#and not only did i sleep like it was a workday but i just played animal crossing all day to get seasonal fish i didnt even catch

[ciceroandthelistener]

starting to think the summer depression is settling in bc i’ve really just had snacks today and im pissy that all the restaurants are closed even tho i very much had the chance to just get something delivered

[husbandhoshi]

title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)

smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.

--

you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.

well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.

for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.

so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.

and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.

(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)

the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.

"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.

there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.

there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.

and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.

you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.

you up? i miss you.

the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.

still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.

yeah. let me send you an uber.

that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.

besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.

--

"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"

this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.

"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.

"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."

"of course not. i...i got busy."

it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)

"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.

"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."

he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.

seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.

"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."

you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.

"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"

"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"

"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."

before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.

"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.

your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.

that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.

his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.

even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.

"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.

one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.

you're sure he's punishing you by now.

"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.

"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.

and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.

"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.

so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.

when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.

"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.

he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.

"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"

you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.

then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.

god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.

"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."

you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.

seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.

you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.

he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.

"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"

meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.

" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."

he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.

"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"

you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.

"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."

the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.

"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."

"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.

"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.

it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.

"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.

"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.

"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.

seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.

"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."

"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"

"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."

this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.

"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."

all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.

it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.

then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.

by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)

you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.

"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"

somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.

seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."

"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.

usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.

but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.

"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."

you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.

"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."

"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."

"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."

"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."

seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.

he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"

"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."

"ok. freak."

while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.

there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.

you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?

you have no time to think about this any further.

"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.

"wanna join me?"

he smiles, ear to ear.

"thought you'd never ask."

--

morning comes slowly.

you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.

last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.

the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.

"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.

"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.

you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.

what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.

your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.

complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.

"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"

"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.

now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.

"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.

"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.

"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."

damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.

seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.

"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."

"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."

it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.

"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."

"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."

"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.

"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."

"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."

"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"

"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."

you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.

his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.

before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.

"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.

"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.

"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."

"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"

"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."

"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."

it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.

his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.

"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.

your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.

seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.

he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.

"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.

it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.

when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.

yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.

"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.

"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"

it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.

"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."

"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."

"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.

"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."

against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.

so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.

"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."

instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.

when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.

in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."

you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.

"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.

"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."

it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.

choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst

A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!

Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.

He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.

That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.

He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.

It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.

He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.

When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.

She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her. 

“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.

His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."

They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”

She groaned. “It’s too early.”

She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.

“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.

“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.

“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.

“Duh. I thought you knew.”

He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.

“Who gave you command?”

His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.

“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.

He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”

“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.

“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”

His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?”

“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.

She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.

By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.

Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel. 

The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.

By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.

“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”

“What?” 

“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.

She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.” 

“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously. 

“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.

All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.

When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?  

She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.

“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”

She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind. 

“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around. 

What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all. 

“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?” 

Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.

“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”

Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.

The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.

Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.

She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.

She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.

She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”

“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”

“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.

"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”

Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.

As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”

She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed,  and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles. 

“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom. 

"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.

Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady. 

“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”

He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time. 

“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”

“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”

“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”

“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”

“Here, grab this pillow.”

She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out. 

As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”

“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.

“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.

She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.  

She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.

“You good?” 

Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray. 

“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.

"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.

“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”

Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.

Part 2

[srrynrk]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Stages of a petty dispute ! . . . ( 西村力 )

01. Style 운명 . Story 02. CONTAINS: Angst, angst, fluff, crack if you squint so exponentially hard, talks of dieting/body image issues, ni-ki‘s dumb and oblivious, fighting, pettiness, think that’s it ! 03. wc ! 1,710

The cause

Getting your hair and makeup done was boring, but Riki came along every time (wether you asked him to or not) so at least he was there to keep you company

Riki and Jake both sat on the couch showing each other stupid things on there phones and play fighting

At one point you and Riki had gotten into a conversation Mainly complaints from you about how unfair the manager was to you about dieting, Riki being Riki took this as a chance to make a joke. "Well maybe you should stop eating so much and he wouldn’t be so tough on you" He laughed, pretty loudly despite the joke not being funny, you looked at him through the mirror, almost disgustedly, just to see Jake not laughing either.

If anything he looked just as confused as you, but despite that Riki smoothly changed the subject and started joking around with Jake again. You turned back to the mirror, not looking at anything in it, simply spacing out. Riki had never made those types of jokes about you, he always talked about your body in such a sweet way, it was shocking to say the least.

2. The start

Workday was done, you were back at the dorms, and Riki was nowhere in sight.

He was probably in his room playing video games, as you could tell from the loud gun noises. Meanwhile, you sat in your room, confused and slightly heartbroken he would say something like that.

It had been hours since the incident and it’s all you’ve thought about. Riki, out of all people should know that wasn’t funny. Joke or not. Out of all people, HE would know about your image issues HE would be the one to know about your eating habits, The phone chimed, pulling you out of thought, it was Riki

"Babbbbyyyyyy can i come lay with you

i’m tired and i want to hold you" You wanted to say no fuck off but you didn’t, that would’ve been too straight forward and you wanted to be petty and drag it out. Make sure he felt realllllyyyy bad so you texted back "Not rn, i’m studying" Dry and assertive. Not at all how you text him usually, it was perfect !! "mmm okay :("

"can i come in after?? pretty plsss" You just ignored this one

It made you feel a litttlee guilty but he deserved it for being an ass

3. The rising emotions / tension

It had been 2 days since you've started ignoring Riki (kinda)

You were only answering his texts here and there and you hadn't let him sleep with you not even once.

Sure it was only 2 days but it was too much for him, he got used to sleeping with you, and he struggles to fall asleep without you now! You even locked the door just in case he tried to come in after being ignored over the phone

Riki started to get suspicious

He presumed the worst, you fell out of love, you were cheating, he did something wrong without realizing it, he didn't know what he did, but he intended to find out

But it's kinda hard when you won't stop dodging him

Night 3 of being ignored, and it got increasingly harder for him to sleep

It was 1am and he hadn't been able to properly keep his eyes shut for longer than 5 mins so he decided to get some water

When he walked out to the kitchen he saw you, wearing only his t-shirt, some shorts and a jacket

He loved seeing you in his clothes so it was like a jab to the heart

he almost got on his knees and started begging for forgiveness for whatever he did right then and there

"What are you doing up so late baby?" You looked up to see him walking towards you "Just getting some water"

"Ohh me too" It came out kind of shaky sounding, like he was trying to make small talk with a stranger

"Here have mine" Putting the glass down you started to walk off, not noticing Riki's hand reaching out for your wrist, just barely missing you.

While you went back to your room Riki sat in the kitchen kind of hurt.

He pondered on going after you but the last thing he wanted to do was annoy you or upset you more so despite the need for physical connection, he drank the water and went back to his room.

He laid in bed for another hour before giving up and playing some video games to pass the time

Riki got a solid 3 hours of sleep that night

Riki is dying and is determined to figure out what he did

4. The climax

Day 4 of being ignored, he felt like he was going to pull all his hair out

During dance practice he thought of every thing he did that could warrent this type of reaction and every way he could fix it

After thinking for a while he came to the conclusion that he must've made you jealous, probably from talking to Danielle for 0.2 seconds regarding work things

How? He had zero clue but that didn't matter.

After practice while everyone else went to lunch, he booked back home to shower and head out. He ran to your favorite cafe, and your favorite boba shop.

By the time he got back home, everyone else, including you, were back home, and he already thought about what he was going to say when he got back; sure you had gotten jealous before but it never seem to make you this upset so he had to go all out this time.

He knocked on your bedroom door, hoping you'd actually let him in this time, "who is it?"

"Riki" There was a moment of silence that made Riki worry even more but you told him to come in so he was relieved but, you were confused when he walked in with boba and bags.

You thought maybe he was finally apologizing, perhaps he finally realized what he did and wanted to own up to it.

You put down your phone and walked over to him, as he put the boba and bags on your desk. He seemed a little more nervous the closer you got but he took a deep breath in and started talking

"I know I messed up, and you don't have to forgive me but I want to make it right." Good start good start

"I don't want anyone but you baby, I mean I barely even talk to her. It was purely for work I promise." Huh

"But I completely understand your upset, and you have every"

"What" You cut him off mid-sentence, mainly just cause you were confused

"uhh what?" Riki though, seemed more confused than you

"What are you on about Nishimura"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, you're mad at me?"

"Obviously."

"And I'm trying to apologize?" He seemed unsure of himself

"Okay... for what?" He thought long and hard about his answer "Talking to Danielle the other day?..." DUMBFOUNDED

You couldn't believe that's what he genuinely thought you were upset about

"Bro I do not care about Danielle." emphasizing the "not"

Riki's eyes widened with confusion "Haha what."

"You didn't seriously think I was upset about you talking to Danielle? About work?" He gave a sheepish smile

"I'm sorry baby I really don't know what I did but I can NOT handle being ignored like this."

"The eating joke Riki. How do you not understand that, that wasn't okay." It's like the gears started turning in his head "OHHHHH"

You rolled your eyes "Oh my god baby I am so sorry."

"You laughed when other people make those jokes so I assumed it was okay..."

"No it's not okay Riki?? I only laugh because they're my bosses, I'm not allowed to be upset about it"

It took Riki a second to process and think, "I know I know, I'm realizing that now. Seriously I am so sorry baby... I clearly wasn't thinking it through and it was a horrible joke to make."

You nodded, verbally telling him to go on

"You don't have to forgive me, I know it was shitty but just know that I didn't mean it, baby."

He walked closer to you, putting his hands on your face, "You are the prettiest girl in the entire world, and I mean that. I never meant to hurt you that much baby, and I promise I won't ever make a joke like that again. And I'll think more thoroughly about the things I say, the last thing I want to do is upset you pretty."

You looked up at him, your eyes glossed over slightly.

What Riki did was wrong, but deep down a part of you knew he didn't mean it.

And he was so good at making you feel better.

You got on your tippy toes and kissed him.

It was deeper than usual, the lack of time together made it sweeter

Riki pressing into your lips and savoring every last second.

"I love you so so so so much."

"I love you too Ki. And I'm not mad at you, it just... was shocking? To say the least, I didn't expect it from you of all people, nor did I expect you to take 4 days to apologize" You smiled slightly

"But in the end, you did apologize and you took accountability so that's all that matters. Next time I'll come to you first without ignoring you for days, it was petty."

"No no it wasn't petty" He rubbed your cheek "But please don't do it again, iv got like a solid 10 hours of sleep the past few days and I almost threw myself off the HYBE building." You giggled at that, happy to hold him again

Riki went back in for another kiss which led to a long night of catching up.

Kissing, cuddling, "I love you"s, ect ect, gross couple stuff.

Riki was dumb sometimes and wasn't the best at using his words, but he always tried for you and even showed it in his own way and that's all that matters.

@taiyaakii

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, suggestive themes, use of "princess", "she/her" pronouns used, asshole ex shows up, first kiss, Sukuna is down bad and so are you A/N: okay I'm obsessed with Sukuna and reader's dynamic, and addicted to adding little Gojo bits bc that's my baby. sooooooo I also actually had smut in this chapter BUT THEN IT WAS LONG AS CRAP. look forward to it next chapter ;) also, if you have been cheated on like I'm writing in this story I'll literally fight them (ง'̀-'́)ง

index part three | part five

part four word count : 4,475

Sukuna couldn’t meet at your usual spot tonight—he had clients to squeeze in at the shop, leaving you to wander home alone. you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of disappointment, but exhaustion from the workday quickly took over. by the time you got home, you barely managed to kick off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch, letting sleep claim you almost instantly.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sound of knocking at your apartment door jolted you awake. the room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamp outside. rubbing your eyes, you stumbled toward the door, still half-asleep.

standing on your tiptoes, you peered through the peephole, and your breath caught. Sukuna was on the other side, leaning casually against the doorframe like he had every reason to be there.

how the hell did he figure out which apartment was yours? you’d only ever pointed him to your building in passing, and he’d never come up the stairs.

hurriedly, you unlocked the door and swung it open, leaning against the frame as you squinted at him. “let me guess—this is the part where you start stalking me and showing up uninvited?” you teased, though your tone held more curiosity than annoyance.

Sukuna smirked, that familiar cocky glint in his eyes. “took you long enough to open the door, princess. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“forgotten?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “more like I thought you’d finally taken the hint to leave me alone.”

his grin widened, sharp and teasing. “oh, sweetheart, you and I both know that’s not happening.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed you. “so? what are you doing here, Sukuna? don’t tell me you came all this way just to annoy me.”

“maybe I just wanted to see you,” he replied smoothly, the teasing edge softening ever so slightly.

that caught you off guard, but before you could reply, he raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “or maybe I figured out you’re terrible at locking your door and thought I’d save you from yourself.”

your lips twitched despite yourself. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here I am,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “you gonna let me in, or are we doing this in the hallway?”

against your better judgment—or maybe because of it—you stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. Sukuna sauntered past you, the smugness practically radiating off him as you shut the door behind him.

“make yourself at home, I guess,” you muttered, trying not to focus on the fact that your heart hadn’t stopped racing since the moment you’d seen him.

you turned to face him, only to realize Sukuna was standing much closer than before. his crimson eyes bore into yours, the smirk on his face sharper, more intense than you’d ever seen it. the space between you seemed to shrink, the air charged with something electric, something inevitable.

