PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Claire Keane
The Stonewall Inn
if i look back, i am lost
Show & Tell
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
izzy's playlists!
untitled
taylor price
todays bird
$LAYYYTER
macklin celebrini has autism
No title available
tumblr dot com
No title available
Noah Kahan
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
#extradirty
hello vonnie
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador
seen from Chile
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
@lily-lilaa
•.•.xikers masterlist•.•.
go to rules before asking please!
key: 🍄- fluff 🪐-angst 🧸-crack 🔮-suggestive 🫧 - comfort
|•minjae
🫧 What’s the matter baby?
|•junmin
empty for now…
|•sumin
empty for now…
|•jinsik
empty for now…
|•hyunwoo
empty for now…
|•junghoon
🍄, 🧸, since you wanna be special
|•seeun
empty for now…
|•yujun
empty for now…
|•hunter
empty for now…
|•yechan
empty for now…
|•ot10
empty for now…
Haii!! 🤍 I’ve been interested in your content for a while now, and I honestly love it so much! I have a little request :3 If you ever have the time, could you do anything that comes to mind for Junghoon? It doesn’t have to be anything specific at all—I’ve been craving any Junghoon content I can get 😭😓I’d seriously appreciate anything. Thank you so much for everything you do!! 🫶
since you wanna be special
authors note- thanks for the request💖 i had a few ideas so i wrote the one i deemed best so lmk if you want any other ideas!
sneak peak- 2am in the xikers dorm and yet theres two little mice in the kitchen that won’t quite listen to the others.
contains: fluff, swears, suggestive jokes at the end, this IS set as 11 members (reader being number 11, duh), dormmates to a what are we? kinda situation, junghoon ragebaits reader bc i said so :) .
asks- open!
heyy!! can i request nexz comforting user on her period? yes I'm dying with cramps rn
🩷 love language: taking care of you. | nexz
ESSENCE ➜ everyone has their own way of showing they care, especially on the days you need them the most.
@hyunjinights @gongyuz @anyapsesh @helawho@fleurenjun @flustaered17 @faayzeswords @pachu-verse-09
⋆𐙚₊˚────────────˚₊𐙚⋆
🐧 Tomoya
The second you tell Tomoya you’re on your period…
He immediately goes into boyfriend mode.
“What do you need?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
The next hour consists of him walking around the store with his notes app open from the notes he had taken on his sisters.
Heating pad.
Chocolate.
Pads.
Pain medicine.
Favorite snacks.
He’s checking things off one by one.
When he gets home, he proudly walks in carrying three grocery bags.
“…Moya.”
“What?”
“I only asked for chocolate.”
“I panicked.”
From then on, he spends the rest of the day rubbing little circles on your lower stomach while you lay between his legs watching movies.
Every now and then he’ll quietly ask,
“Is it helping?”
Even if it’s only helping a little…
He smiles like he just solved world peace.
🐻❄️ Haru
Haru is all about comfort.
The second he notices you’re not feeling well, he’s already changing into comfy clothes.
“Movie?”
“Mhm.”
“You pick.”
Then the two of you spend the entire day under one blanket.
He’ll play with your hair.
Rub your back.
Bring you water before you even realize you’re thirsty.
Sometimes neither of you says anything for an hour.
He just likes knowing you’re comfortable.
If you end up falling asleep on his shoulder…
He refuses to move.
Even if his arm falls asleep.
“It’s okay.”
“Haru, your arm…”
“I’ll survive.”
🐈⬛ Yu
Yu’s love language is feeding you.
“You ate?”
“…Not yet.”
He’s already in the kitchen.
Soup.
Rice.
Tea.
Fruit.
He somehow remembers every single craving you have.
You mention once that you like strawberry Pocky when you’re on your period…
Guess what’s magically waiting in his pantry every month.
He also becomes surprisingly strict.
“Drink your water.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
“…Yes, chef.”
🐶 So Geon
So Geon acts like he doesn’t know what to do.
“So…”
“So?”
“…This sucks.”
“It does.”
He disappears for twenty minutes.
When he comes back, he’s carrying your favorite snacks, a plushie you pointed out weeks ago, and a heating pad.
“I thought you didn’t know what to get.”
“I asked my sisters.”
“You called them?”
“…Maybe.”
He’ll never admit how much research he did.
Instead he’ll shove everything into your lap.
“There.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
“…Thank you.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
🦌 Seita
Seita is the definition of gentle.
He’ll make you a cup of tea exactly how you like it.
Warm up your heating pad.
Lay an extra blanket over you.
Massage your hands if they’re cold.
Massage your lower back if your cramps are bad.
He never asks a million questions.
Instead, he’ll quietly check in.
“Need anything?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Five minutes later he’s back.
“Still nothing?”
You laugh.
“No.”
He smiles.
“Just making sure.”
🐿️ Hyui
Hyui’s goal is simple.
Get you to smile.
He’ll build a blanket fort in the living room.
Show up with matching pajamas.
Order every dessert you’ve ever said you liked.
Put on your favorite comfort movies.
If you start crying over something completely random…
He doesn’t laugh.
He just scoots closer.
“Wanna talk?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Five minutes later he’s making you laugh so hard your stomach hurts for a completely different reason.
🦦 Yuki
Yuki is the biggest overthinker.
The first time you tell him you’re on your period…
He opens his notes app.
“What are you doing?”
“Research.”
“…Research?”
“So next month I’ll already know.”
From then on, he literally keeps a little mental list.
Your favorite snacks.
The drinks you always want.
The movies you watch every month.
The way you like your heating pad warmed up.
By the time your next period comes around…
You don’t even have to ask.
Everything is already waiting for you.
“You remembered?”
“Of course.”
“You’ve been planning this?”
“…Maybe.”
He’s embarrassingly proud of himself when you smile.
“See?”
“I told you I was prepared.”
this is so adorable i deadass started floating and broke through my fucking ceiling.
neglected — # jobe bellingham
synopsis — after months of always coming second to everyone else, y/n finally tells jobe the one thing she’s been too afraid to admit: she doesn’t feel chosen anymore.
# warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive at the end but no explicit scenes
# wc: 4.2k
# mia’s note: i say i post all of the things i already have written before finishing amongst it all so we don’t say bye to michael and y/n just yet. reqs are open and my inbox is always open to talks. with sooo much love, mia.
masterlist
the first time it happened, she didn’t think much of it. football was football. it came first because it had to.
training twice a day, recovery sessions, media obligations, sponsor shoots, flights that blurred into hotels and stadiums until the weeks stopped feeling like weeks. she knew exactly what she’d signed up for when she’d fallen in love with jobe.
she never expected all of him. just some of him.
a text before bed or an hour together. maybe even a lazy breakfast if they were lucky.
that was enough. it really was.
so when he texted
jobe ❤️
boys want to grab dinner after training. rain check? love you.
she smiled to herself, sent back a little heart, and heated up the pasta she’d made for two. she packed the second portion into a container and slid it into the fridge. he’d probably eat it after training tomorrow.
no point wasting food.
the second time, it was a bit more disappointing because she’d already done her hair. not because they were doing anything special. but he had said; “you’ve got me all evening tomorrow.”
and that was especial on its own.
those words had stayed with her through the entire work day.
she bought strawberries, his favorite drink, the expensive cookies he always pretended weren’t worth buying before somehow finishing half the packet.
by six-thirty she’d lit one candle. by seven she checked the time, and by seven fifteen her phone buzzed.
jobe ❤️
i’m so sorry.
adam convinced everyone to go bowling. haven’t seen them properly in weeks.
can we do tomorrow?
she stared at the screen and then looked around the apartment.
there were two mugs. two plates. his keys abandoned beside the fruit bowl where he always dropped them. his training boots by the front door because he’d forgotten to put them away. the strawberries sitting in cold water in the sink.
they couldn’t do tomorrow. they could, but she didn’t want tomorrow.
still, she typed:
of course.
deleted it and then typed again.
have fun ❤️
he reacted with a heart.
and that was it.
tomorrow became next week. next week became after the away match. after the away match became maybe sunday.
sunday became “sorry, babe.”
always sorry. always busy. always another promise.
she knew he was sorry. she did at first, but now she wasn’t so sure. was he really sorry if it kept happening?
it wasn’t dramatic. that was the worst part. nothing exploded and nobody screamed. there wasn’t some awful betrayal.
but being chosen second again and again and again stopped feeling accidental and started becoming a tendency that she stopped being okay with.
“what are you smiling at?”
y/n looked up from the café table.
her friend emily nodded toward her phone.
“oh,” she hadn’t realized she’d been smiling.
“jobe?”
y/n nodded. “he finally has saturday off.”
emily grinned. “oh my god. actual miracle.”
“i know.”
“when was your last proper date?”
y/n frowned and thought about it for a few seconds.
emily’s smile slowly disappeared. “you don’t know.”
“i…”
she tried counting backwards.
the charity gala? no. he’d left halfway through because some of the boys wanted drinks.
his birthday? also no. that became a surprise dinner the team organized.
the beach? months. many months ago.
“…i actually don’t know.”
emily didn’t say anything and she also didn’t need to, because it was weird. it wasn’t okay. and it didn’t need to be said to know.
saturday.
finally.
no training. no match. no travel.
nothing. just her and jobe and the time they’d both been craving.
y/n woke up before him like she usually did.
sunlight spilled through the curtains, painting soft golden lines across the bedroom. beside her, jobe was still asleep, one arm stretched across the mattress where she’d been moments earlier.
she smiled to herself.
today. finally, today.
she slipped quietly out of bed so she wouldn’t wake him.
she cleaned the apartment. changed their bedsheets, humming quietly to herself as she tucked the corners in the way he never could.
bought flowers because he always joked she treated the flat like an elderly grandmother’s cottage.
she laughed to herself while arranging them anyway.
by noon she’d already planned everything.
jobe had left a little earlier to meet one of the physios for a quick recovery session, promising he’d be home by lunchtime.
“don’t make plans without me,” he’d laughed before leaving.
“wouldn’t dream of it,” she’d smiled back.
she believed him.
breakfast together. walk through the city. movie. dinner.
nothing extravagant.
just them. and that was so much more than enough.
but at one o’clock her phone buzzed.
jobe ❤️
morning beautiful.
she smiled immediately and another message appeared.
jobe ❤️
small change of plans.
her stomach sank before she’d even opened it and the smile faded as fast as it came.
jobe ❤️
the lads are doing a barbecue.
promise i’ll see you tomorrow.
she read it once. then twice. then a third time.
the flowers suddenly looked ridiculous. she forgot the joy she’d felt just a few hours ago. the joy that always seemed to come and to the same way every time.
she didn’t answer immediately.
five minutes passed. and then ten.
okay.
he liked the message. liked it. not replied. not “i’m sorry.” not “i know we planned today.”
did he not care that he had ruined the plans that they’d made for the millionth time?
she placed the phone face down. the apartment was silent. too silent.
she stood in the middle of the kitchen for a moment, surrounded by the groceries she’d bought for the two of them.
the flowers she’d arranged that morning brightened the windowsill. the movie she’d picked out waited paused on the television. his favorite cookies sat unopened on the counter.
everything in the apartment looked like him, yet he wasn’t there.
eventually, she wandered into the bedroom and sat on the edge of their bed and stared at the wall.
the barbecue filled his instagram stories.
well, not his but his friends’.
someone filming him flipping burgers and someone throwing a football toward him.
jobe laughing so hard he doubled over.
another video of everyone piled into the pool.
the caption: ‘finally got the whole gang together.’
as if the gang wasn’t together like three times a week.
y/n watched every single story. she didn’t even want to, but she could not stop.
there he was. smiling, relaxed. looking lighter than he’d looked in weeks. exactly the version of him she’d been waiting to spend time with.
only someone else got him first. again.
sunday came.
and after training, he actually came home while she was still awake.
late, but he came home and she could see him before he was gone again.
she heard his keys rattle against the front door before the lock clicked open.
