
you turn abruptly, head almost turning like an owl. "what visitor?"
"oh, the cute one! brown hair, brown eyes, very tall? he was so nice to me, even gave me a tip."
your legs have never been faster, bringing you into your room in under a minute. you barge in, like you were expecting to find your partner with a lover. you drop your work bag on the floor, approaching the unmade bed that you distinctly remember making. there is muddy footsteps all over the floor, and a familiar paper bag on the nightstand. you leave the door open, just in case, before approaching the bed. you take the paper bag in your shaky hands, eyes skimming over the written note on it.
for miss edwards, from her dear brother. miss you. x
the door slams shut, and you jump. the bag drops on the floor, and you squeal, turning around. but nobody is in the room. once you make sure you really are alone, you open the bag. you find the very doughnut you packed. you plop on the bed, scanning the food. it does look like originally packed one, so you bite into it, thinking about your next move. you can't stay here, now that he knows where you are. just how did he find you, anyway?
you take another bite, but this time your teeth stumble upon something hard. you let go after struggling, realizing it is not bits of pistachios, but something more dense. your eyes drop on the pastry, and when you can't decipher what it is, you pull it out, only to throw it on the floor with a scream. it is a chopped off finger, the small fix on tattoo on it very familiar to you. you gasp, hand flying to your mouth to stop a sob from escaping. how cruel, sick and twisted does someone's brain have to be to think of and pull something like this?
not even a week after the incident, you receive a call from your work that a costumer keeps leaving tips for you even when you're not here. the description fits yunho, but you haven't seen him at all. he knows that his name alone is enough to terrify you. this is worse than what you initially thought he'd do if he found you. it is slow torture, and you can't escape it.
you ask for a break, knowing damn well that you are safer there than you are in the hotel. but you keep messing up people's orders, spilling their drinks, and there's always missing cash from the register. your manager almost squealed with joy when you asked her for a few days off. you use the time to start thinking about alternatives. do you move towns again? do you go back to him? do you call police?
all three seem stupid and useless. for now, you'll focus on eating healthy and having some self care days. one thing is clear, if jeong yunho has made it his goal to harm you, he will do it; one way or another. he might be delaying it, toying with the prey before killing it.
you don't go back to work for another week, desperately searching for a way out. but you are bombed with random flowers, presents, and similar things waiting for you when you come back from your daily run. it has become a habit, for you to enter the room and immediately toss the unwanted gift into the hallway. you keep the severed finger in a tissue on the nightstand, each night patting it sleepily and saying good night in your head. crazy, but it is the only part of him you have left. and it makes you feel a little more at ease now that you know he is resting, not in pain. and at least you get to have proper sleep, since yunho never seems to disturb you during the night.
but universe loves to prove you wrong, because you get awoken by the door opening. you sit up straight, still halfway asleep. the person in your room halts, flowers secure in their hand and a hood over their head. you barely have time to react, because the person is quick to put a hand over your mouth. you don't see the face, from the dark and the hood, but you recognize that touch and smell anywhere.
"hush, doctor."
tears roll down your cheeks, horror and relief fighting for dominance in your body. you feel four fingers over your lips, the pinky missing. the very pinky you have in the tissue, now drained of colour.
"it's just me," he whispers, taking the hood off with his free hand. he still holds the flowers, not letting go yet.
you are overwhelmed by emotions. from relief, to fear, to sadness. you jump into his arms, without thinking. but there isn't much to think about. you only need to look into his eyes, to know that you are safe.
"mingi," you finally exhale, head buried into his neck.
"my doctor," he coos, hand rubbing your back as you cry into his hoodie, "my pretty little doctor."
now, you are confused. if mingi is holding the flowers, does it mean he was the one entering the room and leaving you presents? what about the doughnut and the finger? did they run into each other? do they work together now? what if there is a bigger story behind all of this?
"i can hear you thinking, doll."
"i'm sorry, i just-" you sob mid sentence, "i just don't know-" hiccup, "what's going on?"
"come on, lay down with me."
mingi sets the flowers right next to the scrunched tissue, then lays down and opens his arms for you. hesitantly, you lay on his chest, allowing him to wrap his warm arms around your shivering body.