“you’re really going to let me in that easily?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his gaze flicking to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again.

you opened your mouth to respond, maybe to deflect with a teasing remark, but the words never made it out. Sukuna stepped forward, his hand rising to cup your face, tilting your chin up with a deliberate, almost possessive touch. then his lips were on yours.

the kiss was rushed, heated, and completely overwhelming. his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you against him as though he’d been waiting for this moment forever. your fingers clutched at his shirt, the fabric wrinkling under your grip as you melted into him, the rest of the world fading into nothing.

he kissed you like he meant to consume you, his movements bold and unapologetic, leaving no room for hesitation. and you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body moving on instinct, meeting him halfway in a dance that was all fire and no thought.

and it was perfect - until you woke up, still on your couch with the sun only just setting.

you felt like you were going insane. every thought began to revolve around one thing – Sukuna. that asshole had invaded your mind and planted himself firmly in the fucking limbic system of your brain. some guy checks out your ass at work? you imagine what Sukuna would do. you see someone on the street with a tattoo? you wonder if Sukuna did it.

it was getting ridiculous. every night your dreams were accompanied by his wolfish grin, and always ended with you waking up in a flustered sweat. and you hadn’t even seen his dick yet.

you didn’t want to fold that fast, but your urges were becoming stronger every time you saw him. lingering touches, suggestive teasing – last week on a date with Sukuna he leaned down to whisper to you, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear, and your knees went wobbly.

he knew how to play the game, and obviously how to win it.

⊹ . ݁˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹

it was almost inevitable that you’d find yourself standing in front of Cursed Ink unannounced that night. the bell chimed as you pushed open the shop door, but instead of Sukuna, someone else greeted you.

“ooooh, you’re back!” Gojo’s voice rang out, his trademark grin spreading across his face in an instant. “here to see Suku?”

you blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by his energy. Gojo leaned against the counter as he watched you with obvious amusement.

“uh, yeah,” you replied, stepping further inside. “is he around?”

Gojo smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “he’s in the back finishing up a design, but don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you.” he tilted his head dramatically, lowering his sunglasses to peer at you more closely. “you’re braver than I thought, showing up here willingly.”

“should I be worried?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“only if you’re planning to let him give you a tattoo,” Gojo quipped, his grin widening. “though, I gotta admit, Sukuna’s been in a weirdly good mood lately. you wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

before you could answer, another voice cut through the air, cold and clipped.

“Gojo, stop pestering her.”

you turned to see Uraume approaching from the back hallway, their pale gaze flicking between you and Gojo. “Sukuna will be out in a minute,” they said flatly, their tone dismissive as if they were already tired of Gojo’s antics.

Gojo feigned offense, pressing his hand to his chest. “pestering? me? I’m just being friendly.”

“friendly isn’t in your vocabulary,” Uraume replied coolly before turning to you. “he mentioned you might stop by. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

with that, Uraume disappeared into the back, leaving you alone with Gojo, who was still grinning like he knew something you didn’t.

“so,” Gojo drawled, leaning closer across the counter. “what’s the deal with you and ol’ Sukuna, huh? friends? fuck buddies? future victim?”

you gave him a look, unbothered by his teasing. “just here to talk to him. that’s all.”

Gojo laughed, straightening up. “sure, sure. keep telling yourself that.”

before you could retort, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the back, and Sukuna appeared, wiping his hands on a towel. his crimson eyes locked onto yours instantly, his smirk curling into place.

“took you long enough,” Sukuna said, his tone low and teasing. “couldn’t stay away, could you?”

Gojo snickered in the background, clearly enjoying the show, but one sharp glare from Sukuna had him zipping his lips—for the moment, at least.

“come on,” Sukuna said, nodding his head toward the back. “let’s talk somewhere less… annoying.”

as you followed Sukuna into the back room, you couldn’t help but notice Gojo’s exaggerated wink and whisper behind you: “have fun, lovebirds!”

Sukuna didn’t bother looking back as he muttered, “I’m going to kill him one of these days.”

Sukuna led you into the back, where the noise of the shop faded into a quieter, more personal space. Sukuna tossed the towel onto a counter and turned to face you, arms crossed, his sharp grin still in place.

“so, what brings you here?” he asked, leaning casually against the table. “couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

“hard not to, considering you’re practically blowing up my phone all day,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips. “don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me.”

Sukuna scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, I’ve been nothing but honest, princess. absolutely thrilled you’re here.”

you snorted at his reply, crossing your arms as you leaned casually against the wall. “yeah, sure. that enthusiasm is just radiating off you.”

before Sukuna could retort, the sound of laughter and bickering filtered in from the front of the shop, followed by Gojo’s unmistakable voice.

“hey, Sukuna! what’s taking so long? don’t tell me you’re getting hard back there!”

Uraume’s deadpan voice followed. “Gojo, shut up before he actually kills you this time.”

Sukuna groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “these idiots,” he muttered under his breath.

he shoved the door open with more force than necessary, stepping into the main area where Gojo was perched on the counter like it was his personal throne and Uraume stood nearby, arms crossed.

“out,” Sukuna said, his tone sharp and commanding.

Gojo tilted his head, feigning confusion. “out? but we just got here! this is a public shop, you know.”

“you don’t work here, but I do,” Sukuna growled, pointing toward the door. “which means I can throw you out whenever I feel like it. and right now, I feel like it.”

Uraume sighed but didn’t argue, already heading for the exit. “don’t bother arguing, Gojo. he’s not in the mood.”

Gojo hopped off the counter with an exaggerated pout, adjusting his sunglasses. “fine, fine. but you’re no fun, Suku.” he shot you a cheeky grin on his way out. “good luck with him! you’ll need it.”

the door shut behind them, leaving the shop in blessed silence. Sukuna turned back to you, exhaling heavily as he leaned against the counter.

“finally,” he muttered, shaking his head. “those clowns could drive a saint insane.”

“and you’re definitely no saint,” you quipped, earning a low chuckle from him.

“no,” he said, his smirk returning as his eyes met yours. “but I don’t mind being a saint for the right person.”

you rolled your eyes at his shameless flirting, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. Sukuna caught it immediately, his grin widening as he pushed off the counter and stepped closer.

“now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “where were we?”

maybe tonight, you wouldn’t fight it. had he earned it yet? probably not—but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. he had put in the effort, and for now, that was enough. at least, it was enough for you.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on you, his crimson eyes smoldering with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. he was close now—so close that the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint trace of ink. his smirk softened, just slightly, as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a calloused finger.

“you’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with curiosity. “that’s not like you.”

you swallowed, your pulse pounding in your ears. “maybe I’ve run out of insults for you.”

he chuckled, the sound deep and rich, and leaned in just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. “doubtful. but I’ll take it.”

for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with tension. then, as if the world had paused around you, Sukuna reached out and cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze locked on yours.

you didn’t.

that was all the confirmation he needed. Sukuna closed the distance, his lips crashing into yours with a passion that left you breathless. his hands were firm yet careful as they pulled you closer, erasing any space that dared to remain between you.

your fingers found their way to his shirt, clutching the fabric as you kissed him back with just as much intensity. it wasn’t gentle—it was fiery, consuming, and completely inescapable.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, Sukuna’s forehead rested against yours, his smirk back but softer this time.

“about fucking time,” he murmured, his voice rough, his thumb tracing your jawline.

you could only manage a shaky laugh, your heart racing. “don’t get used to it.”

he chuckled, low and full of mischief. “too late, princess. way too late.”

“you’re still a sleazeball, you know that?” you teased, your words carrying no real edge.

Sukuna smirked, but beneath his cool facade, he was wrecked. one kiss, and he was done for. he felt it in his core—the raw, unrelenting desire that coursed through him, igniting every nerve and overtaking his senses. he hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected you to give in so soon. but though it surprised him, he certainly wasn’t about to complain.

“guess that makes you the fool for kissing a sleazeball,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

you rolled your eyes, though the faint blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “don’t push your luck, Sukuna. one kiss doesn’t mean I’m letting my guard down.”

his grin widened, sharp and full of mischief. “oh, princess, I don’t need you to let your guard down. I’ll work my way past it just fine.”

he pulled you closer, his arms circling your waist now as if daring you to push him away. but you didn’t. instead, you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

“god, you’re impossible.”

“only for you,” he said, his tone softer this time, though it still carried that teasing edge.

the moment lingered, a quiet intensity wrapping around the two of you as the world outside the shop seemed to fade away. Sukuna wasn’t used to feeling like this—like he could lose himself in someone else. but with you? it felt too easy.

“so,” he drawled after a moment, his smirk returning, “you sticking around for a while, or are you running off before I start bragging about that kiss?”

you scoffed, shoving lightly at his chest. “as if I’d let you have that satisfaction.”

his laughter echoed through the room, low and rich, as he held you tighter for a fleeting second before letting go. “good. I wasn’t planning on letting you leave anyway.”

so you hung around his shop for another hour, the place eerily quiet with his coworkers gone and nothing but the sound of his tattoo gun as he practiced a design to fill the silence. you swung your legs back and forth while sitting on his client chair, humming in tune with the buzzing of his gun, but every so often your hums would falter when Sukuna’s hand would reach over and deliberately brush your knee to “reach something”.

would he take you right here if you wanted? on his chair, in his shop? how far could you push before he snapped – or rather, how far could he push before you begged him for it?

you were lost in your sinful thoughts, so drowned in the daydream of being bent over the client chair, that you barely registered the door’s bell until Sukuna gave your leg a nudge. you followed his line of sight and froze at what you saw.

without a word, you slid off the chair and ducked behind the half wall dividing Sukuna’s workstation from the rest—quick and quiet, like a startled cat. Sukuna blinked at you, baffled. “uh, what’re you doing?” he asked, arching a curious brow at your sudden panic.

“shhh!” you frantically gestured for silence, pressing yourself flat against the wall. his eyes darted from you to the couple who’d just entered the shop. “it’s my ex,” you whispered, voice tight, “and the bitch he cheated on me with.”

oh. oh… he glanced at you, then back at them, and a devilish grin curled at the edges of his mouth. oh, this could be interesting.

turning his attention to the unsuspecting customers, he straightened up and spoke in his smooth, confident drawl. “welcome in,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “what can I help you with today?”

you could only see the faintest glimpse of their feet from where you crouched, heart pounding. every fiber of you screamed to make a run for it, but the thought of darting past them felt worse than staying hidden. your shoulders tensed as you tried to breathe quietly, praying they wouldn’t notice you.

Sukuna, meanwhile, oozed confidence and calm, as if he were fully in control of this bizarre situation. “so,” he began, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter, “looking for something special today?”

you could hear the slight hesitation in your ex’s voice as he answered, “uh, yeah, I’m… I’m looking to get a piece done.” the muffled tone made you think he recognized Sukuna’s presence as a bit intimidating—or maybe he was just nervous about committing ink to his skin. the woman beside him, no doubt the reason you were pinned to a wall right now, added something you couldn’t quite make out. her tone was sugary, too sweet, and you wondered what Sukuna would make of her.

the only that thing Sukuna was not enjoying right now was the idea that you were making yourself small. you were shrinking into your hiding spot because of this guy, who he had already pegged to be a tool. surely you knew you were better than him, right?

Sukuna let out a low hum, taking his time as if sizing them up. “sure, we can work something out,” he said easily. “I’ve got a couple spots open tonight. first, though… mind telling me what you’re thinking of?”

a creak of footsteps on the floorboards made you tense further. were they moving toward your hiding spot? your jaw clenched as you tried to make yourself even smaller, practically molding into the wall. above you, Sukuna’s voice remained steady, casual, and you imagined the crooked grin on his face—especially now that he knew exactly who was shopping for ink in his parlor.

the silence stretched for a second, and you couldn’t help but picture Sukuna’s expression, that wicked fire flickering in his crimson eyes. he was enjoying this, savoring every second while you trembled in hidden terror.

your ex cleared his throat. “thinking something… minimalist. maybe a small phrase.” his voice sounded unsure, as if he was trying to impress the girl at his side but had no real clue what he wanted.

“minimalist,” Sukuna echoed, no judgment in his tone, only interest. “got a phrase in mind?” he paused and then, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, asked, “or maybe a name?”

the question hung in the air, loaded and dangerous. you stifled a gasp, your stomach twisting. he wouldn’t—

but Sukuna was nothing if not a master at stirring the pot. you could almost feel his amusement drifting down to you as you pressed yourself flat, praying that whatever he had planned would stay just subtle enough to keep your cover from being blown.

the new girl’s heels clicked slightly on the wooden floor. “a name?” she repeated, a note of suspicion creeping into her sugary tone. “did someone recommend this place to you?”

your ex cleared his throat, sounding flustered. “n-no, just... I’ve heard it’s good, that’s all.” there was a restless shuffle, and you imagined him rubbing the back of his neck. you recalled that nervous habit all too well. “I was thinking of something small. a word, maybe. something about fresh starts.”

you could almost see Sukuna’s grin widening. “fresh starts, huh?” he said, voice dripping with false innocence. “funny you should say that.” he paused just long enough for the tension to climb another notch. “I had a client once, real sweetheart. she’d come in here from time to time. got a little something done not too long ago after breaking it off with some jerk who didn’t know what he had.”

oh, god. you bit down on your lip, hard. did he have to lay it on so thick with a complete lie? you pressed yourself flatter, arms aching from how tense you were.

the girl was the first to speak up. “is that so?” her voice was tight, and you could picture her narrowing her eyes. “sounds like a lot of drama for a tattoo shop.”

Sukuna huffed a laugh. “you’d be surprised what people tell me when they’re under the needle.” another short pause. “y’know, you look a bit uncomfortable. why don’t we step over this way?” he took a step, leading them farther into the shop—closer to your hiding spot.

your heart lurched. each footstep echoed like a countdown to disaster. you could almost feel Sukuna’s presence looming overhead, his amusement rolling off him in waves. he was enjoying this too much.

your ex’s voice cracked slightly. “uh, well, maybe we should—”

too late. the girl’s gaze drifted, probably scanning the area. then a sudden hush fell. you knew it was over before you even looked up. her shoes came into view on the other side of the half wall. she must’ve caught a glimpse of you, maybe just your shoulder or the top of your head peeking out.

