#daily needs home delivery

[life-of-eris]

I just did some quick math and the motherfuckers I work for pay me literally exactly enough so that I don't qualify for medicaid. Bastards.

[24seven987]

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[astrxealis]

OH MY FUCKING GOD I AM. very happy. my speech i had to give that i crammed on bcs i was really anxious about even just thinking it and i had to deliver it memorized and in front of the whole class for the first time in years? i only got. minus 1.25

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive (Daily updates!)

At a Glance ~Researchers found that current COVID-19 vaccines fail to generate mature and durable antibody-producing cells in the bone marrow. ~The findings could help explain why protection tends to decline over time. ~Better understanding of long-term immune responses could lead to improved vaccines that provide enduring protection.

Some vaccines offer long-lasting protection. For instance, the tetanus vaccine provides protection for at least 10 years. With other vaccines, protection may begin to decline within a few months. To provide enduring immunity, a vaccine must elicit production of long-lived plasma cells, a type of immune cell that matures over time in the bone marrow and can rapidly trigger production of disease-fighting antibodies.

The mRNA vaccines developed for the SARS-CoV-2 virus have proven effective at preventing severe COVID-19 and reducing hospitalizations. These vaccines trigger production of antibodies that home in on the virus’s spike protein. But protective antibodies can begin to fade as soon as three months later and lead to breakthrough infections. Researchers have been puzzled by this waning protection, since SARS-CoV-2-specific immune cells can often be found in the bone marrow.

To better understand why protection against SARS-CoV-2 dwindles months after vaccination, a research team led by Dr. F. Eun-Hyung Lee of Emory University took a closer look at immune cells in the bone marrow of 19 healthy adults. Participants ranged in age from 20 to 65. All had previously received between two and five doses of mRNA COVID-19 vaccines. Samples of their bone marrow were evaluated within 33 months after receiving their initial COVID-19 vaccine shot.

The participants had also received an influenza vaccine within a year of giving their bone marrow samples. And all had previously received tetanus shots and boosters. Their responses to these previous vaccines were used for comparison.

The researchers used a cell-sorting technique called flow cytometry to separate each participant’s bone marrow immune cells into different groupings. These included short-lived antibody-secreting cells and long-lived plasma cells that confer lasting protection. Results appeared in Nature Medicine on September 27, 2024.

The scientists found that they could readily detect long-lived plasma cells that target tetanus and influenza. In contrast, while shorter-lived antibody-secreting cells specific to SARS-CoV-2 were abundant, long-lived ones were mostly absent. Even among five participants who had recent SARS-CoV-2 infections and vaccinations, long-lived plasma cells against the virus were scarce in the bone marrow samples.

The findings hint that newly created antibody-secreting cells against SARS-CoV-2 are unable to become fully mature and long-lasting once they reach and settle into the bone marrow. In contrast, vaccines against tetanus and influenza prompt antibody-producing cells to mature within bone marrow and become long-lived plasma cells. Future studies will need to investigate how to generate long-lived plasma cells against SARS-CoV-2.

“The holy grail of vaccine researchers is the generation of long-lived plasma cells,” Lee says. “Our findings demonstrate that current SARS-CoV-2 mRNA vaccines do not provide such long-lasting protection within bone marrow. Further research is needed to determine if updated vaccines, new delivery schedules, or other factors might provide such protection.”

—by Vicki Contie

[lyvhie]

hai!!! could i request a idol! mark smut :(( where reader is missing him but hes too busy with work but then he surprises her over the new years!!!

happy new year to u!!! <3 sending u hugs and kisses

a nice surprise | lee mark

mark lee x fem!reader (18+ mdni) ꒰ summary ꒱ you were already expecting to spend another special occasion alone, but your boyfriend just wanted to surprise you. ꒰ a/n ꒱ little edit! OOPS IT WASNT AN ANON HELP MEEE!! IM SORRY, CUTIE I DIDNT SEE YOUR NAME thats embarrassing omg 🫣 happy new year to you too! i'm sorry it took me so long to write, i was really sick 😖 BUT I FINISHED!! i hope you like it and ALSO wishing you aaaall the best this year, mwah! 💖 ꒰ cw ꒱ smut, oral (f), unprotected sex, pet names.

When you started dating a famous person, you knew things wouldn’t be easy. Paparazzi, overzealous fans, and the constant need for caution every time you stepped outside, those challenges came with the territory. You’d prepared yourself for it, and over time, those things became just another part of your daily routine, barely registering as problems anymore.

What you hadn’t expected, though, was how difficult the distance would be.

Being away from Mark for days, weeks, sometimes even months, felt like torture. The only thing keeping you sane was the existence of technology—video calls, texts, and voice messages filled the gaps when he was free. But it wasn’t the same. There were nights when the loneliness hit harder than usual, when a screen or the sound of his voice through the phone just couldn’t replace the warmth of his presence. You didn’t just want him; you needed him there, right beside you.

But you knew that, no matter how much you longed for his presence, things couldn’t just change on a whim. Mark couldn’t simply drop everything he was doing to spend a day with you—even though he’d suggested it more times than you could count. The thought alone made your heart ache and swell at the same time, knowing how much he cared but also understanding the weight of his responsibilities.

Still, Mark always found a way to remind you that you were on his mind, no matter how far apart you were. Like the random voice notes he’d send in the middle of the night, whispering about his day because he knew you'd listen to them first thing in the morning. Or the surprise delivery of your favorite snacks and flowers with a note that simply read, "Thinking of you. Always."

