#been working on this for a hot minute but i started procrastinating

[hyuckiefluff]

casual pt 2 | mark lee

pairing: idol! mark lee x fem.reader genre: fluff, smut, angst wc: 9.6k summary: you fell for mark lee through blurry facetime calls and late-night voice notes, but when the distance starts causing a strain in the relationship, you board a plane to seoul with nothing but a suitcase and a heart that won’t stop beating for him. content warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content, phone-sex, oral (fem. receiving), protected sex, explicit language, long-distance relationship stress, idol pressures, light alcohol consumption, mentions of food & brief mention of disordered eating habits (skipping meals due to stress), tooth rotting domestic fluff. a/n: here it is finally!! i cannot believe i told myself this would take less time than my hogwarts fics and it ended up taking me LONGER 😭 and it’s not even that long so i was 100% just procrastinating. BUT GUYS. i freaking love mark in this because i literally wrote it the way i imagine a relationship with him would be and like… fawk. i want this life so bad. mark give me one chance juseyoooo. anyways, hope u enjoy <3 also! tiny author suggestion: listen to turning page by sleeping at last during the final scene if you wanna fully immerse yourself.

ps: divider by kodaswrld

Another practice room light flickered out down the hallway, and with it the building finally emptied out. Mark was the last one there again.

He peeled off his in-ears, let them dangle around his neck, and flopped backward onto the studio floor. Sweat slicked the vinyl under his shoulder blades. His hoodie had been abandoned somewhere near the mirrors, but he was still running hot, humming with the choreo that refused to leave his muscles even after twelve straight run-throughs.

His manager would murder him if he was late to call time tomorrow, but his brain was nowhere near sleep. It was too busy spinning in the familiar orbit it had fallen into every night for months: you.

Mark fished his phone out of his joggers and opened the last message he had sent hours ago.

on my way to rehearsal. i think you’re gonna love our new song :)

No reply.

He exhaled through his nose. You were probably not awake yet. The quiet between messages always managed to feel personal after a tiring day like this. He scrolled up anyway, re-reading pieces of your conversation. There was a blurry photo of your family’s cat sitting on a stack of Murakami paperbacks. His own late-night voice memo humming a chorus that didn’t have lyrics yet.

The memory of your laugh shoved its way in, uninvited and perfect. Mark shut his eyes. For a second it was easy to pretend the fluorescent hum overhead was your apartment’s old fridge, that the scuffed practice floor was the couch where you’d sit while you argued about pineapple on pizza during video calls.

Mark opened his eyes before the fantasy got too good, pushed up onto his elbows, and grabbed the half-empty water bottle beside him. As he drank, a few texts from his manager pinged through. Mostly schedule changes, wardrobe notes, and a reminder to ice his knee. He swiped them away and pulled up the blank chat bubble with your name again.

Type something, Mark. Anything.

The rehearsal room clock read 01:39 a.m. That was—what, mid-morning for you? You would probably be getting up, maybe grabbing coffee before heading out to work. He pictured you in that oversized cardigan you loved, eyes squinting at your phone because you’d forgotten to put on your contact lenses again.

The thought kicked his pulse into a sprint.

Before he could think, he started typing.

hey, i can’t sleep. just finished practice.random question: if you could teleport for exactly 10 minutes, where would you go?

Mark stared at the message. Too weird? He was about to unsend it when the typing indicator popped up on your side. His chest cinched.

jiwon says i should pick somewhere romantic so i don’t waste the free trip lol. maybe the han river at sunset? i’ve never been.why, where would you go?

He pictured you on the couch, eyes bright, seriously discussing such a silly question with Jiwon the way he probably would have done with Haechan.

His fingers moved before he could overthink.

wherever you are. ten minutes is enough to steal a hug right?

A second passed, and then the dots appeared again.

bold, lee. i like it.also i’d tackle-hug you so it might be nine minutes of us laughing on the floor, hope that’s okay

Mark’s face broke into an idiotic grin. Sleep was officially lost.

He pushed up, snagged his hoodie, and headed for the door, phone still glowing in his hand while your next bubble popped up.

anyway, go shower before you catch a cold. text me when you’re safe in bed

He stared at the screen, thumb hovering.

deal. goodnight for now ;) p.s. you just gave me lyric ideas. hope you don’t mind being a muse

Mark pocketed the phone, heart drumming a new beat that had nothing to do with choreography, and jogged toward the dorms, already humming the melody you had just sparked to life.

He stepped into the night, sweat chilling under his hoodie, headphones pulled over his ears as the city noise swallowed him up. Seoul at two in the morning felt almost peaceful, all the rush muted, and he could finally hear his own thoughts again which was dangerous territory, but better than silence.

There was a bounce in his step he couldn’t explain, even with his knee twinging and his bones begging for a hot shower. All he could think about was your messages, how you always managed to make him feel like a regular guy, not the name thousands of people screamed at concerts.

By the time he was back at the dorm, the lights were low, but Haechan’s voice filtered down the hall—arguing with Johnny about leftovers or LoL or something equally stupid. He slipped off his shoes, tiptoed past the noise, and ducked into the bathroom before anyone could spot him.

Steam billowed as Mark stood under the shower, letting it pound against tired muscles. He replayed your conversation again, grinning at nothing, mouthing the words he had typed, imagining them as lyrics already.

wherever you are. ten minutes is enough to steal a hug right?

He said it again, quieter, letting the steam swallow the edges. Would he actually do it—show up to your door, wrap you up, laugh until his sides hurt and the world faded out? God, he would.

He toweled off, tossed on some sweatpants, and flopped onto his bed. His phone buzzed just as his head hit the pillow.

i hope you’re actually resting and not writing a sad song about me being halfway across the planet

Mark smirked, typing back.

not sad i promise. i’ll probably finish it tonight #insomnia

Your reply hit after a few seconds.

:( insomnia is beating my ass too.i’m sure it’s gonna be cute tho. i wanna listen

He couldn’t help it when a laugh came out, soft and breathless, afraid to wake the others. He wished he could call you, but you were probably heading to work now.

Still, he opened his voice notes and hummed the chorus that had been haunting him. The words fit better now that you’d given him the missing piece. He knew it was corny, but he didn’t care. This was the part they didn’t see, the part that made him want to risk all the rules, just for a few more minutes like this.

He’d been working on a song for weeks now—sometimes he called it “loser,” sometimes he sang it like “lose her.” It started as a joke lyric, a throwaway, but it kept coming back. The words were different every night, but the chorus always landed on you.

i don’t wanna loseri don’t wanna lose her

He hit send without thinking.

for you. don’t laugh if it sucks.

Seconds passed while Mark stared at the phone. The little read indicator popped up almost immediately.

…i love it(and i’m definitely saving this in my secret folder)

He buried his face in his pillow, his pulse racing.

Johnny’s voice floated in from the hallway, half-annoyed. “Mark! You sleeping or composing another heartbreak song in there?”

He shouted back, “Go to bed, hyung!”

Johnny laughed, the door creaking as he walked away. “Don’t blame me when you’re a zombie tomorrow.”

Mark grinned, pulling the blanket over his head and letting his mind drift back to you. He pictured your smile, the shy way you looked away when you were flustered, that little laugh he wanted to hear in person, not just through a phone speaker.

For the first time in days, Mark actually felt sleepy—in a good way. He let the tiredness take him, already counting down the hours until he could text you again.

Soon enough, both of you fell back into your natural rhythm. With calls coming more often, you were back to sharing every little moment of your day.

Practice had ended hours ago, but the thrum of bass still vibrated in Mark’s bones as he padded into the dorm kitchen for a bottle of water. He thumbed his phone, opened your chat, and hovered over the call button. It was late, but the lingering jet lag plus rehearsals meant he didn’t have a normal sleep cycle anyway. He just wanted to hear your voice for thirty seconds, maybe a minute.

He tapped FaceTime before he could talk himself out of it.

The tone rang twice, three times, then connected.

Steam clouded the camera lens first, followed by a startled gasp. You stood in your bathroom, hair dripping, wrapped in nothing but a white towel knotted above your chest. Water beaded across your collarbones, and you were half-laughing, half-mortified as you fumbled with the phone.

“Mark! Give me a sec—”

His throat closed. “I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t think—I’ll call later—”

“You’re fine, just—” You shifted, the towel slipping a centimeter lower.

Mark’s brain short-circuited. “S—sorry! Talk later!” He hit End so fast his thumb stung, then flopped onto his mattress with a hammering heart.

For a full minute, he stared at the ceiling, willing himself to breathe normally. It didn’t help. The image was branded behind his eyelids: your damp hair, flushed cheeks, a single droplet tracking down the slope of your chest.

Great. Now his pulse was pounding in the wrong place.

He rolled onto his side, pillow over his face, trying to think of choreography counts to distract his brain from sending all the blood to his groin. Instead, all he could hear was the soft gasp you made, all he could see was the towel sliding down—

A frustrated groan slipped out. Fine.

Hand sliding under the waistband of his sweatpants, he let the fantasy take over: you standing there for him, towel loosening under his fingertips, your breath catching the way it did when you laughed too hard. The tension coiled fast—months of late-night calls, that night you spent together, everything he hadn’t been able to touch.

When his hand wrapped around his cock, he imagined it was your lips instead. How warm and soft they’d feel. Your wide eyes looking at him so innocently even as your mouth sucked him off so perfectly. His orgasm came quick, feeling nothing like what he really wanted, but it still ripped a low moan from his throat. He bit the edge of the pillow to muffle it, hips stuttering once then stilling as relief flooded every aching limb.

Breathing hard, Mark wiped a hand across his jaw, suddenly self-conscious. He grabbed tissues, cleaned up, and collapsed on his back, guilt and heat mingling in his chest.

He finally glanced at his phone, about to text an apology, when he noticed the screen was still glowing.

The little green bar at the top still said Call In Progress.

His stomach dropped through the floor.

You were standing frozen in your bathroom, towel clutched under your arms, the phone face-up on your counter where you’d set it in a panic. Mark’s voice echoed from the tiny speaker, followed by a sudden shuffle and a muffled curse. You reached for the screen, intending to end the call, but then you heard it.

The breathy, almost desperate sound of his voice, low and strained, your name a broken whisper under his breath. You went still, barely breathing, cheeks burning as the realization dawned. Oh.

Oh.

You should have ended the call. But you didn’t.

Too enthralled by the idea of sweet, careful, too-polite Mark falling apart on the other end of the line.

You heard a ragged breath, then another.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered.

His voice was low and rough, the kind of tone you’d never heard from him. Needy. Then your name again, this time broken in the middle of a moan.

Your hand flew to your mouth. Oh my god.

He kept going, panting harder now. The way his hips were probably stuttering into his fist, the bed creaking under him—it all played in high-def through your speaker.

“Wanna touch you so bad,” he groaned.

Your entire body was on fire.

When the line finally went quiet, you waited, heart racing. Then, Mark’s face appeared, looking absolutely horrified, eyes wide as he finally realized.

“Oh my god—wait—were you—”

You couldn’t help it as you burst out into nervous laughter, cheeks burning. “Yeah, I…heard all of it.”

His face went so red it was almost purple, both hands flying to cover his eyes. “I’m—I swear I thought I hung up—”

“Don’t worry,” you reassured him with a little smile. “I liked it.”

And with that, you hung up, letting a mortified Mark lose his mind on the other side of the world.

You didn’t directly address that night again, but there was a clear shift in your late night video calls.

They always started the same way: Mark sprawled on his bed, pretending to focus on the story you were telling about work or your idiot neighbor who kept parking in your spot. The truth was that he hadn’t caught a single detail in minutes.

Why? Because you were wearing a tank top that looked like it was designed for a doll, legs pulled up so your shorts barely counted as shorts at all, and every time you stretched, the hem inched just a little higher.

Mark tried. God, he tried to play it cool with a sweet smile, eyes glued to your face like a good boy, but it was a lost cause because your skin was glowing, your hair damp from a late shower. You shifted on the bed, moving closer to the camera. Did you have any idea he was fighting for his life?

“So, anyway, I told my boss that if he wanted to schedule me a third weekend in a row, he’d have to cover my therapy bill.”

Mark blinked, realizing you were waiting for a reply.

“Uh, yeah, absolutely. You should… definitely… do that.”

You grinned. “You didn’t hear a word I said.”

Busted.

Mark coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I—uh, got distracted.”

You leaned in. “By what?”

His cheeks flushed, eyes darting lower, and you just laughed that soft laugh that always made his stomach flip. You knew exactly the effect you had on him and you loved it.

“Nothing. Just… thinking.”

“Tell me.”

“Just stuff.”

“Hmm. Must be important stuff.” You stretched again, and Mark’s ears turned red to the tips.

“Do you ever think about what you’d do if you were here?” you asked suddenly, your voice syrup sweet, teasing but vulnerable too.

Mark’s eyes darkened. He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, all the time.”

“Show me.”

His breath stuttered. “What?”

“Show me what you’d do.”

You bit your lip, letting the camera slip lower so he could see the line of your thigh, your fingers tracing soft circles at your hip.

“Uhm…” he started shakily, “I’d kiss you first,” he murmured quietly, voice strained, words tumbling free before he could reconsider. “Your neck, then your shoulders. Kiss down your chest.”

Your breath caught audibly. Mark could almost see your pulse jumping at your throat.

“And then?” you whispered.

He swallowed, his throat thick with desire. “Then I’d pull that shirt off. Nice and slow.”

You held his gaze, your fingers sliding up to the thin strap of your camisole. “Like this?” you whispered.

You slipped it off your shoulder, the silk gliding down your arm, teasing every inch of skin. Then the other strap. You pulled the shirt up, exposing more of your breasts, your belly, the delicate curve of your waist. Your bare skin glowed in the blue light of the room.

Mark’s breath hitched. He was transfixed, speechless.

“You said you’d kiss down my neck,” you murmured, your own hand tracing lightly from your throat down between your breasts, mimicking where his lips would be, eyes fluttering at your own touch. “Then lower. Every inch, right?”

Mark nodded, helpless. “Yeah. I’d take my time. Make you feel good.”

You shifted, propping the phone so the angle caught your entire body, head to toe, stretched out over the messy sheets. Your hand glided over your chest, circling your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened under your fingers. Mark’s breath came harder, every movement mirrored in his gaze.

That was when he realized he could just tell you his fantasies and you’d follow without question. So he did exactly that.

“Slowly,” he told you, his voice dropping. “Play with your nipples, just like that.”

Your fingers obeyed, pinching and rolling, your hips shifting in response, breathy moans slipping out that went straight to his cock. Mark palmed himself, focused only on you.

“That’s it, baby. Keep going. Tell me how it feels.”

“So good,” you gasped, arching into your own hand, your eyes fluttering as pleasure sparked across your skin slowly.

“Take off your panties. I want to watch you tease yourself.”

You did, trembling a little as your fingers pulled down the thin fabric, your legs parting for him, breath stuttering as you touched yourself just how he’d want.

“Tell me what you feel,” he urged, his voice ragged. “Let me hear you.”

“I’m… wet. So wet, Mark. All for you.” Your hips rocked gently against your hand, every touch performed for him.

He groaned, unable to help it, his own hand working himself inside his sweats. “Good girl. Circle your clit, slowly, just with the tips of your fingers.”

You moaned, your head falling back, thighs tensing under the new sensation. The camera shook, a little unsteady, but still angled perfectly so he could see you spread out, open, desperate for more.

“Go a little faster, baby,” he murmured. “Make yourself feel good for me. Let me see you fall apart.”

You obeyed, your movements turning needy, hips bucking as your pleasure built. “Mark, I—I need you so bad,” you whined, your voice barely holding together.

“You have me,” he promised, rough and loving. “I’m right here. Rub your clit harder. That’s it. Now slide a finger in. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You gasped, doing exactly as he said, your body shuddering. “Oh my god—Mark—”

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Another finger. Stretch yourself for me. God, you look so fucking pretty like this, you have no idea.”

You were a mess now, hips rising off the bed, your hand pumping in and out as your thumb circled your clit, the camera catching everything. Your flushed cheeks, the desperate look in your eyes, the sounds you were making for him.

Mark matched your rhythm, his hand squeezing his cock tighter, his breath coming short. “Don’t stop. I wanna see you cum. I want you to scream my name.”

You were almost there. He could see it in the way your toes curled, your thighs shook, your free hand clutched the sheets. Your eyes found his on the screen, wide and wild.

“Mark—I’m—I’m so close, please—!”