“what the—?” she said, stepping forward as if drawn by morbid curiosity.

the sound of her voice so close made your heart sink. slowly, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting hers from your crouched position. your ex let out a strangled, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sukuna, for his part, didn’t even pretend to be surprised. he just crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with that lazy smirk. “ah,” he said, voice smug. “found something you like, doll?”

you pushed yourself to your feet, cheeks burning, arms stiff from holding yourself so still. every part of you wanted to vanish on the spot, but here you were—caught red-handed.

your ex’s eyes widened, disbelief warring with embarrassment and maybe even a hint of guilt. the girl at his side set her jaw, looking between you and Sukuna as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

Sukuna’s grin practically dripped satisfaction. “well, now that the gang’s all here, how about we figure out exactly what kind of ink you need,” he drawled, his tone low and mocking. “I’m sure we can find something… fitting.”

you straightened, trying desperately to summon your usual composure despite the heat creeping up your neck. your ex opened his mouth, probably searching for some kind of explanation or retort, but Sukuna beat him to it.

before you could blink, Sukuna draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close against his side. his smirk softened into something affectionate as he addressed the pair, acting as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “sweetheart, I didn’t know you were expecting visitors,” he teased, his tone dripping with insincerity. “you should’ve told me. I’d have rolled out a red carpet.”

your ex’s face twisted, a mixture of shock and annoyance flickering across his features. the girl beside him stiffened, arms crossing defensively. “we’re not here to see—” she stumbled over her words, glaring at Sukuna’s arm around you. “we just wanted a tattoo. that’s what this place is for, right?”

“sure is,” Sukuna agreed, casually squeezing your shoulder as if to emphasize his claim. “but I’ve got to say, I only do my best work when the vibe’s right. isn’t that what you said earlier, princess?” he dipped his head slightly, nose nuzzling the top of your head for added effect, as though waiting for you to chime in.

you swallowed hard, noting the challenge in his gaze. fine. two could play at this. “uh… yeah,” you managed, forcing a small smile. “he’s very particular.” you settled your hand on his chest, partly to play along, partly to steady yourself. the hard muscle beneath his shirt didn’t help calm your pulse, and you found your fingers drawing circles against the fabric to lay it on extra thick.

your ex’s jaw tightened. “we don’t need the attitude. we came for a tattoo, not… whatever this is.” he waved a hand at you and Sukuna, clearly unsettled by the dynamic.

Sukuna responded with a slow, dismissive chuckle. “you know, I’m getting the sense that we’re just not the right fit for your ink tonight. could be my mood, could be the… circumstances.” he let the implication hang.

the girl scowled. “forget it,” she snapped, turning on her heel. “come on, let’s find another place.” she seized your ex’s arm, tugging him toward the door. your ex hesitated for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on you—was that guilt in his eyes, or just frustration? you couldn’t tell, and honestly, you didn’t care. he’d made his choices long ago.

“fine,” he bit out, finally letting himself be pulled away. his voice dropped, grumbling under his breath as they retreated toward the exit.

the bell above the door jangled softly as they slipped out into the night, leaving just you and Sukuna behind. his arm remained comfortably around your shoulders, and you were acutely aware of every point of contact. the nerves that had been wracking your body gave way to the heat you’d been feeling earlier, just from his touch.

finally, he released you, stepping back with that signature grin still firmly in place. “well, that was fun,” he said, tone light, as if you two had just won some sort of game.

you forced a laugh, hand rising to rub the back of your neck. “fun, huh?” the adrenaline still buzzed in your veins, and you weren’t quite sure what to make of what just happened.

Sukuna shrugged, eyes gleaming. “sure. just doing my civic duty. asshole exes deserve a little show, don’t they?” his smirk softened—just a fraction. “hope I didn’t overstep.”

your heart still hammered, but you managed a smirk of your own. “I’ll let it slide… this time,” you teased. “next time, maybe give me a warning before you pull something like that.”

Sukuna chuckled, heading back toward his station as though nothing unusual had happened. “where’s the fun in that, princess?” he called over his shoulder.

you rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist : @mangiswig @sorahatake @osohchoso @clp-84 @sterzin @csolya @emochosoluvr @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine

[littlefireball]

I hope you rest well!

I'd like to request a story: wooyoung in a non idol au setting. Strangers to lovers (with with him and her being inexperienced (getting intimate) but her having many ideas what she wants. Also I'd love if the met many times and made out many times before they did the deed!

Thank you!!But im not sure what 'I'd love if the met many times' 😥 is it mean they meet many times? but it doesn't matter i made it laaaa but sorry the make out scenes are not that much TT

ᴡʏ|ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇᴛ? (ᴍ)

ɢᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ɢᴀᴍᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛᴇ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴘᴏꜱɪᴛɪᴏɴꜱ :)|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx|ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ|ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ 1-2 ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.2ᴋ

Masterlist

Gaming at an Internet café is the perfect escape from daily pressures. With headphones on, the outside world fades, and the game's sounds ignite your passion. You revel in the arcade atmosphere, feeling joy wash away your tension.

"Yes! I'm back on top!" A rush of triumph hits as you see your name at the top of the leaderboard, a testament to weeks of skill-building. If only you could channel this drive into your job, but that thought barely registers.

"Alright! Time to head home." A glance at your phone reveals it's already one in the morning. You snap a picture of your score, post it with a cheeky caption, and drift off to sleep.

The next day, after a tough workday, you return to the café, eager to check your score. To your shock, a player named Black Cat has shattered your record in just twenty-four hours. "What?" you gasp, disbelief washing over you.

No, first place is yours.

Time slips away as you replay the game, but despite your efforts, you can't surpass Black Cat. Exhaustion sets in, but quitting isn't an option.

You analyze Black Cat's gameplay, piecing together clues like a complex puzzle, inching closer to the answer.

"I did it!" You slumped in your seat with a sigh of relief. Finally! You were at the top again. It took more time than you imagine and now it was already 2:00 a.m.. "Fuck!" Having no time to take a rest, you quickly gathered your belongings and rushed back home. You might not have realized it, but the instant you walked away, your ranking dropped again.

This occurs nearly every day, and it's worth mentioning that this pattern has persisted for a week now. Your triumphs seem to fade away all too quickly.

For you, it was a battle; but for Wooyoung, it was a funny game.

The days of campus life have come to an end, and graduation looms just a few months ahead. Wooyoung's friends were either busy with part-time jobs or off on romantic outings. He found himself feeling quite dull. Although he kept active with daily sports and bike rides, a spark of excitement eluded him.

That was, until he stumbled upon your post. Initially, he figured that a visit to an Internet café, after such a long hiatus, would be a fun way to pass the time. Little did he know that the thrill of vying for first place against you would ignite a newfound passion.

Wooyoung liked watching you struggle with the ranking. It sounded like a pervert though.

Wooyoung arrived at the internet cafe early, excited to spend the day with you. Spotting you in your favorite corner, he decided to sit beside you instead of across. As you both logged into the game, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Each time he won, you playfully cursed, while he seemed to predict your every move.

In a moment of distraction, you noticed him trying to suppress laughter at your setbacks, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Curious, you wondered if he was that black cat. When you pretended to head to the restroom, he immediately stopped his antics, engrossed in his phone.

Returning to your chair, you feigned disappointment and said you needed another try. Realizing you were back, Wooyoung set his phone aside and dove back into the game. Yet, you remained still, simply observing him as he played. When he glanced over at your screen, he noticed you hadn't even begun.

He feigned a cough, a clumsy attempt to divert attention while concentrating on his game. Intentionally scoring low, he aimed to project an image of a novice, yet his username betrayed him─Black Cat.

"Um… May I help you?" he stuttered, realizing you were peering at his screen.

"Oh, nothing much. I'm just curious about why you keep staring at my screen."

"Uh… um…" He fumbled for words.

"So, you're watching me play to spot my mistakes?" Your words made him glance away, clearly flustered.

"I don't mind at all." You chuckled lightly. "I just think it's impressive how you rack up such high scores."

"Really? Thanks!" A smile broke across Wooyoung's face, thrilled to finally be chatting with you. "Want to play a round together?"

"Sure! But let's mix it up a bit; playing just one game gets dull."

"Of course! How about Mario Kart?" Wooyoung suggested eagerly.

"Don't regret it. I'm good at this game." You said provocatively.

"That should be what I say."

Both of you found unprecedented happiness in this game. Not fighting for high scores anymore, but the joy of playing together. You talked about everything and nothing, from your favorite books to the latest movies, laughter filling the air between you. It felt natural, comfortable, and more importantly, genuine. As the night wore on, you realized that you could spend hours like this, just talking and getting to know each other better.

"Will you come tomorrow?" Wooyoung asked.

"Maybe not." You gathered your belongings and said. "I gotta take a rest. I'm tired."

"Then how can I find you?" Wooyoung burst out, he wanted to meet you every day. It has become his habit.

"Find me?" You smirked. "Why would you find me?"

"Um…ahh…I want to play a game with you." Wooyoung confessed.

Smiled, you nodded. "Then~what if we have a bet?" You asked, leaning back at the chair. "If I lose, I will give you my number. If you lose─""Deal."

"What? Don't you need to consider it?"

"No. What game do you want to play?" Wooyoung was already logged in the game, searching for one he would definitely win.

"Okay. Okay. You choose." You smile helplessly.

Naturally, you end up losing. Who advised him to pick a game you've never tried? But it's all good. You initially intended to share your number with him; you were just looking for some fun, so you threw out a bet instead.

"Hey, Y/N. Wanna bet?" He asked suddenly on the way to take you home. "Whoever reaches that tree first wins. The losing one must fulfill the other's wish." Before you could react to his words, he suddenly ran away with his full speed, leaving you far behind.

"You asshole!!" Of course, you lose again. You were not good at sports, especially running. "How could you run first?It's not fair!" You smacked his chest playfully, and he laughed, grabbing your hands tightly.

"So you want to run again?"

"No way!"

"And you lose~"

"Maybe you should change your name to fox." You pouted and he pulled you into his embrace, making you blush.

"You have to fulfill my wish, Y/N."

"Wh…What wish?"

"Can you go on a date with me?"

"But I won't go on a date with a jobless man."

"Fine. I will find a job." He compromised. "So will you go on a date with me?"

"To see if you work hard."

"That's not fair. I've already fulfilled one of your wishes!" Wooyoung pouted like a child.

"Is it?" You couldn't help but grin at his adorable charm, leaning in impulsively to press a kiss on his cheek. Perhaps it was a bit wild; after all, how could you kiss someone you had just met on your very first day? Yet, in that instant, all you wanted was to embrace that fleeting urge.

"Go get a job and I'll go on a date with you. That's it." You left him frozen in his place, going back to your house.

"You promise?" Wooyoung shouted.

"Promise."

—---

Initially, your plan was simple: enjoy dinner and each other's company. However, things took an unexpected turn as your relationship evolved into a whirlwind of gambling challenges. It felt like you had unwittingly walked into his trap, with every bet he suggested tilted in his favor, forcing you to comply with his whims.

But you never mind.

"Kiss me." Wooyoung leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper, and you instinctively moved to meet him with a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he drew you into his warm embrace, and in that moment, the world around you faded away. The kiss was carefree, filled with sweetness and tenderness, a balm for his soul. Almost every day during lunch, he would find you and propose a playful 'bet.'

"Ten seconds have passed," you teased, breaking the kiss with a soft pop. "That's our deal."

"What if I want it to last longer?" He pressed his chest against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

"Shall we make another bet?" You tilted your head.

"Can we save that for later? I always win, so it doesn't really matter when I claim my prize, right?"

"You…"

He silenced you with a fervent kiss, a soft moan escaping as he deepened the connection, his tongue dancing with yours in a passionate rhythm.

"How can you be so intense?" you gasped, playfully patting his chest.

"I can be even more intense if that's what you want."

"No." You halted his advance by placing your hand over his mouth. "Time's up."

"You'll want more, I promise." With a quick peck on your forehead, he dashed away, leaving you breathless. "I gotta work. Bye bye~"

It's a fact. You crave something deeper than just a kiss. Yet, each time you two get lost in the moment, he pulls back. Why is that? Is it because of the nature of your relationship? You and he may not officially be a couple, but you've shared nearly all the experiences that couples do, except for that final step.

Once again, you found yourselves lost in each other on the sofa, but this time, there were no conditions or wagers. You had invited him over, yearning for his company. His left arm encircled your waist, drawing you closer, while his right hand gently cupped your face, tilting it for a kiss. As he pressed his lips against yours, his tongue slipped in, playfully teasing yours and producing a soft, intimate sound. The suddenness of his actions caught you off guard, but you quickly became entranced by the fervent embrace.

His hands roamed over your back, glided down to your thighs, and ventured to explore your most sensitive spots. And you could feel something hard sinking between your thighs;he was turned on. But, he suddenly stopped the kisses, just as usual.

"I gotta go to the toilet." Not waiting for your response, he rushed to the washroom. He twisted the faucet handle, letting the icy water cascade over his face, a desperate attempt to shake off the grip of longing. Yet, despite his efforts, his body betrayed him.

Unable to resist any longer, he freed himself from his trousers, starting to jerk off. His thoughts swirl with tantalizing fantasies, igniting a fire within him. He gasps for air as sweat beads on his brow, cascading down like tiny jewels. The vision of being enveloped by your warmth consumes him, driving him to madness. Eventually, the intensity of his cravings subsides, if only for a moment.

He gazes at the crumpled tissues in the trash, sighs heavily, and splashes water on his face before leaving the restroom. But the sight of you leaning against the wall outside shatters his composure. Your form-fitting dress highlights your curves, and your slender legs captivate him.