It wasn’t the same as having him there, but it was enough to keep you going.

“So… you really won’t be here tonight?” The disappointment in your voice was clear as you lay on your bed, hugging the pillow tightly and pressing your cellphone against your ear. “You couldn’t make it for Christmas, and now this…”

He was supposed to come home today, and at least start the year with you after weeks without seeing each other. But something went wrong with their flight, and now they’d have to wait two more days to board another plane. Two days might not seem like much, but after being apart for so long, the thought of waiting two more days felt like an eternity.

“I know it’s frustrating, I really wanted to be there with you,” you could hear his sigh on the other end of the line. “I promise I’m doing everything I can to get home to you as soon as possible. These two days will fly by, I’ll make it up to you when I get there. Just a little longer, okay? I miss you so much.”

The warmth in his voice made the ache in your chest a little more bearable, but it still didn’t take away the longing you felt. “I miss you too, love, you have no idea,” you said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I wanna see you so bad, Mark.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I wanna see you too. Just hang in there for me, okay? I’ll be there before you know it.” Before he could say more, you heard faint voices in the background followed by his hum. “Baby, I… I hate to do this, but my manager’s calling me. I have to go,” he said reluctantly.

“It’s okay,” you chuckled softly, imagining the little pout that was surely on his face. “Go do what you need to do.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay? Promise. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving the room enveloped in quiet once more, the only sound now your soft breathing. You let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was just you and the silence again.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Three firm knocks on your front door echoed through the room, loud enough to pull you from your thoughts. You glanced at the time on your phone—it wasn’t exactly the hour for unannounced visits, and you weren’t expecting anyone. Well, not anymore, anyway. Maybe it was your neighbor, they had an uncanny knack for finding reasons to complain about the tiniest sounds.

You let out a small groan and shouted, “I’m coming!” as another knock sounded, dragging yourself out of bed.

“Hi, how can I—” The words died on your lips the moment you saw who was standing at the door. Your eyes widened, and your jaw slackened as your hand remained frozen on the doorknob.

“Hey, beautiful,” Mark greeted you with that boyish smile you adored, a cute teddy bear in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. The sight of him left you speechless, your heart racing as if it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

Before you knew it, you had thrown yourself into his arms, the force of your embrace nearly causing the teddy bear and chocolates to slip from his grip. He caught you effortlessly, as if he had been waiting for this moment as much as you had. Your arms tightened around him, your face burying into his shoulder as his familiar scent washed over you, sweeping away the loneliness of the past weeks in an instant.

Mark managed to nudge the door shut behind him and guided you both further inside. Without breaking the hug, he set the teddy bear and chocolates down on a nearby surface, his hands quickly finding their way back to you. His arms wrapped around you firmly now, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face as if making sure he was real. “You’re really here?” you asked softly, your eyes scanning every inch of his familiar features.

“I’m really here,” he replied with a chuckle, leaning into your touch. He couldn’t help but find it adorable how you stared at him like he was some kind of alien. Covering your hand with his, he turned his head slightly to press a tender kiss to your palm.

“So… all that stuff about the airplane was a lie?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. His cheeky grin was all the answer you needed.

“I wanted to make a—” he started, but his explanation was cut off as your hands playfully squished his cheeks.

“Mark Lee!” you scolded, though the smile breaking across your face betrayed your mock anger.

Mark laughed softly as he tried to wiggle free from your hands, his grin never leaving his face. “Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he said, eyes sparkling with affection. “I thought it would be a good surprise, sorry.”

You let go of his cheeks, your hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders, then gently on his chest as you looked up at him. There was a moment of silence, the playful energy from before softening into something deeper, more intimate. You searched his eyes, your voice quieter, more sincere.

“And it was,” you whispered, your heart full as you leaned in slightly. “God, it was. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m finally here too, I missed you so much,” Mark said softly, his voice thick with emotion. It was his turn to cup your face gently between his hands, his gaze soft as he looked at you, almost as if he was memorizing the moment. Without another word, he leaned in, bringing his lips to yours in a warm, affectionate kiss that felt like home, his love for you pouring into every second.

The kiss lingered for a moment, slow and tender, as if both of you were savoring the reunion, letting the warmth of each other fill the space between you. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“You’re really here,” you whispered again, as if you couldn’t quite believe it, the words tumbling out like a soft confession.

Mark chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m here, baby. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of relief and joy flooding through you. You leaned in again, kissing him once more, this time deeper, pulling him even closer, as if you couldn't get enough. Mark’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, his other hand sliding down to your waist, rubbing slow circles that made you melt into him.

“Mmh, I missed that too,” he murmured against your lips, his smile evident in his voice as his hands toyed with the waistband of your pants.

“Mark…” you tried to sound stern, your tone a mix of warning and amusement as you attempted to pull away. But he wasn’t having it, his lips quickly chasing yours, capturing them in another kiss.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. His hands slid lower, cupping your ass with a firm squeeze that had your breath hitching, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You act like you don’t like it,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with affection.

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to be truly annoyed. “I didn’t say that,” you muttered, trying to keep a straight face.

“Exactly,” he smirked, his grip on you tightening slightly. “So let me make up for all the time I’ve been away.”

Before you could say anything more, he silenced you with another kiss, gently guiding you backward toward the bedroom. You didn’t try to protest or stop him, simply letting the moment continue as your arms wrapped around his neck. As you passed through the bedroom door, Mark felt his mind drift into a state of calm. The entire space carried your scent, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. It was just another one of the countless things he missed—the feeling of being surrounded by everything that reminded him of you.