“baby?” he called as he stepped inside.
she looked up from the sofa. “hey.”
he smiled the moment he saw her.
his hair was still damp from showering. he was wearing a grey hoodie and training shorts.
the familiar smile that always made her chest feel warm.
“there she is.”
he leaned in to kiss her and she kissed him back automatically.
loving him had become instinct.
“missed you.”
“i missed you too.”
he stepped inside and wrapped an arm around her waist.
“sorry about yesterday.”
“it’s okay.”
he smiled. “thanks for understanding.”
those words landed strangely. and she could feel when it started to bother her, because why had he said that?
not ‘i’m sorry i hurt you.’
not ‘i know i disappointed you.’
just ‘thanks for understanding’ as though she’d done him a favor.
she didn’t push at that. he was finally home and she didn’t feel like ruining it with a dumb fight over a wrong choice of words.
they sat in the sofa after she showered and watched a film.
well, he watched a film. but halfway through, his phone buzzed.
he looked at it, smiled, typed something that made him smile even more, and then locked it.
three minutes later, another buzz. and then another, and then another.
she tried not to notice. she really did. until he laughed quietly at whatever message had come through.
“what?”
he looked up. “hm?”
“you laughed.”
“oh,” he smiled sheepishly. “the boys.”
“what about them?”
“they’re planning a golf day.”
y/n felt a slight pinch on her chest. “oh.”
“they’re idiots.”
“i’m sure.”
he chuckled and she looked back toward the television. only thing was that she’d stopped following the movie almost twenty minutes earlier.
“do you want takeaway tonight?”
he looked over. “hm?”
“dinner.”
“oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “i actually promised i’d jump on playstation with the lads tonight.”
something inside her gave way. it wasn’t fair anymore. it never had been, but it had reached a limit.
the home she’d built with jobe didn’t feel like a home anymore. she had given up everything and moved to germany when they both realized video calls and frequent visits weren’t cutting it anymore.
but now she wondered if he even wanted her there now, because it didn’t feel like it.
she didn’t feel neglected, she felt unwanted.
“right.”
“but i’ll stay another hour.”
as though that fixed it. as though love worked like overtime.
he smiled, completely unaware. “you don’t mind, do you?”
there it was. the question he’d stopped asking because he’d grown used to one answer.
no. i don’t mind. i’m okay. go. have fun.
she opened her mouth and the words were already there waiting and ready. the same ones she’d given him every single time.
but this time they refused to come out.
she could feel the anger simmering through her body, because jobe was no kid and his antics weren’t just painful, they were tiring.
“jobe.”
“hm?”
“when was the last time you actually chose me?”
he frowned. “what?”
her voice cracked. “don’t make me explain the question.”
he stared at her.
she laughed a short, humourless laugh that disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
“no, seriously,” she shook her head. “when was it?”
he blinked. “y/n…”
she stood before he could finish. “i’m asking you,” her hands flew up in frustration. “when was the last time you had an entire day off and your first thought was, ‘i want to spend today with my girlfriend’?”
he opened his mouth but nothing came out.
she watched him think. actually think.
how sad was that? that he actually had to think about the last time he chose his girlfriend?
his eyebrows knitted together as he searched his memory and she watched every second of it.
watched him struggle. watched him come up empty.
her eyes burned.
“that’s unbelievable,” she whispered.
he looked up immediately. “baby—”
“no,” she stepped backwards. “don’t call me that right now.”
her voice shook. “because i’m standing here asking my own boyfriend when he last chose me…” she laughed again. this time it sounded closer to a sob. “…and you can’t answer.”
“i’m trying—”
“that’s the problem!” she cried. “you’re trying!”
tears spilled over before she could stop them. she wiped them away angrily with the heel of her hand. her chest was aching horribly and her head was pounding, she felt trapped inside of her own skin.
“you shouldn’t have to think this hard!”
he flinched. she saw it and she didn’t soften. because she’d been soft for months.
she laughed bitterly. “do you know how many people i’ve defended you to?” she didn’t wait for an answer. “literally everyone.”
“‘he doesn’t mean it.’ ‘he loves me.’ ‘he’ll make it up to me.’”
another tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away roughly. “and every single time you proved them right instead of me.”
his face fell. “y/n…”
she shook her head hard. “i’m angry.”
she pressed a hand against her chest as if it would make it hurt less. “i’m so angry,” her voice broke. “do you know why?”
he couldn’t answer.
“because i miss you,” she laughed through another sob. “isn’t that pathetic?”
she looked around their apartment. their apartment. the place they’d picked together.
the sofa they’d argued over in the furniture shop because he wanted grey and she insisted beige would make it feel warmer.
his boots by the front door, his hoodie over the dining chair, his coffee mug still in the sink.
everything in the apartment reminded her that he lived there and somehow she still missed him.
she looked back at him. eyes red and cheeks wet. “how can i miss someone i live with?”
the question shattered something inside him because he didn’t have an answer.
she shook her head. “you’re here,” she pointed toward the floor. “your clothes are here, your boots are here. your toothbrush is here. but you…” her voice became almost impossibly quiet. “…you never are.”
the room fell silent because what could he possibly say?
she took a shaky breath and then another before looking him straight in the eyes.
“i’m not asking you to choose me over football,” she said firmly. “i never have. i’m asking why…” another tear escaped. “…every single time football finally lets you breathe you still don’t choose me.”
he couldn’t even pretend he had an answer.
the silence after her words didn’t just fill the apartment, it settled into it.
into the walls. into the untouched mugs on the coffee table. into the film still playing quietly in the background, actors laughing at jokes neither of them heard.
jobe stared at her and she stared back. waiting not for an apology but for an answer. for anything.
“i don’t know.” his voice barely reached her. it was so quiet she almost thought she’d imagined it.
but she hadn’t. and she laughed the kind of laugh someone lets out when they’re trying very, very hard not to completely fall apart. “you don’t know.”
he swallowed. “i’m trying to think—”
“i know you are,” she cut him off immediately. “i can see you trying.”
her voice cracked for the third time. “that’s what’s making me so angry.”
she wiped beneath her eyes before another tear could fall.
she hated crying. she hated that he was seeing her cry.
she hated even more that she was crying because she had to convince the man she loved that she deserved to be chosen.