"Have you finished yet? I thought you…" you tease as you draw closer. Your eyes playfully wander down to his anxious gaze. With one hand resting on his chest and the other propped against the wall, your faces inch closer, breaths mingling in the air. You whisper softly, "Are you scared to have me, completely?" Your playful, innocent eyes sparkle with mischief, as your bodies pressed together, feeling the warmth of each other's breath.

"Just don't regret what you have said." "Never." He suddenly carried you in his arms, making his way to your bedroom.

With his right hand cradling your head, he kissed every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you despite the fabric between you. His hands explored your curves, lingering on your chest, leaving a tender mark. Your soft sighs fueled his desire as he pressed your bodies together, his lower half brushing against you. You surrendered as he unzipped your dress, showering your exposed breasts with kisses.

"I've wanted you for so long." He murmured while dropping kisses on your collarbone.

"Then why don't you claim me as yours?"

"I'm afraid that you will reject me." He locked his eyes with yours, full of affection. "After all, I'm younger than you."

"What's the point? I would never mind our age." You wrapped your arms around his neck. "If I mind, I won't let you kiss me, let alone fuck me."

Smiling, he claimed you into a hungry kiss. After removing your garments and putting on a condom, he settled between your thighs. The passionate make-out session was interrupted by your breathy moans as he eased into you. A hint of discomfort made you frown. "It's okay, just relax," Wooyoung murmured, cupping your face and kissing you while caressing your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Tapping his shoulder as a signal to let him move, he first thrusted in and out at a slow pace but your wall kept pulling and sucking him in, driving him insane. Your moan grew louder as you arched your back against his chest, he quickly moved in and out while slapping your ass with his ball.

"Young…Youngie…Can you fuck me in doggy style? I want you deep inside me." You begged, your voice soft. He made a pause and pecked at your forehead before flipping you over suddenly, causing your head to land on the pillow.

He forcefully lifted your pelvis, pressing your buttocks against his lower body. Without waiting for your response, he thrust hard into you once again. Unlike the rapid thrusting before, it was now like a raging flood. Each insertion went as deep as possible, fiercely colliding with your soft flesh.

"Fuck!!" Wooyoung seized your hair, bumped into you and hitted your sweet spot dead on. The combination of pain and pleasure left you gasping for air, your excitement manifesting in frantic cries. He showed no signs of slowing down, thrusting with relentless speed and power, as if he were exerting every ounce of his strength.

Your moans had transformed into an intoxicating melody, more enchanting than ever before, fueling his urge to take complete control over you. The delicate dance of pain and pleasure brought tears cascading down your face. Each moan now carried a hint of sobbing, a poignant blend of ecstasy and despair. In this moment, coherent thoughts eluded you, leaving you with only broken whispers and fragmented sounds.

"Ah… young… please…slow…"

"What did you say? I can't hear you." He smirked mischievously, spanking you several times to leave red marks on your ass.

"Call me daddy and I'll let you go." Suddenly, he collided with your deepest spot, hitting it over and over again. Your limbs went weak as the numbness took over, energy was going out of your body.

"woo… young… please." "Huh? I don't want to hear that." "Hmm… daddy… Stop…" Delighted by the response, he eased his grip, gradually descending. His damp chest pressed against your back as he planted soft kisses, trailing them up to your neck, leaving a warm path of affection in his wake.

He gently brushed your tears away, his fingers weaving through your hair with care. The rhythm continued unabated as he lifted you, allowing you to settle with your back against him. His damp chest pressed against your spine, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. Turning your head, you captured his lips in a kiss, one hand tenderly cradling the back of his neck.

He met your kiss with enthusiasm, his fingers gliding gently along the inner curve of your thighs, while his other hand traveled upward, exploring every inch of your body before pausing to knead your chest.

"Can you be rough with me again?" You asked, earning a smile from him.

"Are you okay with that?" He kissed you one more time before parting from your lips.

"Yes, please."

He gently lowered you onto the bed once more, his body still pressed against your back. Supporting himself with his arms, he swiftly reentered you, his movements quick and fervent. Your body quivered with each powerful thrust, the sensation both soft and overwhelming.

He let out deep, passionate moans, reveling in the pleasure coursing through him. In turn, you responded with your own sounds of delight, completely enveloped in the blissful moment. Time seemed to slip away as you both surrendered to the intoxicating feelings, lost in a world of comfort and ecstasy.

Exhaustion began to set in as he slowed down his pace, wrapping his right arm around your waist before settling onto the bed beside you. Now he was spooning you, nudged your right leg forward, allowing his cock to delve even deeper. With a slow, gentle thrust, he peppered your neck with soft kisses, leaving you blissfully unaware of how it had become adorned with love bites.

"Youngie, I want to try something…" You trailed off, feeling shy.

"Hm?What's that?" Wooyoung sneaked his hand to your breast, teasing your nipple while leaving a trail of kisses on your neck.

"Do you know what missionary is?"

"You really have so many ideas." He let out a chuckle and flipped you over once more before you could say anything. He folded you up and supported himself with both of his hands settled on your thighs, moving in and out at a steady pace.

"A little harder… Go deeper…" you said coyly.

"Aren't you afraid of pain?" He asked.

"No…Please daddy"

Gripping your arms, he pressed his lips against yours, fiery and red, before plunging into you with the ferocity of a wild beast. This time, the intensity was unlike anything you had experienced before. The blend of pain and ecstasy escaped your lips in loud moans, mingling with the breathless utterance of his name. The bed groaned under the force of your movements, but neither of you noticed, lost in the throes of your fervent connection.

"Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!!"

Finally, you both reached climax and Wooyoung came. After the moment passed, he tenderly pressed his lips to your forehead and gave your lips a light kiss. He pulled away and settled down next to you. You nestled against his shoulder, a content smile gracing your face.

"You really gave it your all…" You weakly chuckled. Wooyoung draped his arm around you, resting his head against yours as he murmured, "Well, who was it that tempted me?" You let out a soft laugh.

"Who could possibly say no?" You exchanged warm smiles before closing your eyes, the weight of exhaustion enveloping you both.

"Can you be my girlfriend?" Wooyoung whispered in your ears. "Is it a bet or a promise?" "A promise." Smiling, he drew you into a deep kiss with all of his love.

[hookedonhuge]

Ass-Man

If someone were to describe you there are only two words that would do you justice: ass and man. It was as simple as that. You’re a man and you love ass, and above all else, you love a man with a nice ass.

You were never shy about your adoration for men with nice round, smack-able backsides. However, there was one person that you kept this well-known secret from. It was your housemate. Your thick, caked-up housemate.

Despite how shameless your ass obsession was, you thought it was too much for your housemate to know just how obsessed you were with his assets. You might be an ‘Ass Man’ but you still had the decency to let your housemate live his day-to-day life without feeling constantly objectified.

In your head though, you did objectify him. It was hard to remember that there was a human behind those fat yet firm cheeks. You found it difficult to make eye contact with him, let alone get your gaze above waist height!

You’d often think to yourself: “Geez I know I need to stop staring at his ass and just treat him like he’s a regular guy but sometimes it’s so damn hard and he wears those silky shorts that accentuates his butt oh so well and every time I’m behind him he’s always bending over for some reason like he is trying to tease me but he’s so completely unaware at the same time and talks to me like a friend and not like I’m some ass loving weirdo.”

Besides the occasional cheeky glance at his behind, you never once succumbed and touched his magnificent booty, let alone made any comments about his rear-end (and your adoration for it) around him. But some nights it was just that little bit harder to contain yourself around him. Some nights you would take that extra step and go looking into places that you weren’t meant to see. That’s what you had done tonight. You went looking for trouble.

It had been a hot day. Your housemate got home from work and headed straight for his room. He took off his work clothes, crashed on his bed and pulled down his underwear to let his sweaty butt breathe. You had been eagerly waiting all day for him and his butt to come home, and you couldn’t handle not being able to take a quick glance. That’s how you ended up looking at his crack through the crack of his door, that he irresponsibly didn’t fully close.

Getting to see his naked butt, free from the constraints of fabric, was everything you dreamed about and more. The temptation to savour this moment with a photo was there, but too risky. Nevermind the fact that you couldn’t take your eyes away from it if you tried.

Watching him (or really his ass) through just a tiny slither between the door and the door frame soon became frustrating. You needed to see it in all its raw and unadulterated glory. Confident that he had passed out on his bed after his long workday, you started to slowly push the door more and more ajar.

It was all going well until the door betrayed you and decided to let out a mighty loud creak. You didn’t want to make the situation any worse by making sudden movements, but in hindsight (pardon the pun) perhaps you should have. Your housemate was quick to raise his upper body and turn his head around just enough to catch you taking a peek at him.

You thought maybe playing it cool was the way to go. You opened the door completely and tried to put on the performance of a lifetime.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realise you were uh… sleeping and I just wanted to uh… ask…” Your face was a deep red and you were getting more flustered by the second. “Damn, is it me or is it a bit… hot in here?” You were sweating profusely. “It’s so hot… I can barely… think…” Your body felt heavy, your mind fuzzy, your vision blurry, and soon your whole world was coming crashing down… 

When you woke up you had a numb feeling throughout your body and you couldn’t move from the neck down. You wanted to yell out but you couldn’t as your lips had puckered and felt like they had been glued in that position. In fact, the more you tried to talk, the tighter your puckered lips felt. Your eyes darted around the room in a frenzy but you were locked into looking at a blank ceiling.

You felt a warm sensation in the sides of your mouth and your cheeks started to swell. Not like it was inflating with air, no, it was a different feeling. It was more like they were filling up with mass. You were sure you looked like a chipmunk with its mouth completely filled with acorns. 

The swelling did not stop there. Your cheeks kept fattening up, extending out a great distance from the side and front of your face. They were two round, fleshy orbs that were quickly taking up most of your peripheral vision and each of your expanding cheeks were now larger than your head. Your world was quickly descending into darkness as your cheeks were swallowing up your face. They grew to the point that the inner sides of each cheek touched in front of your puckered lips. This soon became rubbing as each cheek was fighting each other for limited space as they continued to balloon outwards.

Your vision was long gone and what was left of your face under your colossal cheeks felt like it had all mashed together into your tightly bound lips. The growth of your cheeks seemed to stop as a thin bit of fabric slid its way between your cheeks and pressed firmly against your puckered mouth. If you had to guess, each cheek was likely two to three times the size of your pre-swelled face. Another softer and more cushiony material hugged the bottom half of your severely bloated cheeks.

It was like your fat cheeks had buried you alive. You couldn’t scream for help, in fact you couldn’t move at all. You couldn’t even see or hear a thing. However, after what felt like a short eternity, a lifting of the thin material on your lips and the spreading of both your cheeks by a powerful force allowed for blinding light to finally flood back into your eyes. Once your vision had adjusted to the light, you finally saw what had become of you.

You were staring at your housemate’s gigantic ass (and it truly was gigantic, it had doubled in size since you last saw it) and his butthole was staring right into your soul. That’s when you realised you were looking into a mirror. That butthole was actually you staring at yourself. You had become what you desired most: your housemate’s big, fat bubble butt.

“You’ve added so much size to my ass,” your housemate groaned in pleasure. “My fit, tight bubble butt has exploded into a fat, jiggly dump truck, and it’s all your fault!” He put on a fake whiny tone as he said this, but in reality he was enjoying every second of teasing you.

You tried to respond but your puckered butthole-lips wouldn’t budge. “Oh, are you trying to say something?” He parted your fat cheeks even more with his powerful hands, allowing your lips to open slightly. A small toot of air escaped out of your mouth before your lips closed again. It served as a sobering reminder that being your housemate’s butt meant dealing with his digestive system too.

“Do you feel blessed or cursed by this little predicament you’ve found yourself in?” Your housemate asked with an air of sincerity. “Knowing how much you love my ass I bet you’d be grinning ear to ear, if you could!” He let out a thunderous laugh that caused your cheeks to jiggle slightly. “I’d like to know if you still feel the same way after a day of being my ass, let alone a lifetime.” It dawned on you that this wasn’t some crazy dream.

“By the way…” Your housemate removed his hands from his butt, causing his thong to snap back into your lips like a whip and your cheeks to accelerate towards each other. They slammed into each other with a loud, satisfying clap which sent shockwaves of jiggles rippling through them. “Don’t get used to staring at my ass, that’s the privilege that your old self had. Your new self is going to be experiencing pitch-black darkness ninety-nine percent of the time.” Your housemate chuckled as he gave his butt an open-palmed smack. It hurt, but you were never going to get sick of the way your jelly-like cheeks wobbled in response to the impact.

“It’s time to go to work.” Your housemate sighed with disappointment. “Well, today will test whether staring at my ass for all that time was worth it or not.” If you were capable of gulping you would have. You had no clue if you were in hell or heaven. One thing was for certain, your housemate turned owner was certainly not going to make your new life easy.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Your housemate said ominously. “I never really minded you staring. Maybe if you were more forthcoming about being infatuated with my behind, you could have avoided this fate. Anyway, I’ll never know if you’re happy about this or not, but I sure know I am! And since you are a part of me, shouldn’t my happiness be enough?”

You didn’t know what to make of your housemate’s sentiment, but he had a point. You can’t change what has now happened so you might as well try to make the most of it. You were once a self-proclaimed ‘Ass Man’ and now you’ve evolved into an ‘Ass-Man’. You’ve alway loved ass so logically you should love yourself more in your new state. It was easy to think that way, but ass your housemate but on his work pants, your world got even darker and a hell of a lot stuffier. If you still had lungs, then these cramped and claustrophobic conditions would have quickly felled you. 