Mark gently laid you down on the bed, his lips staying connected to yours as he followed you. The comforting weight of his body against yours made everything else fade away. His kisses began to wander, trailing from your jaw to your neck, then down to your collarbone and the delicate valley between your breasts.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching his every move as your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that you were sure he could hear it. With slow, deliberate movements, he lifted your shirt, his lips continuing their journey downward, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses along your belly. The soft sensation sent a ripple of tingles through you, drawing a quiet chuckle from your lips.

Mark glanced up at the sound, a side smile gracing his lips before he returned to his path, stopping just at the waistband of your pants. His gaze lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his eyes stealing your breath and leaving you speechless, your entire body attuned to his next move.

Mark’s hands lingered at your waistband, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, igniting a trail of warmth that made your breath catch. His gaze never wavered from yours, searching your eyes as if silently asking for permission. When you nodded, the smallest movement, he leaned up to kiss you again. Soft, tender, and unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second. His hands worked deftly, slipping your pants down inch by inch, his lips following their descent with featherlight kisses that sent shivers up your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as his lips traced a path along the inside of your thighs. Every kiss, every gentle press of his hands, carried a tenderness that left no doubt about how much he’d missed you, full of care and unspoken longing.

Your heart raced as you took him in, the contrast of his soft, adoring gaze and the undeniably seductive way he moved leaving you breathless. He looked so unfairly perfect—both sweet and completely enticing—positioned between your legs, his intentions written clearly in his eyes.

“Mark…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging lightly. You weren’t even sure if it was meant to ground yourself or encourage him further, but the smirk that tugged at his lips told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

And you didn’t need to say anything more. His mouth had already found its way to your center, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to shield you from the heat of his tongue as it teased over the delicate material. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your breath coming in a long, shaky sigh as your eyes dropped to meet his. The way he looked at you, so intent and unrelenting, only made the anticipation coil tighter in your core.

He didn’t make you wait long. His tongue moved purposefully, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves even through the fabric, a sensation so electrifying it had your fingers clutching the sheets beside you. The soft suction that followed had a breathy moan slipping from your lips, unbidden and raw.

“Mark…” you whispered his name again, your voice a mix of need and surrender, your hips subtly arching toward him, silently begging for more.

His only answer was a soft hum that sent a gentle vibration through you, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. His teeth gently tugged at your panties, pulling them down slowly, all while his gaze remained locked on yours.

Needless to say, you were already dripping, and that sight made his heart swell with pride. No matter how many times he found himself in this position, the view of you laid out before him always felt as thrilling as the first time. His gaze lingered for a moment, taking in every detail before he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your clit.

The gentle press of his lips against your sensitive spot sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you gasp softly. His tongue darted out, circling around the delicate bundle of nerves with a teasing precision that had your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back against the pillow.

He watched your reaction, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, before sliding his tongue down, parting your slick folds and licking through your slit. His movements were slow, deliberate, savoring every taste as he explored you.

Another moan left your lips as he continued, the warmth of his mouth combined with the skillful flicks of his tongue driving you crazy. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he worked, his own excitement growing with every shudder and whimper he drew from you.

His tongue continued its journey, alternating between long, languid licks and quick, focused flicks over your clit, building you up slowly, savoring every moment of your pleasure.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gently pulling as your hips moved instinctively against his mouth. The sensation of his tongue, combined with the heat pooling in your core, was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer with each stroke.

Mark glanced up, catching the blissed-out expression on your face, and it only spurred him on. He flattened his tongue, dragging it up slowly from your entrance to your clit, then wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking gently. The change in pressure had you gasping, your thighs trembling around his head.

“You taste so good," he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hands now gripped your hips tighter, anchoring you as he continued to work his magic, bringing you closer and closer to the release you craved.

Your breaths came quicker, each exhale accompanied by a moan. "Mark... I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice strained with need.

He didn't let up, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from you. One of his hands slipped down, his thumb finding your clit to rub in tandem with his tongue, sending you over the edge.

Your body tensed, a wave of ecstasy washing over you as you came undone beneath him. A cry of his name escaped your lips, your back arching as he continued to lap at you, helping you ride out the high.

As the tremors subsided, he pulled back slightly, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his eyes filled with satisfaction and adoration. He crawled up to meet your gaze, brushing a stray hair from your face and leaning in to capture your lips in a slow, lingering kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands roamed down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, your fingers slipping under his shirt, tugging at the fabric. Mark's breath hitched slightly, the desire in his eyes deepening as he pulled back just enough to shed his shirt, revealing his bare chest. You ran your hands over his skin, savoring the warmth beneath your fingertips as he leaned down, capturing your lips again.

He shifted, pressing himself against you, and you could feel the hard outline of his arousal through his pants. Your hand moved between you, palming him gently, eliciting a soft groan from his lips, your touch becoming more intended as you began to unbutton his pants, sliding them down his hips.

He kicked them off, his body pressing back into yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Mark positioned himself, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly pushed into you, the both of you releasing a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“You feel so good," he whispered, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. Mark's movements remained gentle, each thrust slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to memorize every sensation, every reaction from you. The room was filled with soft sighs and the quiet rustle of sheets as you clung to him.

His pace quickened slightly, the friction building a delicious tension between you both. You arched into him, your hands threading through his hair as you whispered, "I'm close again.” The sensitivity from your previous climax heightened every sensation, making your body tremble beneath him.