“i shouldn’t have to ask you that,” her breathing became uneven. “that shouldn’t be a difficult question.”
“i know.”
“no you don’t.”
he took a hesitant step toward her. “y/n—”
“goodness, jobe, stop,” she immediately stepped back.
the movement was small. barely noticeable. but it felt like she’d shoved him halfway across the room because she has never stepped away from him.
his chest tightened. she saw it and she didn’t care. because she’d spent months swallowing every ounce of disappointment to protect his feelings.
she didn’t have anything left. everything around her looked like a home but she’d never felt lonelier inside it.
“i wake up beside you,” she said quietly. “and before i’ve even finished making coffee you’re gone.”
he looked away.
it was more painful than she thought. she didn’t know she had felt this was about the whole situation until it became too much.
she would fall asleep by herself, and then be comes home, kissed her on the forehead, tells her he missed her, and she’s supposed to forget that he had eight free hours that and every single one of them belonged to somebody else.
jobe’s throat tightened painfully. “i never…” he struggled to speak. “i never thought of it like that.”
she nodded. “i know.”
“i would’ve changed,” he whispered. “if i’d known.”
she stared at him and her voice became quieter. “you should’ve known. i shouldn’t have to explain to the man i live with that i’d like to spend time with him. i shouldn’t have to compete with your friends.”
“you’re not competing.”
“aren’t i?”
he winced. she was right. she was right and she truly wished she wasn’t.
“‘he said we’d spend today together,’” she smiled bitterly. “then your message came,” she swallowed. “and i remember just staring at it. because i knew exactly what i was going to reply. i’m terrified that if i ever tell you not to you’ll resent me for it.”
jobe felt physically sick. he had made y/n, his girlfriend, the person he was sure loved the most in the world, feel like an option.
was that how she’d felt all this time?
like an option?
he ran both hands over his face. his breathing had become uneven.
“god…” he whispered. “i’ve made you feel like that?”
“yes you have.”
he looked at her as though he was seeing her for the first time.
the woman who knew how he took his coffee, who washed his training kits because she knew he’d forget, who always stocked the fridge with his favorite drinks before a match.
who stayed awake until two in the morning whenever they played away because she couldn’t sleep until she knew he’d made it back safely.
she’d spent months loving him in a hundred tiny ways and he’d been too busy looking everywhere else to notice.
he took another careful step and she immediately stepped back again.
the movement was instinctive. small and almost invisible like the first time she did it minutes ago.
but it stopped him in his tracks. she moved away from him instead of toward him. again.
and he realized, with a fear so sharp it stole the air from his lungs, he didn’t know how to get her back.
the apartment stayed quiet long after the conversation ended. she had disappeared into the hallway without another word.
jobe stood rooted to the living room floor, listening to the sound of cupboards opening then closing.
the soft rustle of fabric. he knew exactly what she was taking.
the blanket.
his chest tightened and he followed her a few moments later.
she was already spreading it across the sofa.
slowly. carefully. like it wasn’t the first time she’d done it. like she’d already decided this before he’d even asked her to stay.
“please don’t,” his voice sounded hoarse.
she didn’t answer. she only bent down to straighten the pillow.
“y/n,” he took another step. “please.”
finally, she looked at him.
her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were flushed from crying.
she looked exhausted.
“i can’t,” she looked toward the bedroom. “every time i walk in there i remember lying awake. waiting for you,” the words were barely audible. “i’d hear every car outside and wonder if it was yours. a few nights i even got up because i thought i heard your keys.”
she looked down. “it wasn’t.”
another silence.
“i don’t want to sleep in there tonight.”
he looked toward the bedroom. toward the bed they’d picked together.
the one she’d spent an hour arguing over because she wanted something soft enough that sunday mornings could last until noon.
he’d laughed when she’d insisted on testing every mattress in the shop. “we’re going to look ridiculous.”
“i don’t care,” she’d grinned. “if we’re buying a bed together, i’m making sure it’s perfect.”
he remembered that day so clearly. he remembered carrying boxes up three flights of stairs.
her laughing because he’d refused to read the instructions and pizza on the floor because they hadn’t unpacked the table yet.
their first night there. her curled against his chest whispering that “this finally feels like home.”
his throat burned. when had it stopped feeling like that for her?
after what felt like forever, he walked into the bedroom alone.
he stopped in the doorway and the room looked exactly the same.
he sat down on the edge of the mattress, the empty side of the bed looked impossibly large.
he reached out instinctively and his hand landed on cold sheets.
he hadn’t realized until that moment how every single night, no matter how late he came home, he’d reached for her without thinking.
most of the time she’d already be asleep and sometimes she’d grumble because his hands were freezing.
sometimes she’d mumble, “you’re late,” without opening her eyes.
and he’d kiss her forehead. “missed you.”
she’d always smiled half asleep. always.
tonight there was no one there.
he didn’t sleep.
he tried. but he stare at the ceiling, close his eyes, and then open them again.
every time he drifted off, he’d remember something she’d said.
your phone started making me sad.
i miss someone i live with.
i shouldn’t have to compete with your friends.
i’d started expecting you not to choose me.
each sentence replayed until it felt carved into his chest. and around three in the morning, he got out of bed. he couldn’t take it anymore.
the apartment was dark as he padded quietly toward the living room.
she was asleep. or at least she looked like she was. curled tightly beneath the blanket with one arm tucked beneath her cheek.
she looked uncomfortable. too small for the sofa.
he stood there for a long time just admiring her. she was so beautiful.
he realized that all this time he hadn’t figured that he was being that way towards her because even if he didn’t act like it, he always thought of her.
he wished to go home to their bed when training had been too long and he looked at her with the same honeymoon eyes he had whenever her beauty was too much to bear.
he wanted to wake her. to tell her he was sorry. to beg her to come upstairs.
but he walked back into the bedroom instead.
came back carrying another blanket and then another pillow.
he tucked the blanket gently over her and placed the pillow beside her. but then he froze when he felt her stir slightly.