“Let go,” he commanded, his voice rough, eyes burning. “Cum for me. Right now.”

Your body bowed, your mouth falling open in a cry that sounded like his name. He watched you fall apart, every second seared into his memory. It was enough to push him over, his own orgasm crashing through him as he bit back a groan, never looking away from you.

When it was over, you both lay there, spent and shaky, smiling like fools at your screens, still hungry for more.

You broke the silence first, your voice low, sweet, and wrecked. “Same time tomorrow?”

He laughed, warm and breathless, feeling the ache already. “I’ll be there.”

Mark couldn’t stop staring at the coffee in his hands. It wasn’t even the right order—too much sugar, no oat milk—but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, blank-faced in the middle of the rehearsal room, music still thudding from the speakers while everyone else reset for the next take.

“Hyung.” Haechan clapped him on the back. “You good?”

Mark blinked, coming back to himself. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

“You forgot the second count again,” Doyoung muttered, not unkindly, but with that sharp edge he got when he was worried. “You’ve never messed that part up before.”

“I’m fine,” Mark said automatically. “Just tired.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth either.

He was exhausted, but not from practice. It was from the way every night ended with his phone overheating from video calls, his body tight and unsatisfied, his head spinning with flashes of your voice, your fingers, the way you looked when you whispered, “Do you want me to take this off too?”

He had seen everything. He had heard you moan his name, made you come with his voice alone. But he hadn’t felt you. And it was driving him insane.

He couldn’t smell your shampoo, couldn’t taste your skin, couldn’t bury his face in your neck and fall asleep with your heart beating under his hand. He could only imagine it. And imagining wasn’t enough anymore.

“Mark, focus!” Their manager snapped from across the room, already irritated. “We’ve got a full day ahead and you’re drifting.”

Mark nodded tightly. “Sorry, won’t happen again.”

But it would happen again. It kept happening. On stage, during shoots, during meetings—his attention kept slipping. He was caught texting you behind a prop during a promo shoot. He zoned out completely during wardrobe fitting, didn’t even notice when they tried to put him in Johnny’s too big clothes. Taeyong was the first to pull him aside for real.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly in the hallway, concern furrowed between his brows.

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, eyes heavy. “Just… dealing with stuff.”

The leader didn’t press, but his next words were too knowing. “Maybe it’s time you saw her.”

Mark’s breath caught.

He hadn’t said anything about what was troubling him, but Taeyong knew. They all knew. His members had heard the late-night calls through thin hotel walls, seen the way he locked himself away after soundcheck, carrying tension in every muscle. It wasn’t subtle anymore.

Later that night, you received a message from a number you didn’t know.

Hello. I’m from Neo Center at SM Entertainment. I hope it’s okay to reach out. It’s about Mark. He’s not doing great.

You sank onto your bed, adrenaline flooding every limb, heart racing so hard it actually hurt. You were used to texting Mark at ungodly hours, but you had never been contacted by his manager before.

is he… okay?what happened?

The reply was almost instant.

He’s been distracted, keeps zoning out during schedules. He seems exhausted too, but it’s different from his regular self. According to the members, he’s been missing meals as well. Management is worried, the members are worried. Honestly, we were hoping you’d have some advice, or…Is there any chance you could see him soon?

You read that twice, your pulse thudding. The fact that Mark was going through a harsh time and you were too far away to do anything was pushing hard against your heart. But going across the world? It didn’t feel real. Just last month, flying across the ocean for a boy would have sounded insane. But right now, with your own chest feeling hollow from missing him, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

You texted Mark, your fingers flying.

are you okay?i just got a weird message from someone at your company. mark, talk to me.please.

There was no answer. He was probably at practice. You called Jiwon.

She picked up on the first ring. “What’s up?”

“I think I need to go to Korea.” Your voice cracked.

“What? Holy shit!” she breathed, “do you want me to help you look at flights?”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes, please.”

For the next hour, you and Jiwon were hunched over laptops and phone screens, searching for anything—standby tickets, direct flights, last-minute deals. Every option was expensive, inconvenient, barely possible.

But still your hands shook as you clicked purchase on the first flight you could actually afford, your heart leaping and plummeting all at once. You were really doing this.

Jiwon grinned at you. “You’re insane but I’m proud of you.”

You almost laughed, except you were terrified. “I’m not sure if this is brave or just crazy.”

She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s the same thing.”

You checked your phone again, but there was still no answer from Mark.

But it didn’t matter. You were going anyway.

i can get on a plane tomorrow.can someone meet me at the airport?

You texted his manager. The reply was instant and full of gratitude.

Thank you, y/n. We’ll take care of everything.

The alarm blared long before sunrise, and for a panicked second, you couldn’t remember why you had set it so early until your eyes landed on the half-packed suitcase perched at the foot of your bed. Right. Korea. Mark. You bolted upright.

It was ridiculous how fast adrenaline kicked in. You showered on autopilot, tossed two extra outfits into the bag (who knew what you’d be dragged to?), then yanked them back out because the zipper wouldn’t close. You ended up sitting on the lid, knees to chest, wrestling the slider across stubborn teeth.

Jiwon texted a string of blow-kiss emojis and a final “give me updates pls!” before you even left the apartment. She had pledged to babysit and water the already half-dead pothos.

You climbed into the rideshare with a jittery stomach, watching the city streets smear into a watercolor of headlights and neon until the airport lights finally swallowed you whole. The last time you traveled internationally had been with your parents on a winter holiday. Your dad had a color-coded folder for every document and even timed your bathroom breaks. Without his relentless organization this time, the check-in process quickly became a nightmare.

The kiosk spat out your passport on the first scan, the second, the third. Each time making you feel a little more helpless. Without your parents, there was no one to save you but a bleary-eyed agent, who finally waved you over, fixed the problem in twenty seconds, and sent you sprinting for security.

You fumbled every step of TSA. First, you dropped your boarding pass, forgot to remove your laptop, and nearly walked off without your shoes. Somewhere between the metal detector and the end of the conveyor belt, you realized you were actually shaking. Not from fear of flying but from the weight of seeing Mark, touching him, after so long.

At the gate, you collapsed into a plastic chair, clutching your phone. Still no reply from Mark, so to keep from spiraling, you texted his manager.

through security. boarding in 20. i should arrive at around 8 am.

He responded with a thumbs-up and a polite “safe flight, i will meet you at arrivals.”

You got a window seat, a bit cramped, but at least sunrise painted the tarmac a pretty gold. You buckled in, stashed your bag, then stared out at the wing while passengers jostled past. The guy next to you nodded politely, pulled a hoodie over his face, and went comatose. Lucky him.

As the plane taxied, your nerves peaked. You pulled up Mark’s last voice note and let it loop in your earbuds. His voice steadied you better than any deep-breathing app.

The engines roared, the cabin tilted, the city slid away beneath cloud cover. You pressed a palm to the cold window and whispered, “Mark, I’m coming.”

The first hour slipped by in a haze as you made a half-hearted attempt to read a book, but after rereading the same paragraph twice with zero retention, you gave up. Resigned, you tilted your seat back and closed your eyes, somehow managing to drift into a surprisingly comfortable sleep. But somewhere high above the Pacific, turbulence snapped you awake with a sharp jolt. You instinctively clutched the armrest, heart pounding—and then your phone buzzed.

Mark:

just finished rehearsal. sorry i didn’t reply, my phone died. are you awake?miss you like crazy tonight.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you typed back.

keep an eye out for a surprise. i’m closer than you think.

The three little dots flickered on and off, like he was typing, deleting, then typing again.

Mark: what do you mean???

When the captain finally announced descent, you were hit with a wave of relief so intense you almost laughed and cried at the same time.

Customs felt like purgatory as your rusty Korean tripped over the officer’s questions, your sweaty fingertips smudged the scanner, and jet lag scrambled any coherent thought. The queue crept forward by millimeters, long enough for you to imagine fossilizing right there behind a lady and her kid who kept sticking his tongue out at you.

By the time you retrieved your bags, your phone battery blinked red and a fresh wave of panic swelled as you pictured yourself marooned in this cavernous airport with nothing but anxiety for company.

Then a familiar-looking guy waved a sign bearing your name. Recognition clicked when you remembered him as one of the staffers from the last time you saw Mark. “Y/N? I’m Jiwon,” he said, bowing with effortless grace. You bowed back clumsily.

“This way, please. We’re so glad you made it.” Relief flooded through you as you trailed after him.

The car ride was quiet. You stared out the window, trying to rehearse what you’d say—what you’d do—when you finally saw Mark.

You arrived at the SM building, and it looked so much bigger and more imposing than in the pictures. Jiwon guided you through a warren of gray hallways where muffled music thrummed beyond a set of double doors.

“Wait here,” he whispered. “He’ll be out soon.”

Your pulse hammered everywhere at once. You smoothed your shirt, swiped under your eyes, though it didn’t help the puffiness.

Footsteps approached and then a door swung open. Mark burst through, sweat-damp hair plastered to his forehead, water bottle in hand. He was talking with a tech when his eyes met yours.

His mouth fell open and the bottle slipped, clattering to the floor and rolling away unnoticed. He looked at you with wide eyes and trembling breath—which was exactly how you felt, mirrored back at you.

“Y/N?” It was a croak, disbelief cracked right down the middle.

You tried to answer, but your throat folded in on itself. So you nodded, stepped forward, and watched relief crash over his features like sunlight breaking through a storm.

He crossed the space in three strides, hauling you against him. That familiar cologne and a tinge of sweat overwhelmed you; all of him suddenly real and solid after countless pixelated nights.

His voice was a hushed, broken mantra in your hair. “You’re here. You’re here. You’re really here.”

You melted into his arms and said the only thing that mattered.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“This way,” Mark murmured after a few seconds, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

You followed him down a narrow hallway. Staff voices echoed somewhere behind you, but he didn’t slow. He pushed open a door marked STANDBY – DO NOT ENTER and pulled you in behind him, locking it with a shaky breath.

Once inside, he cupped your face with both hands like he needed to confirm you were real. His thumbs brushed beneath your eyes, fingertips pressing into your jaw softly. “You came,” he said again, hoarse. “You’re actually here.”

You nodded, hands slipping under his open jacket, feeling the heat of his skin through the soaked t-shirt. “I was told you needed an intervention.”

“You have no idea,” he admitted, laughing breathlessly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You reached up, brushing damp hair from his forehead. “So you decided to spiral instead of texting back?”

He groaned. “Don’t call me out when I’m this emotionally compromised.”

You smiled, but your chest ached. “You scared me, Mark.”

His eyes softened. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I missed you so much, and the calls weren’t enough anymore. I need you. I need—”

You kissed him before he could finish.

Months of longing folded into one desperate press of lips and hands, his mouth opening under yours instinctively. He exhaled your name into the kiss softly. Your fingers tangled in the back of his shirt, tugging him closer, while his hands slid down to your waist.

He walked you backward until the backs of your knees hit the dressing table, then lifted you effortlessly onto the edge. Your legs parted, wrapping around his hips, and he stepped between them, lips never leaving yours.

“How long do we have?” you asked against his mouth.

“Not long enough,” he murmured, kissing along your jaw, down your neck. “But I don’t care. I just need you close.”

You tilted your head to give him access, fingers raking through the damp strands at his nape. His hands moved under your shirt, palms warm and steady against your ribs. “You kept me sane,” he said softly. “Every night.”

Your throat tightened. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“I know.” He kissed you again, slower this time. “And I’m not letting you go now, either.”

His forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, limbs still tangled. It was quiet here—just the sound of your heartbeats finally in the same time zone.

A knock jolted both of you.

“Mark, two minutes!”

He groaned, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “I have to go.”

You nodded, smoothing his hair, your shirt, anything to make this moment last one second longer. “Go be amazing.”

He lingered by the door. “I’ll see you after?”

“Of course. I’ll be waiting for you.”

He grinned like he was seventeen again, slipped out the door, and left you breathless in a room that still smelled like his skin.

The ride through the city was quieter than you imagined. You expected to have a million things to say, stories to spill, jokes to catch up on, but nerves kept you both a little quiet at first. Mark’s hand found yours in the backseat, his thumb drawing gentle circles over your knuckles. Every now and then, your eyes met and you laughed quietly, overwhelmed by the reality of just being together again.

He pointed out little things as the car moved through Seoul—the café where he liked to write lyrics, the corner store where he got snacks after late practice, the street where he once lost his keys and had to call Haechan at two in the morning. You listened, smiling, letting his voice fill in all the gaps you’d only ever imagined during your calls.

When the car finally pulled up to a nondescript building on a leafy side street, he squeezed your hand once before letting go, glancing around out of habit to check for fans or cameras. Then he waved you through the entrance.

His apartment was nothing like the dorm. It smelled faintly of clean laundry and something familiar you couldn’t name. There were stacks of books on every surface, a guitar leaning against the couch, and a chipped mug with faded writing beside the sink. The windows let in soft city light, making the space feel open and quiet, almost suspended.

“It’s kind of messy,” Mark said, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “I don’t get to stay here much. Sometimes I just come here to nap or write when things are too loud at the dorm.”

You stepped out of your shoes, smiled at him, and shook your head. “It’s perfect. It feels like you.”

He grinned and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over a chair. “You want water? Tea? Ramen? I probably have… one of those weird vitamin drinks left, too.”

You laughed softly. “I just want to sit with you for a minute, if that’s okay.”

Mark nodded and followed you into the living room. You both sank onto the couch, sitting close but not quite tangled up yet, knees bumping together.

He glanced at you sideways. “I kept thinking about what I’d say first, you know? But now that you’re here, it’s like… none of it feels big enough.”

You leaned until your shoulders touched, warmth blooming where you met. “You could quote the back of a cereal box and I’d still be happy.”

Mark’s smile curved. “Do you remember that night we talked until sunrise? I don’t think I ever told you, but that was the night I realized I was falling for you. You were going on about constellations and whatnot, and I just kept thinking that there’s no one else I’d rather listen to at three in the morning.”

For a second, you were flooded by this dizzying joy. You had waited for this, wondered about it in the quiet hours, but nothing prepared you for hearing it out loud.

You took his hand, feeling the comfort of his fingers wrapping around yours. “Can I tell you when I fell for you?” you asked, heart pounding.

Mark blinked, a little startled. “I mean, I always thought it was before we even met. You know, with the whole fan thing.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Back then I was dazzled. I admired you, but it was different. I fell for you the day I realized you remembered everything I ever told you… all the little things no one else cared about. My coffee order, the name of my childhood dog, the fact that Tuesdays freak me out because my dad always traveled on Tuesdays when I was a kid. You’d ask about each one with so much interest. That’s when it hit me that I mattered to you. All the tiny details you could have forgotten but you held on to them. That’s when I knew.”

Mark’s eyes widened, soft with wonder. “I—wow. I thought those details were just… basic boyfriend homework.”

He grew quieter, gaze dropping to his hands. “I was anxious, you know,” he admitted, voice thick with honesty. “That this wouldn’t work… that I was losing you. I kept thinking you’d wake up and realize all this was too much.”

You touched his cheek, your thumb brushing the shadow there. “I was scared too. But I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not ever, if you don’t want me to.”

His expression softened, a smile breaking through as he leaned in and kissed your forehead. “Please stay as long as you want. Move in, for all I care.”

You both laughed. For a few minutes, you just sat there together, talking quietly about nothing and everything—the different times he messed up the choreo, tiny disasters in the kitchen, the way you both missed each other in the strangest, smallest ways.

Eventually, Mark shifted closer, one arm wrapping around your shoulders. He pulled you in until your head was tucked under his chin and his hand was smoothing gentle circles on your back. His lips pressed soft kisses to your hair, your temple, your cheek.

“I missed you,” you whispered, letting yourself sink into the feeling.

He hummed, words warm against your skin. “Missed you too. Every single day.”

You pressed your forehead to his, feeling his breath mingle with yours, utterly certain for the first time that you were standing on equal ground. You tilted your head and found his lips. The kiss started unrushed and tender, just the two of you relearning what it meant to be close again. You moved together easily, his hands slipping up to cradle your face, your fingers twisting in his hair.

The moment stretched, deepening into something needier as you shifted, pressing closer, wanting to memorize every bit of him, not just with words but with touch. When Mark finally pulled away, breath short and eyes shining, you saw everything you’d been missing in his expression.

“Come with me,” he whispered, leading you down the hallway to his bedroom.