But ‘Ass-Man’ doesn’t need oxygen and he will soldier on, for better or worse… 

[angelbaby-fics]

Hi love, how are you! I haven’t been on tumblr much lately but I still love you and your work!! I’ve been dealing with some tough stuff with my health and have been little a lot more lately. Would you write Cg!Ransom as just turning into a melted fit of mush for the reader?Just like absolutely spoiling them and doing whatever they want when they don’t feel good?

Love,

🐣

Daddy's Day Off

Word Count: 750

A/N: Aww hello angel! I'm glad to hear from you again & I hope you're always doing alright 💕 eeep I love Ransom so much, especially in the cold months I just want to cling to him hehehe 💕

It was a busy day full of stressful meetings and Ransom was not at all pleased about it. As much as he loved being extravagantly rich, the people he had to deal with on a daily basis almost made it not worth it. Almost. One thought of you, your bright eyes and contagious smile, and Ransom was reminded that he’d go through hell just to make that happen. He checked the time on his phone, just an excuse to look at the background image really. It was a picture of you and him, a selfie he had taken while you were curled up with him on the couch - he smiled at the camera, but your loving gaze was locked on him. Every time he saw this picture it reminded him what he did it all for.

He couldn’t do it today though, he just couldn’t. You’d had a nightmare earlier, screaming yourself out of slumber in the wee hours of the morning. The rest of the night was spent with you curled up against his chest and him hardly sleeping, dutifully keeping watch on you to make sure you stayed at peace. It broke his heart to close you out of his home office that morning, your rejected face echoing through his head as he tried to focus on today’s planner entries. All he wanted was to be finished with this stupid workday and to spend the rest of it with you. Your love was the only thing that could relieve his stress after a long day of dealing with a bunch of a-holes. Yes, he needed his baby just as much as you needed him. 

To hell with it. Ransom sent a short email to his assistant to cancel all his meetings as he needed to take a personal day. With that, he shut his laptop and tossed his work phone into his desk drawer, nearly slamming it shut. He was so eager to get away from all this and just relax with you. When he opened his office door, he almost expected you to still be there looking up at him with tearful eyes, but like the brave and independent baby he’d raised you to be, you had already begun trying to distract yourself until Ransom was finished with work. 

You knew Ransom didn’t like distractions when he was in work-mode, so although you’d rather spend the day curled up with him just as you’d spent last night, you took it upon yourself to keep occupied. That’s how Ransom found you on the floor of the living room, the massive flatscreen tv playing a marathon of Bluey episodes above you. Every color of crayon was scattered all around you, a pile of already finished drawings stacked upon the coffee table. At the sound of Ransom’s heavy footsteps, your head shot up from your picture of a cat in a garden.

“Daddy, you finished already?” You asked hopefully.

“Daddy got a surprise day off, baby!” He replied, scooping you up into his arms. 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, looking up at him with more love in your eyes than Ransom thought he deserved in his whole lifetime. 

“Anything you want, babydoll. I’m all yours.” Ransom carried you to the giant sofa, keeping you pressed against his firm chest as he swaddled the two of you together in a big plush throw blanket. 

He handed you the remote, happy to sit through any cartoon or cheesy musical if it meant making you happy. When he heard your tummy rumble after a while, Ransom grabbed the house phone and ordered your favorite pizza, without even needing to ask if you wanted it. He knew you better than he even knew himself. He helped you eat your pizza as you watched tv, something you rarely got to do at the same time. When you finished eating, he carried you to the kitchen to get you dessert and a bottle, not wanting to put you down for even a second.

Hours later, the credits on your second movie of the day were crawling across the screen, and Ransom was sure you were fast asleep, when suddenly he heard your tiny voice muffled through the blankets and his comfy thick sweater.

“Dada?” You asked, even smaller than you’d been this morning.

“What’s up, babydoll?” He whispered down to you.

“You gotta get a day off more often.” You mumbled, drifting into sleep.

“I will, baby. I will.”

[thebadgerclan]

Learn

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader x Wylan Van Eck

Summary: Wylan wants to learn how to pleasure you, and Jesper is more than happy to teach him...

Smut!

It was something that Wylan had fantasized about countless times, an image he’d gotten himself off to far more often than he’d ever admit aloud: touching you, making love to you, making you come.  But his deepest fantasy had yet to play out for one crucial reason: Wylan had absolutely no idea how to pleasure a woman.  You and Jesper were the first relationship he’d ever been in, the first love he’d ever felt.  The three of you had gotten into some heated make-outs, but it had never progressed any further.

But Wylan wanted, oh how he wanted.  He wanted to run his hands over your body, he wanted to bury his face between your thighs, he wanted to thrust into you while Jesper called him his good boy.  The mere notion of doing so made Wylan achingly hard that he’d had to duck into the restroom and take care of himself so he could finish out the workday.  It had been nearly impossible to keep his cool when he returned home, and when the three of you had drifted up to the bedroom for the evening, Wylan made his move.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply, having to go up on his tiptoes just slightly to reach you.  You happily pulled your lover into you as you kissed him, never one to shy away from his affections.  Jesper came up behind Wylan and snaked his arms around his waist, kissing the mercher’s neck.  “Y/N,” Wylan sighed, reluctantly breaking the kiss.  “Y/N, I want… I want…”  “What do you want, baby?”  “I want to make you feel good.”

A white-hot bolt of arousal shot through you, and you felt your face flush.  “Really, baby?  You’re ready?”  You’d have taken Wylan to bed the second you met, but both you and Jesper hadn’t wanted to push him into anything he wasn’t completely ready for.  But he was ready now.  “I am, but…”  “But what, sweetheart?” Jesper asked, still pressing open mouthed kisses to Wylan’s neck.  “I don’t know what to do.”

The Zemini smirked, turning Wylan around so he was facing him.  “That’s alright, baby boy,” he said, tenderly cupping his cheek.  “I happen to be an excellent teacher.  And Y/N’ll tell you what she likes.”  Wylan nodded, and when he turned around, it was to find you seated on the bed, smiling at him.  “I’m yours, baby,” you said, and your lover surged towards you, kissing you hard as he lifted the hem of your sleep shirt, pulling his lips from yours only to remove it.

You didn’t have a bra on, and Wylan sucked in a breath.  “Ghezen, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, reaching for the waistband of your pants–a pair of Jesper’s sweats–next.  Wylan hurried to strip himself, and once he was naked, he was kissing you again.  Already you were breathless, dripping between your legs, and Jesper laid a hand on your shoulder.  “Are you ready, my darlings?” he asked, and Wylan eagerly nodded.

“Good.  Y/N, I want you to lie back, love.”  You did as you were bade, reclining against the pillows, one of your lovers on either side of you.  “Now baby, our Y/N is a sensitive little thing,” Jesper said, easing your legs apart.  “So if you’re doing something she likes, you’ll know it.”  “H-how will I know?”  Wylan sounded so unsure, so shy, and your heart squeezed.  “Like this.  Y/N, may I?”

“Please,” was your breathless response, and your lover smiled, trailing a hand from your knee up your thigh.  You spread your legs wider, hoping to entice your lover, and he smiled.  “See how wet she is for us?  For you, Wy?”  “Me?”  You reached for Wylan’s hand, squeezing it softly.  “Yes, baby.”  A flush creeped its way up the mercher’s neck, and Jesper continued.  “She’ll never admit it, but Y/N likes being teased.  Start out by rubbing her clit, not too hard, that might hurt, but not too light either.”

He demonstrated, running two fingers through your slit to gather your wetness.  When Jesper pressed against your clit, rubbing slow, gentle circles, you let your head fall back, a breathy moan leaving your mouth.  You heard Wylan’s breath catch, and you opened your eyes to find him watching with rapt attention, his cock hard and straining.  “Keep doing this for a little while,” Jesper said, rubbing your clit faster.  “You can speed up a little bit, but not too much, and right when it seems like she might come…”

“Jes!” you cried, and that was his cue.  Your lover pulled his hand back, causing you to whine.  “Why did you stop?” Wylan asked, and Jesper laughed.  “Because hearing her pretty little moans is half the fun.”  He then instructed Wylan how to finger you, how to find your g-spot, and what your tells were.  “She’ll start squirming when she’s close,” he said.  “Breathing a bit harder, her moans will get a little higher.  So if you want to edge her, stop what you’re doing then.”

After several demonstrations, Jesper pressed a kiss to your forehead and sat back.  “You’re not going to make her come?” Wylan asked, and Jesper shook his head.  “No, baby, that’s all you tonight.  But maybe give her a minute or so to calm down so she doesn’t come too quickly.”  Wylan nodded, moving up the bed to kiss you.  Lust coursed through your veins, and you pulled your lover closer, deepening the kiss.

“Wylan, touch me,” you breathed.  “Please baby, touch me.”  Wylan nodded, sitting back on his knees, looking at you with hungry eyes.  Slowly, he brought a hand to your cunt, swiping two fingers through your wetness, just as Jesper had.  When Wylan rubbed a slow circle on your clit, you bucked your hips and let out a strangled moan.  “That’s good, baby,” Jesper praised.  “Touch her just like that.”

Your lover was an apt student, copying Jesper’s motions almost exactly.  But Wylan’s touch was different; his hands slenderer, his touch gentler, his motions still somewhat hesitant.  But as you moaned his name, told him how good it felt, his confidence grew.  Just as Jesper had said, your moans went up in pitch and you began panting, and Wylan retracted his hand, earning a dejected whine from you.  

“Wylan,” you sighed, head lolling to the side.  “Wylan, fuck, please don’t stop.”  Where Jesper might have teased you, taunted you, Wylan pressed two fingers into your cunt, thrustung gently.  Your back arched and you keened, a hand reaching for his wrist.  “Fuck, Wy, oh shit!”  Wylan had crooked his fingers, finding your g-spot and pressing into it almost effortlessly.  “That’s it, Wy,” Jesper cooed, coming to kneel behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist and stroking his cock.  “Keep touching here like that, good boy.”

Wylan’s moans joined yours, making the most beautiful chorus Jesper had ever heard.  For several minutes yours and Wylan’s cries of pleasure, your praises filled the room, and soon, you felt your orgasm building.  “Wylan,” you moaned, gently rolling your hips against his hand.  “Wylan, please, right there, baby.  Please, I’m so close.  Don’t stop, please, right there.”  Wylan did as you asked, keeping the rhythm and pressure of his fingers consistent, and a moment later, you shattered.

With a cry of his name, you came, back bowing, eyes rolling back in your head.  Wylan felt a flush of pride, watching you fall apart on his hand; knowing you were feeling such pleasure and knowing it was him that had caused it.  And when you let out a whimper, a soft, desperate plea of, “Wylan,” and when Jesper twisted his wrist just so, the mercher released, his head tipping back to rest on Jesper’s shoulder.

Jesper felt his cock throb in his sleep pants at the sight of his lovers moaning and writhing for each other.  He eased Wylan to lie at your side before retreating to the bathroom, returning a moment later with warm washcloths to clean the two of you up.  In the moment or so he’d been gone, you and Wylan had gravitated towards each other and were now tangled in each other’s embraces, foreheads touching, eyes shut.

“Alright, my loves,” he said.  “Let me clean you up, then we can snuggle.”  It was one of Jesper’s favorite things, putting you back together after thoroughly ravishing you, and now he got to offer that loving ritual to Wylan too.  Both of you whimpered and protested, but Jesper managed to get the two of you clean, dressed, and tucked beneath the covers.  Wylan had snuggled into your chest again, and Jesper curled around him from behind.

“Did I do good?” he asked, and you wondered how your heart could swell and break at the same time.  Your sweet boy craved praise so much, craved validation, and lucky for him, you were more than happy to dole it out.  “So good, baby,” you said, kissing his forehead.  “You did so good, Wy.”  “Yes, you did, sweetheart,” Jesper echoed, kissing his shoulder.  “Our good boy.”

Wylan preened under your attention, letting out a contented hum.  “I love you, Wylan,” you said, gently tugging him closer.  “I love you too,” he mumbled, his post-orgasmic haze combined with yours and Jesper’s arms around him acting like a sedative.  He soon drifted off, and Jesper reached for and took your hand.  “And I love you, my sweet girl.”  You smiled, squeezing his hand.  “Love you too, Jes,” you replied, letting your eyes close and sleep claim you as well.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Love your writing! Could you do Carmy getting drunk for the first time in forever and it just makes him super sweet and clingy

Tipsy

I wouldn't say that it's something big. It's not an aftermath of clubbing or going out to a bar, or pub. All of these places are way too crowded and would only increase Carmen's anxiety. They're not for him and you're equally not that big of a fan of going out either.

I kind of picture it being something along the lines of you two staying even after family is over. Like letting everyone get home earlier because you've not rushing anywhere. So while cleaning the dishes, you decide to open up another bottle of wine. And Carmen has music playing from his phone. Something sweet, and sweet just some piano music. I don't know why but for some reason my brain goes to some whimsical playlist on Spotify - don't ask me why. And you just hum alongside the melody while drying the dishes and you both have these lazy smiles painting both of your faces.

And it's just so good to have this time finally for yourself. Like the restaurant had kicked off, everything is slowly starting to fall into place. You can start to somewhat manage your workdays and your free time. It just genuinely starts to feel normal. Yet the moments when you can be together alone, and just soaking in the presence of each other are still rather rare. Hence this feeling so special even while doing such a mundane task.

And you can tell that Carmen is getting tipsy but also you can't blame him. Alcohol always hits when you are tired and man is running on like three hours of sleep. Let's face it. Add on top of anxiety so it's just an insane mix. But you don't mind it. You're kind of happy that he's getting tipsy and letting go because his shoulders are slumped, but in the lazy kind away, he has somewhat of a light smirk on his face. His hair messy, shirt undone, and he's just absolutely vibing. Something that you haven't seen him do in forever.