"it is too much for you to handle, i know. you saw me on my death chair, and now i'm here. how about we go to sleep, and i'll tell you all in the morning?"
"no, i can't."
mingi nods, understandingly. "then, i better get to explaining.
when you fainted, yunho was called over, and it was too late for the execution. apparently, they never do it without him. sick bastard likes to watch. so, once again, i was saved by you, unknowingly."
you scoff through tears, hitting his chest gently. "right."
"i managed to fight them off and escape, and yunho had no time to deal with me because he had the inspection at his throat. he found me a little later, tried to kill me, but i managed to flee again. i cut him pretty bad, don't know if you've noticed. i was pretty proud of myself for that."
"near the eye?"
"bingo. glad to know that he has a reminder of me on his stupid face now. just like i have one." he looks down on his injured hand.
"were you the one leaving the presents for me all this time?"
"all this time? how long are we talking?"
"weeks."
mingi stills underneath you. so it isn't him. you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay sane.
"yunho found me."
"oh."
"he gave me your finger."
"he what?!" he sits up straight, visibly distraught. "he fucking what?!"
silently, you reach for the tissue, handing it to him. he takes one glance at it, then at his hand. his expression is unreadable, something between hatred and disappointment. you've never seen him like that.
"he has been terrorizing me since he found me, leaving me creepy presents and stalking me. i don't know what to do."
the man sighs, also thinking. "we could run away."
"where?"
"anywhere. just you and i. to start fresh."
"but you're an escaped convict."
you regret saying that, seeing a hurtful expression on his face. "i was wrongfully imprisoned."
are you finally getting his story from a first hand source? is this the right time to be excited about it? "why? didn't you kill your sister's boyfriend?"
"he deserved it. he was hitting and raping her."
"you aren't the one to decide who gets to live or die."
"and your brother is?"
you move away from him, jaw dropped. "he is not my brother, and you know that."
"you know what? you're the same as him. only using people when you see benefit in them." he spits, getting up from the bed and taking the flowers back.
"how dare you?!"
"watch your tone." his voice is no longer warm and cozy, but cold and stern. he looks at you with ice cold eyes, his posture different. "do not yell at me again, i am warning you now."
"what the hell is wrong with you? it's like you're an entirely different man-"
"i am. i am a free man. away from wrongful convictions, away from the abuse. i am a different, better man."
he steps closer to you, causing you to step back. your back hits the door, hand desperately searching for the door knob. he stops in front of you, mere inches away.
"but you don't want that, do you? you want the vulnerable mingi, the mingi that kneels in front of you and begs for your affection. guess what? things are different now."
this is what yunho was warning you about. and you see it just now. mingi is a criminal. a prisoner. an escaped one now. oh, how you would love for yunho to barge in and save you. but you fucked it up. you had it good, and you didn't even know it.
"that bastard deserved to get his head blown up, and i won't hesitate to do the same to the person that continues terrorizing you. you're mine, you said so yourself."
"i- i thought that was only-"
"what? dirty talk? no, no, my sweet little doctor. you are mine, and mine only." he takes your jaw into his hand, thumb caressing your tear stained cheek. "nobody can have you. nobody but me."
his other hand reaches behind your back, finding the doorknob for you. but instead of opening it, he locks it, then puts the hand on your waist.
"mine." he growls, before pressing his lips against yours.
it doesn't feel right. he is rough, not loving and warm at all. but you go with it, not having any other option available. he doesn't fight you on it, seeing that you aren't as enthusiastic as him. he pulls away, finger still cupping your face.
"come, you need some sleep."
and you listen. you go back to bed, getting into his embrace once again. only this time, it isn't anything like the first time. you fall asleep, scared to death, knowing that you now have two men who are a great danger to you. lovely.
in the morning, you are awakened by kisses on your neck. you rub your eyes, adjusting to the lighting.
"morning, darling."
"morning," you mumble, stretching.
you look down at the man, expecting to find the same possessive and cold gaze from last night. but his eyes are back to soft, and his tone is caring. what in the world?
"sleep well? i hope i didn't kick in my sleep. i tend to do that, since i'm used to sleeping alone and had barnes as my roomie."