Mark’s bedroom was quiet aside from your breathing and the muted hum of the city beyond his window. You sat perched on the edge of his mattress, watching as he approached you slowly, his gaze heavy but gentle. When he settled beside you, his knee brushed yours softly.

His eyes held yours, questioning. “You sure you’re okay?”

You smiled a little, nerves fluttering warmly in your stomach. “Yeah. Just nervous, I guess.”

“Me too,” he whispered with a small laugh, the sound soothing your nerves instantly.

He lifted one hand carefully to your cheek, brushing his thumb across your skin. You leaned into his touch instinctively. Your eyes slipped closed when he kissed you, slow and gentle at first. His lips parted yours gradually, and your breath escaped in a sigh that he swallowed eagerly.

You raised your hands to his hair, threading your fingers gently through the strands at the nape of his neck. Mark leaned into your touch, deepening the kiss just slightly, careful not to rush. He was savoring every second of finally having you here, close enough to touch, close enough to taste.

His hands traveled from your jawline to your shoulders, fingertips leaving a trail of warmth as they skimmed your skin. He guided you gently down onto the bed, following until his body hovered carefully above yours.

Mark pulled back for a moment to study your face. The tenderness in his gaze nearly broke your heart. He ducked his head slowly and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheekbone, then lower, just beneath your ear.

Your breath caught as his lips brushed softly against your throat. He paused to press a slow kiss to your pulse point, lingering as your heartbeat quickened beneath his mouth. His lips parted, and you felt the gentle scrape of his teeth followed by the warmth of his tongue soothing the spot. A soft moan slipped from your lips as you arched your neck further, silently begging for more.

He chuckled quietly against your skin, pleased. The sound vibrated down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Mark continued his slow path along your collarbone, kissing each inch of exposed skin he found. His hands slid up your sides beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing your ribs gently, reverently.

You lifted your arms to help him remove your shirt, feeling the cool air kiss your bare skin. He tossed the fabric aside carefully before leaning back to look at you. The hunger in his eyes made your pulse race and your skin heat under his gaze.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered softly, almost like a confession.

You tugged gently at his shirt in response. He sat back just enough to pull it over his head, letting it join yours on the floor. His skin was warm as you touched him, tracing your fingers down his chest and across his stomach, memorizing the lines and planes you’d only admired through screens before tonight.

Mark dipped down again, his mouth finding the sensitive hollow between your breasts. Your breath hitched softly, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. He placed gentle kisses along the curve of your breast, deliberately avoiding where you needed him most until you arched upward with a quiet plea.

He finally gave in, lips brushing your nipple softly before taking it gently into his mouth. You gasped softly, your back curving off the mattress. Your fingers gripped his hair tighter as he drew careful circles with his tongue, driving you slowly toward blissful frustration.

He repeated this on the other side, taking his time, his touch patient and unrushed. By the time his lips started to drift downward again, you were trembling softly beneath him, needing more.

His fingers slipped carefully beneath your waistband, tugging your remaining clothes down your hips until you kicked them off completely. Mark paused, sitting back to take in the sight of you, completely bare and vulnerable beneath him. The look on his face—adoration mixed with desire—made your cheeks warm and your heart race even faster.

He lowered himself again, placing soft kisses along your stomach, lingering at your hipbones and leaving careful marks with his mouth. Your fingers threaded through his hair as you tried not to squirm impatiently beneath his touch.

“Mark, please,” you whispered, your voice quiet but needy.

He smiled softly against your skin before finally giving you what you were asking for. His mouth was gentle but insistent, lips and tongue moving carefully, building your pleasure slowly. Your hips shifted beneath him as your breath came quicker, louder, his name escaping your lips in soft gasps and whispered pleas.

He took his time, watching every reaction, listening to every sound you made. You finally shuddered softly beneath him, your thighs trembling against his shoulders as pleasure washed through you.

Mark crawled up your body again, kissing you deeply as your breathing slowly calmed. You felt his warmth pressed against you, skin to skin now, and your heart stuttered gently in your chest.

“Still okay?” he asked softly, his lips brushing your forehead.

“More than okay,” you whispered, pulling him closer. “I want you, Mark.”

He reached for a condom quickly, his movements still gentle as he settled back between your legs. Your eyes met again as he lined himself up, slowly easing forward until your breath caught again and your fingers dug into his shoulders.

He moved slowly at first, letting you adjust. Then his hips rocked into yours steadily. Each thrust was deep and careful, pulling you closer to him, his breath warm against your neck as he held you tightly.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper still. Your movements became synchronized, bodies perfectly attuned to each other as you moved toward your shared orgasm.

"So fucking good" he groaned.

Your nails scraped softly down his back, drawing a quiet moan from his throat. He kissed you again as his pace grew faster, more urgent as you both neared the edge. His fingers intertwined with your fingers as he pressed your joined hands into the mattress beside your head.

“Look at me,” he breathed shakily. You did, and the intensity in his gaze finally pushed you over the edge. Your body tightened around him as you whispered his name again, soft and desperate.

He followed moments after, breathing ragged as he clung to you, face pressed into the curve of your neck. For a while afterward neither of you moved, content to remain tangled and breathless, your heartbeats gradually syncing into something slow and peaceful.

Eventually he lifted his head just enough to kiss your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss, fingers brushing his hair away from his face.

“I really love you,” he whispered, lips barely brushing yours.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, and it felt like the simplest truth in the world.

You woke slowly, and you weren’t sure where you were for a moment, but then you felt the weight of Mark’s arm draped across your waist and his breath warm against the back of your neck. 

You shifted carefully, looking over your shoulder. Mark was still asleep, his hair a mess, lips parted in the faintest snore. His face was relaxed in a way you’d never seen before. He looked younger, softer, as if the weight of the world had finally eased for a few hours.

You let yourself watch him for a little while, memorizing the curve of his jaw, the moles on his cheek, the way his fingers flexed gently against your stomach even in sleep. You turned to face him, noses almost touching, and whispered, “Hey. Wake up.”

He mumbled something incoherent, brow creasing as he tightened his hold. “Five more minutes,” he pleaded, voice thick with sleep.

You laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon, you promised me breakfast.”

That got a smile out of him. His eyes blinked open, unfocused at first, but when he saw you he grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

Mark leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips. His hand slid up your back, thumb tracing lazy circles. “You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be, silly?” you murmured, letting your forehead rest against his.

You stayed like that for a while, tangled in sheets, trading gentle kisses and sleepy jokes. Eventually, the rumble of Mark’s stomach broke the spell, and you both started laughing.

“Okay, okay,” he said, untangling himself and rolling out of bed. He padded over to his closet, grabbed a t-shirt, and tossed it to you to wear. You slipped it on and it swallowed you whole.

You watched him move around the kitchen, hair still sticking up, humming quietly as he started coffee and pulled out bread and eggs. You leaned against the counter, grinning at how domestic it all felt. Mark caught your eye and winked.

“What?” he said, brandishing a spatula. “Never seen a master chef at work before?”

“Pretty sure you’re known as the worst enemy of eggs.”

“Hey, that was one time.”

You hopped up onto the counter and stole a piece of toast from his plate. He playfully tried to swat your hand away, but you were faster.

You ate on the kitchen floor, backs against the cabinets, plates balanced on your knees. He kept reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear or to press quick, silly kisses to your shoulder.

When the dishes were rinsed and stacked to dry, Mark stretched, muscles flexing under the thin fabric of his T-shirt.

“Wanna shower?” he asked, his voice still a little husky.

You nodded, happy to follow him down the hall. The bathroom was surprisingly wide, clean white tile, soft towels folded neatly, the scent of his shampoo lingering in the air.

Mark twisted the tap, checking the temperature. He peeled off his shirt first, glancing over his shoulder with a shy grin when he caught you staring. You tugged yours off in response, then stepped under the spray together.

Warm water drummed across your shoulders. Mark’s hands settled at your hips, guiding you under the stream until your hair slicked flat against your neck. He reached for a bottle, squeezed shampoo into his palm, and started working it gently through your hair. His fingers massaged your scalp in slow circles. You closed your eyes, the simple touch turning your knees to jelly.

“Lean back,” he murmured. You did, letting the suds rinse away. When you opened your eyes he was smiling, foam clinging to his own hair like a crooked crown. You laughed and swiped bubbles from his forehead. He tried to retaliate, streaking soap across your nose, so you flicked water at him in defense. The playfulness echoed off tile and glass, louder than it probably should, but neither of you cared.

Mark grabbed body wash next, lathering it between his palms before running his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, across your back. The touch was slow and steady, more patient than the night before. You mirrored him, sliding your soapy palms over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, head tipping back into the spray.

“Turn around,” you whispered. He did, and you trailed suds across his spine, mapping each vertebra with your fingers. You pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder blade and felt him exhale.

The water started to cool, so Mark reached around you to shut it off. Droplets clung to his lashes while he grabbed a towel for you, another for himself. He patted your hair dry, then wrapped the towel around your shoulders like a cloak before tending to his own. There was no rush. The morning belonged to both of you.

Back in the bedroom, the mid-afternoon sunlight sat warm on the sheets. You dropped onto the edge of the mattress, towel still wrapped snug around you. Mark pulled a clean sweatshirt over his head, then rummaged for one of his spare shirts and a pair of soft shorts for you. He tossed them over with a gentle, “Here, these should fit.”

Once dressed, you crawled to the middle of the bed where he was already propped against the headboard, legs stretched out. You curled into his side, damp hair spreading across his shoulder. He threaded his fingers through the strands, combing lazily while the city hummed beyond the window.

“You know,” he said after a while, “I never thought a quiet morning could feel this big.”

You shifted to look at him. “Big how?”

“Big as in… everything I wanted, but simple too.” His thumb brushed your cheek.

You smiled, letting your eyes drift shut. “Simple sounds perfect.”

Mark pressed a slow kiss to your temple. You breathed him in, warmth and clean laundry and his addictive natural scent.

His fingers were combing lazily through your damp hair when he asked, “Do you have a Seoul bucket list?”

You tilted your head up from where it rested against his chest. “Bucket list?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning a little. “Stuff you’ve always wanted to do if you ever came here.”

You thought for a moment. “I mean, I always wanted to walk around the Han river.”

“That’s it?” he said, faking offense. “What kind of tourist are you?”

You laughed. “Fine, I also wanted to visit a traditional palace. And maybe try street food from a cart like in the dramas. Oh, and take one of those cheesy photo booth strips. Happy?”

“That’s better,” he said warmly. “Get dressed. I’ll be your tour guide for the day.”

He took you everywhere.

The first stop was the Han river, just before the sun dipped too low. He rented two bikes, insisting on racing you down the path even though his legs were still sore from rehearsal. At one point, he lost control, swerved into the grass, and tumbled off earning a chorus of startled gasps from a family nearby. After making sure he was okay, you laughed until your sides hurt and promised to never let him live it down.

Next, you stopped at a food cart and got odeng, tteokbokki, and a hotteok that was almost too sweet. Mark bought way too much and insisted you both finish it, grinning through powdered sugar and spice.

He took you to Changdeokgung Palace, where you borrowed hanboks and wandered the quiet paths, giggling when Mark kept bowing to strangers like a royal guard. The afternoon was warm but breezy, the light gentle and soft on your faces. Everything felt impossibly light.

Later, he dragged you into a photo booth in Hongdae. You took one serious shot—both of you trying to look hot—and then the rest were silly. Tongues out, bunny ears, noses squished together, a kiss that took you both by surprise because it felt so natural in that moment.

“I’m keeping all of these,” he said afterward, shoving the prints into his wallet.

You nudged his side. “I better be in there for life.”

He looked at you, something soft passing through his eyes. “Deal.”

As the sun dipped lower, Mark brought you back to the Han river because he insisted the view was better at sunset. He was right. Everything was tinted gold, the water shimmering and cool. He bought two convenience store beers, and you sat on the grass sipping and watching the light change.

“I used to come here when things got too loud at the dorm,” he admitted, watching the horizon. “When we debuted, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. “Does it still feel like that sometimes?”

He nodded. “But less, now that you’re here.”

You stayed there long after the sun had set, city lights flickering on around you, breeze tugging at your clothes, his fingers laced tightly with yours.

This wasn’t the Seoul you had imagined. It was better, because he was showing it to you, because you were seeing it together.

Later that night, Mark led you up a narrow stairwell, fingers still laced with yours. You could see how the city stretched out in all directions from there. Seoul glittering below and the Han river in the distance tracing a silver ribbon through the darkness. 

He looked at you, a little shy even now, and tugged a tiny Bluetooth speaker from his jacket pocket. “Wait here.”

You watched as he set the speaker on the concrete, fiddled with his phone, and then a familiar melody floated up, soft at first, then swelling. His song. Not the demo you’d heard the other night, but the finished version. His voice was clearer, more confident, full of everything he’d been holding back.

Mark stepped closer, pulled a slightly crumpled Polaroid from his wallet and pressed it into your palm. It was your favorite from the photo booth, both of you making ridiculous faces, happiness written all over your features. Scrawled on the back in his messy handwriting We’ll keep adding frames.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze serious and gentle all at once. “I wanted you to hear it first. And I want you here for every song, every stupid photo, all of it. Okay?”

You nodded, tears threatening even though you were smiling. “Okay.”

He took your hand and slow-danced you in a tight circle under moonlight, the music washing over you both. You could barely hear the city anymore, just his voice in your ear, singing a promise he’d already made you a hundred different ways.

When the song faded, Mark leaned his forehead to yours. “I don’t want to lose you. And now, I never will.”

[beegalactica]

hot girl tips to be more productive

With a million things to do, where do we find the time? Sometimes it can be so easy to just procrastinate, not do your work and keep pushing it back till it's too late. Let's not do that anymore.

5-minute rule - start small. If you've been putting something off for a long time, trying to commit 1 hour to it can be challenging. You can't do a marathon without a warm-up first! Could you set a timer for 5 minutes to do that task? After 5 minutes if you want to continue, go for it; if you don't, that's okay, because at least you've done 5 minutes today, which is better than 0. Tomorrow or later in the day, try to challenge yourself to do 7 minutes this time, then 10, then 15, and you will get into that rhythm.

Eliminate distractions - it's all because of that damn phone 🙄 but seriously, tech and social media can have such a tight grip over our productivity and our attention. If you cannot control your usage, set app timers that lock the app after you use it for a certain amount of time or delete the app. I've been using a minimalist phone launcher called 'OLauncher' that removes all my icons and makes me manually have to type and search for the app. In the time it takes me to search for the app, I get to ask myself, "What am I looking for? Do I need to use it for something specific or do I just want to scroll?"

Schedule properly - note down all your commitments and non-negotiables in an app like Google Calendar and make sure all your big events are displayed there. Some people can fall into the habit of planning every second of their day, but I instead delegate a few tasks to each day and give myself any time within the day to complete them, the important thing being not when I do them, but that I do them in the end.

Write to-do lists - now this doesn't just mean in-app lists, which are very useful. Physically write them out. I use a scrap piece of paper and I write: "Today I WILL..." and then list all the things I want to get done. Having it written down helps me commit to it more and the feeling of ticking it is so satisfying.

Know your WHY - Why are you doing this? Why do you want to be more productive? Why do you want to study more? Always look at the bigger picture. Where do you want to be and how will your productivity help you get there?

Celebrate your wins - whether you completed all the things on your to-do list or just one, be proud of it. Some days, you will feel super motivated and fly through all your tasks, and other days you just want to stay in bed and do nothing. Making an effort is the first step to your success.

No matter whether your goal is to complete a project, get good grades, get into the school of your dreams, or just get your work out of the way so you can focus on other things, tackle it little by little. Just 20 minutes every day for a week is better than trying to do 140 minutes worth of work on the last day.

[awrkive]

[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.

you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)

WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)

WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)

NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️

‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE

You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.

Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.

You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.

It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.

When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.

That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.

Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?

You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!

Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.

Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.

"God."

As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.

"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.

Oh my god. You wanted to cry.

You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."

Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.

Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.

You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.

Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.

He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.

Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.

"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"

You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."

He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.

"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.

"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.

Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.

Ugh.

"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.

But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.

You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.

"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.

"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.

You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.

But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.

"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.

Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."

"Hm?"

"Can I suck your dick?"

"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.

"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.

So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.

"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.

"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.

"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.

You shrug. "Yeah, well."

You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.

"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.

"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.

"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.

"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.

"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."

"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.

"So…?"

You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.

"Okay, sure." You shrug.

"Fuck, you're the best."

This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.

You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.