Mark's forehead pressed against yours, his eyes locking with yours as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting the perfect spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Let go for me, love" he coaxed, his voice soothing, full of love.

With his encouragement, you felt the wave of pleasure cresting again, your body tensing as you cried out his name. The intensity of your release pulled him closer to the edge, and with a few more thrusts, he followed. A groan escaped his lips as he pulled out, spilling himself onto your belly, the warmth of his release spreading between you as he shuddered, his breath ragged.

Mark collapsed gently beside you, his breathing ragged as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and the soft rise and fall of his chest helped calm your racing heart.

For a while, you both stayed like that, in silence, just holding each other, the only sound in the room was the soft rhythm of your breaths, gradually returning to normal. The warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, and neither of you felt the need to break the tranquility of the moment.

Mark kissed the top of your head and was about to speak when a loud thud echoed from the wall of the bedroom. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern and you couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound filling the room.

"I guess we made the neighbor mad again."

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

[katyawriteswhump]

something new 💝 (steddie microfic, steddie bingo)

For @steddiemicrofic January prompt, ‘new’ and @steddiebingo fill, ‘soulmates.’

Rating: M; WC: 517; CW: Omegaverse; Tags: Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, fluff, mild angst and h/c, Steve and Chrissy are besties, strangers to lovers, steddie soulmates. Summary: The Omega darling of the entire High School, Steve Harrington figured he was totally in control… until Eddie Munson happened.

💝💝💝💝💝

Steve sat in the corridor, leaning against the music-room wall. On the other side, a voice soared above a thrash-metal beat and melted his inner Omega into a puddle of need.

“Steve? You’re late for cheerleading practice… Oh!” Chrissy crouched down, stroked his clammy brow. “Stevie, you’re burning up.”

“I-it’s that voice.”

This was new, frightening. Steve daily flirted his ass off without breaking sweat—the Omega Princess of Hawkins High. This terrifyingly wonderful sound, however, hit some catastrophic resonance.

Slick gushed into his cheerleader hotpants. “Chrissy, what’s happening?”

“I think,” said the other Omega, “Eddie is happening.”

“Munson?”

The wild noisy music checked out, scaring Steve shitless. Eddie was a ‘dangerous’ bad-boy Alpha. They’d never even spoken.

“Sssssh, breathe,” said Chrissy. “C’mon, let’s clean you up.”

They skipped practice, while Steve calmed. Chrissy reassured him she’d known Eddie for years: “He looks scary, but he’s really nice.”

Later, in the canteen, Steve tentatively approached Eddie, who glanced his way, eyes narrowing. His Alpha musk—smoky-sweet with undertones of freshly-fired iron—stabbed Steve like a smoldering dagger.

Steve woke up at home, confused and mildly slick, a wisp of Eddie’s scent still upon him.

Horror struck.

He’d fainted! Chrissy, who sat by his bed, told him Eddie had been worried, and they’d brought him home together. Ugh, he was still so ashamed.

Steve couldn’t face college the next day. By lunchtime, multiple deliveries of chocolates and flowers had arrived from various Alphas.

Nothing new. None of them smelled of Eddie. He’d blown it.

Then an envelope landed on the doormat, containing a mixtape lightly doused in... Eddie’s scent.

Steve slid it into his Walkman and lay down, pulse skittering.

Hardcore-metal thrilled through him, interjected with soft-rock he already loved, like Bon Jovi.

Finally, Eddie sang.

Steve writhed, stroking himself, weeping with need. Eddie husked in his ears: “Never even spoken, never fucking touched. You tore inside me, twisting viscera, totally fucked me up…”

In the aftermath, Steve trembled, stunned.

The phone rang.

His parents were away, so Eddie came straight over. Chrissy, too, for support. This time, Steve perched on the bed, while Eddie approached cautiously. He kneeled to take Steve’s hand, smiling tentatively.

“This is new for me,” he mumbled, blushing and almost bashful. He kissed Steve’s fingers, setting Steve reeling giddily, tingling head-to-toe: “Never courted an Omega, like, old-school, before.”

Steve nearly yelled: This is the first time I’ve genuinely wanted to be courted. Instead, he said, “I love your voice.”

Please jump my bones already?

Eddie blushed harder and beamed wolfishly. Steve clasped his wrist and tugged him onto the bed, and animal magnetism did the rest. Eddie took Steve in his arms. Excruciatingly sweetly, Eddie’s lips brushed Steve’s, tongue probing gently. Steve tipped his throat back with a relieved sigh, turning willingly pliant. Eddie licked and nuzzled his scent-gland, setting him purring.

Chrissy giggled. “Gonna call Rob to pick me up.”

A month later, they were going steady. Eddie finally shared the title of the song he wrote that first day, when the longing in Steve’s Omega scent hijacked him and transformed his life forever:

‘Soulmates.’

💝💝💝💝💝

zero pressure tag: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[monster-effer]

Could I request head canon where the LADS guys find out reader/mc smokes? It’s a bad habit but she’s trying to stop 🙈🙈

Absolutely! Here you go <3

Sylus

You are taking a smoke break on your balcony after a very stressful mission. And Mephisto is doing his daily surveillance of you and your apartment building. When he gets enough footage of your new smoking habit, he reports back to Sylus.

After he’s informed, Sylus gives you a call “You know, smoking is a very unhealthy habit kitten.”

“How do you know that I smoke?”

“A little birdie told me.”

From then on, when you buy a carton of cigarettes they mysteriously go missing from your balcony, living room table and even from your purse?!?