“jobe?” her voice was thick with sleep.
“yeah.”
she blinked slowly. then looked at the extra blanket. “thanks.”
just that. then she rolled over again, facing away from him.
he stood there for another minute before quietly walking back upstairs.
the next morning felt strange.
normally, she woke him first with music playing softly in the kitchen. coffee already brewing. her humming while making breakfast. the apartment was always alive before he even opened his eyes.
this morning he was only met with silence.
he got dressed, walked downstairs, and she was already sitting at the dining table.
a mug between both hands. eyes fixed on nothing.
“morning.”
she looked up briefly. “morning.”
he opened the fridge and there was breakfast. for one.
he closed it again.
she noticed. her fingers tightened slightly around her mug. “i wasn’t sure if you’d be here.”
he looked at her. the words weren’t cruel because y/n herself wasn’t. they were honest.
he sat down across from her. “i called training.”
she frowned. “what?”
“i told them i wasn’t coming.”
her eyebrows knitted together immediately. “jobe.”
“i don’t care.”
“you have training.”
“i don’t care,” his voice wavered. “not today.”
“isn’t that ironic?”
she didn’t answer.
“months,” he whispered. “months of you asking for one day and now i’d give up every session this week just to get yesterday back.”
she closed her eyes and he continued before she could stop him.
“i’ve been thinking all night.”
“jobe—”
“please,” he shook his head. “please let me finish.”
she stayed quiet.
he looked down at his hands. he was a bit more desperate now. after a night without her in the same bed, he realized he did not want to lose her. and that everything they were facing looked like she was about to slip completely from him.
“i’ve spent months letting the person i love the most feel like she had to fit around my life…” he laughed bitterly. “…instead of building one with her.”
she looked away.
“i’m not asking you to forgive me today,” he shook his head. “i don’t deserve that.”
“i’m asking you…” his voice wavered again. “…to let me earn you back.”
she didn’t answer immediately.
instead, she looked at him. his eyes were bloodshot, his hair was a mess. he looked like he hadn’t slept.
he looked scared. but not scared she’d stay angry, scared she’d stop loving him.
“come here.”
the words left her quietly.
he blinked. “what?”
“come here.”
he stood so quickly the chair scraped against the floor and he stopped beside her. hesitating.
like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch her anymore.
she stood too and they looked at each other for a moment.
then she wrapped her arms around him.
he broke. completely. his arms circled her so tightly it was almost desperate.
as he buried his face against her shoulder she felt him shaking.
“i’m so sorry,” it came out muffled. broken. “i’m so, so sorry.”
he said it again. and again. like saying it enough times might somehow undo everything.
she cried too. holding him just as tightly.
after a long time, she pulled back just enough to look at him. “this doesn’t disappear today.”
he nodded immediately.
“i know.”
“i’m still hurt.”
“i know.”
“i’m still angry.”
“i know.”
“but you know what i also am?”
he raised his eyebrows as a signal for her to continue speaking.
“sexually deprived.”
jobe’s eyes darkened instantly as a smile spread across his face.
it was going to be a looooong day.
“i’ll make sure to fix that,” he kissed her lips softly. “and you won’t ever have to wonder again.”
@ moulinrougemo
this is so fucking beautiful wtf
business casual ! park seeun
⤷ in which your hot coworker catches you staring and does something about it.
nsfw! coworkers, workplace romance, office sex, janitor's closet, semi-public sex/risk of being caught, p in v, size difference, creampie, wc: ~2.4k
working in the office was easily the most boring thing you’ve ever done. the numbing fluorescent lights, the constant mechanical printer sounds, all of it.
which would’ve been unbearable, if your coworker park seeun weren’t so hot.
and today, you had heard him before you saw him, his slow footsteps, crisp loafers clicking against the tile. you didn’t look up at first, fingers still hovering over your keyboard, pretending to care very deeply about the spreadsheet on your monitor.
then he passed your desk. and holy hell, your heart stopped momentarily.
seeun always looked good. but this? this was ridiculous.
you stared. openly. shamelessly.
his suit was charcoal gray with thin white pinstripes, and god, it did absolutely nothing to help your concentration. the jacket hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, the fabric stretching just enough when he moved. it tapered neatly at his waist, emphasizing every line of him in a way that felt very unprofessional to notice. his tie sat crisp against his shirt, and his hair slightly ruffled like he’d run a hand through it without thinking.
seeun was already tall, the unfair kind of tall that made everyone else in the office seem slightly misproportioned by comparison, but the suit somehow made it worse. it looked less like office attire and more like a deliberate attack on your ability to think straight.
“morning.” his voice snapped you back into your body.
you hesitated slightly, eyes flying up, only to find him already looking at you. there was the faintest hint of amusement in his expression, but enough to make heat creep into your cheeks.
“m-morning,” you managed.
his gaze lingered a second too long. not obvious enough for anyone else to notice, but you felt the slow drag of his eyes and the tiny pause before he continued walking.
your stomach flipped.
you tried to work, but concentration was impossible when your brain kept replaying the way he confidently walked around the office like he was a model. and by the time you stood to grab a document from the printer, you were still flustered wondering if you'd only imagined him staring at you in that moment or if he really had.
and of course seeun was there too, standing by the printer, sleeves pushed up just slightly, tie loosened now. it was like the universe placed him here specifically to torment you.
the machine whirred between you. you stood there quietly, looking anywhere but him. he looked down at you, eyes slightly squinted. your pulse jumped.
“you okay?” he asked. too casually. too knowingly.