End it feels so fragile almost so you don't even comment on and you don't tell him anything, you just kind of watch him. Until he catches your gaze and he gets all smug saying, "Are you checking me out?" And you're just shrugging your shoulders trying to play it off like , "No, why would I?" Carmen turns to you and goes, "Oh, because I have a girlfriend and she's the best of the best" and he laughing , while you're biting your lip as you say, "The best of the best, hm? Tell me more about her".

And he's dropping the plate back in the sink, lazily walking over to you. Hand sneaking onto your hips and you can feel the smell of his cologne and it's already driving you mad. "She got these pretty eyes", he says his fingers softly brushing the hair away from your eyes, "And she got this adorable nose", Carmy taps the tip of your nose, "And her fucking lips. So pretty and so fucking delicious"

You bite your lip in return making Carmen growl, "Do you even know what you're doing to me, woman?", he asks, you're shake your head innocently. "Well, you make me fucking hot and bothered yeah...", his grip on your hips tightens, he's pressing you against the counter and then all of a sudden gripping your bum as he lifts you up. You let out a squeal, but he doesn't go far, he's just placing you carefully on the kitchen counter, arms on either side of you. "You're so beautiful", he mutters. Lost in the way you look. "You're tipsy, bab", you brush some of his loose curls away from his face. "I can be freaking tipsy or as sober as a baby and still, you'd be the most breathtaking woman I've ever seen", he purrs, "How did I get so lucky?" You giggle slightly, "Well, you know... You are pretty good in the kitchen, make some delicious food", you trial off. "Only good in the kitchen, huh?", he raises an eyebrows at you, "I think someone is in desperately needs to be reminded of last night".

[weemswife]

Work exhaustion

Larissa Weems x Female reader

Summary: Reader works as a part-time assistant for a fashion editor, so sometimes she can have very long and exhausting days at photoshoots, and this day was one of them.

Author's note: so yeah this is my first ever fanfic that i have written so please be kind lol, and this fic is maybe more like ‘day in my life’ kind of fic and is more focused on the reader than Larissa. And the fic is actually briefly based on my recent workday but i of course changed many things. Btw i would love to know your thoughts on this fic, and please remember that english is NOT my first language. And this is probably the messiest fanfic ever lmao.

Warnings: a brief mention of sexual content, exhaustion, a bit of strong language, bad english i think that's it but please let me know if you think other ways. ty :)

Word count: 2357

*alarm sound goes on*

“Goddamnit” you mumbled quickly turning off the alarm so you wouldn't wake the sleeping woman next to you.

you checked the time on your phone and it was 6:40am. You weren't a morning person at all so it took all of you not to go back to sleep because you knew how long your day was going to be.

You quietly got up from the bed the two of you shared, you didn't want to wake up Larissa because the school hasn't started yet so she could sleep a bit longer than normally even though she would be doing work things on her computer during the day, she didn't have to wake up at 5am like she normally did. You walked to the bathroom that was connected to your large bedroom and did your morning routines, after that you quietly gathered all the things you needed from the bedroom and went to the kitchen/livingroom to change your clothes that you already chose last night, (the outfit was just a dark blue hoodie and jeans) after changing your clothes you started making your breakfast which was just a piece of bread with cheese and cucumber slices on it and of course you had your morning coffee. 

After breakfast you took your favourite smoothie from the fridge and putted it in your bag because you knew that you needed something to drink during the day, you checked the time on your phone and it was 7:18am, two minutes before you had to leave, so you quickly checked that you got everything and putted your leather jacket and shoes on and then you opened the door of your so called apartment and left. 

Walking through the empty hallways of the Nevermore Academy you took your headphones from the front pocket of your hoodie and putted them on your ears, after that you opened the Spotify app on your phone and pressed play on the ‘This is Fleetwood Mac’ playlist that you listened all the time and the first song that started playing was one of your favourites songs that Larissa actually introduced to you and it was song called ‘Say you will’.

When you finally got out of the school you checked the time and it was 7:22am, you had 13 minutes before your bus to the city you were today going would stop on your closest bus-station, so you started walking toward the bus-station on your normal walking pace which some people wouldn't consider as a normal walking because you were actually a very fast walker, you had always been that way and you believe that you got it from your dad because he was also a very fast walker and of course one reason could be that you were together with Larissa because literally her one step was same as normal person taking two steps. And in your opinion you didn't have problems with keeping up on Larissa’s walking pace when the two of you were walking in the forest or in just around Jericho.

When you got to the bus-station you checked the time on your phone and it was 7:31am so you still had four minutes left before your bus would be there. 

The 4 minutes passed and you finally got on the bus where you would be sitting the next 40 minutes. The only thing that kept you together during the bus trip was music, it was probably one of the most important things in your life and as cliche as it was you believed that you couldn't seriously live without it.  

The 40 minutes passed very quickly and you realised that your stop would be next. You waited for a moment before the bus stopped and you got off. You then started walking to a studio where you would start your day with the photographer, your boss and the model. You were supposed to be at the studio at 8:30am but when you arrived in front of the building you checked the time on your phone and it was 8:22am, you were early as always. Then you realised that the door that led into the studio was slightly open and you were glad about it, because if the door was closed you would have call your boss so she could open it and you really didn't like calling to her so now that you got the change you opened the door a bit more so you could get in and closed it behind your back.

From inside the studio was quiet so you thought that there was no one except you so when you walked a bit forward into the studio you almost freaked out when all of sudden you saw Annie. “Hi” said she “hi, what are you doing here?” you asked “oh well i’ll be the assistant for the photographer today.” she answered. “Okay well i'm happy that you’re here ” you said, you liked Annie even though this  was the second time you actually met her, but she was much more energetic and helpful than you were. You didn't have anything to do so you just chatted a moment with her before she got a text message that she would have to go to the grocery store to get breakfast for your crew.

After a couple of hours everything was ready in the studio and you left to the location with the crew, you literally needed two cars because there was so much stuff that the photographer needed and also the clothes took a lot of space.

After you arrived at a small building that was in the area where the photo shooting would happen you were told that you would be staying the whole time in the building guarding the clothes etc.

So you just sat there and after everytime the shot for one look was done you of course helped the model change, there were 8 different outfits that would be photographed. Of course after your boss realised that you were just chilling during the shoots she made you do a million different kind of things that you had literally never done before.

The photo shoot took only 4 hours and when you were done you had to pack everything and carry all the bags to the car that would take them back to the studio. After everybody was ready you just left, it took a while to get to the studio but when you finally got there you started packing everything away with Annie.

After spending two hours in the studio packing all the clothes, shoes and bags with Annie you were finally free to go and you were exhausted. You thought that it was actually almost funny how tired you were, because all you did during the day was sitting around and help the model get out of the clothes and change in new ones, maybe it was the packing or the fact you slept only 5 hours during last night, or the lack of food or the fact you were working almost 10 hours straight, but honestly it didn't matter. When you left the studio and started walking towards the bus-station with Annie you took your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and texted Larissa:

“I’ll be home in one hour and i haven't eaten much today…”

You checked the time and it was almost 6pm so Larissa should be done with her work for the day, so you waited a few moments when you saw that she had seen your messages and then she started writing you back.

“Oh sweetheart, that doesn't sound good, i’ll make you something to eat when you get home:).”

You just replied with “<3”. And then you put your phone back in your pocket. 

You realised that you were already at the bus-station so you waited with Annie for your buses to come, her bus came first so you said goodbyes and then she went in and the bus left. You checked the time on your phone and it was 6:01pm three minutes before your bus comes. So you took your headphones from your bag and put them on your ears and started listening to Fleetwood Mac again.

3 minutes pass and you are already in the bus where you will sit for the next 40 minutes again..

The 40 minutes pass surprisingly quickly when you try your best not to fall asleep and you realise that your stop is next so you get out of your seat and wait for the bus to stop and you get out. After getting out your tired mind realised that you have to walk to the school, you were still exhausted. Honestly you wished that you didn't have to take another step today, but you really didn't have choices because it was too late to call Larissa to come and get you and also you didn’t want to bother her anyway. So you started walking the road that led to the school knowing that it would take much more time than it normally took. 

Almost 15 minutes later, almost at the school you tried your best to walk even a bit faster knowing that in just a moment you would be at home with Larissa. Opening the main door of the school you started walking towards your apartment door, when you came face to face with a large wooden door you unlocked it with your key and went in.

Inside the apartment Larissa was buzzing around your small kitchen while making food for you, but when she heard you opening the door she immediately turned to see you coming into the room. 

“Hi” you said with a small voice, you seriously didn't even have the energy to speak anymore.

“Hi” she answered while walking towards you she saw how exhausted you looked and when she was close enough to touch you she took you into her arms and hugged you.

She eventually let go and started walking back to the kitchen so she could finish the food.

“The food is almost ready dear, so please take your shoes and jacket off and go to sit on the sofa.”

You didn't even realise that you still had your shoes and jacket on so you took them off and walked slowly towards the sofa and tried your best to stay awake.

Meanwhile Larissa has finished the food she made which was chicken and rice because she knew you loved it. She then came towards you and sat next to you on the sofa while speaking quietly.

“The food is ready now sweetheart, you can eat it on the sofa but first you need to change into more comfortable clothing, i can go get the clothes for you but what do you want?” she almost whispered.

“Maybe an oversized t-shirt and my black pyjama pants would be nice” you answered.

“All right, i’ll be right back dear” she said while getting up from the sofa.

A couple of minutes passed and when she came back she saw you almost half asleep. 

You were almost falling asleep until you heard Larissa’s footsteps coming towards you. Now she knelt in front of you and said,

“I’ll help you to change your clothes now if you allow me?”

You just answered by nodding your head.

Then she took the hem of your shirt into her hands and started moving it upwards.

“Darling, could you please raise your hands for me so i can take this hoodie off?” she asked.

You did what you were told and lazily raised your hands so Larissa could get the hoodie off easier.

After she had almost completely undressed you and the only things you still had on were bra and underwear, Larissa watched you for a moment while sitting on the floor in front of you.

Usually this sight would turn her on in seconds but she knew that you could fall asleep in any minute so she gathered herself from the floor and started dressing you in her old oversized t-shirt that had a picture of Stevie Nicks on it and after putting on the shirt she helped you into the pyjama pants.

After that she went back to the kitchen to get you some food, she then returned to the sofa where you were sitting and handed you the plate.

You started slowly eating the food that Larissa had made for you, while she sat next to you and watched while you ate.

After finishing the food you thanked Larissa and leaned your head on her shoulder.

She didn't first even realise that you had fallen asleep until she started hearing that you breath steadied and when you didn't answer anything when she whispered into your ear.

Larissa let you sleep for a while before she slowly stood up and you still didn't wake up. She then gathered you into her arms and lifted you up from the sofa and carried you into your bedroom.

She put you down on the bed and went to the bedroom to get your hairbrush and a small tube of gel that you put on your face every night before going to bed.

After she finished doing your nighttime routines for you and you were still sleeping Larissa just moved you so your position would be more comfortable and then she covered most of your body with the blanket so you wouldn't feel cold during the night.

She then left the bedroom and went back to the kitchen/livingroom and made sure that all things were where they should be so that you wouldn't have to worry about that in the morning.

After cleaning Larissa returned to the bedroom and started doing her own nighttime routines, letting her hair down and brushing it, changing into something more comfortable, doing her skincare routines etc. 

After she was done with the nighttime routines Larissa climbed into the bed and carefully pulled your body close to hers so she could spoon you from behind, then she whispered “good night my love”

And closed her eyes.

[tanith-rhea]

Neighbours

Miranda just broke up with her fifth boyfriend of the year. It is September and she is starting to feel done with juvenile relationships and thinks it's time to settle down and focus exclusively on her Policing Bachelor's. To this effect, she moves to a new apartment to start the new no-relationships (or at least no-men) chapter of her life. Shame that her new neighbour seems to disagree with that… at least when she’s sleeping.

Word count: 3k

Part One, Part Two

I love this gif by @kingpreciouswrld so much, thank you!

Your new neighbour is the cutest person you’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s no big deal, obviously, but it would be stupid to deny she is the person with the biggest puppy vibes you’ve ever encountered.

You first saw her coming back from a workday. She was just moving in, a few boxes in the corridor, some blocking your door. Your previous apartment was a disarray of disassembled furniture and all manner of clutter.

You missed your old apartment, but it was for the better. The new one, just across the corridor, was a one-bedroom at almost half the price, it was also half the size, but you could not care less, being only you.

“Hey, do you want some help with this?” you remember asking the bent-over girl lifting the heavy-looking boxes.

She didn’t respond immediately, instead turning around to look at you with white-blond eyebrows up on her forehead.

“Oh my god, sorry! Am I blocking the way?” she tried to flatten herself in the wall, but the box was still very big if you were to pass.

“No” you chuckled, amused with her sweet but ineffective attempt at making space “I live here, actually” you knocked on your door and shrugged.

“Fuck I’m blocking your actual fucking door” she seemed exasperated with herself, turning slightly pink. She was so adorable you felt your stomach bubbly. Maybe you would throw up rainbows, who knew?

“It’s no problem, really. I can just open it and jump over the box. I’m asking if you want help” you tried to smile gently. Most of the time your smiles were snarky or smug, so you didn’t have much practice conveying niceness.

She bit her lip and you wanted to curl into a ball and scream in happiness. How the hell did she manage to be so cute? You wanted to punch her.

“All right… yeah, thank you. If you’re serious…” she gave you a sheepish smile and you promptly lifted some boxes as well.

The boxes were indeed damned heavy. It only made you admire even more how easily she seemed to pile two or three of them and bring them inside. She could throw you across the room without breaking a sweat, you were sure.

She thanked you again and you tried to act normal and said she could just shout if help was needed. You were just across the corridor anyway.

She didn’t shout for help. She didn’t even call for a chat, actually. You left early in the morning to work and came back close to six when she was already inside, you assumed, watching television or playing games or whatever you assumed students did these days.