Sylus arranges the periodic delivery of nicotine gum to your apartment for 2 months straight.

He also makes more of an effort to reach out to you. Both you and Sylus have busy schedules, but he always will make room in his schedule for you.

After a few months of these shenanigans you realize that you haven’t smoked in a while. Your craving for cigarettes has diminished to almost nothing. And even when you do feel that urge, you don’t hesitate to call Sylus. Because you know he will always be there for you.

Caleb

After the explosion where you assumed both Caleb and granny passed away you were emotionally in shambles. But you are a hunter now and it is your responsibility to protect the public from wanderers and wrong doers alike. In effort to suppress your emotions you picked up a bad habit, which happened to be smoking. It began with you trying out a cigarette one day, then it evolved into you going through one carton per week.

You don’t think you’ll ever get over losing Caleb and your grandma in one fell swoop. But when he makes his way back into your life you are shook to say the least. You really want to kick your smoking habit mainly because you don’t want Caleb to find out about it. But it has a hold on you now.

Since you’ve been spending time at Caleb’s Skyhaven apartment you tend to leave things behind. One time, you leave behind a lone cigarette which leads to Caleb discovering your new habit.

Caleb does not hesitate to confront you about it “Princess is this really a habit conducive to being a hunter? And…what if something happens to you? I don’t know what I’d do if you developed cancer from this.”

Once you two have a heart to heart about why you started smoking, Caleb starts to take advantage of the amount of leave afforded to him from the from the DAA. He is spending more quality time with you after work and on the weekends to make sure you don’t have to resort to smoking when you’re feeling down.

He purchases out an old gaming system so you two can play co-op games together like you did in your childhood. He cooks you whatever meal you request to keep you happy and well fed.

You start to spend more time at his Skyhaven apartment than your own. One day while you lounge in the living room and Caleb cooks in the kitchen, the sudden realization that you haven’t even thought about smoking in weeks pops into your mind. You don’t know how to thank Caleb for helping you break this habit. But what you do know is from today forward, you no longer need to fill the void in your heart with cigarettes because you have him.

Zayne

He majorly disapproves of your smoking habit. He goes straight into doctor mode and lectures you on the multiple risks that come with smoking including:

Slowed wound healing Cancer risk Increased risks of heart disease and stroke Osteoporosis COPD

He gives you tips on quitting like sucking on hard candy, chewing gum or eating fruit when you feel that urge. He frequently goes on walks with you to reduce your stress because you started smoking due to your heavy work schedule as a hunter.

He helps keep you accountable by checking the ash tray at your home for any evidence of smoking and offering to test you for smoking when you come in for annual doctor visits.

Although his approach may seem strict, your health and wellbeing means the world to him. You are the love of his life and he wants you to be healthy.

Xavier

Since he lives a floor above you he is on his balcony one evening and looks down to see you smoking a cigarette. Xavier is surprised because he’s never noticed this habit of yours.

To confirm that this wasn’t his tired mind playing tricks on him he decides to spy on you some more. Over the next 3 weeks Xavier makes it a habit to peak down towards your balcony. And so far he’s seen witnessed you smoking 3 times a week, at minimum.

He softly brings it up to you as you two laze around on your couch after a session of stuffing your faces together.

“So…when did you become a smoker?”

You feel a bit ashamed because you’ve been trying hard to break this habit. But you won’t lie to him.

“Honestly, I picked up the habit one day after a stressful mission. And I’ve been smoking ever since.”

Xavier tilts his head to the side as he listens to your explanation. “If I can help you relieve stress in a different way, will you give up cigarettes?”

You look towards Xavier in confusion. His beautiful cerulean eyes have darkened like they do when he is feeling lustful. Your breath hitches in your throat at what he’s suggesting.

“Hmm I’m not sure. Why don’t we try it out a few times to see if it helps,” you reply cheekily.

By the time Xavier is done with you, you are worn out and noticeably less stressed. This just may work, and if it doesn’t, you’re going to enjoy trying.

Rafayel

When Rafayel finds out that you smoke cigarettes he is surprised about it. But that surprise morphs into concerns for your health. He broaches the topic by saying “Ms. Bodyguard, how can I expect you to protect me if you start wheezing during cardio because you smoke cigarettes?”

When that teasing remark doesn’t seem to get through to you, he brings out the big guns. He begins to pout and gives you puppy dog eyes. “What would Reddie think?”

After you two talked about why you started smoking and what it does for you, Rafayel makes it his mission to pester you (with love) more than usual.

text: [pic] Here’s a pic of Reddie, he says he hopes you’ve been smoke free today.

“Hey, I was in the neighborhood and I decided to drop off some nicotine gum.”

“Why am I here? You texted me about how stressed you are. So I will be your personal masseuse for the evening.”

text: EMERGENCY, COME ASAP. You arrive at his home just to find out that Rafayel wanted your opinion on his most recent painting and wanted to get seafood together.

You’re enjoying the increased quality time with Rafayel and although it pains you to admit it, it has been helping. You have not had the time nor energy to think of let alone go out to buy cigarettes since you confided in him about your smoking habit. Both him and Reddie are your little family and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

[jaehunnyy]

Ateez and the things they do for you while on tour

Genre: established relationship, floof—lots of it, crack-ish?

Word count: 1.9k

Pairing: idols!Ateez x gn!reader

Warnings: pet names (+ reader calling Mingi princess), possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu

Networks: @cromernet 🤍

Hongjoong - falling asleep on face-time

☆ Hongjoong keeps track of every single difference between his and your timezone, having it as a daily reminder on the world clock.