“fine,” you said quickly. then, because your mouth had apparently declared war on your dignity- “you just… look really good today.”
im so normal about this totally
RAHHHHHH NEW XIKERS WRITERRRR (me checking the xikers x reader tag literally everyday 🥴) welcome in thank you for joining us! Id like to send a request for minjae if its okay! The past couple weeks ive been having really bad period hormone imbalance so ive been emotionally sensitive and easy to cry, I was wondering if you might be able to make a minjae comfort fic along those lines! Something soft and domestic would be great 🤗
What’s the matter, baby?
authors note - tysm for my first request/ fic! I hope you feel better soon💝
sneak peek- Minjae comes home tired every day, but seeing reader crying like that in their bed? He’d forget anything else and focus on only reader until he knows shes alright again.
req
home in you
jobe bellingham x reader
when denise starts worrying that jobe has become distant while living in germany, she asks jude to check on him. expecting to find an overworked footballer, jude instead walks in on an awkward surprise before finally meeting the girl who’s completely changed jobe’s life.
taglist (tw) : jobe bellingham x fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, family fluff, protective brother!jude, ashlyn castro, denise bellingham, implied sex
a.n: starting a f1 series so requests will be closed for now. if you request something now, it’ll be done after a while 😓😓
jude had always thought jobe was the easiest one to worry about.
out of the two of them, jobe had always been the quiet one. the one who never made a fuss, never caused trouble, never needed anyone hovering over him. growing up, he was the kid who would disappear into his room for hours, only emerging when dinner was ready or someone called his name. if something upset him, he kept it to himself. if something made him happy, he’d smile to himself before telling anyone else. he had always carried his emotions like fragile glass.
everyone had assumed that meant he was fine because jobe had always seemed so capable. so mature. so independent.
he was the type of person who insisted he could carry all the shopping bags himself. who’d say, “i’ve got it,” before anyone even offered to help. the type who checked everyone else was okay before even considering how he was feeling.
if anyone could survive living abroad on his own, it was jobe. or at least that’s what jude had always believed. apparently, denise wasn’t so convinced anymore.
“he barely calls,” denise sighed over the phone one evening.
jude leaned back against the sofa, his phone balanced between his shoulder and ear while absentmindedly flicking through channels on the television.
“when he does call, he’s distracted. he sounds tired. i ask him what he’s been doing and all i get is, ‘i’ve just been busy, mum.’”
“mum…” jude chuckled softly. “he’s twenty.”
“i know he’s twenty but he’s still my baby.”
jude smiled despite himself. that sentence had never changed. not when jude moved away. not when he signed his first professional contract. not when either of them became adults. to denise, they’d always be her boys.
he glanced across the living room where ashlyn was curled up in the corner of the sofa, scrolling aimlessly on her phone.
she looked up when she noticed him smiling. “what?”
he mouthed, “my mum.” ashlyn smiled knowingly.
“what do you want me to do?” jude asked into the phone.
“go and see him.”
“…seriously?”
“please.” denise pleaded. “i don’t know why, jude. i just have this feeling.”
he rubbed the back of his neck. “okay.”
“promise?”
“…i promise.”
—
which was exactly how, on his only free day that week, jude found himself standing outside jobe’s apartment building in germany with ashlyn beside him.
she tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket as they looked up at the building. “your mum’s convinced he’s joined a cult, isn’t she?”
jude laughed. “honestly, i think she’d believe that before she’d believe he’s got a girlfriend.”
ashlyn snorted. “fair.”
they made their way upstairs, jude pulling the spare key from his pocket. their mum had insisted he keep it months ago.
“just in case.”
at the time, he’d rolled his eyes. now, he was quietly grateful she’d been stubborn.
the apartment was still. peaceful. the sort of silence that only existed in homes people genuinely enjoyed being in.
jude stepped inside first. “jobe?”
no answer. he frowned.
then he heard voices, soft and muffled coming from somewhere further down the hallway. he froze instantly. ashlyn nearly walked into his back. “what?”
jude slowly lifted one finger to his lips.
she frowned as he tilted his head ever so slightly towards the hallway. the voices became clearer.
not words. moans.
and then “…oh.” the realisation hit ashlyn all at once. her eyes widened so much they were almost cartoonish. “…oh.”
jude immediately turned around.“absolutely not.”
without another word, he ushered ashlyn straight back towards the front door. they closed it as quietly as they possibly could before practically speed-walking down the corridor outside.
they made it all the way to the lift before ashlyn completely lost it. she burst into laughter, the kind that made tears gather in the corners of her eyes.
“don’t.” jude pointed at her accusingly “don’t even start.”
“he’s never recovering from this.”
“i know.”
“you look traumatised.”
“because i am traumatised.”
she laughed even harder. “jude…”
“that’s my little brother.”
“he’s twenty.”
“i know he’s twenty.”
“then why do you look like you’ve just witnessed a crime?”
he pinched the bridge of his nose. “because in my head he’s still fourteen.”
“well…” she wiped beneath her eyes. “he definitely isn’t fourteen.”
jude groaned. “please stop talking about it.”
“coffee?”
“…please.”
—
they ended up spending almost an hour at a café around the corner.
or rather…
ashlyn spent an hour relentlessly teasing him while jude tried very hard to erase the last thirty seconds of his memory.
by the time they’d finished their drinks, he decided enough time had passed.
hopefully.
when they got back upstairs, he made a point of knocking loudly against the open doorway before unlocking it.
“hello?”
footsteps echoed almost immediately.
“jude?”
jobe rounded the corner, stopping so suddenly he nearly stumbled over his own feet. he was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, put in a rush most likely as they were the wrong way, and halfway through wearing a black tee.
his eyes widened. “…what are you doing here?”
“checking you haven’t joined a cult.”
“…what?”
“long story.”
before jobe could even begin questioning him, another figure appeared behind him.
you paused beside him almost instinctively. you wore a black top (most likely jobes because it was massive) and checkered pyjama pants. you had a small limp as you walked, barely noticeable but short was the first thing jude noticed. you also looked beautiful in a soft way. you smiled shyly as you looked between the two brothers before extending a hand.
“hi… i’m y/n.”
before you even finished introducing yourself , jobe slipped yourfingers into his. he squeezed your hand automatically like he’d done it a thousand times before.