"uh, no..." you say, puzzled. does he not remember what happened last night? or does he choose to ignore it?
"i ordered us breakfast. hope you're in the mood for waffles."
"mingi-"
"here," he adjusts your pillow against the bed frame so you can sit up straight, "i'll bring it to you."
you think this is a joke. a trap. is this the calm before the storm? if yes, how do you escape it? seeing mingi set the wooden tray on your lap so carelessly, as if you didn't fall asleep last night startled to death, makes you wonder if you should give yunho a call. would he even take you after the stunt you pulled? you eye the waffles, topped with various berries and honey. a glass of cranberry juice sits in the corner, as inviting as ever. but you don't touch it. you're too busy calculating in your head, even mingi notices your hesitation.
"what? want me to feed you?" the man in front of you jokes, popping a blueberry in his mouth.
when he sees your further lack of reaction and only your focused face, his smile drops. you gulp, hoping that last night won't happen again.
"i get it, i'm acting too normal for the situation we are in. but that's sometimes my only way out; to act like everything is fine. but everything can be fine, if you would just come with me."
"where would we even go?" you dare ask.
"anywhere you want." he replies, reaching for the knife and making you jolt. if he notices, he doesn't react. instead, he plays with it while thinking of his next words. your eyes follow as the tip of his finger runs down the sharp edge, as if determining whether it's sharp enough to use it. "just name it."
"with what money?"
"we'll figure it out. from the looks of it, you aren't doing too bad. i'm guessing you treated yourself with yunho's possessions?"
"you think nobody will recognize you?" you push. "you think yunho hasn't already sent out your photos and-"
"what the fuck is wrong with you all of a sudden?!" mingi roars, flipping the tray of food over and spilling the cranberry juice all over the white sheets. you shriek, then cover your ears as your body drowns into the mattress and beneath the covers. "answer me, dammit!"
his hand grips your wrists, pulling your hands away from your ears so he can yell at you more. you can only close your eyes, in hopes of making him disappear just for a split second.
"i came here knowing the risks, i'm offering to protect you from your awful brother, and i want to love you!"
"mingi please-" you beg through sobs, hands desperately trying to find their place back on your ears.
"why won't you let me love you?!" he then grabs you by your shoulders, shaking you. "answer me!"
the door swings open, hitting the wall with force and shaking your recently decorated shelves. books fall on the ground, but jeong yunho couldn't care less. he steps over them, grabbing mingi and landing a punch on his face. mingi stumbles, but regains his stability and wastes no time in giving yunho a taste of his own medicine. their faces soon match the colour of the spilled juice on the sheets, both of them wiping red trails from their lips and noses.
"get away from her." yunho demands, not having to raise his voice in order to make himself look intimidating. his calm expression as blood runs down his chin and onto his white shirt is scary enough. "now."
"i'm not letting her go back with you. not in that shithole."
"and i'm not letting her go with you."
you sit still on the bed, not moving a muscle and afraid to breathe. both of them look at you at the same time, causing you to squeal and jump out of the bed, legs carrying you to the door. yunho grabs you before mingi can, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe in his hands. you waste no time in wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your soaked face into his ruined shirt.
"i think it's pretty clear where she wants to be." yunho spits, protectively putting a hand on the back of your head and using the other one to push you further against him. "leave now, and i will leave you alone. you won't hear from me ever again. from either of us."
"no. i don't trust you one bit. doll, come back to me." mingi calls, putting his hand out for you to take.
you only glance at him, still in yunho's embrace and eyes full of tears. you shake your head, causing his face to drop. he frowns, then straightens his posture. something snaps inside of him, you see it. and you are grateful to have someone here, otherwise who knows what might've happened. something similar to the previous night, only worse?
"very well. that might be the stupidest decision you've made in your life."
with that, he passes by you, hitting yunho's shoulder in the process and causing you to jolt. but yunho doesn't budge. instead, he waits for the other man to leave before finally pulling away from you. you are overwhelmed by the situation, sobs finally leaving your mouth loud and clear as you try to process what just happened within a day.
"look at me," yunho says, voice soothing. "you're okay. he can't hurt you anymore."
when you only respond with a new fit of sniffs and sobs, he sighs and pulls you into a hug again.