☆ It doesn't matter how tired he is after performing and melting million hearts;

☆ He could never be too tired for his love.

☆ Calls you when he's on his way to the hotel room if it's at a suitable hour;

☆ If not, he would settle for napping for a bit and set an alarm so he can call you at a reasonable time.

☆ Loves having your voice playing in the background for whenever sleep gets too hard to fight against (and if you start talking about your day, it's simply music for his ears).

☆ Smiles contentedly, even in his sleep, when you tell him how proud you are and how much you love and miss him.

☆ "You shined today too, baby. I am so, so, proud of you, and I hope you know that."

☆ Even when he's drowsy—droopy eyes, mouth slightly open, almost slipping into the dreams' world, he would never be too tired to mouth an "I love you too, love; thanks for being by my side,"—might come off as a mumble, but the intention is there.

☆ And that's the tutorial on how to make your sleepy Joong happy. :)

Seonghwa - buying souvenirs

☆ Seonghwa would buy the whole shop for you if he could. 

☆ Not that he didn't want to, but Yeosang—his shopping companion, didn't allow that to happen. 

☆ Whenever he sees a cute object, be it little or big, his eyes gather the whole universe in them, an excited smile creeping on his face, as the only thing he can say is "Y/n! :D" 

☆ Magnets? "These would look amazing on their fridge!" 

☆ Clothes? "I remember they said they needed a new cardigan." 

☆ Plushies? "Y/n's shelves have been pretty empty lately, these would look great in there :D." 

☆ And who are you to burst his bubble? It's not like you didn't try to tell him that he should tone it down; but he didn't even bother to listen to you, stuffing more and more into his luggage for when he comes home to show you. 

☆ When unboxing, he would just smile and proceed to take more out of his suitcase. 

☆ "Honey, you don't need to spend so much money on me…" You say, looking at the suitcase he claimed was filled with only souvenirs. 

☆ "Can you blame me, starlight? Let me spoil you." He smiles, settling himself on the floor as he keeps on unpacking, making you accept your fate and smile as well.

Yunho - sending you dancing videos

☆ This man is all but leaving you alone—not that you're complaining or anything. 

☆ He would send you videos of him practicing every single hour, maybe call you too, just to show (and maybe flex) his fantastic dancing skills. 

☆ Sometimes, he would even call you and ask you to learn something together—he just loves to see you dance with him, okay? 

☆ Always asks for your opinion first, on every cover he wants to post. 

☆ "I think that's good enough to post, Yun—" Wooyoung would try to say, but his friend would brush him off quickly. 

☆ "Let me ask Y/n first! :D" 

☆ The moment the warmth of your praises engulfs him—he becomes a malfunctional boy; smiling from ear to ear, continuously staring at your texts, making everyone around him ask him if he is okay, if he needs to see a doctor or something (it's just his friends being the teases they are)—yet he wouldn't care, he is in love <3. 

☆ "Of course it's amazing, Yuyu. You're doing amazing everytime <333." 

☆ He would melt into a puddle. 

☆ "No words can explain how thankful I am for you, my darling." 

Yeosang - delivering sweet nothings

☆ Yeosang would send special deliveries for his significant other.

☆ He has to make sure his baby is being well taken care of even when he's away, doesn't he?

☆ If you randomly get up due to the sound of your doorbell—know that Yeo planned something; again.

☆ Sometimes it's fresh food from your favorite restaurant; sometimes flowers bouquets.

☆ Sometimes, even your favorite hoodie of his—to remind you of him, and his scent.

☆ He would be sneaky and innocent about it too—he would never admit it's him (he would, you just have to be cute enough for it).

☆ "Yeoooo, the flowers you sent yesterday are still there! Where am I supposed to place these ones?"

☆ "What flowers, sweets? I didn't send you anything though?" The lie would slip through his lips, soon curling into a mischievous smile.

☆ Secretly—he enjoys it way too much—seeing how happy you are after the warm meal, how you couldn't stop smelling the flowers he chose for you.

☆ He loved you so much and he had to prove it somehow, even if he was miles away from you.

San - hugging his phone while face-timing

☆ San loves physical attention; he craves it—a lot.

☆ And though there's no way you can give it to him, he finds one, 'cause he's your smart boyfriend.

☆ He came up with the sudden idea of you hugging your phones at the same time, as silly as that might sound.

☆ Hugging the devices to your chests was giving him enormous comfort—not so much of a physical one, but one for the heart, at least.

☆ At first, you didn't expect him to want this to be a regular thing, you thought he would do it one time and then forget about it—or simply leave it aside.

☆ No. Your boyfriend started doing that every single call.

☆ "Y/nnnnn, do you feel it? The warmth?" He asks, his eyes shaped into little crescent moons, while the joy would dig little dimples into his cheeks.

☆ "Sannie… all I feel is how hot my phone got after three hours of continuously face-timing you," you say, looking at his pout through the screen.

☆ "Can you at least pretend? It's the only thing that unites us right now, so please pretend it's me you're hugging, sweets."

☆ With time, you came to understand what he was talking about—it felt nice to imagine him cuddled into your arms, counting the days and hoping they would pass faster and give you your boyfriend back.

Mingi - sending you voice texts

☆ Mingi would send you cute voice texts, and expects you to answer in the same manner.

☆ He would send one right after he woke up, the hoarseness of his voice echoing through your ears and making you giggle.