“it’s really nice to meet you both.” you spoke gently, smiling wider as you saw ashlyn.
you apologised for the apartment being a little messy, thanked them for making the trip over, and immediately asked if they’d like tea or coffee before anyone had even sat down.
and within five minutes, jude already understood why jobe sounded different these days.
there were framed photographs of the two of them decorated the shelves. one from christmas. one taken at the beach. another where you and jobe were laughing so hard the photo had blurred. a half-finished puzzle sat abandoned on the coffee table and two mugs rested beside it. a blanket had been bundled up in one corner of the sofa. there were tiny signs of both of you everywhere.
while y/n disappeared into the kitchen with ashlyn, talking about their lives, as she filled the kettle, jude finally looked at his brother. “mum’s worried sick.”
jobe sighed dramatically, dropping his head back against the sofa. “of course she is.”
“she thinks you’re shutting everyone out.”
he rubbed the back of his neck. “…i’m not.”
“then why haven’t you called?”
jobe stayed quiet for a moment. his eyes drifted towards the kitchen. towards you . “…because i’ve been happy.” his voice got quieter before saying. “i thought being independent meant doing everything alone.” he smiled to himself.“then she came along.” he laughed softly through his nose.“and suddenly i realised life didn’t actually have to feel that hard.”
~~
© laoiwvq’s work is laoiwvq’s work only and is not free to use!
soft spot | jude bellingham
request: jude bellingham + crippling baby fever. just moping around and pouting because his gf is adamant that they aren’t ready.
warnings: innuendos towards horniness/getting hard as well as like a smidge of a breeding kink but not intense or anything. baby that's not yours tries to nurse from you lol not explicit idk if that needs a warning, just fluff otherwise!
requests are OPEN if u wanna send in :)
the day starts with jude watching you from across the barbeque, his head lolling back, half-catatonic with boredom. you’re sitting on the grass, surrounded by half the squad’s children, all of them soft and sticky and demanding, and you—your skirt is rumpled at the knees, hair falling over your shoulder, a baby in your lap with a fist curled determinedly in your top, rooting with a little, frustrated whimper.
RULES!
asks will be open unless i say otherwise!!
if you send an ask it may take me a while to deal with it PLEASE bear with me and be patient
for now i’ll only be writing xikers but i may add some more groups (nexz, ampersandone, etc) once i get more comfortable with writing (feel free to say something you think i can improve e.g “you could do so and so to make such and such better” or “i think this/that wouldve been better rephrased”
it will be very much appreciated :)
what i will write:
basically anything, fluff, angst, crack, maybe suggestive.
basically anything that isnt in the will NOT write section.
what i will NOT write:
poo/piss kink (sorry wtf), ageplay, rape, stepcest, incest, anything along any abuse lines, probably smut for now, vomit.
kinda debating starting some writing ngl
might turn this into a half writing half yapping blog we’ll see what happens
Do you give out fic recs? I usually don't go here cause I'm a bit older than Jude, but have you come across any Jude x older reader fics? I just saw an edit and I have an itch😭🙏
The loud house by @myhobari - basically just fluff with dad!jude
Jude Bellingham x fem!reader (best friend/supermodel) by @nosugarallspice - smut
Off Limits by @/nosugarallspice - brothers best friend!jude smut
Held Above The Water by @juudesgirl - fluff where jude helps you because you cant swim basically
Best Friend's Mouth by @touchlinewhore - smut (blow job type shi)
also not to toot my own horn but i really like this fic i wrote recently - its reunion smut thats also funny and fluffy
There are many more but im having a really hard time to find them 😭😭
hope that helps! (check out my work to if you want i feel like ive been cooking)
nexz with someone that has skin conditions like ezcema oh my dayss i feel like theyd be so sweet about it
༄ nexz × reader with a skin condition༄
essence ➜ nexz learns every little way to make you feel comfortable, loved, and never like your skin is something you have to apologize for.
✧ requests are open!
@gongyuz @hyunjinights @fleurenjun @anyapsesh @helawho @flustaered17 @pachu-verse-12
🫧 ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 🫧
🐧 Tomoya
Tomoya notices your flare-ups before you do.
He catches the tiny things no one else ever seems to notice the way your sleeve keeps rubbing against your wrist, how you absentmindedly scratch the back of your neck while watching TV, or how you suddenly go quiet because your skin has started feeling uncomfortable.
He never points it out in a way that embarrasses you.
Instead, he quietly disappears for a minute before coming back with your moisturizer already in his hand.
“Can I?” he asks softly.
When you nod, he sits beside you, carefully rubbing the lotion over the irritated patches with the gentlest touch possible, making sure not to press too hard. His thumb brushes over your skin as if he’s afraid of hurting you.
“Tell me if it stings, okay?”
You laugh a little.
“You’ve memorized my routine better than I have.”
He smiles sheepishly.
“Well… I wanted to.”
There isn’t an ounce of hesitation on his face. He doesn’t flinch at the redness or ask questions that make you feel self-conscious. To him, this isn’t something strange or inconvenient.
It’s simply another way of taking care of you.
🐈⬛ Yu
Yu never lets you apologize for your skin.
Not once.
The first time you had a really bad flare-up, the two of you had plans to go out for dinner. You’d spent nearly an hour getting ready, hoping your skin would calm down enough for you to feel comfortable.
Instead, it only got worse.
You stared at yourself in the mirror before quietly grabbing your phone.
“I’m really sorry…”
“I don’t think I can go tonight.”
You sat there waiting for him to be disappointed.
Instead, your phone rang almost immediately.
“Hi.”
His voice was so normal it caught you off guard.
“So…”
He smiled through the phone.
“What movie are we watching tonight?”
You blinked.
“…What?”
“You said you weren’t feeling up to going out.”
“I know.”
“So…”
He shrugged, even though you couldn’t see him.
“I’ll come to you.”
Your eyes began to water.
“But we planned this for weeks.”
“And?”
“I ruined it.”
“You changed the location.”
“…Yu.”
“I’m serious.”
Within forty minutes, he was standing outside your front door with takeout in one hand and your favorite drink in the other.
When you opened the door, your first instinct was to hide part of your face.
He gently reached over, pulling your hand away.
“You don’t have to hide from me.”
He leaned down and kissed your forehead like nothing had changed.