"it's my fault."
"huh?"
"back in the elevator. it's not your fault. it's mine for keeping him alive."
"don't say that."
"you can't possibly- after what he's done to you? you still protect him?" the dark haired man scoffs in disbelief.
"no, i just- i don't like hearing you speak that way. can i just- have a day of not hearing anything about dying or living?"
yunho nods understandingly. "what do you want to do now?"
"what do you mean?" you ask, busying yourself by collecting the ruined sheets and avoiding his gaze.
"do you wish to come back and continue living with me?"
you halt your movements, trying to figure out if he is genuine or not. your eyes find his, and you try to read them as best as you can. but yunho maintains his poker face, causing you to step back.
"no prison, no anything. you can find a different job, i'll help you." he offers, seeing you put your walls up again.
"really?" you ask, not yet convinced.
"really. it's the least i can do." he looks down on the floor, admiring his shoes. "after everything i did to you."
you truly hope he is genuine. if not, well, there's nothing much you can do about it.
"okay."
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the house looks the same as before your little renovating process. same pillows, same coffee table, same wallpapers. you forget how filthy rich he is. in contrast, your room was left untouched. messy, just how you left it when packing hurriedly. yunho didn't ask for his wallet or car back. he let you keep it all, even brought you job applications from nearby coffee shops on his way back from work.
"would you like to open your own?" he asks one morning, casually eating his cereal.
"what?!" you shout, causing him to flinch. "sorry, i just- what?"
"your own coffee shop. do you want it?"
"i'm not sure i'm ready for that. it's a lot of responsibility. besides, you'd buy it for me just like that?"
"yes. why not?"
you think about it, comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. you hear light crunching coming from his side of the table, the spoon gently grazing the bowl and milk dripping into it. it is the calmest morning you've had with him, and you can't help but feel grateful. you watch as he eats, wearing a simple nike set and fuzzy slippers you bought him when you were still a teen. he looks so... normal. like he doesn't torture people for fun during his working hours. like he didn't aim a lamp at your head and serve you a human finger. like he is your normal brother and this is a perfectly normal setting.
"what's on your mind?" he interrupts your thinking. "mingi?"
"yeah," you admit. "it's so weird. he was so nice in the cell, and when he came to my room... he was nice, then mean, then nice again. i'm confused."
he finishes his cereal, then brings the bowl to his lips and slurps the remaining milk. you roll your eyes, seeing the liquid drip down his chin and onto the table.
"yunho-" you cringe, watching him wipe it with his sleeve.
"i'll clean it up." he waves his hand, then reaches for paper towels to wipe his creation. "you were saying?"
"right," you clear your throat, gaze dropping on your own empty plate. "it's just- his behaviour is weird. he is so nice and loving, and the next second he is yelling at me and grabbing me like that. i've read his file, doesn't say anything about it. i've looked after him in his cell for months, he never had a rage fit. he never showed a hint of anger, let alone tried to do something to me."
yunho sighs. you look at him, eyes squinted. there's something he isn't telling you.
"yunho?"
"he has a personality disorder."
"what? why isn't that written anywhere? why didn't doctor maslow tell me?"
"listen, we made a deal, didn't we? me telling you this is my own free will, and i will tell you as much as i want."
you remember the deal, the one you've made the day you came back to the house again. if you're not going to work at the prison anymore, you don't get to interfere or ask him about it. and you accepted, gladly. you don't want to be connected with that place in any way.
"he has a personality disorder, i didn't inform you for my own private reasons. but since you came along and decided to help him, he was different. no more rage fits, even barnes was getting irritated because he had no reason to beat him."
but he still did, you want to say. and yunho knows, because he chuckles at your disgusted face.
"at first, he didn't remember the incident at his house. he was completely numb when we managed to enter the house, and was very much confused during the interrogation. even we were lost, because he was genuinely trying to help us figure out what happened. and then, when he heard a guard making a comment about his sister, we all figured it out. mingi jumped on him, bit his ear off, and that explained to us what's going on."
"oh."