☆ Would also send you lots of them when he reaches the comfort of his hotel bed, telling you about his day and waiting for you to call, for the live experience.

☆ Sometimes, he would send some in the middle of the day, and when you play them, you're met with the beauty of his singing voice, playing one of the songs he had written, just for you.

☆ Along with comfort, they would usually make tears prickle at the corner of your eyes—because you miss him, and because the depth of the lyrics makes you want to give him the biggest hug ever.

☆ Mingi would also send you vocal texts of him silly laughing at random jokes, or funny videos, claiming that he doesn't want you to forget his laugh (don't forget he wants to hear yours too).

☆ And hearing him laugh would automatically make you cackle too, recording it just in time.

☆ "Princess? If I had a superpower, I wish I could teleport," you said, sending the short voice message to him.

☆ "And why is that, sweetheart?" He asks, in the same manner.

☆ "So I can come there and give you the biggest hug ever," and that was enough to make him melt and think about how much he loves you.

Wooyoung - recording daily vlogs

☆ Wooyoung would be recording silly little vlogs for you at every single step.

☆ No one and nothing could hold him back from turning his camera on selfie mode and pressing the rec button (but also, no one can stop him when he's about to fall 'cause he doesn't see where he steps).

☆ As soon as he gets into his hotel room, he will start making the room tour for you, explaining every detail he notices about it.

☆ Sometimes, he would trick some staff members into showing him the stage outfits beforehand, just for you to wake up with an outfit check vlog made by your boyfriend, exclusively.

☆ He could be anywhere—restaurant, preparing to eat; backstage, preparing to go on stage, or simply walking around the city—it wouldn't matter, his hand is always able to hold a camera or at least his phone.

☆ Oh, and don't you dare interrupt him—he gave San the nastiest look when he called Woo for game night.

☆ "I'm recording my daily vlog for Y/n, can't you see, San? When did you become so heartless?" He asked, hand holding his heart as San raised his arms, defeated.

☆ "Sorry, angel. San is bothering me. Back to you now! :D"

☆ If you could ever make time to send him one of your own daily vlogs too, he would be the happiest man; saving it and staring at it all along, like a lucky charm.

☆ "I decided I should send you a daily vlog from work too, can't let my pookie forget my face and voice," you said, and his lips stretched into the widest smile.

Jongho - singing lullabies for you

☆ Jongho's honey-like voice would melt into another lullaby you asked him for, despite the late hour you were talking at.

☆ You missed your boyfriend's presence—his beautiful gummy smile whenever you told him you loved him, his hugs, everything about him.

☆ And, last but not least, you missed his voice.

☆ You found it hard to sleep without him talking to you, or without hearing him practice another melodious ballad again—and you craved it.

☆ And it seemed like he missed doing these acts of service for you as well;

☆ 'Cause, the second you told him that you wanted to hear him, he didn't hesitate to immediately call you and start to sing another soulful song for you, smiling whenever you complimented him.

☆ His passion was something great to watch too—from the way his eyelashes would stroke his skin whenever he closed his eyes, the way his mouth opened whenever he hits any high notes, to the confidence on his face.

☆ You could swear that your admiration for him painted his cheeks into a crimson blush, yet he couldn't complain, he was proud to have you by his side.

☆ "Can you sing the chorus one more time, please? I don't want it to end before I fall asleep." You asked, looking at him before closing your eyes in order to fall asleep while he was still singing for you.

☆ He let a soft smile appear on his face, singing for you once again and only stopping when you finally fell asleep, whispering a sweet "Good night, sunshine."

[dewdropsonparchment]

SDV Headcanons: Sam 2/?

I promise I sometimes think about the other characters (keyword: sometimes) but Sam's pull is just too strong, what's a girl to do, I've got to gravitate.

Sam having a crush headcanons:

Long, insisting stares. Nothing weird or uncomfortable, he'd just kind of get lost in thought looking at you, a faint smile plastered on his face and his eyes drinking in your every change in expression. If you caught him and called him out on it, he'd probably sheepishly apologize, grinning like a dummy and laughing about it. He might try to flirt if he felt comfortable enough, "sorry you kinda took my breath away just now". He's a bit of a goofy flirt.

Always scanning the area for a glimpse of you. Not to spy on you or anything, you'd just kind of be like his daily dose of sunshine and he'd just literally function on that energy he gets when he sees you. Not only that but he'd want to make sure you look ok. If you seemed tired or down, he'd try to help out and make you feel better. Sam really does care, and he'd want that smile of yours to be showing always.

He'd want to learn about whatever it is that you like and about your hobbies. Even if you were interested in something he wouldn't really have cared about prior to knowing you, he would research it and try to learn about it so he can bring it up when you're hanging out. He'd even go as far as trying it out with you if that was a possibility. The same way he loves for you to take an interest in his hobbies, he wants you to feel appreciated and comforted in the idea that he is genuinely interested in what makes you happy.

He would slowly yet surely try to use pet names when addressing you. At first he would maybe drop one jokingly, saying it in an overly exaggerated tone, and then it'd become some sort of habit. He'd call for your attention using it and enjoy the fact it was something special between the two of you.

Regardless of whether or not you felt the same way about him as he did you, Sam wouldn't want to lose your friendship. He would have fallen for you because of who you are and even if he had to let his crush go or keep it to himself, he wouldn't sacrifice any bit of the bond you share together no matter your feelings. If anything, he'd probably keep on admiring you and cherishing you, but he would try to make it so that he's not burdening you with it.