"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.

Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."

You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.

"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.

"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."

You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.

Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.

He stops kissing you.

"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."

Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.

"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.

You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."

"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.

"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."

You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.

But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."

You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.

Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.

Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.

It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.

Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.

"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."

You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.

When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.

As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.

What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.

"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.

"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."

He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.

The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.

"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly

"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."

And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.

"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.

"Good girl."

And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.

"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.

"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.

Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.

Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?

"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."

You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.

"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.

And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.

So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.

When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.

"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.

He only let out a non-committal hum.

"Jungkook."

"Yes, baby?"

"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.

"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.

"Thanks, I guess."

Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.

"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."

You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.

Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."

"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."

Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."

"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.

"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."

You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?

"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"

Oh god, your essay. Right.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.

Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."

That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.

"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."

You think you'll start doing it more, too.

all rights reserved © AWRKIVE , 2023

[edenspoem]

♯┆spacesoldier/spacescientist!ellie: who won't shut up about the hookup between you and her from the night before, and longs to do it again, fully. .ᐟ ★

literally don't question the randomness of this blurb. i run on revelations and sudden visions, and this one was just too hot to let rot. i had to pause a whole request for this thing. and it's a bit rushed, i'll like expand on it some other time i just wanted to return to this trope. anyways, I digress— space scientist ellie, nine month voyage through the cosmos, hookups.. tipsy hookups.

it'd be morningtime in the wake of certain events preceding that memories would slowly begin to prick through the surface— owing to ellie's imperfect subtlety. hills and hills of planetary research, prototype weaponry, instructions on how to properly utilize said prototypes, and coffee-stained reports, dawdled through like the process couldn't get any more boring than it presently is; stress, procrastination, a murk in the thick of your thoughts— literal brainrot. then, the main office zone gate slides open, that little airy whir pulls through your ears, and the person that walks through foments sudden recollection to the promotion party last night. ellie. a new recruit under your stations wing— and the immodest girl who was under your hood many hours ago.

ellie is a damnable pesterer of love; portending that if you've ever been intimate with her, she'll be stuck to you like an idiot's tongue adheres to icicles in wintertime. and tipsy her definitely was after you two had sex: pleading for you to stay a minute longer to cuddle, pressing every work-related praise hot into your nape, mentioning how good you taste out of the blue, so on and so forth. yet now that it is a bright and advantageous morning, and considering that she woke up to the scent of you woven through each fiber of her clothes— she remembers, and she reminds.

ellie's got her legs crossed, arms crossed, leaned against your desk's edge, small butt of hers rudely stamping one of your precious folders; the usual stance she does when you're plying your trade, and she prying for attention. "seriously. thursday, you and me, conference room number twenty-seven, i'll bring wine and fetch dinner from the canteen— please?" an earnest ask, you can sense it in her tone; evenly pitched and soft, softer when she pleads, as always, albeit that the spaceship you dwell in has no actual restaurant so dating environments are centered around some good old D.I.Y and empty meeting rooms. her foot winds out slightly to tap the spokes of your office chair, nudging the focus you so dearly casted to the papers below you, to her instead. which regrettably works; tossing an eye roll as you spin, "dates and recreational dinners don't fit into anyone's schedule here, you know that." it aches to claim that, and aches harder to see her take that hit of an that answer. watching her head drop and her mouth tug into a contemplative shape that wanted to battle it out with excuses, loopholes, promises— but it forms into a grin rather, and decides to be impish. "had time for last night though, didn't we? a great time, actually, n' i wanna see where that.." her voice sinks into the pit of her throat— deep and reserved — and her thumbs start to do that cute fiddly thing at her waist, rolling over each other while the rest of her fingers intwine and overlap, "—takes us?" modifying her words into a delicate, unsure question. a toothy, one-sided smile and sad puppy brows, ugh you could just pinch her cheeks. but of course, she spices up the deal, "hopefully.. back into my room, if my flirting skills aren't total shit." annoyingly rambling as a way to showcase how gravely you've impacted her mind the last twelve or so hours. so grave, you're the only thing her motivation could cling upon to urge her limbs and weasel her sluggish weight out of bed earlier. "please?"

that please chisels a smile into your lips, unfortunately-fortunate, "god, you're so bad, williams." poking fun at her and coasting the wheeled chair away with the back of your knees straightening, rising from your seat with documents in-hand, and agreeance in-mind; written ripe on your lifted cheeks.

"was i?" said indirectly, a cocky implication twisting her cheeks to the same level as yours. it took you— let's say, two, three, awkward seconds of squinting before you understood her crafty-ass joke that took your words a completely different, and lewd direction. stupidly faced too: cocking her brow with the scar slicing through, and cocking one side of her head upwards too, overall just cocky. now you could just squeeze her annoying face until it exploded. figuratively.

"shut up." "okay."

MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . READ THIS . PALESTINE MP . DOC VER

[leonw4nter]

The Cotton Candy Haze Mirrors The Warmth Of Your Gaze

RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

Coming back home from working 4 shifts in a single day for the fifth time this week, you went home looking and feeling like a hot mess– ponytail looking like you got into a fight and lost, eyes sunken in with dark bags underneath them, and pimples breaking out in several spots in your face and back. Despite how much your body craved a deep and restful sleep, you couldn’t give yourself that because grad school, especially medical school, won’t pay its own tuition along with living expenses. Juggling 4 odd jobs, along with working overtime for the sake of getting extra pay is really taking a toll on you: you’ve been cranky lately and you haven’t found proper time to be studying for the upcoming board exams, resorting to bringing all your books and notes in your bags so you’ll have time to read in case you’re free while still at work. Hell, you haven’t even found time to take Leon on dates due to how hectic and overwhelming everything is; you’re certain that the last time you and Leon spent some quality time cuddling together was three months ago. An icky guilt seeps into your weary bones, especially since Leon’s also taking up some jobs on the side to help with your expenses and along with his police academy’s costs but he still manages to make you meals, remind you to drink water, and drive you to wherever you need to be. With a frustrated groan, you fumble through your bag to look for your keys but unfortunately you couldn’t find it and deduced it to your forgetfulness, having left it at the bowl by the door back inside.

“Fucking hell,” you bitterly hiss. You were just about to knock at a neighbor’s door for the spare key you handed them but then you suddenly remembered that you haven’t had the chance to give them an emergency spare key yet since you were procrastinating on it, much to your disadvantage now. Exasperation causes tears to flood your waterline, your vision going blurry as you reach to contact Leon to tell him that you’ve been locked out but you forgo it, thinking that he’s probably had a long day as well and that he doesn't need another thing to be bugging him. You sink down by the door, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt before taking your notes out to start reviewing again since you’re free and waiting for him to come home. A few minutes pass and you hear the pad of footsteps nearing you. Swiftly, you place your notebook back in your bag and sling it over your shoulder, getting up and dusting your legs before seeing Leon’s kind smile beaming down on you like the first few rays of the sunlight on a new day.

“Hey, baby.” you softly mumble as you place a kiss on his cheek.

“Hi,” he says as he pulls you in for a quick hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Got locked out. Forgot to bring the keys. I also didn’t ask the neighbors for the keys since I didn’t give them spares yet,” you quietly admit. You look down at your feet, shame creeping in. “Leon’s had a long day and here you are, worrying him even more. Great job, Y/N. Real girlfriend of the year,” you glumly think to yourself.

“Oh– I forgot to tell you this too but I already gave the spares to the neighbors. You’ve been really busy lately so I decided to do it instead,” he says. “Sorry about that. It just slipped from my mind.”

“No. It’s fine, it really is.” you say with a tired yet genuine smile.

Leon fishes out his key from his backpack before slotting it into the keyhole and unlocking the door, opening it and letting you head in first. You slip out of your work shoes, placing your bag on the couch and collapsing right beside your things with a loud sigh.

“I’m so tired with everything,” you loudly groan as you cover your face with both hands and proceed to groan a little more. Leon walks over to the back of the couch, wrapping his arms from behind you and placing comforting kisses to your hair.

“Tell me what’s going on. I’m just going to sit here and listen,” he softly whispers as he lightly pats your shoulder.

With a deep sigh, you ramble on about everything that’s bothering you. Tears prick your eyes again and there’s more than one occasion to your voice breaking. He stays quiet, arms still wrapped around as he nods to whatever you say, occasionally pressing his lips into your head as you vent about whatever.

“I can’t afford a review center and I don’t have time to study before the board. I’m going to fail, Leon. I won’t end up somewhere,” you finish. You recline back into his touch, feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted from your shoulders. Leon unwraps his arms around you for a bit, walking over to your place on the couch before pulling you in for a more proper hug as he delicately sways you from side to side.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s fine,” he softly mumbles. “You’ve been working and studying so hard. I can see all the effort you’re putting into making sure you reach your dreams and trust me, you will pass the board. You make time to study each day and I can see that you’ve got the drive to succeed, you can do this. Believe in yourself as much as I believe in you and your capabilities, okay?”

You sniffle, hugging back and staying silent for a bit before your shaky and slightly squeaky voice speaks up, the sound slightly muffled since you buried your face into the comforting scent of your boyfriend’s sweatshirt.

“But Leon, there’s more people who're smarter than me and they’re going to pass and I’m not going to. What if I’m not enough?” you say, which causes Leon to pull away from the hug and cup your cheeks in between his big and calloused hands.

“You’re going to pass. You’re smart, you’re my smart girl. There’s no way you’re not going to pass, okay? You will be a licensed nurse and you will reach your dreams. You’re more than enough for this and for me. Don’t let anyone and anything tell you that you’re not enough because you are. More than you’ll ever know.” He finishes with a small kiss to the tip of your nose before moving to your lips. Your own hand climbs up to lightly wrap around his wrists, maintaining comfortable eye contact.

“I’m sorry,” you softly tell him, your words coming out like a whisper.

“For what?” Leon says with a surprised smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”

“Yes I did, Leon.” you bashfully respond. “I haven’t been giving you much attention lately. You also do many things for me like driving me to school and doing my laundry but I don’t find the time to repay you. Just earlier, I got you worried because I was sitting just right outside the door when you already have a lot on your own plate. I’m just adding to that list of things that keeps you up at night and–”

Leon cuts you off by placing his index finger against your lips to shush you before gently moving you to be laying on his lap as he plays with your hair and scratches your scalp in the way he knows you love.

“Nope. I understand that you’ve gotta give a hundred percent of your attention to your studies, especially that your future job concerns human lives. I’m just doing my job by being here for you as your number one fan and making sure you still take care of yourself. I’m busy too but you’re not bothering me or causing me more stress, just the opposite actually. Now just lay on my lap and let me make you feel a lot better, yeah?” he softly says as he continues massaging your head, prompting your eyelids to drape over your eyes as you sigh in satisfaction.

“Unless you wanna have dinner first–”

“No. Let’s just stay like this for a bit.”

He continues to rake his fingers through strands of your hair, his fingers gently scratching your scalp and applying a good amount of pressure to your temples in order to effectively massage them. Most of the time, it’s you who’s giving Leon scratches and massages but it feels great to be at the receiving end of some pampering and loving from your boyfriend. He stops for a little bit, your eyes flying open to see Leon reach over to get a blanket to wrap you in it. Snuggling into the blanket, he continues his soothing ministrations to your head. You swear that if you were a cat and Leon was petting you in this way, you would purr so loud.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You finally finished taking your board exams about a month ago and ever since then, you would eagerly open up your laptop or phone just to look at whether or not you passed. Each time, your fingers would wobble and your palms would sweat to the point you frequently wipe them on your pants so your phone wouldn’t slip out of your grip. Your thoughts would shift between the confidence that you passed since you reviewed and studied and practiced so much and the fear of failure, the icky feeling of being a failure with no direction in life eroding at the happiness you built for yourself but luckily Leon was always there to keep those crusty, self-deprecating tendencies at bay.

“You passed!” Leon practically screeches. With quivering hands he shoves his phone back into his pocket and lunges at you, almost toppling over the tables as he wraps you around in one of the best hugs he’s ever given you.

“Huh? What?” is all you could muster in this state of shock and surprise.

He pulls away and opens up your laptop, going straight to your email and the school portal where they released the list of passers. Sure enough, your last name is listed.

“My girl is going to become a licensed nurse!” he shouts with the proudest, most vibrant smile you’ve ever seen him smile. 

Tears of pure, unadulterated joy spilled from your waterline and flowed down your cheeks, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins whilst also feeling relief at the fact that you passed. Now it’s your turn to lunge at Leon, springing at him and tackling him with your arms tightly enveloped on his larger frame as you jump up and down, toppling over into the couch and hugging him even tighter due to the renewed sizzle of joy running through your person. After a few moments of laying on top of each other and smiling and pressing kisses into each other’s face, you get up and phone friends and family to tell them that you managed to pass the boards. Leon called up his own friends Ethan and Chris to tell them of your results, sending pictures. You hear Leon and his friends giggling on the other side of the room, squealing and giggling like school girls. His face, the tips of his ears, and neck are flushed a vibrant pink the more he talks about how proud he is of his girl. Many times he showed the email and your name on the passers list to his friends, cheers and congratulations being the reception whenever he did, much to his massive delight. Finally, you finish up phoning friends and family and go to Leon, pressing a passionate kiss to his soft baby lips upon his soft baby face. He could feel you grinning against him with each gentle smack; Leon quite never figured out if the beauty of your lips was more of their softness or their association with whatever words you spoke, which always pulled him under a spell he didn’t wish to surface from. You pull away, gazing deeply into eyes painted a soothing blue watercolor hue and not wanting to break this moment of peace, the sensations feeling intimate in a way more than the physical contact of bodies.

“I’m so proud of my girl. My smart, amazing, lovely, sweet girl who will be a nurse soon,” he softly whispers.

“I’m proud of myself too, Leon. Thank you for supporting me, helping me out, and being there for me when I needed you most. I couldn’t have done this without you,” you sincerely thank him.

“You’re a strong independent woman, Y/N. You don’t need anyone to get you somewhere because you carry yourself with an air of confidence and independence but I’m very thankful and lucky you let me in your life.”

“Gosh, Leon. You’re going to make me cry but thank you. I mean it so much. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So… should we eat out? I’ve got some change to spare.”

“It’s on me. I’ve been saving up, I have a surprise for you but it won’t hurt to celebrate my Y/N’s passing.”

You smack his chest playfully, the blond laughing at his little joke.

“You made it sound like I died!”

“Oops. Looks like it might result in a grave misunderstanding.”

“God, let’s just get ready for dinner.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon's POV

I took her out to dinner that night, picking out a nice Korean grill for us to dine in since she enjoys Korean grills so much. Nothing felt more satisfying than seeing all her efforts pay off; all those readings and memorizations giving her the success she rightfully deserves. Right now, I’m seeing her devour her entire plate and in the blink of an eye she’ll get up to get seconds but I don’t mind; seeing her eat good food and indulge makes me feel happy. I feel satisfied, as if I don’t need to eat because her happiness is enough to keep me going for days on end. We’ve both decided to keep working some more jobs to be able to have more savings to add in our accounts so we could afford to move into a better place, probably nearer to Raccoon City since I’m going to be stationed there by next month. She doesn’t know this but I managed to prepare a little surprise for her, which is a 2 day camping get-away; deep in the forest, surrounded by trees, the stars shining above us, and the cold weather. She deserves a little break, we both do, so I planned this. I’m free for the next few days too so this is going to be perfect, I’m grinning just at the thought of it.

“What’re you smiling about?” she asks, but it comes out sounding a little difference since she’s got some food in her mouth.

“Nothing. You look beautiful tonight,” I respond, which isn’t exactly a lie. The buzz of glee just gives her this glow that makes me want to get on my knees and worship her like the goddess she is.

She gets back to eating, doing a little happy dance every now and then. She’s also insisted on feeding me, making sure I finish at least 3 plates because “one can never be too full”, which I appreciate since she just wants me to eat well and I want to have the energy to walk her around town tonight.

After dinner, we took a walk around town. I stopped by at a flower shop, getting her flowers as one of my many little gifts. It feels tempting to tell her about our little camping getaway coming up in a few hours but I want to build up an element of surprise and blissfully catch her off guard. The evening gets cold and a little quiet so I shrug off my jacket, draping it over her shoulders and making sure she’s all warm and toasty.

“You good?” I ask her.