The only interaction you had after the moving in was when you came back from work two days later to find a chocolate cake on a paper plate with a “thank you <3” note on it. The heart and her handwriting were very round, and you thought she must have had one of those teachers that made kids write four pages of calligraphy with every homework.

You didn’t even have the excuse of giving the plate back, and what would you say if you simply knocked on her door? Hello, I think you are adorable and would like to spend time with you even though we are just neighbours, and I don’t mind if you don’t find me attractive, I just want to look at your cute as fuck face? No, that wouldn’t do. You just had to accept your predicament and move on.

But the mind is a funny thing, and countless nights of not sleeping enough and rewatching Buffy, The Vampire Slayer atop the stress of applying to culinary school were just the thing it needed to decide it was time for a good old sleepwalking.

The first time it happened you woke up trying to open the door to your old apartment at four in the morning. The hallway was dimly lit by the soft blue nightlights kept for those who stumbled home after a wild night out or left to work in the ungodly hours of the morning. You went back to your own apartment, drank very cold water and decided an early start was as good a decision as any. You made scrambled eggs for a change and actually had breakfast before leaving.

The second time was the same. You woke up cold with your hand twisting insistently in your neighbour’s doorknob. By the fifth you were starting to get frustrated, and by seventh, you were beginning to consider telling Miranda about your predicament, lest she decided to go for a midnight walk and find you trying to break into her apartment.

But you didn’t have the chance. The eighth time, Miranda forgot her door open, and your sleepwalking self was satisfied to finally be able to enter her “home”. You woke up with a searing pain in your head.

“Are you awake? Are you all right? Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, you scared the shit out of me!” your neighbour’s voice was a high-pitched audio on 2x velocity.

Her hands were on your face, and you were sprawled on the rug of her living room.

“What…?” your heart rate was slowly rising, and you didn’t understand what was happening. You were partially used to waking up in the hallway but laying on the ground with a panicked Miranda on top of you was at least a bit disorientating.

“I think you sleepwalked into my home” she took a deep breath, trying to lower her volume “I heard something bumping from my room and came out to see a figure down the hallway… so I hit you with a frying pan”

“You did what?!” the absolute nerve! Well, actually you invaded her home, so good on her for defending herself “What if I was a real burglar? You would come at me with a frying pan?” your head was still aching, probably where she hit you, but you gave her a side smile.

“I’m at policing school for something, aren’t I?” she went up and offered you a hand smiling, she seemed relieved.

Policing then. That made sense considering her height and strength, but you could swear she was an artsy one, maybe sculpting and drinking herbal tea or whatever.

“Sorry, officer, didn’t mean to cause any trouble” you joked, getting up and patting your pyjamas.

“Next time I’ll have you arrested” she arched a brow, amused.

You definitely wouldn’t mind that. Ok, that was enough. She was cute, yes. It was the middle of the night and she had bed hair and her blouse was hanging off her right shoulder but that didn’t give any right.

“I’ll, hm… go then” you pointed behind your shoulder to the door “You probably want to go back to sleep… I should too” you smiled tightly, trying to keep the swagger or whatever, look cool, even if you had just invaded her home, flirted with her and stared at her unguarded form probably still warm from sleeping.

She seemed to jump at that, realizing the circumstances, and looked at the clock. Almost five, damn.

”Oh, you could actually stay. It’s not a problem” she speed-talked at you.

“Are you sure…? You could still sleep around… two hours?”

“Classes start at eight, might as well make use of the extra time” she shrugged, smiling contently “But you don’t have to stay if you don’t want” she quickly added, seeming less confident.

Jesus, the girl was a rollercoaster of emotions.

“No, sure. I’ll stay” you smiled, and she seemed satisfied with that “Actually, I’ll make you breakfast. You go shower and get ready and I’ll make you panda-shaped banana pancakes” you blinked, trying not to laugh at her confused look.

“All right…” she walked slowly to the hallway “Will you need help in the kitchen?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll find my way” you reassured her, and she nodded shortly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Miranda was the funniest girl you had met in a long while. She was direct and innocent in a hilarious and charming way. After two or three pancakes she was asking you about your preference for sleepwear bottoms or what brand of toothpaste you used. You also discovered she swore off men after five bad relationships in only a year. That was interesting but discouraging at the same time. For one, she wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with a man, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t straight. Chances were that she was, from how she talked about men, and that was at the very least really disappointing. You thought you had a chance when you first saw her, but that just went to teach you never to judge a book by its tall, beautifully breathtaking cover. She was an absolute lesbian thirst trap, and it was hugely unfair.

At least now you were friends, not simply the person across the hallway, and you could be content with that; if not jumping excitedly in gay bliss, but that was ok.

One breakfast turned into eating junk food over at your place, watching Buffy because you still had one season to go for your fourth rewatch, and talking about all manner of things. Miranda was in the third year of her bachelor’s degree, halfway to graduation because she studied only in the mornings. She was twenty-one, two years younger than you, and apparently had fooled around with some girls in the past; mostly just “straight and curious” as she put it. She didn’t seem too happy about it, and you didn’t touch the subject again.

Almost an entire month of eating at each other’s places and watching whatever was on television went by and you could almost lie well enough to yourself that you weren’t slowly falling for her and were just happy for becoming closer and closer friends with her. But then it happened.

You had drunk a few beers together while Miranda did some research for a paper she was due next month. It was late and you were napping lightly on her shoulder when she leaned on your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“You can go sleep if you want, I’ll finish this in a bit anyway” she murmured close to you and in your half-sleeping daze you only agreed with a hum and went to the bedroom.

Her bedroom, in the apartment that wasn’t yours anymore.

She saw you walk down the corridor and didn’t say anything, which was strange. Some people didn’t mind having friends sleeping over, but you were going to her room, not the guest’s, and still, she didn’t utter a word. Later, she went to sleep as well. You were already deep in a dreamless sleep unlike you’d had in a long while. She slipped in the covers beside you and brought you to her chest, you sighed contently in the crook of her neck while she played with your hair until she too fell asleep.

Waking up in Miranda’s bed was the sweetest sensation. Her body was warm, all tangled with yours, and she snored softly with her head atop yours. For a few seconds you were in heaven, and then the situation finally dawned in your head. You were sleeping in Miranda’s arms. How the hell did that happen? You remembered last night as if it was… well, yesterday. She said you could go to sleep, but she didn’t specify where, and your sleep-deprived brain took you to the exact bed it had been trying to get you into for at least a week and a half some time ago. And Miranda did nothing. Actually, she didn’t “do nothing”, she went and slept with you in said goddamned bed.

“I can hear you thinking” a sleepy voice came from atop you; Miranda was awake and hugging you while pressing her nose to your hair. She made a contented hum and hold you tighter before letting you go, sitting up “It’s all right, this was your apartment, I get that you would go to your old room if you were sleepy and not thinking clearly” she smiled, letting you off the hook.

She was so unfairly beautiful with pillow marks on her cheeks and sleepy dust in her eyes, a dopey smile not at all timid, but warm, before getting up and crossing the corridor to the bathroom.

You were in hell. You also were in heaven, but it didn’t belong to you. Miranda was your friend; she was straight and very much not interested in a relationship at the moment. She said so herself, countless times while drunk and complaining about ex-lovers, whom you wanted to beat to the ground for not seizing the opportunity of catching her eye, thank you very much. You could not continue doing this. You were far too invested for your own good and it was time to take a step back and reflect.

You got up, knocked on the bathroom door to say you were going home to get ready for work and left.

The following days were horrible. Miranda would come over with takeout only for you to lie about a headache and wanting to sleep, or you wouldn’t come back till it was late enough that she would be inside watching tv. Sometimes you said you had work stuff to sort out, which you didn’t, and she knew because you worked at a café. It also wasn’t a good enough excuse because she did college stuff all time at your house and it never was a problem. She knew what you were doing, and she didn’t stop you. Maybe she was relieved.

It was Saturday night, almost a week after the “I can’t keep lying to myself that I love you” incident. Miranda hadn’t knocked in two days, and you were eating ice cream on the sofa while indulging in some well-deserved skin care consisting of tears and self-pity when a voice sounded at the door.

“Hey… are you there? I can listen to the tv” it was Miranda, of course it was.

You knew you were being a drama queen, but you enjoyed those stages of breakups where you could cry all day and stuff yourself with sweets. It didn’t mean you wanted her to see that.

You hid the ice cream underneath the coffee table and furiously cleaned your face in the hem of your t-shirt before opening the door.

“Hi! Sorry, I was just cleaning, everything is a mess today, I’d prefer you didn’t see it” you didn’t even give her a chance to speak.

She looked easily over your shoulder, noticing nothing out of place.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to interrupt” she looked at her hands, squishing each other nervously “Listen… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’d like for us to go back to normal” she sounded so sorrowful you wanted to bang your head in the wall for being the cause.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable” one truth “it just has been a busy week, I really wish we could have hung out more” two lies, well, one and a half. Could she spot which was which in your voice?

She looked at you uncertainly, her hands clenching like she needed strength to proceed with whatever she wanted to do.

“I understand your position in this situation, and I respect it. It was inappropriate of me to take advantage and a completely absurd assumption as well” she closed her eyes forcefully for a few seconds, her brows furrowed tightly before looking at you again “I can keep my feelings to myself and be only your friend. Everything would be normal; I wouldn’t even touch you if you’d like”

What the hell was she on about? Keep her feelings to herself, what the fuck?

“What? Randee, you didn’t take advantage of me, I slept on your bed. You could have kicked me out if you so wanted, it was your right, and you didn’t. You were actually decent and pretended it was all ok and reasonable”

She seemed confused, and you were starting to feel a bit frustrated at the situation. Nothing she said made sense.

“No, it wasn’t right of me because I wanted it!” she had to stop speed-talking at you like this, you could barely understand her “I could have slept on the couch, or in the guest room, but no. I slept with you… because I wanted to, and because I could… and now I wish I hadn’t because you’re pulling away from me and I feel like you don’t even want to be friends anymore while I can’t get enough of even being near you”

…

What now? Your heart was eerily calm for what you’d just heard. Did it stop and you were dying? Would it expand and explode from the absolute incredulity of what you had just heard?

Miranda’s bottom lip was trembling and she looked alarmingly close to breaking down in tears when you lunged yourself forward to hug her.

She sobbed, heavens allow it to be in relief, and hugged you back with much more strength than you could take. You could barely breathe but you didn’t pull away.

She started crying this time, but you traced soothing patterns in her back until it subsided and brought her inside to sit on the sofa. You brought up the ice cream starting to melt from underneath the coffee table and offered her. She accepted and ate while sobbing. It was the sweetest, most wonderful thing you’d seen in your entire life. You cuddled up to her side, hugging her shoulders while she calmed down. You could barely keep your excitement from showing now that you knew she wanted you back. This incredible woman wanted you back.

When she finally calmed down and put the ice cream aside, you loosened your grip on her shoulder and looked at her face, her puffy red adorable face.

“I wanted to as well,” you said simply, looking her in the eyes, hers locking into yours with a surprised glint “And I couldn’t deal with the feelings I had so I decided to keep my distance”

She was silent for a moment, searching your face for any signs you weren’t saying the truth.

“Do you still?” she asked slowly, looking at your lips.

“I do” you whispered before smashing your lips together.

[writersp3n]

···➯ 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

⋆.˚ ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐗 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞; I was supposed to this like months ago😭😭Masterlist and other things regarding my blog are on my site.

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; Headcanons about Francis!!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; fluff

𝟏𝟏-𝟓-𝟐𝟒 | 𝟓𝟓𝟓 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

✂〰〰〰〰〰

-- Favorite singer is Nat Cole King, I mean like have yall heard him. Francis seems like he would like his tone of voice and the loving nature of his songs. This remind him of Anastasha, mostly and his songs are very easy to play on His piano. (yes, I did sit down for like 45 mins listening to different artist in the 40s, 50s, and whatnot.)

-- Grew up a middle child, which is why he's so reserved and quiet. Doesn't really like the spotlight on him and lives his quaint life by himself satisfied.

-- Favorite color is scarlet, this is his favorite color because of strawberries, the color itself reminds him of his mother's garden, and the sweet smell the berries gave off during the summer.

-- favorite fruit is strawberries, he likes the sweet taste they give off, and his mother had a small garden full of strawberries before she died. (They were the sweet Charlie ones.)

-- His favorite song is, 'Pretty Little Angel Eyes' by Curtis Lee, which was the song playing in the background when Nacha told him she was pregnant. And was also played throughout Nacha's pregnancy, and in the hospital room, while Francis held her hand while she pushed Anastacha out.

-- He does call Anastasia "Ana" for short, which she doesn't mind unless someone else does that not Francis, she even got snappy at Nacha for calling her that.

-- Took piano lessons as a child. Still has that skill but typically doesn't like to flaunt. Has a humble old piano in his apartment he plays but very softly to not disturb his neighbors. (My turn: Anastasha, also likes listening to him play songs on it, usually falling asleep to them.)

-- Big softie for animals, when he does his milkman runs around the block, he definitely pets the local strays and feeds them spare crackers he may have packed for lunch. He wishes he could keep one but doesn’t really have the time and plus the apartment complex doesn’t allow pets because of doppel precautions! (I'm ignoring this whole sentence.)

-- Hes a bit (Very) messy. but if he's not sleeping throughout the day, he definitely makes an effort in cleaning his place up and making a proper meal for himself. On overwhelming workdays though, his clothes are scattered everywhere and it's quick and easy meals for dinner. (My turn: I Think Francis is honestly very messy, Anastasha helping clean up bit when he has her over. the only thing that would be clean is her room, and his bedroom wouldn't be as dirty but still dirty as the rest of the apartment.)