"and that also explains what happened at the cafeteria, and why he was talking about protecting you. he was reliving the same story, and he couldn't contain himself."
you sit in silence, memories flooding back in. the prisoner with his throat bitten off, yunho holding mingi down, your dress soaking up the blood from the floor, all while mingi looks at you and doesn't fight back, only makes sure that you are okay.
"that's..." you huff, overwhelmed with the information you just found out, "...quite messed up. all of it."
"i know."
"if you see him again, will you bring him back?"
"no." he simply says, and with that, takes the bowl to the sink and approaches you. he plants a kiss on your head, something he hasn't done in... ever. "don't you worry about those things anymore. open a coffee shop, find a cute nerd and get married already."
"already? i am only-" you hit his shoulder, and he ruffles your hair.
"yeah, yeah. i'm leaving! don't wait for me, i won't be back until late tonight."
"yunho?" you call, voice small.
"yes?" he doesn't turn around, busy discarding his fuzzy slippers and putting his sneakers on.
"am i supposed to forget the lamp and finger incident?"
he halts his moves for a second, but pretends to be unbothered. you manage to see a frown on his face, no matter how much he tries to hide it. "that's behind us."
"i'll forever remember it." you admit.
"okay."
and with a door slam, he leaves you alone in the house. okay. it's not okay. not one bit. that part of this whole situation is still not resolved, and it is bugging you. will he do it again? is that why he isn't acknowledging it? you sigh, then make your way to bed. you rot in there all day, doing nothing but eating sweets and drinking cans of soda, your favorite show rolling on the wall tv. as the sun goes down, your eyes grow tired and irritated, and no matter how hard you try to stay awake, your body gives up.
you wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat. you keep dreaming of cells and mingi's screams, and it doesn't help that yunho isn't home most of the nights. everything is scarier when it's dark and yunho isn't here. especially tonight, when you reach for the bottle of water on your night stand and instead touch something soft. you turn your head, sleepily rubbing your eyes before taking a good look at the item.
a bouquet of tulips, with a note attached.
your heart stops, head frantically turning in search for a familiar figure hidden in the room. the window is wide open, a sign that you aren't or weren't alone. with shaky fingers, you reach for the note, using your phone light to read it.
𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒅𝒐𝒄. 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘? 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚.
𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊.
you rip the note in tiny bits, then throw it in the trash and mask it with spare junk around the house. yunho can't see that. especially because you really plan on going.
fixing your favorite dress, taking your pepper spray just in case, and putting your newest sandals on, you make your way to the city library. you quietly walk among the shelves, like you once used to walk among the restricted sections. you pick a few books along the way, to look less suspicious. your heart pounds inside your chest, threatening to jump out. one part of you hopes he isn't here. you're not sure if you're ready for that encounter. the other part is getting disappointed with each section you pass, his figure not appearing yet.
you didn't quite think this through. frankly, you never do recently. how do you approach him? what do you say? what do you do?
you reach the end of the maze of shelves, letting out a disappointed, yet relieved huff. now what? the back of the note said ten in the morning, and it is now almost eleven. turning on your heel, your gaze remains on the random books you've picked.
"princess?"
you stop, head raising to find the source of the voice. song mingi stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and a hood over his head. words are lost in your throat, struggling to come together and leave your mouth. you step back, unsure of what to do. mingi steps towards you, and you continue like that, until your back hits the wall covered in shelves and massive history books.
"say something."
you fail to, only gulping and staring at him instead. his hands cup your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes scan your features.
"please." he whispers.
"hi." you say, stupidly.
he chuckles, then presses his lips on yours. it doesn't feel wrong this time. it feels familiar, and sweeter than ever. he plants small kisses all over your face, from your cheeks, to your forehead, and then on your neck.
"mingi-" you stop him, dropping the books on the floor and putting your hands on his chest.
"i've missed you. please."
"you wanted to meet so you can fuck me?" you ask, disbelief evident on your face.
he pulls away immediately, but his hands stay on your face. "no, of course not. i wanted to talk to you, but now that i see you... i remember how much i miss you."
"this was a bad idea. i have to go."
you try pushing him away, but he grabs you by your waist and pushes you against the shelves. he drops down on his knees, hands sliding down your clothed hips and down to the bottom of your dress. you shiver as his cold hands touch your bare legs under the dress.