“Yeah. Thanks,” she shyly says as she huddles into my jacket even more. I advised her to bring along a coat since the night could get a little chilly but she refused. As long as the cold won’t bother her and make her feel ill, I don’t really mind because I like seeing her in my clothes and having the smell of her perfume on my things. We take a few more strides, a comfortable settling between us as we walk hand in hand and go wherever our hearts desire. I turn my head and steal a lengthy glance from her; the delicate breeze sends her hair flowing smoothly like a poet’s ink and quill, the fine strands woven from spacetime and starlight as the streetlight’s luminescence bounces off; her body is absolutely perfect, worthy of all praises and respectful admiration with curves that mold in my hands just right but her genuine beauty is from within her heart; God, she’s captivating. She looks at me and I promptly look away, keeping my gaze trained on something else as heat is concentrated on the apples of my cheeks. I can hear a twinkling giggle from her, followed by her fingers pinching a cheek as she giggles even louder.

“You’re too cute, Leon. Gosh, you’re so adorable! You’re like– the most puppy-looking person I’ve ever met and I love that!” she squeals.

“Baby, my cheeks are hurting.” I say in a small voice.

She pulls her fingers away, gently running a hand over where she pinched and gave the spot a peck.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I know you can’t get enough of me.” I quip, followed by a wink.

“You’re not wrong but you’re one cocky person,” she says but a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“I’m your cocky person.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

A day later.

Hours ago, I woke her up at 4:45 AM so we could get ready. Of course, she was a bit disoriented because I didn’t say anything to her but after I told her about my little surprise, she practically launched from the bed and got ready immediately. She slept early last night– slept very soundly too, not a single noise rousing her from sleep. While she slept, I carefully slipped out of bed and packed everything we needed, her things included. It was kind of difficult, having to pack things quietly and move them to the car without causing much thudding but I managed to get it done in 3 hours. After several rounds of double checking everything and making sure there was nothing I left out, I finally made my way back up to our apartment and locked the doors to retire for the night. I could barely sleep due to the rush of giddiness coursing through my person but I forced myself to; after all, I’ll be the driver and it’s going to be irresponsible if I don’t.

Now, she’s sitting in the passenger seat with a blanket draped over her lap as she quietly drinks in the view that speeds right past the window. Everytime I see her and she innocently looks right at me, I feel a little antsy and nervous, having to feel around in my pockets and try to calm myself down. In an hour or two, we’ll get to the spot and then finally set our camp up before we start preparing the ingredients we’ll be using for cooking. The campsite we chose is a little more secluded, right by a lake that’s unfortunately too cold to safely swim in but that doesn’t take away the charm of the entire spot. The release of the board passers coincidentally going before the day of the trip I planned is a perfect coincidence, making this whole thing a celebratory trip for her but I want to add another thing to celebrate later so for now, it’ll stay as another secret.

Finally, I pull up at our spot and park the car. We carry our supplies and set up grills, our tents, and a spot to keep all of our food and drinks and utensils. We finish early so we set up the inside of our tent, placing a comfortable blanket on the floor so the bumpy and rigid ground doesn’t cause any of us back pains the following morning. All afternoon speeds past us as we spend the hours cuddling, Y/N saying something like how the weather is “perfect cuddle weather”. Soon, it’s nighttime and we finish up with everything: dinner, a quick towel bath (since the showering in this weather would get us both sick), so now we’re just sitting by the bonfire and huddling close.

“Thanks, Leon. Thank you for all this. A celebratory dinner was enough but I guess you decided to outdo yourself,” she says as she leans her head on my shoulder.

“This is nothing. Besides, you deserve this,” I say.

We sit in silence for a little bit before she speaks up again.

“We should celebrate some more wins in life, y’know. Even the little things, we should celebrate it one way or another. It doesn’t have to be this grand,” she tells me.

“Yeah. You’re right, we should celebrate wins in life,” I agree. This is it. “You’re a big win in my life, Y/N, and I want to celebrate you everyday.”

My hand slips into my pocket, my fingers feeling the velvet of a tiny box holding my promise of the world and forever to Y/N.

I can’t imagine ever growing old without you, nor do I desire to.

If all goes well, we’ve just given ourselves another reason to be celebrating.

NOTE - Woke up today to see that in a month, I've managed to hit a hundred followers!!!!!!! LET'S GOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Srsly so thankful for everyone who decided to follow me and read my fics, I love you and wish you well. I didn't expect to reach a hundred this early into my writing journey so this is so cool. I also told my mom that I write now and she seems supportive so I'm really happy with that. I guess this fic functions as a hundred-followers-special now :)) That's it and I hope you really enjoyed this fic. Again, thank you for the hundred followers!!!!! I couldn't have done it without you &lt;3!!!

The chain dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[girlyteengirl18]

Summary: Working at Greasy's Diner, you have grown to like Stan, but you're unsure if he feels the same. (reader is well over 20 and female )

It's been a hectic day at the diner since 8 am, but as the lunch rush slows down, in walks Stan Pines, the man you've secretly been crushing on. He's accompanied by two kids, and you can't help but wonder who they are. Putting on your best smile, you greet them, "Well, if it isn't my favorite customer! How's your day going, Stan?"

he instantly smiles “It's been alright toots”

You look at him then at the kids “And who are you two cuties?”

a little girl with braces and The cutest pink sweater said. “I'm Mable and that's my brother Dipper”

The boy next to her had a blue and white hat on and a soft smile

“Well It's nice to meet you, Mable and Dipper, I'm _____” you smile at them “Now what can I get y'all today?”

“All the pancakes you got lady!” Mable exclamations with excitement as she stands on the booth slamming her hand on the table.

You chuckle before writing on your notepad “Alright a stack of pancakes coming up.” glancing at Dipper you smile “What about you? Dipper?”

“ the same as Mable”

You nod, smiling as you write on your notepad “Alright”

You look at stan and grin “stan would you like your regular order? Or is today a special day?”

“I’ll get the same as the kids today, hun”

You look up from your notepad for a split second “hun is a new one” you think as your smile widened

“alright,i’ll have those out to you in a moment” you walk behind the counter and into the kitchen as you start to feel hot “come on _____. why are you letting some man (a fine ass man) get you actin like some love struck teenager” you think as you put the pancakes on the tray before walking out the kitchen and back to there table.

“Alright! Three stacks of pancakes, and I have syrup and butter for you, is there anything else you’d like?

the kids start to eat their pancakes as stan leans towards you

“i’d like your number angelcakes” he wiggles his eyebrows and you with a smirk

you’re stunned for a moment before smirking and leaning in and getting in his face.

“your gonna have to work harder then that for my number pines” you stand with a smile and go set the next table

*30 minutes later*

you’re at the front counter doing whatever waitresses do when stan comes and leans on the table with a sly smirk

“so what i got to do to take you on a date toots?”

you giggle and cross your arms “what do you think you gotta do Mr pins?”

he looks at you with a laugh knowing you’re playing hard to get “let me get your number toots, so we can be a thing” he puts his hand out gesturing to you and himself, as he talks you notice a light blush on his cheeks

You laugh feeling your face get hot. “Oh your cute, alright Stanford ill give you my number, but at a cost”

He grins “what is it? I'll do anything”

“We go on a date this Friday and if you call my ill tell you my address and you can pick me up in that nice car of yours” you say handing him a piece of paper with your number on it .

he stands there stunned for a moment before yelling “ hot damn! you got it toots!”

a/n: aye I did it took me forever because I procrastinated and had work but I wish I would’ve started writing so I could do more I start school next week 🙁 so wish me luck also let me know if its everyone friendly.

[isaidonyourknees]

Heat Waves

Bad batch x reader (platonic/no pairings)

Word count: 640

Prompts: water gun fight & “it’s not what you think”

A/n: these prompts were provided by @summer-of-bad-batch and when I saw the combination I just knew I had to write this. This was a fun way to procrastinate on the (absolutely massive) Tech fic I’m currently working on. Enjoy this little Drabble that is absolutely not proofread at all

The sun beats down on you, the heat suffocating you. You’ve been crouched on the balcony for almost an hour now, muscles starting to go stiff. Sweat drips down your forehead. It was so damn hot, the height of summer. Yet you remained in place, your weapon angled down below you, your finger not moving from the trigger. This shot was too important to miss. Your target is a notorious sniper - he never misses a shot. Therefore, he’s too dangerous to be left aside.

“Target is heading your way,” a deep voice comes through your comm. You started this off on your own, the battle being every man for himself. But as the days had passed you had agreed to a truce and had formed an alliance in order to defeat the greater enemy. What’s that saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Or something like that. Actually, your target has yet to be brought into this battle but you had agreed that it was best to take him out before he could become a threat.

“Copy that.” You adjust slightly and focus intently on the doorway below you. You cannot and will not miss this shot. Too much is at stake. You see the top of your targets head come into view. You hold your breath, preparing to take the shot.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes dart up at the tired voice. Hunter has climbed out on the balcony with you. You move quickly.

“Get down!” You hiss, kicking his legs out from underneath him. You are surprised when Hunter actually falls to the ground, but then again, he wasn’t expecting the attack. He lands with a thud, but you don’t check to see if he’s alright, already returning your focus to your target - who has now disappeared. You swear.

You stand, stretching out your stiff muscles, offering your hand out for Hunter. He accepts it and allows you to pull him back to his feet. Before either of you can say anything, your weapon is yanked out of your hands from above. Looking upwards you find your target standing on the roof, your weapon in his hands.

“Care to explain why you had this aimed at me a minute ago?” Crosshair questions you as he examines the weapon.

“It’s not what you think,” you rush out.

“No? Because I think you were targeting me.” You swallow.

“Not at all!”

“Hey did you get him?” Wrecker calls up at you from the ground. You groan, watching as a menacing smirk stretches across Crosshair’s face.

“That’s going to make this so much more enjoyable,” Crosshair states. You frown, not sure what he means. “Omega!” He calls. You don’t get the chance to protect yourself or the time to dodge. Omega appears at the edge of the roof next to Crosshair and upends a bucket of water onto you and Hunter. You squeal as the cold water splashes over you. You don’t get the chance to recover before Crosshair and Omega are squirting you with water guns, the one you had previously included. Gasping, you climb over the balcony railing.

“Wrecker!” You shout. He’s there instantly, grabbing you and setting you down safely on the ground, leaving Hunter to receive the full force of the attack.

“I don’t want any part of this!” Hunter yells, trying to get Crosshair and Omega to stop spraying him.

“Collateral damage” Crosshair responds, continuing to attack him.

“Quickly! While they’re distracted!” You say, pulling Wrecker with you and starting to run down the street. When you’re finally safe Wrecker turns to you.

“What now? They won!” He complains. You grin wickedly up at him.

“They win the battle. But not the war. Now I think it’s time to get Tech on our side.” Wrecker grins back.

“I like the sound of that!”

[lapisamatize]

𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

After months of unsucceful attempts getting employed, Reader felt burnout and thinks its the end of their future. Keegan comes by accidentally to give them the comfort they need.

Pairings : Keegan P.Russ x GN!Reader

comfort,fluff

💌🦋A/N: I need comfort from work so I wrote this. Didn't check much mistakes so bare me if theres any you find :3

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

On the sofa you sat, blankets covering your back and a pillow on your lap. The light emits from the laptop ever so slowly burning your eyes. You scrolled through your emails, hoping to find that one acceptance letter for a job. But alas there was none.

The only background music you have is muffled rain. You can't help but feel anxious about how ruined your future will be when your work flow is like this. Being a procrastinator, unmotivated at some days, and having the worst mental swings affecting greatly on your progress. Your felt tears drying on your face, maybe you should do something to get the stress off your mind. You sat up, blanket dropped on the couch. Making your way to the kitchen to brew some nice hot coffee.

After a while, a sudden knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. You looked over to the clock on the wall

10:30

At this time really? Who could possibly come here this late. You made your way to the door being slightly annoyed at the ruined silence. “Hey, it's raining hard outside. Mind I stay here for a while kid?" It was Keegan, your old pal. “Can’t you just wait downstairs in the lounge area?" You gave him a irritated look. "I would, but since you're here why cant I come over and say hi instead" He grins. You wouldn’t call him a friend really, more of an acquaintance. You sighed and let him in, "Don't go anywhere you're dripping wet" . You swiftly went over to the bathroom and handed Keegan back a towel to dry him off.

As he dried himself, he sat comfortably on the couch, taking most of the space all to himself. His gaze flickered between the messes on the coffee table and your laptop. "Still no luck applying for a job?" Keegan asked, you sighed nodding, "degree going to waste.." Keegan just chuckled at your words. "Don't say that, I know you will get one sooner or later. You just haven't found the right one" You shrugged at keegans words, while cleaning the mess on the desk “I know.. but the bills say otherwise.”

When you finished cleaning the mess, he scooted over abit to make room for you, patting the empty spot. You suddenly had that surge of sadness again, trying your best not to burst into tears right here and then.

"Wanna watch a show to get off your mind?" ‘This dude just came in randomly interrupting me in the middle of a crying session and decided to watch TV?? Of course my answer is no-’ "Sure, pick any" He goes over to the remote and selects a show to watch.

In the midst of watching the show, somehow you and Keegan were snuggling together. Your head laying beside his side, crossing arms to keep at least some private space. He can't help but notice how you tear up every so often. He wondered how long you have been stressing about work.

A few minutes past, you fell asleep while Keegan was still wide awake. He gently lay you down on the sofa, covering you with a blanket. He stayed by your side till the rain died down. As time passed, the rain started to stop. He went over to you one last time and planted a kiss on your forehead. "I'm proud of you, seeing how far you’ve come" He stood up and made his way out. The moment Keegan turned his back and face towards the door, a small thug on his arm stopped him.

"Mind you, stay here for a while?"

☆═━┈ End ┈━═☆

[longlivetv]

This post is long af so enjoy the TLDR at the start so you can decide if you care enough to read my rambling below the cut

TLDR: There is a reason you don’t want to or can’t do a thing even if you want to make it a priority. Whatever it is may be actually kinda small and seem like a stupid reason, but it exists. And maybe, ultimately, once you think about it, the thing isn’t a priority and that’s fine. Or maybe you have to deprioritize something else because simply don’t have the capacity for any more priorities. But whatever it is, if you can figure out what it is, then you can figure out how to reduce or remove it or reorder your priorities. And if you can do that, making the thing happen becomes easier.

Last week I reblogged a post about how it was life changing to realize that you can have just about anything but you cannot have everything and it’s all about priorities - your neighbor with the incredible garden makes that a priority, the fitness bro on Instagram makes that a priority, the girl in your office with impeccable hair and makeup makes that a priority etc. but probably something else somewhere is getting let go - the gardener might never cook at home and the fitness bro might never watch tv and the fancy office girlie might have a house that is a mess. (that’s extremely paraphrased and viewed through the lens of how I saw it but you get the idea I hope)

One of the things I’ve been working on lately is “what is the barrier to this? why am I avoiding it or why do I hate it or why does it seem too hard?” (the stuff above will be relevant eventually stick with me for a minute) For example I realized that, as dumb as it is, having my toilet cleaner across the bathroom inside a closet was making me procrastinate cleaning the toilet. So now the bottle of cleaner is hidden in the corner behind the toilet and now that barrier is gone.

That post has been living rent free in my mind in combination with barriers. I’ve realized as a human being that my tendency is to trade off fitness and house cleaning. If I have been working out more, there also seems to be a higher level of dog fur on my floor, and if I have been cleaning more I tend not to have worked out in a while. So it appears to me, that these two things are the bottom two of my top priorities list and I generally only have the energy and time for one of them. I care about both of them, and I want to do both of them, but once all the other things above them on the list get done I can’t seem to make both happen.

Having concluded that I cannot make more time or energy just happen, I decided to examine the why of why I can only do one or the other, and I realized that it is the dysfunction of all or nothing thinking (which as a neurodivergent girlie I am extra prone to but anyone can fall into it). If I’m working out I get attached to closing all my stupid apple watch rings (there is a reason I can’t just dump the watch that is long and complicated but just trust me that it solves more problems than it causes at the moment). So if I don’t have time and energy to both clean and work out then I’m not going to close my rings. And so then I do the workout and once again push cleaning off and feel bad about it.

So I thought about it a while and thought “what if my cleaning *was* my workout? what if I told the watch I was working out while I cleaned?” And sure enough there is an “other” workout available that I now start whenever I’m about to clean for more than a hot second. If I’m going to scrub the shower or vacuum all the floors of my house, that’s a workout. By the end of it I’m sweating. No need for either or. And yes, we’ll continue to work on that thought process and why it’s dysfunctional and maybe someday the reason I need the damn apple watch will go away and we can dump it too. But until then, cleaning counts as a workout. And maybe that way, they can share that last tier on my doable priorities list and both get done.