Because to him…
Nothing had.
The two of you spent the rest of the night curled up beneath a mountain of blankets, watching movies until neither of you could keep your eyes open.
Halfway through, you quietly whispered,
“…Thank you.”
He looked over.
“For what?”
“For not making me feel bad.”
Yu smiled softly before pulling you a little closer.
“I don’t care where we are.”
“As long as I’m with you…”
He squeezed your hand.
“it’s still my favorite date.”
🐻❄️ Haru
Haru notices the days you avoid mirrors.
It isn’t obvious to anyone else.
You still smile.
You still laugh at his jokes.
You still tell everyone you’re okay.
But Haru notices the way your eyes never linger on your reflection for more than a second.
One morning, the two of you are getting ready together before heading out.
You’re standing in front of the bathroom mirror when you quietly sigh.
“I don’t think this outfit looks right.”
Haru looks over.
“It looks cute.”
“It’s not the outfit.”
You look down at your arms.
“My skin’s really bad today.”
He follows your gaze before looking back at you.
“So?”
You blink.
“So…”
“I don’t like how it looks.”
Haru walks over until he’s standing right in front of you.
He gently cups your face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever looked at you the way you look at yourself.”
“…What?”
“When I look at you…”
He smiles.
“I see my favorite person.”
He brushes your hair behind your ear.
“The girl who laughs so hard she snorts.”
You groan.
“Haru…”
“The girl who steals my hoodies.”
“They’re comfortable.”
“The girl who always reaches for my hand first.”
A small smile begins pulling at your lips.
“I don’t notice your skin first.”
“I notice…”
He kisses your forehead.
“…you.”
By the time the two of you leave the apartment, your sleeves are rolled back up.
Not because your skin suddenly changed…
But because the way you felt about yourself did.
🦌 Seita
Dating Seita means dating someone who accidentally becomes an expert on skincare.
Not because he has to.
Because he wants to.
One afternoon, you catch him standing in the skincare aisle reading the back of a moisturizer with the most serious expression on his face.
You quietly walk over.
“…Whatcha doing?”
He doesn’t even look up.
“This one has fragrance.”
“…Okay?”
“So it stays here.”
He places it back on the shelf before picking up another bottle.
“This one has ceramides.”
He smiles proudly.
“You like ceramides.”
You stare at him.
“…How do you know that?”
He shrugs.
“I listen.”
From that day forward, every shopping trip becomes a tiny scavenger hunt.
He’s checking labels.
Looking up ingredients.
Comparing reviews.
Eventually you start laughing.
“I think you know more than I do now.”
He smiles sheepishly.
“I just wanted to make sure I never bought you something that would hurt.”
Your heart melts.
No one had ever cared enough to learn.
But Seita did.
Not because your skin condition defined you…
But because taking care of you mattered to him.
🦦 Yuki
Yuki refuses to let a flare-up steal your entire day.
He knows he can’t magically make the itching disappear.
He can’t make the redness vanish overnight.
But he can make sure you don’t spend all day thinking about it.
One afternoon he finds you curled up on the couch, absentmindedly scratching your arm while staring at the TV.
Without saying anything, he disappears upstairs.
A few minutes later he comes back wearing holding is dad joke book.
“…Yuki.”
“What?”
“Tell me that’s not what I think it is”
He strikes a pose.
“Girl hush.”
You burst out laughing.
He points at you dramatically.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You laughed.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
Within the next hour he’s somehow convinced you to bake cookies, build a blanket fort, and have a competition to see who can make the best Collin Key pancake.
By bedtime…
You realize you barely thought about your skin all day.
Yuki smiles to himself.
Mission accomplished.
🐿️ Hyui
Hyui turns your skincare routine into your favorite part of the day.
Every evening after dinner, he disappears into the bathroom before calling your name.
“Babe?”
“What?”
“It’s spa time.”
You laugh.
By the time you walk in, he’s already laid everything out.
Your moisturizer.
Your creams.
A headband to keep your hair back.
Even your favorite playlist is quietly playing in the background.
“You remembered.”
“I always remember.”
He gently helps apply your moisturizer before handing you a face mask.
Twenty minutes later, the two of you are sitting on the bathroom floor taking the world’s most serious selfies.
“I look ridiculous.”
“You look adorable.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Every routine that once felt frustrating slowly becomes something you look forward to.
Because you aren’t doing it alone anymore.
🐶 So Geon
So Geon doesn’t believe in letting you sit alone with your thoughts for too long.
The second he notices you becoming quieter than usual, he knows something’s on your mind.
One afternoon, the two of you are supposed to meet some friends for lunch. You’re already dressed, shoes on, keys in hand… but you keep hesitating in front of the mirror.
He watches from the couch for a moment before walking over.
“You’ve looked in that mirror like… eight times.”
You let out a nervous laugh.
“…Has it really been that many?”
“Mhm.”
You look back at your reflection.
“My skin’s flaring up again.”
You tug the sleeves of your shirt down over your hands.
“I don’t know… maybe I should just stay home.”
He doesn’t tell you you’re overreacting.
He doesn’t tell you to “just ignore it.”
Instead, he gently reaches for your hands, stopping you from hiding them.
“You know what I see?”
You shrug.
“My favorite person.”
He smiles.
“I don’t spend my time looking for the things you think are flaws.”
“I spend it looking at you.”
You look away, trying to hide the smile growing on your face.
“You always know what to say.”
“No.”
He grins.
“I just say what I’ve always been thinking.”
“But…”
You blink.
“If anyone stares at you today…”
He dramatically cracks his knuckles.
“I’ll stare back harder.”
You burst into laughter.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“But you smiled.”
He offers you his hand.
“So…”
“Lunch?”
You nod.
“Lunch.”
𐙚⋆.˚ AIRPORT CRUSH — mm
𝜗ৎ 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ⋆.˚.ᐟ [airport crush!mackiah x reader] ...୨ᢉ𐭩୧... ss. 24 w. kms jokes! fluff 𑣲 @fish-and-cake-net ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
part one | part two
he’s so fucking annoying