"mingi..." you say again, each time less convincingly.
"just... ten minutes. give me ten minutes."
his fingers find the outline of your panties, and you don't protest. remembering the last time his hands were all over you, you give yourself to him. his head disappears under your dress, hot breath caressing your clothed clit. he licks a strip over the panties, causing you to squirm. his grip on your legs hardens, spreading them in the process and making you stay still. your hand grips his hair as soon as he pulls your panties aside, hot tongue teasing the tip of your clit.
you shudder, body getting used to the foreign feeling of pleasure. mingi devours you like a starved man, sucking on your clit, licking up and down your folds, and teasing your entrance.
"you taste as sweet as you look." he pulls away just to say that, then wastes no time in picking your body off the floor and putting your legs over his shoulders.
you gasp, losing control of your body. "what if someone- ah! sees?"
"let them."
his fingers find comfort in your tight walls, scissoring and stretching you. the noises alone make you even wetter than you already are, mingi's hums combined with the slurping and squelching making you dizzy with pleasure. a knot forms at the bottom of your stomach, his fingers toying with your sensitive buttons and helping you reach the peak.
he doesn't silence you, instead, lets you moan his name as you grind your hips against him, riding out the last bits of orgasm. he licks up the remaining liquid, before putting your panties back in place and setting you down on the ground.
he finally takes his hood off, and all the pleasure and bliss you were feeling up until now disappear. his face is more wounded than ever, purple and red spots scattered on it.
"what the hell happened?!"
"yunho's men found me last night after i left your house. tried to kill me. again."
"oh my god," you put a hand over your mouth, not believing your ears. who do you even trust at this point?
"run away with me, doctor. please."
"i- i don't know." you avoid his gaze, looking at the long forgotten books on the floor.
"nobody will ever love you like i do. nobody knows you like i do. so please. make this easy for both of us and come with me."
you want to. you really do. but yunho-
"yunho is a bad man. i know he's your brother, but he is a monster. maybe you don't know, or maybe you do, but i wasn't the only one who had to endure that torture. countless of us, but only i found a way out. well, the way out found me. you found me."
you never thought about it. you only ever saw and heard of mingi, but who knows how many of them there were.
"how about this? i'll take you to my house, and while i finish some business, you can think about it. if you really don't want it, leave while i'm gone, and i'll never look for you again. however, if you do want it, there's spare clothes and a suitcase. you know what to do. that sound good?"
you nod, grateful that he is giving you time to think. he plants a kiss on your forehead, then takes your hand and leads you out of the library. you don't question where he got a car from, you like peace(lol). the house is almost an hour drive away from the library, and soon enough, you realize that it is the very same house you saw in the files back in prison. you walk the same path yunho has probably walked, only unarmed and with the person he came for.
the inside of it is mostly empty, besides a sofa in the living room and empty kitchen cabinets. there's multiple packets of cereal on the counter, and two or three unwashed bowls in the sink. is that what he has been eating since he got out?
he notices you staring at the place, a question mark almost visible above your head. "neighbors raided the house as soon as they moved out."
you hum, not sure what to say. he offers you a can of coke, which you politely take, but don't open yet. he sighs, seeing your hesitation.
"i'll be leaving now. feel free to explore, i have nothing to hide."
that was a lie, because as soon as you see him disappear down the street, you raid the house. everything seems normal, except a picture frame on the wall. you tilt it, noticing that it hangs weird. and indeed, you find something he is hiding. a hole in the wall, with a few weapons and bullets, stacks of money and jewelry. above it, a picture of you and your brother, with a knife stabbed into his face. you immediately figure out just what kind of business mingi has to finish.