Anyway, my rings are closed and my house is clean.

[beegalactica]

How to be an A* Student in 2025

2025 is the year of THE academic comeback, but it's not just a comeback, it's a full academic GLOW UP. The best part about these tips is that this is not meant to be short-term, this is meant to help you create long-term hot girl habits that will help you year after year after year.

Imagine being a student is like training in the gym: if you want to see long-lasting results, you don't go to the gym for a while and then drop off and get lazy, so why do we see studying as a long-term chore, when it's a long-term privilege?

So many people worldwide dream of having an education, but do we really want to waste it all by scrolling on social media and rotting in bed? I don't think so.

Get organised: Get your notes in order. Turn a subject topic into a cheat sheet or revision booklet. Update your notes after each class. Get your homework out of the way as soon as possible. Create a list of all your topics for each class and rate each topic Red/Orange/Green based on how confident you feel - when it's time to study, start with the red topics.

Create a schedule: If you like things being super organised down to the last detail, try time-blocking and schedule specific time slots to complete your tasks. If you like being more flexible and fluid, set subjects to focus on each day and write a rough to-do list (I set one main task per subject). Make sure you do the subjects that you hate more than you do the ones you like, revising is meant to be uncomfortable, that's how you train your brain and overcome challenges.

Stick to it: Use the Pomodoro technique if you struggle to sit down and start. Start on a 5-minute break to train your brain to slowly stop what you're doing and get started. I would recommend 25/5 repetitions but if you're like me and can deep work for hours with full concentration, do what works best for you but do not end up working for hours without breaks or water. Make sure you take breaks to move around, hydrate and rest your brain and eyes.

Just sit down to start: if you really struggle with procrastination, set up all your work, put your phone away, and just stare at your work - that always gets me to start working because I get bored.

Prioritise long-term gains: Top students focus on studying little and often rather than cramming the night before. This can be 1 hour a day for 5 days prepping for a test vs 5 hours the night before. If you have a period where you don't have any tests right then, but you know you have a long-term exam coming forward, why not spend just 15 minutes to make sure your notes are organised? Always think about the big picture. The topic might not be the most important thing right now, but you know it will be important in the final exam, so if you have some downtime, why not make sure you're confident in it?

Work-life balance: Whilst it's good to be an academic weapon, your social life doesn't have to suffer at the same time. This is why scheduling is so important - it helps you utilise your time efficiently, and limit how much time you waste trying to decide what to study, so you can have more time to spend on things you love. Dedicate 1 hour a day to something you love to do and make sure you do it!

Find what works for you: Experiment with different techniques. Just because one technique works for one subject doesn't mean it will work for another. Just because it works for even just one topic doesn't mean it will work for another. Don't be afraid to switch things up and curate your study habits to suit your tastes. Always remember - the only person it has to make sense for is YOU.

Let me know if you would like more tips or a more in-depth explanation about any of these! I am really passionate not only about education but also about how we can all harness it to become well-rounded people. I have also been a straight A/A* student my whole life so I have many tips to share!

[maddyalexa]

The time is now

So I know a lot of y’all have prob been in the manifestation and/or shifting community for a hot minute, most of us a year or more. (Trust me, I’ve been in the shifting community for 3 years and the Law of Assumption community for 2 years, 3 if you count the horrible yet canon event of Law of Attraction 💀). So it’s been a while and I know how you feel. Don’t worry, you’re not alone. But at one point or another, you need to get out of the victim mindset and own up to why you haven’t manifested your desires, entered the void state, or shifted after a year or more of having a plethora of knowledge at your disposal. I’m applying this to myself as well, so don’t think I’m attacking anyone or being hypocritical. But in all seriousness, when is the last time you really tried? Be honest. And I don’t mean when’s the last time you said affirmations here and there for a few days and didn’t persist or live in the end for a substantial amount of time. Or that time you “thought” about shifting right before you rolled over and went to sleep without setting so much as an intention. But here’s the thing, I’m not telling you to try harder or do more, not in the slightest, because shifting and manifesting and entering the void state is supposed to be simple and easy if you accept that fact and let it. No, the advice and wake up call I’m trying to give is, put in a little more effort, have an INTENTION, and stop being lazy. Like seriously. Aren’t you TIRED???? Aren’t you done living this bullshit life and circumstances and not having your manifestations you dreamed so hard for? Aren’t you tired of not shifting and living in your dream desired reality doing whatever the hell you want?? Aren’t you tired of not waking up in the void state and waking up to the same lifestyle? Aren’t you sick of it? Then do something about it. We are almost done with 2023. 2024 is right around the corner. No way we’re letting YET ANOTHER year pass us by without accomplishing what we’ve been trying to do, and what we came here to do. Enough is enough. You are manifesting your dream life, you are shifting, and you are waking up in the void state or all of the above if you’re like me. I don’t care what you have to do. I’m so tired of y’all not living your dream lives like in what universe do you think that’s okay or acceptable bc it’s not. I know for some of you it’s been so long you don’t see the point and it’s hard to stay disciplined or motivated. So in the comments section anyone that needs to be kicked in gear daily until you get your shit needs to comment and I want all of you to hold yourselves accountable. Someone commented they want to shift to their Hogwarts DR? Okay, remind them every single day to shift and not stop until they do, and let that serve as a reminder to you as well. Ofc if you need to take breaks you always should do that, but if you’re in the right frame of mind to keep going and not stop, do it. The time is now. No more procrastinating. No more “I’ll wake up in the void tomorrow” no bitch DO IT TODAY. Goddamn it. This is your LIFE we’re talking about not a game and you think it’s okay to postpone your desires for another minute??! Hell no. Get off your ass and do what you need to do. Hold yourself accountable to the best of your abilities. Stop complaining about it bc all that time you used to complain could’ve been used to affirm or focus on your shifting or void state self concept, whatever steps it may be to lead you closer to your end goal. I know you’re tired and drained fucking trust me I know how hard the journey has been, but maybe it wouldn’t have been so hard if we had just buckled down from the start and done what we needed to do and figured out what worked best for us and stopped listening to people that are close minded with limiting ass beliefs. So from this point on, starting IMMEDIATELY, you are not going to waste another day. Haven’t tried to shift in over a year and a half like me? (I took a “shifting break” in May 2022💀), or however long it’s been?

Idc, looks like tonight’s your night and every single night after until you fucking shift. Haven’t tried to enter or wake up in the void state for a hot minute? (I stopped in July bc it was low key ruining my mental health the way I was obsessing over it). Oh, cool, looks like you and I are attempting tonight no ifs ands or buts. NONE. Consider this a challenge. It’s called “Get your desires before 2024” if you’re manifesting, “Tap in the void state before 2024” if you’re trying to enter the void state and manifest your dream life that way, or “Reality shift before 2024” if you’re shifting. It’s early November and if we really persist the entire time this is more than achievable. So, the only rules for this is to either in the comments section of this post or in your own separate post you’re going to document your journey from here on out and update once you’ve finally done it. Every single day (unless ofc like I said you need a break or life happens and you for whatever reason can’t, I get it shit happens lol). I’ll even be doing it with you, so stay tuned for that. No more over consuming info you already fucking know. Use all your free time you possible can or just utilize night time wisely if you only do shit before bed. We’re done. We’re getting our shit. And if you don’t participate I will personally come over and beat your ass bc YOU DESERVE TO LIVE YOUR DREAM LIFE not daydream about it, not sit around wising and hoping for it but actually fucking living it. And idc what I have to do to get the message across. So with that being said, do the “challenge” or however you want to view it and I love you and you got this. 💕

[kaiso-woo]

First for Everything

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-> Masterlist

PART 9 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING PART 8 FIRST, it'll be more satisfying.

WC: 3.3k | Synopsis: Hm so... sidong georeo noko oneul bamdo drive~ for the first time? Like it's more so just the foreplay, I don't actually write the swiji anko dallyeo feel the heat inside~ part, and then there's the aftermath.

Notes: Borderline Smut (foreplay-ish?, anyone else hot or is it just me?), Kisses- uh uhm yeah, Fluff, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love... etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

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Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition - NO MENTION IN THIS FIC

PART 9

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

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You smile and pick up your pen once more, scribbling down some carefully chosen words. Beside you, a slight breeze ruffles the curtains, the suns glow warming you as you work. This is perhaps, the worst part about opening up a new Café in Korea: the financing. Café Studio has never been more successful, and at the behest of your boyfriend, you decided to expand – “You should set one up in Korea baby, then you can work in that one and I get to see you all the time.”

Now you were here, in Korea, almost completely set up and ready to go. Chris is with you today, deciding that he'd rather work on a few things in the comfort of your house rather than at JYPE. One of the many benefits of moving to Korea - now he's practically around the corner. His nights as of late have been split fairly evenly between working away at JYPE, hanging out at his dorm, and snuggling away with you at home.

You stretch and turn around in your comfy swivel chair to watch the man in question on the couch. He’s humming quietly as he clicks away on his computer, occasionally pausing with a crinkle of his forehead as he listens to the track through his headphones.

Your head curiously tilts to the side, watching his fingers smoothly type, then pause to click the mouse, and then you watch as he rubs his face, stressed and displeased with his progress. Chris groans, tears his headphones off his head and flops back into the couch dejectedly, a feeble whine of frustration escaping his plush lips.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to stop yourself from nagging him about how he works too hard. He will always work hard, as will you, and he needed to stop procrastinating as well. The downside to him being home with you was that he would prefer to snuggle with you and spend time with you rather than keep up with his work. He’s been yours for a couple of years now, and he takes every opportunity he can to stay by your side, increasingly so, craving your affection.

Chris hears your discontent, and his head snaps up. He drags a hand through his fluffy hair with wide eyes and a questioning smile, “You good?”

He chuckles at your silence and his characteristic smile morphs into a silly grin, happy to simply have your attention. The fluttering warmth that floods through your soul threatens to overflow, and it is with every last piece of self-restraint that you force yourself to nod, instead of abandoning your work and joining him for a cuddle on the couch.

For a minute, the both of you just stare at each other. You can see the amused glimmer in his dark eyes distinctly, and it only intensifies when he raises his eyebrows and slides his computer off his lap onto the couch. He pushes himself up and slowly walks over to you, stopping in front of your chair so you have to crane your neck slightly to look up at him properly. You remain silent as he stares down at you, analysing you perhaps.

He grabs the back of your chair and swivels you around so you’re facing your paper work again abruptly. “Go back to your work,” Chris laughs, cheekily ruffling your hair and messing it up thoroughly. You huff and try to spin around again, but he’s preventing you from doing so, his strong hands vice-like on the chair.

“You’re supposed to be my boyfriend. Not my Dad. Quit telling me what to do,” you whine, knowing full well that he has every right to tell you what to do. He laughs again, and the genuine sound sends chills sprinting up your spine. “I’ll tell Jack to message you then. He’ll tell you to get back to work.” Chris snickers, and you freeze, slowly lowering your pen onto the desk.

“Jack… isn’t my Dad either,” you murmur, and Chris leans in, wrapping his arms around your neck loosely and placing his chin on your head. “He’s my Dad, so that means he’s yours too. Well… at least soon he will be,” you can hear his smile as he says this, and your brain is abruptly encased in ice. He really needs to stop joking about this - my fucking god.

“You… smooth… fucker…” you mumble, trying to cover up your sudden incapability to function as a human being. He's basically proposed... for the hundredth time... Chris spins you around to face him, one of his arms shifting to push up against the desk behind you so he’s leaning over you. Your lungs stop working as he draws even closer, his breath tickling your ear. “Glad to know you think I’d be a smooth fucker,” he whispers seductively, and your heart must've gotten stuck in your throat, because you're incapable of speaking.

Chris moves so that his nose brushes yours gently, his eyes piercing your own, mischievous at the sight of the blush spreading from your cheeks to your ears. “Maybe later we can find out if I’m as smooth as you think,” he continues, before softly kissing you, the plus of his lips moulding comfortably with yours, a lingering taste of pineapple letting you know he's recently been drinking the juice.

A/N: I am fed up. The amount of time's I've gone to punch something is innumerable. Someone be this smooth with me, come on. 

Your mouth falls open as he moves away, back to his computer and his comfy couch, leaving the air around you sizzling with tense energy. The vacant spot in front of you, where he just was, feels awfully empty.

You’d think that you’d be used to this kind of thing by now, what with how often he's an atrocious tease, but you aren’t. You’ll never get used to his flirty ass.

Chris continues to work as if nothing happened, but after a minute, he realises you’re still sitting there, dumbstruck, and he slowly inhales... and exhales... his eyes fluttering closed. He clears his throat nervously, and your breath hitches in your throat when he chews his bottom lip, contemplating something. “Go back to your work babe. Please,” he sighs, with his eyes still closed. You shake yourself awake and order yourself to be a functioning fucking human being. Control yourself.

You fold your arms and cross one leg over the other, an eyebrow arching in defiance. “It is literally your fault that I stopped working,” you scowl, and his eyes flash open, the sudden intensity in his gaze causing you to jerk back in surprise. He stands up again and moves swiftly back towards you. “Up,” he commands. “Sorry, what?” “Get up. Out of the chair.”

You hesitantly stand up and step to the side, snorting in annoyance when Chris sits down in your recently vacated chair. “C’mere,” he murmurs, a determined gleam in his eyes. Your eyebrows quirk again, “I’m already here.” He offers a coy smile and his eyes narrow, “I mean… sit down.” (A/N: Be humble...)

“On… the floor?” You think you know where he’s going with this, and you’re not entirely sure you’re in the right head space to be sitting in his lap at the moment. “You really are stubborn,” he grins, shaking his head. You yelp as he promptly leans over and grabs you by the waist, pulling you towards him and forcing you to sit snugly in his lap. He rearranges himself so you’re sitting between his legs, and you squirm, trying to get comfortable. Chris inhales sharply and tenses around you. “Stop-” he chokes, hands tightening briefly around your waist, “mmhm- don’t do that.”

You freeze, and naturally, your head disappears straight into the gutter at his stuttered breathing. “Sorry- I didn’t mean to-” you begin, but he interrupts you, his thumbs caressing your hips gently. “Go on. Write. I’ll edit and help you along the way,” he mumbles, and you laugh, your embarrassment fading quickly. “What would you know about business reports?”

“Come on darling. I practically own Stray Kids, I think I know quite a bit,” he answers simply, a slight tone of exhaustion lingering in the air. You don’t know what to say in response to that, and even if 'practically owning Stray Kids' has anything to do with business reports, so instead you try to actually focus on your work. After a couple of minutes of blankly staring and writing down one word (‘and’), you sigh in defeat.

“How in the hell am I supposed to focus when you’re hugging me, and I’m sitting in your lap?” You grumble, but Chris just shrugs. “I dunno. Figure it out baby ‘cause I don’t plan on going anywhere.” You scowl at his response and rub your forehead in frustration, then decide to give up completely. Your pen drops to the desk with a clatter, and you flop back to rest your head on Chris’ shoulder, curling up slightly and burying your nose in the crook of his neck.

You inhale his vanilla under toned scent and sigh in content. His arms snake around your waist to hug you properly, and you hear him moan slightly as your breath tickles his neck, tiny little goosebumps on his skin blurred in your vision. After a small smile, you press a chaste kiss to his neck, and his exhale is stuttered again, his chest falling in an awkwardly disjointed manner. 

Chris’ hands unexpectedly slip under your sweater, and you shiver at the sudden contact. He begins to rub absent circles on your skin, and you hum appreciatively. “Feels nice…” you whisper and Chris releases another shuddering breath. “Baby, I think- I think it might be best if… if…” he begins, his voice quieter than usual. You raise your head and try to read his expression; distracted… and conflicted.

His soothing hand movements on your hip cease and he grips your sweater instead. He gulps and momentarily breaks eye contact, licking his lips nervously, before he stares at you again. His breathing is extremely controlled, and as you move to try and get off his lap his eyes flutter shut with a sharp intake of breath. Experimentally, you wriggle in his lap again, eyeing his expression. Chris throws his head back, something close to a whine escaping from his mouth, the sound shooting straight through to your core. "If you keep-" he begins, his eyes still screwed shut tightly, "If you keep-"

“Am I not allowed to move?” You ask curiously as he rubs his face vigorously. Oh you know you're not supposed to move. “Ah… no. No you can movuhmmmhm-" his sentence is cut short as you shift again, and he tilts his head up to stare at you, his gaze piercing, "You know exactly what you're fucking doing, don't you?"