-- Barely socializes with neighbors. He isn't necessarily buddy-buddy with any of his neighbors, however, there is some acquaintance with Angus and Izaack (mainly because of their extroverted personalities, they must be known by everyone in the complex!). -- Super shy about physical affection or any type of affection. It would take a good while for him to make any sort of first move. He would do a little secret admiring from afar just to warm up to it. Nothing too intense. Consider leaving a rose or a nice compliment on the front desk while no one is looking. Definitely had to be hyped up by Isaack to go through with it.

[bardic-inspo]

Writer Interview

Playing some catch up on tags. Tagged by the wonderful @pursuitseternal, @marlowethebard, @nyx-knox, @honeybee-bard, @snowfolly,

and @paganwitchisis holy shit thank you all!!

Not sure who all in my circles has done this already, but gonna tag @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate, @astarionancuntnin, @pinkberrytea, @locallegume, @thedreamlessnights,

@ladymdc, and @carooosa if you see this and would like to do it! No worries if not!

When did you start writing?

Around 13/14 years old, doing warrior cats roleplay on proboards forums. Roleplay isn't really my speed anymore, but it eventually bridged me into more traditional narrative writing and then fanfic later. Fallout 4 was the first fandom I really wrote fanfic for.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I really love intricate long-running plots with slow-burn pay off, and used to write more in that vein, but got pretty burnt out on it. It felt like it would take so long to get to those big moments I pictured the whole time, by the time I arrived to them, they felt played out in my head. Trying to strike a happy medium now by writing (relatively) shorter and more focused fic/storylines that still pack a punch, but maybe have fewer branches.

Otherwise my genre/theme preferences are generally the same with writing vs. reading and are pretty broad.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

Not a writer, but I've been told at various times there is a poetical element in a lot of my writing, even in just the sentence structure or how I tend to pace my prose. That makes a lot of sense to me, since I wrote a lot of poetry before getting into writing a lot of prose.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I used too many tricks on my brain to jump start creativity (yummy beverage, cozy blanket, favorite candle when writing) and now my brain often demands all of these things be in place to do any writing 😬I can sometimes get away without all of them. Usually, I'm writing in my office, which is a pretty blue color with some gold picture frames and often a soothing space. But, I do work from home in there at times, too, and on workdays I can't make myself do creative things in the same spot I sat in working all day. Then, I'll be at my dining table or sitting on my couch, usually with headphones because I have a hard time concentrating with other noise around me.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Self care. I mean, making sure I've got sleep/food/hygiene etc. squared away where they should be, even if it means taking a break from the page. Most of the time when I'm trying hard to write and it's just not jiving, it's because I've neglected one of those things, and the words always come easier once I've addressed them.

Playing the game again. Listening to character music. Chatting with friends who love the character, too.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Yes! A lot of them became apparent to me only after switching fandoms and realizing I was writing about a lot of similar themes. Grief is a big one. Characters who've experienced both a lack of love and a loss of it. Characters who fall in love again or in spite of that loss. The main ships I've written for all feature characters who either loved someone else first or, in Astarion's case, have gone through the forced motions of romance.

Battle couples is another big one. Bisexual battle couples. 🥰

What is your reason for writing?

It's always felt like something I needed to do to feel whole. Not necessarily the sharing the writing or posting it part, or getting a reaction about it, but doing it at all, even just a little. Even if it's just for me. I feel more me when writing is at least a small part of my life. More free. It's my creative outlet.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I adore any comment. I'm borrowing this from someone else's interview post, but I too am a slut for praise. In all honesty though, just knowing I'm not writing into some void or vacuum can be so powerful. Even just a heart emoji comment makes my spirits soar.

The ones that go full red string and corkboard about the plot or characters, or quote what parts stick out to them always stick with me. It lets me know I'm hitting the mark with what I'm trying to convey.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I want them to know I'm still good for it even if it takes me a long time.💜That's the biggest thing to me right now. I'm not able to pour it out so quickly as others can. But I hope they know it'll be a good time when I do eventually post.

And also that I'm just some lady. I'm just another human bean. Wanting to share and enjoy stories with other human beans, and connect with a sense of community through those stories.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Visceral/punchy action scenes, vivid descriptions, setting tone, and portraying character personalities.

How do you feel about your own writing?

My feelings about it change with the tides. Right now, I'm a bit glum, and I think that's because I haven't had much to share or post lately, even though I've been doing lots of writing that isn't ready to be shared yet. On the other hand, I'm having the most fun with it that I've had in a very long time, and that element feels great.

I'm grateful for what I've done, incredibly blessed to have made friends and found community through writing, and ever-striving to find the happy medium of productivity and creativity.

When you write, are you influenced by what others enjoy might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

It's mostly what I'd like hehe. And I'm happy about that. I am often inspired to try things based on what I see in fandom, but if I don't enjoy it, too, I won't pursue it further.

[jmdbjk]

Good morning! Pt. 2

I forgot to mention that it started to pour down rain (hence Rainy Day Fight) whenever JK was out there lost in the streets and I’m sure that added to his stress because he didn’t know how to get back to the dorm. Thundering, lightning, who knows... wind maybe... some outside force got upset at JK in that moment. The Universe seemed to step in and pour a bucket of water on a young JK's head to get his attention... it worked.

Continuing...

So he's scrolling through a million cooking videos and then all of a sudden "Lee Mujin Service April Fools Day Special" comes up?

I can't be the only one who is giving that the big ol' side eye... amongst all the food/cooking videos THAT one shows up? Riiiight...

He says he hasn't seen it... riiiiight.... whatever you say Kookie.

Curiously... the translation subtitle says he said "Jimin!" but that's not what he said. I don't know what he said but it wasn't Jimin.

He fast forwards a little and then this:

Hahahahaha! Yep, I bet you've heard enough about Face album to last you a while. That project tied up your Jiminie for most of the past year and had you sitting in your living room-cave drinking beer and eating gobs of fried chicken in front of Netflix all winter long singing to your giant tv and keeping the neighbors awake.

But that doesn't stop Kook from obviously loving Like Crazy...

[we're sorry we're experiencing technical difficulties with the video, please standby]

He couldn't think of Bosa Nova for the genre.

The mimicking was 💀 ... I died. I can see Jimin practicing some mock interviews with him. That seems very much like something Jimin would do. JK loves his Jimin. That's all there is to it.

Then he sang along with Lee Mujin on "Butterfly" and "Traffic Light" where he unleashed some killer ad libs. He proceeded to play air drums.

When he was done with that he scrolled some more and commented there are only cooking shows... I swear ... how did the Lee Mujin show just appear amongst all the cooking shows Kookie?? hmmmmm????

He has watched it before, that's how, it was in his history.

I have to tell you... I will admit, my mind lives in the gutter... please get that stick out from between your legs and ESPECIALLY STOP rubbing the knob at the end of it!!!

You can't tell me he doesn't know what we say on here about him. He lurks in the rabbit hole...I just know it.

Finds this specific thing and then proceeds to sing along with himself... if the neighbors managed to keep sleeping through the drumming on the furniture jam session, they surely woke up when he started to belt out Airplane Pt. 2.

But he couldn't remember the lyrics to Save Me...

When the Best of Me verse came up where he and Jimin do the switchy-switchy back and forth choreo he couldn't help himself... he had to couch dance... and it turned out to be a loop hahahahaha!

Then he belted out Wasurenai by Tanaka. The neighbors probably have given up on sleeping in by now. It's a workday anyway. Get your ass out of bed.

[the toes...] I'm not a foot person but I would give him a foot rub.

That's because you are interrupting your body's involuntary intake and exhalation of oxygen. It is theorized that the brain triggers yawns to keep you alert. I know everyone needed to know that. Don't look at my brain, its scary in there. Moving on...

And then he swapped hats and launched into a 5 minute impression of G-Dragon... I don't know anything about G-Dragon except he was in BigBang with Taeyang. I did see him arriving at Incheon one time and he was wearing the shortest shorts I've ever seen a man wear in public these days. They were like booty shorts... He did not make eye contact with anyone, as if he wished he was somewhere else. Came across as a typical western rapper... full of attitude and not gratitude. That's my impression of who G-Dragon is. Anyway. This:

Paint me clueless because I have no idea what just happened.

Ok, let me take a step away for a second and speak about something: Jungkook just parodied G-Dragon. He was mimicking Jimin earlier... ALL IN FUN. The theory is, when you mimic others, you subconsciously create a bond with those individuals. If you dislike someone, your subconscious will dampen any desire to do that. Psychology is fascinating isn't it?

I've seen some trying to weaponize these instances during this live. Jungkook mimics and copies because these are people he enjoys, not people he hates. There is not a malicious bone in JK's body. Just a lot of bones and cartilages that sound like bubble wrap being stepped on when he cracks them. Again moving on...

He stopped on Kurzgesagt, a Youtube channel that creates animated videos on a variety of topics that are informational and enlightening. Kookie loves the aesthetics of the channel.

He spends the next 10 minutes searching for something to watch while his brain tries to wind down and tell him its time to sleep. He subconsciously starts humming Like Crazy again and then finds a Jay Park song. I am thinking a collab is coming even though most of us could do without Jay Park. Obviously, Jungkook has a thing for him so I will remain open minded about any song should one be released. JK's vocals will elevate it to the stratosphere regardless.

I remember the pushback when we learned about Jimin's collab with Taeyang. And it turned out to be a great song and speaking for myself, I found Taeyang to be a decent and likable human. Why I ever doubted the kind of person Jimin would admire, I have no idea.

Displaying his prowess of composing songs on the spot:

The entire live was classic Jungkook. He will talk about almost anything and share a wide-ranging amount of TMI. Even now, he shows us how open he is about so much. He covered so many random things but mostly talked about his three favorite things: working out/body care, cooking and Jimin.

And Jimin and Jungkook...they are still the same as they've always been, always and forever since the rainy day fight up until now.

He finally decided to "rest a bit" before heading out and bid us farewell.

Apobangpo Kookie! I hope we get to see you soon again!

More thoughts as I sit here thinking about Jungkook and Jimin through the years... it shouldn't be taken lightly how much influence Jimin has had on Jungkook. And to think of their dynamic over the years, watching the way they look at each other and speak to each other has evolved. It is rare to be able to observe such a thing happen between two people in real life. The way they both light up when they see the other's presence... lately we've seen it during these lives... they both beam with joy at each other... it's an amazing thing.

(FYI: My gifs and video prevented this post from showing up on the tumblr feed so there are screenshots for now.)

[be-side-my-self]

First watch of Season 4 of Only Murders In The Building (E4)

Rewatch of ONLY Murders In The Building to prepare for season 4:

<Part I> // <Part II> // <Part III> // <Part IIII> // <Part V> // <Part VI> // <Part VII> // <Part VIII>

<S4 E1> // <S4 E2> // <S4 E3>

This is no rewatch but my new posts can also easily be blocked because I'll continue to use #OMITBRewatch as a tag. I'll also tag #OMITBS4. While quoting, I use M, O, C for the main characters.

S4 E4

Again we start with a whistling sound

And the intro is like a horror movie

Who was the speaker? Is that a british accent?

I'm one of those lucky people that only have to get up at 07:30 on a workday.

Also Oliver is amazing, "Give me 10 minutes" and he instantly starts to snore. Well, old people need their sleep.

Did Mabel walk over in her sleeping clothes? Around the Arconia? Along the street? How is the West Tower connected???

So... cowboys, whistling, Portugal...

Oliver is spiraling.

O: "No, that is a one-way ticket to Cuck City, population: Putnam!"

Cuncussions is probably a bar.

It's a stuntman bar.

Oh! Trivia nights on thursdays! :D

O: "Susie, brightness down!" I am glad they didn't go "Siri, brightness down!" and everyone who watched it on their ipad would suddenly have a darker screen XD

Holy shit that bed is crazy and Howard is crazy too. I wonder what he is running away from? What is going on with Jonathan?

Aw, Howard :(

M: "Have you ever been to Hell's Kitchen?" C: "Yeah I have been eaten at Olivers." I love Mabels expression.

A fake IG account... with a complete backstory.

Who gave Oliver such a big ipad anyway? That is like 2k.

Mabel is dying a thousand deaths

... those stuntpeople are great.

Oh and it's an irish accent. Thank you subtitles!

Glen: "Or I was, till you fecker rubbed him out. " O: "Who feckers? Us feckers?" Glen: "All yas feckin' fecker took him from me!

Cheers! I'll drink to that.

That doll of a man?

Glen went crazy. ...

the CoBro poster in the background!

Glen is batshit but I like him.

... PLEASE HOWARD! That is obviously fake! There is no information on that flyer! What the fuck?? Don't get yourself in danger, Howard! Fame is not worth your life!

.... It was a real flyer. ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!

Josh Gad is playing Howard. Okay, I can see it.

Did the Brother sister just adopt Howard as a project?

Apparently they did.

Charles is getting cracked.

And a lot of guilt is within him.

... Hopefully we finally get some answers from the Westies.

Okay... it's about rent... let me go back to season one: “No one wants a murder podcast about real estate!”

Also the daughter having the hots for Rudy makes sense.

... what is this? Right kind of weirdo, wrong kind of weirdo... that is weird. Maybe even suspicious... not that they killed Sazz but they are still suspicious.

So, how many drinks does Charles has to lie on the pool table?

... omg they brake bottles on his head XDDD

Oh shit that was a real bottle and not sugar glass.

It's a real bar fight.

Glen: "Just like Sazz would have wanted."

Aw, a trampolin park :)

"The Sazz Pataki Impact Academy In Paradise, NJ -> 12 beautiful acres of jumping -> 36 1-2-person trampolines -> 12 family/group trampolines -> Food & games - fun for all ages! (owned & operated by a pro stunt person)

Bev is crazy... and that is probably not a real gun.