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yunho closes the door to your room, sighing. you texted him this morning, saying that you were meeting up with a friend. but you are not back yet, and his calls aren't reaching you. he has sent both barnes and elijah to look for you for almost an hour now, but all he has is we are close to her, sir.
he walks into his bathroom, ruffling his hair. his light blue silk sleepwear is suddenly uncomfortable, knowing that you are somewhere out there this late. he wishes you could only send him a message that you are fine. he wouldn't demand that you come back immediately, you are an adult. just to let him know that you are okay.
the man splashes his face with cold water, grief eating him inside out. every time he closes his eyes, he sees yours full of fear looking at him. as soon as you come back, he'll apologize. for everything. he will admit that he doesn't know why he did what he did. the power must've consumed him, he can't find any other reason.
he opens his eyes, looking at his drenched face and eyebags. he hasn't slept well in ages, but he is so close to it. little by little, he is working on making the prison what you wanted it to be; a place of rehabilitation, not torture and punishment. he sighs, reaching for the towel and burying his face into it. the scent of the fabric softener calms him, along with the soft texture of the towel. folding it neatly and setting it down, he glances at himself one more time. a hooded figure stares back at him, right behind him.
"FUCK!"
yunho jumps, hand grabbing the first thing he could. he shudders, for the first time ever in front of someone, when he sees the gun pointed at him in contrast to the electric toothbrush in his hand. he gulps, then glances at the open door. he runs into the dark room, hand reaching for the drawer where he keeps his weapon. but no matter how much yunho tugs, it stays shut. that bastard.
the other man catches yunho off guard, turning him around and hitting him with the weapon. yunho stumbles back, nose and teeth in incredible pain.
"fucking hell, i thought i killed you!" yunho says, spitting blood on the floor.
the hooded man in front of him only smiles, still holding the gun up. he tilts his head, somewhat creepily, sending yunho shivers up his spine. he takes a step back, realizing just how unsafe he is in his own home.
"third time's the charm, right? you failed the first two, even when you had the upper hand. now that we are even..." the hooded man tosses a spare gun on the floor, then kicks it yunho's way, "...let me see you. do your own damn dirty business."
"where is she?"
"safe from you."
"where the fuck is my sister?!"
"TAKE THE DAMN GUN AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN." mingi booms, having enough of the man in front of him.
yunho takes it, wasting no time in pointing the gun at mingi, finger hesitating to pull the trigger. mingi only laughs, not showing fear at all. yunho steps back, as if that's going to save him. he only hopes that you didn't willingly go with mingi. that no matter how bad it sounds, you went against your own will. he would be very disappointed if the first thing is true.
"pull the trigger, yunho."
something is not right.
"go on, that's what you wanted."
he is too calm.
"think about your little sister."
no, not you. he can't die and leave you behind.
"pull the damn trigger, jeong yunho!"
and yunho does, except, no bullet comes out. the weapon only clicks, and yunho barely has time to think of his next step when he hears a gunshot. he doesn't feel pain. he only feels weak, body threatening to fall. is this what it feels like to die? you don't feel anything? you just get dizzy and fall asleep?
"doc-" mingi gasps, and yunho finally looks at him. "what have you done?"
his eyes fall on your figure at the door. you hold a gun in your hand, shaking. mingi falls on the ground, and you run to yunho, handing him the weapon.
"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," you sob, hiding behind your brother.
"it's okay," yunho says, shielding you from mingi.
he doesn't really have to, because mingi coughs on the ground, blood spilling from his mouth and down his chin. why, he repeats, eyes piercing yours. you want to help him, even though you brought him to that state. but yunho stops you, keeping your body behind him as he points the loaded gun at the wounded man.
he doesn't need to shoot again. mingi lets out a final cough, hand slipping from his wounded chest and on the floor. his head falls to the side, eyes still locked on you, lifeless. you sob, loud. you now have someone's blood on your hands. not just anyone's, but blood of the man who your promised to heal. instead, you killed him. but it was either him or yunho, and you didn't have much choice. keeping both alive was impossible, and you didn't want to lose yunho. not your only family. family that is finally starting to feel like one.
yunho drops the gun on the floor, turning to hug you. you wail into his chest, fingers gripping the silk and tears wetting it. he hushes you, hand rubbing your back as he shields you from the unpleasant sight.
"it's finally over. you're safe now."
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taglist: *i tagged everyone who wanted a part two, if you want me to remove you, please dm me :)
@mingitheii @biancaness @dionysushyung @pearltinyy @jeon-ify @staytiny23 @vantediary @mingiswifeyyyy @aricebxmb @jadenance @seoft-for-seo @sunrins @mimisamisasa @nini4m @kyolovescats
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