A small smile cracks onto his face, his eyes shimmering, and your stomach erupts into butterflies at the sight. “Alright, well I’m getting kind of hot I might change…” you grin nervously, then hop off him as quickly as you can. You leave him on the spinning chair and walk over to your walk-in-wardrobe. As you do so, you hear Chris mumble something along the lines of “I’ll just… read over what you’ve done so far.”

As soon as you enter the confines of your wardrobe you sink down to the floor, your hands clutching your head, in a bit of a panic. What the fuck? Why are you- your brain is filled with way too many unholy thoughts all at once and you quietly scream. Stop. BUT HIS LAUGH- AND HIS HANDS- AND HIS LITTLE WHINE- AND HIS MOAN- AGHIOEHGOIEHOGIAEETIOASD! (A/N: Just like me fr). You take a deep breath and try to control your thoughts… and your hormones. 

Once you feel calm enough you stand up and take your time to pick out a shirt and some shorts. You quickly slip into your shorts, remove your sweater and are reaching for your shirt when you hear the flutter of falling paper behind you. You swivel around and become a statue of Medusa’s when you notice Chris standing there; your pen hanging limply from his right hand, your paper works scattered sadly on the floor, his eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. “Fuck? I am so sorry-”

It’s not like you haven’t seen each other without a shirt on before, you’ve been together for a while already.

“Chris, it’s okay, it’s nothing you haven’t-” “You’re really not making this any easier for me,” he grumbles, and then suddenly he’s pressed up against you, pinning you to the wall with your hands above your head, his lips smashing into yours fiercely. He pulls away swiftly however, and your breaths mingle as he tilts his head, his eyes trained to your lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers again, and your heart threatens to implode as one of his hands lowers to cup your face, the other tightening around your wrists above your head. Carefully, his thumb caresses your bottom lip, pulling it downwards slightly, before he leans back in.

This time… when he presses his lips to yours, something snaps.

Chris pulls you closer, carefully sliding his knee between your thighs, shoving it harshly right up against your clothed heat, which throbs almost painfully thanks to the pressure and friction. Once the necessity for oxygen becomes too overwhelming, you separate, panting. Chris turns away from you and runs his hands through his hair again in a desperate panic.  “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," he croaks, inhaling sharply. 

Something is possessing you right now. Cause it’s not you. Surely. You step forwards and spin him around, snatching at his shirt to pull him in for more. Your body is moving on its own. You press yourself so close to him that Chris stumbles back slightly, but welcomes your hungry kisses all the same, just as eager, if not more so, his hands running rampant on your body.

You gasp as his hands shift to under your butt to hoist you up, squeezing it momentarily, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You wrap your legs around his waist, hand tangling swiftly into his hair, and he staggers out of your wardrobe, never breaking the kiss. His teeth graze your bottom lip, and you tug at his hair slightly in response, lost in the moment.

Chris abandons your lips to attack your neck, still stumbling around almost deliriously, trying to navigate his way across the bedroom. You moan and tilt your head slightly, trying to give him more access. "I love you," Chris breathes against your skin, before returning to suck on a particularly sensitive spot, "God I fucking love you."

Finally, you both topple onto your bed, the action causing your eyes to snap open as your back hits the silky covers. You’re met with two brown eyes staring down at you, two eyes dark with a foreign emotion. You press a hand to your chest, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart as Chris breathes heavily.

He watches you absently, then returns to kissing a hot trail on your neck and brushes your hair out the way as he moves slightly lower. You groan when he kisses a particularly sensitive area back on your neck, and Chris pauses, his hot breath fanning out on your skin. His eyes are trained on the same spot, and after a second, he leans back down to slowly kiss it, his delight evident in his sinful grin when his actions elicit the same sound from you.

Chris focuses his attention right there, his tongue swiping, teeth grazing, kisses digging deeper, harsher, sucking slightly, until there's a beautiful mark left behind. You're an absolute squirming mess below him.

Your hands shoot up to his head, burying them deep into his fluffy hair as his tongue swipes on your burning skin. “Chris…” you groan, as he takes a moment to admire the love bite he’s successfully left on your neck. Abruptly, he grabs your hand and places it on his chest. Your eyes widen as you feel his heartbeat, thumping just as fast as yours.

“Can… you feel… what you’re doing to me?” He mumbles, pulling your hand up to his mouth to kiss your fingertips softly. He lowers himself to kiss along your collarbones, then skips your bra and down to your stomach. 

A/N: I can’t even fucking describe this shit right now. Where are my delulu pills?

A whimper escapes your mouth and your legs tighten around him, desperate for some friction. “Look… at what… you’re doing… to me…” Chris growls, each phrase punctuated by ravenous kisses that send a sparks running through you. Suddenly he collapses onto you, his head resting on your stomach, and you yelp in surprise. “Fucking hell. Baby, I cannot do this…” he whispers, his voice shaking. 

You reach down to softly play with his hair, thinking. “You can’t do what?” You eventually ask and his head snaps up. “Do you really want me to answer that?” He whispers, his eyes clouded. Slowly, you nod and Chris pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, a mild glare on his face. The air is squished out of your gut as Chris presses on your stomach to move back up to your face, and his nose is brushes yours softly, your lips tingling as his breath falls back onto them.

He continues to whisper, eyeing your lips again, “Are you really sure… you want me to answer that?” He repeats and you gulp. “Yes-?” You answer but you’re immediately cut off by him closing the gap between your lips and kissing you hungrily. 

“I cannot do this-” he kisses your jaw, “because I’m struggling to resist-” he kisses your lips, “the urge…” he moves down to your neck and kisses the already marked area. You hiss as he finishes his sentence, “to fuck you senseless…”. 

A moan escapes you after Chris’ tongue flicks your lips. He’s moving from one place to the next so quickly it’s driving you positively insane. “Christ… topher…” you groan as he deepens the kiss, absolutely devouring you. You tug at his hair desperately and he chuckles, but his low chuckle turns into a shocking laugh, and he rolls off you, now lying beside you, staring angrily at the ceiling.

“Fuck I cannot do this!” He yells, his voice painfully cracking, half crying half laughing. You’re in a bit of a daze, your mind replaying the same scene over and over again. He wants to… to… 

Chris releases an exasperated sigh and sits down on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. You hesitate, then make up your mind and turn your head to watch him.

“Why are you resisting?” You bite your lip anxiously when Chris completely freezes. You can’t even see him breathing. Then he responds, his voice muffled due to him refusing to remove his hands from his face, “My head says stop but my body clearly wants you.” 

You sigh and crawl over to him, then grab a fistful of his hoodie and pull him back onto the bed. Now you’re looking at an upside-down version of Chris. You stare at each other hard, and you brush his hair away and kiss his forehead lovingly.

“Maybe you should ignore your head…” you whisper with a smile. “I don’t want- you said you were scared- what?” “I... want you too… I'm... I'm not scared anymore…” you reassure him and it’s amazing how quickly his mood switches up. In quick succession, he flips himself the right way and pushes you down onto your back. “Say that again,” he demands. “I'm not scared anymore?” You respond. “No… the other one… say it again…”  “I... want you too…?” 

His eyes flutter closed, and he takes a deep breath, “Are you… sure about this?” he quietly asks, hands scrunching the bed sheets anxiously. You smile softly at him and lean up to kiss his cheek gently, "I'm sure."

Chris' eyes flicker open hesitantly, and as he exhales, he dotingly tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "I'll look after you I promise. I'll be careful." "I know you will." He hesitates, his eyes searching yours desperately, "Fuck, baby I want you so badly but are you sure?"

You don't answer.

Instead, you pull him down and kiss him, your hands travelling along his chest to grab the hem of his hoodie. You pull it up and help him remove it. “You were right… it looks like I will find out if you’re a smooth fucker…” you grin, and Chris rolls his eyes. “I can be more than smooth, but that's for another time.”

--

You groan and try to roll over, but your face scrunches up when you realise that you can’t. For a moment you’re confused – then you notice the arms wrapped around you, preventing you from moving, and smile. Chris looks incredibly peaceful when he’s sleeping. You’d be content to just listen to his breathing for the entire day if given the opportunity.

Your mind begins to work through the haze of sleep, and your eyes widen, face heating up in seconds, remembering the events of that morning. You gasp, but quickly cover your mouth, not wanting to wake your boyfriend. It didn’t work. Chris grumbles and hugs you tighter, one of his eyes cracking open. “Good afternoon sunshine…” he mumbles, yawning.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…” you respond, guilt evident in your voice.

“Did you have a good nap, hmm…?” He asks, staring at you with a smirk on his face. “What- yes?” “Oh I bet it was good. Especially after-” You cover his mouth to stop him from speaking and wriggle out of his grip. Then you proceed to tumble out of the bed and stand up gingerly, planning on making your way to your wardrobe, again, for some fresh clothes. 

You take a step and wince slightly – it hurts a bit. You can walk though, well- you can until Chris appears out of nowhere and scoops you up bridal style. “Are you okay? Was I too rough?” He asks worriedly, his eyes wide and panicked.

“No- no you weren't, I'm okay!” Is your instant reply, and a sly smirk emerges on Chris’ face, which of course, makes your heart seize. “I guess that means it's time for round two then baby,” he chuckles, dumping you back on the bed. You stare at him in astonishment. “Let me ruin you this time, sweetheart?"

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-> PART 10 -> Masterlist

A/N: Well then.

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read! - Kaisowoo

[ashsimpsalot]

thank you for doing god's work and blessing us with wonderful monkey man fics 🫡

if youre taking requests, id like to make one with a blackwidow!reader, she's undercover at the hotel as well and was confused when someone made an attempt at rana singh then tracks kid down and even helps him train. they go through the fight together and after that they start a new life in the end 🫶

sorry if its too specific, feel free to make any changes however you like and tysm in advance if you decide to do this 🩷✨️

The lack of kid x reader content is killing me. I'm glad you liked my fics though, thank you for reading! THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVER ERM

I've never written action before, hopefully I do this fic justice. Im sorry if it just seem like I'm yapping😭

Hands Up (Kid X Blackwidow!Reader)

Holy Fuck!

You've been undercover in India for almost 2 months and you didn't even know autos could drift like that!

You're hot on their trail, abusing the throttle to its limit.

Whoever this guy is, he's either extremely ballsy, or extremely stupid to go after Rana Singh like that.

The helmet didn't help with the shooting sounds at all, you couldn't take it anymore, drifting away and avoiding to be near but near enough that you could see where the guy was going. Your already ringing ears would go deaf if you trailed them any closer.

Shit he went into an alleyway.

Your eyes trailed around the road.

Bingo

Another alley that links to his spot.

Maybe it took you 5 minutes extra but once you got there, the auto was already flipped onto its side, empty. The policemen were chasing someone who's running on foot.

Running on the fucking roof!

Limping.

You twisted the throttle of the motorbike to chase after him but he ended up falling onto the road after an officer shot his leg

You hit the brakes. Tires screeching loud at how sudden the brake was. Stopping the bike right in front of him.

"get the fuck on! Hurry!"

He looked confused but decided to question it later and hopped on.

You zoomed away from the place, going into an alley an coming out the other, making sure no one sees where you guys were headed.

His grip on your waist loosens.

Oh no he's losing blood.

"man don't pass out on me yet!" you yelled, making sure he heard but his answer was mumbling and gibberish. Before he could limp off of the bike, you reached back and placed one hand on his back.

You sighed and accepted your fate, your arms going to hurt from the weird position but at least he won't fall off.

You zoomed right to the temple, dragging this tall building of a man in with you all by yourself.

You called on Alpha, she almost chuckle at how you struggle to bring the man in.

"I told you, child, if you need help, ask for it," she said like a mother nagging her child while helping you steady the man.

"I am asking for help, help this guy," you reply mumbling like a teenager after being scolded, she let's out a huff and guided the man onto the makeshift bed.

"wait outside, take care of your own wounds, hm? There's food in the kitchen, eat up," she said softly then closes the curtain.

A pang in your heart, she's like a mother to all these people here and to you too. You didn't expect to step foot on the motherland and gain an actual mother figure.

When you hear the man screaming in agony you knew exactly what she was doing as you yourself was on that makeshift bed a month ago.

You chuckled and went to the kitchen.

After indulging in a plate of naan and a cup of coffee, you sighed and lean against the chair, closing your eyes, floating in a food coma. finally taking the well needed rest you've been procrastinating.

That is until a soft pinch on your shoulder startle you.

"I told you to tend to your wounds first, child," Alpha scolded, dragging a chair in front of you with the small medical box in her hands.

25 years of training, nothing could get past you.... except for Alpha. For some reason she has a way to sneak up on you.

You gave a silly smile, letting her tend to your light wounds. "I was hungry," she hummed dismissively.

"the man is alright, he'll need a few hours before he regain consciousness. Who is he?" she asked, eyes still pinned onto the cut on your arm.

"he tried to go after Rana Singh, all by himself, in Queenie's hotel with a small gun. I think he could've succeeded but not sure what made him miss the shot," you said simply.

"why did you help him?"

"he's stupid but I saw how he fought, he's got potential,"

Alpha hums and packs the medical box. "and maybe because he has a pretty face," you joked while grinning at her. She chuckled and shook her head and stood up.

"your bed roll is still unused," she said, some guilt creeps up on you. You left, after staying with them for a month, to go after Queenie.

"thank you,"

You went to take a little nap.

When you open your eyes again, you heard chaotic voices of confusion. The guy had woken up.

"hey, clam down,"

"you? You're... The chef?" he's more confused than ever. You nodded. "look, you're still recovering, take it easy and sit down. I'll explain everything."

He seemed reluctant but sat down on the nearest branch anyway.

"who..are you?" he asked, eyes pinning on his fidgetung hands.

You started with your name and he nodded. Taking a few seconds, wondering where to start.

"I'm a blackwidow, well, was a Blackwidow, after the fall of the red room most widows just work with each other trying to free others who were injected with mind controlling serum."

Blackwidow? His mind flashed to pictures of the only famous widow, Natasha Romanoff, the fucking avenger? He looked confused but try to take in what you said.

"but I didn't do that. I came for revenge."

"revenge? On whom?" he looked up at you, you knew that look in his eyes, you see them in your own everyday, the thirst for revenge, sunk in a sea of violence.

"They ship kids, the red room, they take us in very very young." you started with a heavy voice, you've told this story multiple times but fuck, knowing you're so near to where it happened is just too much.

"and where do you get kids, untraced, unwanted, unregistered kids?" your eyes lifted to look at him, as if quizzing him. He shook his head as a sign that he never thought about that.

"human trafficking rings, prostitution rings and Queenie just happen to have the biggest rings in whole of fucking Asia,"

He furrowed his eyebrows. He's known a fair share of prostitute, most of them keep their kids, at least his mother kept him, but his mother did left to live somewhere else.

"Queenie has a reportation to uphold, she can't have legal cases against her, she can't have her girls die from multiple abortion, the kids will just be threads someone could pull and find out the truth so she cuts em. Take all the kids and ship them for the red room. She got a ton of money for that too,"

He looked horrified, he didn't even know that was a thing people fucking do.

"I want to put a stop to this, maybe there red room is gone but she's still doing something with those kids,"

He looked up at you and nodded, he understood.

"what about you? Going after Rana Singh by yourself like that, in his own slice of heaven,"

He sighed then stared off into the distance, he's eyeing the kids who were giggling and chasing each other in the middle of the temple.

A sense of innocence both of you lost a long time ago.

"he killed my mother," you sucked in a quick breath. Mother, you're both avenging your mothers then. Though he's avenging a woman he knew and you don't event know the name of yours.

"then we better get ready. I saw you, when you were fighting. You fight a lot?"

"at the ring. For money" you nodded, you know of the tiger temple, an excuse to gamble, honestly.

"I realise you let your left hand go idle for too long, we'll work on that," you simply said and stood up.

"though for now, you should rest, I'm going for a shower, Alpha will bag my ears off if she realise I took a nap before showering."

You offered him a smile, half joking.

The next few weeks are dedicated to teaching him, reminding him not to neglect his left hand. Another habit you see is that he sucks in and hold his breath in while throwing a punch, leaving his breathing a little erratic after a long fight.

"there you go, Kid!" you yelled with a smile after he basically torn the makeshift punching bag.

He walked towards you. "was that good?"

You nodded though a silly smile creeped on your lips. "yeah, had the whole temple screaming, I bet it was because your lack of clothing," you teased. Kid smiled, a genuine smile, and thanked you.

One night he went missing, two nights before diwali, a bag of money was hung on one of the branches with a note with his writing on it.

You went to find him and when you did he looked apologetic.

"I told you, we're doing this together," you said, hitting him with a slap on his stupid face. He turned back to look at you. "I'm sorry I... I had to fight in that ring alone."

His voice soft but fuck, his lips looks softer, maybe he saw that desire in your eyes because he had them in his own. He pulled your arms softly, leaning down to kiss you on your lips.

"we stick together, that's the plan," you breathed softly after he pulled away. Kid, being himself, didn't say anything and nodded.

He didn't think he could've kept that promise but he did.

The night of diwali, you dragged him out of the burning hotel, he had passed out after killing Baba Shakti.

He woke up to the same scene he did almost 2 months ago but this time with familiar faces and a heavier feel in his chest, relief. Relief that he's alive, that's new for him.

"you're awake," you said. He looked dreamy, that's also new.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, worried if he had lost too much blood or hit his head too hard somewhere. Your hands carefully trace his face, head even body to inspect if Alpha had missed a wound somewhere.

He shook his head, toon your wandering hands in his and smiled.

Fuck, he's finally home.

With the woman he loves, a sanctuary that might need fixing but filled with pure love, a worried woman that plays a role his mother played years ago.

He had a reason to live.

"I love you," Kid whispered, he trued to think of the last time he's said that but no memory came up.

Your eyes soften and that day he fell deeper.

"I love you too"

A few years later he'd tell the kids that laid on his chest, with his hair and your eyes, a smile on his face, proudly tracing the memory of how the wild monkey finally find his peace with a spider.

The little girl laughed. "amma'a a spider!" she would repeat that again and again as if that's the funniest thing her appa ever said, her brother chasing after her, suddenly it's a game of tag.

"don't run!" Alpha would scold after the two almost bumping into her, scared that she'll accidentally spill the drink she's taken for herself.

Kid laughed.

His life is perfect.

It's perfect.

[thebluntstudent]

FIVE TIPS FOR STUDYING WHEN ILL OR OTHERWISE INCONVENIENCED...

disclaimer: when at all possible, you should always prioritise physical and mental wellbeing over a good grade. If you are seriously ill to the point where it is heavily impeding your capacity to study, you are not fit to take an exam, or write an essay, and I hope your educational institute has measures for exceptional circumstances/extensions/deferrals to allow you to do so! Alas, it isn't always possible to do the ideal thing in life, and that is where my experience comes into play.

°•☆•°

Sometimes you find yourself in a crappy predicament a couple weeks before an essay is due, or an exam is scheduled, and you find yourself slipping further away from the stacl of textbooks on your desk, and closer to the comforts of your bed and the rest you really wish you had the time to make the most of.

Right now, my hormones are currently out of whack in a way that could meaning anything from (the most likely cause) PCOS to perimenopause at 22 to plenty of other less likely possibilities I'd rather not dwell on. This means that sitting up for more than 5-10 minutes in the same position sends my abdomen into spasms and sharp pains, and generally existing hour to hour is a painful, emotional, hot-flush filled experience.

That being said, I have an exam in a few days, and since deferral is not an option for me (this is my last attempt, I can't take any more time off of uni, my last attempt was last year during a period of several losses that occurred on an interruption year I had taken due to burn-out and unresolved trauma sliding into my life- you get where I'm going with the 'sometimes life is a bitch and your general and academic life can't be pretty and pristine' bit) I have been doing my best to balance comfort and productivity in a way that helps me look out for what I need right now whilst still getting in as much revisiom as I'm able to.

So! I thought I'd share my little tips for building a comfy study space when conditions are not ideal but you still gotta keep moving:

• abandon the 'do not study in bed' tip, but only for as long as it helps you as opposed to hindering you. I have tried sittimg up at a desk with pillows and blankets swathing me- and all I get for it is hefty back pain and constant awkward readjustments every time I start heating up or shift around in my seat too much. If you're ill, you aren't doing yourself any good sitting hunched over a desk either- and frankly your sleep is probably going to be buggered until you're feeling better anyways. So, if sitting at a desk is putting you off, prop up some pillows, rest your writing materials on a hard surface (a folder, an A4 hardback- a chopping board works for a cute wannabe lap desk too), and set a zone of your bed aside (or just use a bedside cabinet if you have one) for anything you'll be using fairly often- by which I mean stationary, textbooks you'll be using over the course of the next hour or so- just enough stuff to save you constantly getting up out of your comfy study bubble.

• listen to tesco: every little helps. What I like to do to get myself going when I'm feeling naff- which works also if you're simply having a difficult time focusing yourself for the day- is to do micro pomodoro sessions, where I'll dedicate myself to 5 minutes minimum of focused study. If I really can't bring myself to continue longer than 5 minutes, I'll let myself rest for a little while (up to 20-30 minutes) before getting myself to do another micro session. This may not seem very productive, but you are more likely to do a good hour of work on a bad day when you tell yourself you only need to do little 5 minute sessions, than procrastinating studying because you feel as if you'll have to sit up and focus for a much longer period of time for it to count. Every. Little. Helps. In 5 minutes you can run through a topic of flash cards, do a slide of lecture notes, answer small exam questions, do a page or two of readings- and on a good day, that 5 minutes might turn into 10 with a small break, then 15, then you'll find yourself picking up your regular pace in no time! But again, even 5 minutes, just one little session, is a win when the world is throwing hurdles at you <3

• maximise your comfort: you know the little things that bring you joy, and you don't habe to be rolling in cash to surround yourself with little things to keep you going when all you want to do is sleep. My current comforts are the loyal presence of my cat next to me, a few old blankets I can swaddle myself in to stare at the ceiling when my ovaries are throwing a tantrum, a little variety of teas (currently rocking a chai latte with home bargains vanilla syrup, girl gotta have her sweet relief), a pack of energy drinks, some painkillers, and a little incense tray nearby that I forget to use 70% of the time (though the remaining 30% makes up for that). None of this is in particular mandatory- if it were, the dog people of the world would be doomed. The point is, find your little comforts- an activity you can do from the comfort of your bed like a puzzle, sensory toy or just a book to doodle in, a certain type of drink or snack you really love, some smellies (perfume, incense, candles, wax melts, and so on), supplies for whatever ails you- little personal things to relax you whilst you try to gather your energy.

• Now is not the time to push it. I tend to find the times in which I am most likely to push myself past my limits are the times in whicj something is inhibiting me- the frustration of being bed-bound, fatigued due to chronic conditions, etc tends to make me feel even more than usual that I am not doing enough because of my awareness of my present restrictions. Though this post is about pusning through bad times, you should be doing so with self-compassion, and with the mindset that every little bit you achieve in your current state is a win, a bonus, even if you find yourself unable to work to the same standard as normal. You aren't well- you aren't supposed to be functioning at 100% because your body is only functioning at 50%, and if you want to get back to your regular stressed student self you need to rest! Remember that a slightly lower grade than you were expecting in the short-term is not a reflection on your character, and it's better to *be* better for the long-term than to work yourself into a ditch and burn-out when you are already at a low point.

• If healthy study you is a carefully rehearsed play, then sick study you is a completely improvised show. Don't knock the analogy, even if it is silly and obscure- when I am at my peak, I will time-block my studies, plan to do certain topics on certain days, do 30-5 or 50-10 study sessions, work during a set period from the morning to the mid afternoon.

When I am ill, I do not know when I will be unable to sit up to work. I do not know when I will be able to sleep, to stomach food, to concentrate- so I have to accept that the normal routines that keep me consistent have to be chucked in the bin for the time being. Instead of planning my whole day, I create a vague, rough outline of the next few things I want to get done. This way, I don't feel crushed when I start working on lecture notes and find myself flat out on my back crying 10 minutes later- I just pick up where I left off when I'm ready, and work in increments from there.

°•☆•°

Right now my sleep is a bit fudgy because of night sweats/panics and p a i n, and by building a cosy space and letting my plans adapt to my body's needs I've managed to get 3 hrs of lecture notes, 2 sets of flashcards, and a set of logic practise questkons done over night between 8pm-4:30am. If I had tried to stick to my regular 'good day' study routine, I don't think I would have lasted 15 minutes before giving up and crawling over to youtube with a bowl of white chocolate and a horlicks in hand.

It is this kind of adaptability to external conditions that allowed me to survive an unstable home situation during college that meant weeks without wifi, constantly moving between different homes and constant fear of eviction due to family debts I was too young to do anything about- and allowed me to get into the top university in London* as a working class girly from a council estate.

I was given the opportunity to do an extra year at college for free due to these circumstances and a great support network within the institute to make sure I got into the specific university that I wanted to, and I had to take an interruption after my firdt yesr of university because I am not a super-human, and I knew my limits- but I'm still going, and the time away I've had has paid off and gotten me back to my scrappy, chaotic, passionately nerdy self.

You can be messy and be a good student too- and you can get through the worst of times with a little adaptability, perseverance, a good support network and a little self care ♡

*Times Good University Guide, 2024.

[frodothefair]

Nisilë vs. protracted SSRI withdrawal, an update.

Welp, here's a health update. As some of you may know, in early 2023 I tried an anxiety medication that I've taken before, had a bad reaction that was initially not recognized as such, and then when I started to get off of it, I had a different bad reaction, which turned into so-called protracted withdrawal. (For those interested in the topic, there's a website known as Surviving Antidepressants, a support group for people in my situation). Apparently, now I have to go off this medication over the course of several years, and I hardly wanted to be on it in the first place.

Anyway, things are a lot better this year than they were last year. The bottom line is that with this condition, things do get better, it just takes an inordinately long time. This time a year ago, if I had a good day it was a miracle. A lot of the time, I felt like I was having a low-grade panic attack, or like I had food poisoning, or like I was hungover. Whether or not I got sleep on a given night was a game of Russian Roulette.

This summer, most days are good, but I still get symptoms every few weeks, or when I encounter certain triggers. One trigger was a simple cold. Another was particularly spicy food. So I've cut out anything that could stress the nervous system: alcohol, coffee, spices. I'm fanatic about wearing a mask in public and avoiding travel. I won't get on a plane unless there's an emergency, because idiots fly with COVID all the time. (I personally know two such people).

But while I could take or leave it with the coffee, the alcohol, and the spices (I'll probably be healthier for it, in the long run), I was absolutely gutted when I learned of another trigger.

I can't do even the lightest exercise for more than 20 minutes, particularly when it's hot. I tolerate it fine in the moment, but the next day I feel like I've been poisoned, I may struggle to sleep, and I get panicky even when there's nothing going on. You'd think exercise would be helpful, but no. It has an invigorating effect, but for me that invigoration becomes over-activation.

So now, where does that leave me? I can forget about travel, because how realistic is travel without at least some walking? I can't sit on a beach or go swimming, and I used to love beach vacations; Hawaii was everything two years ago. I used to be an active person: there was no physical activity I could not do: hiking, biking, skiing, tennis, lugging suitcases up five flights of stairs when there was no help available... I did not do any of those things particularly well, but I had the strength and the physical prowess.

What's worse is that I've been wanting to get back into exercise. I've never done it regularly before, but I'd grown efficient at my job and I hardly take my work home anymore, so I finally have the energy and the time. I'm also in a place where I'm ready to make changes. For instance, I've stopped biting the insides of my mouth, and I'm doing my continuing medical education credits after I get home from work, rather than procrastinating until they're due. I also count my calories again, though without exercise the weight loss is painfully slow.

Anyway... I was in a funk about the above for a while, but I'm happy to say that I'm over it. After all, the mantra on Surviving Antidepressants is "this, too, shall pass." Someday I'll be able to hike and go to the beach again, but for now, I'm ripping through my continuing education requirements, I'm editing old work and putting out new work, and I'm happy to be alive. I am right where I want to be, for the most part.

[adrian-sinnz]

I can her my wife getting pounded in the quest room

I've been procrastinating on cleaning out our spare room for some time, but Wednesday I finally got to it.

  Took me all day, but it came out great, even was able to put clean bedding, and mounted a TV.

We hadn't had a usable guest room since we got the house.

Wednesday evening I showed it to Steph, and immediately asked if her fuck buddy Mark could spend the night.

I expected 'looks good, great job babe', but I wasn't disappointed, quite the opposite actually.

I quickly felt my heart race and my dick hardened.

"Hell yeah" I replied.

They made arrangements for Sunday (yesterday).

My wife Stephanie gave the reason for the sleep over that Mark and I could get to know each other better.

I was very pleased with that, because my biggest dream and fantasy is for her to have a live in boyfriend.

I have many reasons for this that I won't go into now, but also it was merely a sleep over and I didn't want to get ahead of myself.

But, one could dream, right?

Anyways, yesterday evening Mark arrived.

He arrived still in his police uniform and a black duffle bag with the word SWAT in white letters.

"Hey bro!" I said and shook his hand.

It felt a bit awkward, but we pressed on .

Steph walked up to him and greated him with a kiss.

We showed him to the guestroom and we told him to make himself comfortable.

"If you don't mind, I could really use a shower", Mark said.

"Good idea, let's all get comfy" tiff replied.

"I'll help you get settled in" Stephanie added.

Stephanie and Mark ended up in the guest shower together, as I ended up showering alone in our shower.

I came out wearing my usual pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, while Mark came out wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Stephanie on the other hand came out wearing what was obviously one of his shirts and nothing else.

They got comfortable on the full size couch under a blanket as I put on a movie and then took the smaller loveseat.

I put on the new wolverine and deadpool movie, which neither of us had seen yet.

The lights where off so I couldn't see Mark and my wife clearly, but i could definitely see motion under the blanket.

I'm pretty sure she was stroking his dick, and he was fingering her.

I got so fucking hard I just had to pull my dick out and start stroking it.

Upon seeing my dick out, Steph went beneath the blanket and started blowing our guest.

Mark leaned his head back and closed his eyes as I watched my wife’s head bob up and down beneath the blanket.

I did all I could to hold back my load and saver the sight, while Mark busted a nut in my wife's mouth.

Afterwards, Steph walked over to me and kissed me passionately.

She managed to save a bit of his cum for me, and it was delicious.

She then bent over giving Mark a full look of her sexy fucking ass and pussy, while she wrapped her hot mouth around my throbbing cock.

Feeling her hot, wet mouth and the slight slickness of Marks cum residue, I only took a minute to erupt.

It was my first cum of the day, but I'm pretty sure it was Mark's second time since his shower with my wife.

Either way , Mark and I where feeling much more relaxed and we talked and ordered pizza.

Afterwards, since we didn't really pay attention to the movie the first time, we ended up putting it back on. 

After the movie I went to our bedroom, and my wife and Mark headed to the guestroom.

Almost immediately I hear my wife getting fucked.

I listened closely as she's getting railed in the next room. The bed squeaked and hit the wall, she moaned loud, and he grunted when he came inside her.

She returned to me in our bed, sat on my face and fed me his cum.

Eating another man's cum from my wife's pussy is better than viagra so I was rock hard for the second time. 

I plowed into my wife's pussy injecting her with powerful streams of sperm as she climaxed over and over.

After, we decided to get some sleep, because she had work the next day (today).

Last night I woke up at 2am to find the bed empty.

I heard some show playing through the walls, and it was clearly covering up the sounds of sex. I put my ear to the door and heard it clearly.

My wife moaning. The slap of skin on skin. The bed squeaking. It made me hard all over again, and I started stroking myself to the sound. I could picture it in my mind.

My wife on her knees, face in a pillow,  while Mark fucked her hard. She was trying to keep it down to not wake me up.

Instead, I was up and listening. I listened as she begged him to fuck her. I listened as he slapped her ass. I listened as he grunted and came inside her.

I went back to bed and finished myself off. Cleaned up, and pretended to fall asleep. And eventually did before she came back to bed.

When I woke this morning,  the both of them had already left to work, and i got busy cleaning up, and washed all the bedding on both beds.

Mark did leave his stuff, so I'm hoping there will be another sleep over tonight.

Ps. I did get a few calles from concerned neighbors, asking if everything was okay, because they saw a cop car parked infront of the house all night. 

(Hopefully they will see it there more)

I like Mark, and my wife obviously likes Mark. Hopefully my fantasy will eventually come true.  If not , i can still pretend.