Sam is definitely big on PDA. He would want to be close to you. His arm brushing against yours, his head centimeters away from yours while you're showing him something on your phone or in a magazine, his hand gently resting on the small of your back, even touching your hands while he's daydreaming or talking about something he's especially passionate about... this man craves for your touch and he'll take as much as you give him as long as you're comfortable giving it. He'll respect your boundaries, no justification needed.

Sam wants to hug everyone. But especially you. Oh you're saying hello? Here's one as a morning treat. You've done something you're embarrassed or shy about? No worries, he's got you... he'll hide you in a strong warm bear hug. Feeling like the world is beating down on you? He'd hold you so tight you would feel like nothing else exists outside of him and his reassuring smell. There is nothing better than a hug for him to show you he's there and will be there for you no matter what.

He will bring you whatever reminds him of you. A flower on the way home that wore your favorite colors? It's yours now. That little keychain that looked cute and had your vibe? Hey, better have some spare space on that key ring clip. A new yummy pastry made of your favorite flavors his eyes stopped on while ordering his go-to pizza? It's free food delivery time o'clock baby. You might need some sort of box to store all of these if we're being honest because he just won't stop.

Sam would become very protective of you. He is very protective of the people he cares about in general, but with those feelings for you, he would want to make sure everyone knows that if they crossed you the wrong way he'd make them eat their audacity. Not that he believes that you can't handle yourself, he's actually quite proud to boast about how strong and cool and amazing you are at any given opportunity, but there's just that little itch in him that pushes him to want to make sure no harm is every in the way of getting done to you. If he had to take a punch for you, he'd do it and not bat an eye.

He will be your hype man. If you ever feel like shit or you can't make peace with yourself on a particular day, he'll throw those compliments at you as fast as Pierre would run after that 1 gold coin. And nothing disingenuous, it's all heartfelt and he means all of it. He won't let you beat yourself up, he'll make sure that his voice is louder than any other that might try to put you down, even your own. You are precious to him, and he will make it a point to have you know in excruciating details exactly why you are.

Another tell tale sign of his falling for you would be the changes in lyrics regarding the songs he usually hums to himself. While he'd usually go for empowering songs, falling for you he'd catch himself listening to slower, more romantic songs with all those sappy lyrics he kinda made fun of before. And he'd listen to them on repeat, lying down on his bed, looking at the ceiling and just picturing your face as the melody goes. He'd have them stuck in his head so much he'd mindlessly sing them around you or others. Seb wouldn't let him live it down.

[asteroshearts]

My Type

Oh no! Nanami's wife is just Itadori's type!

Or the story of how, upon meeting Nanami's wife, Itadori just can't take his eyes off her.

Nanami x Reader

Tags: this story was referenced here, but can be read completely alone, she/her pronouns, discussions of body types, Itadori's a bit of a pervert here (but he doesn't actually see anything!! Nanami, however, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)), typical anime flashing

Hey Ken: How are you feeling?

You: Like shit My fever got worse after you left

Hey Ken: I'll be home soon. Please take ibuprofen, drink lots of water, and rest as much as you can. I'm finishing up now.

You: I just checked our cabinet We ran out of Bufferin UGHHHH I feel terrible I fucking told Daiki from accounting that he should go home if he was coughing but he said it was fine AND COUGHED IN MY FACE And now look at me

Hey Ken: We're out? I'll pick some up on my way home while I grab our other groceries. Please wait for me until then. Take a nap if you can. You're just going to get more exhausted thinking of the idiots in your office.

You: I looked online, delivery is going to take over an hour I'm getting dizzier I don't want to wait I'm going to go to the Matsukiyo near us to get it myself

Hey Ken: What?

Hey Ken: Don't go. I'll pick it up.

Hey Ken: Darling. Read my messages.

Hey Ken: Pick up the phone.

(10) Missed Calls

Several moments ago…

Itadori already thought that today got off to a weird start.

To begin with, it wasn't Ijichi in the driver's seat to pick him up today, but Nanamin. It also wasn't the Jujutsu Tech standard vehicle, but a nice, sleek, and expensive Porsche.

"W-Woah! Nanamin!" Itadori called then. Eyes wide and bright at the polished paint that glistened in the heavy sunlight. "Nice ride!" he said giddily, running his fingers across the aerodynamic doors. Popping his head up toward Nanami's window, he said, "This must've cost you a fortune!" And he thought that Gojo-sensei spent crazily.

"It was a gift," Nanami flatly said. The boy gaped at him like a fish. But who would just give away a car like this? They had to be really close — or maybe he had saved some rich guy and he thanked Nanamin by giving him a brand new car! The boy's eyes shone. Maybe one day he could get a nice gift like — "Get in." The doors unlocked.

"Hiya, Ijichi-san! Must be nice not driving for once, huh?" While marveling at the car's clean interior, he hopped into the back seat, feeling the leather under his hands and the cool blast of the AC hit his sweaty hair after being in the summer sun.

"Good morning, Itadori-kun," the dark-haired man said with a nervous smile. The car rumbled beneath them as Nanami turned the engine back on. "Nanami-san is surely giving me a nice change of pace — "

"Our duties will not change," Nanami stated, turning the wheel. "Ijichi-san is still required to do his job, as well as you, Itadori-kun. Don't get distracted." The pink-haired boy pouted in the backseat. "It just so happens that I have urgent errands to run after this, so time is of the essence."

Turning into an alleyway, Nanami smoothly hit the brakes and put the car into park. "Let's go."

Luckily for him, the curse was a low-level one mostly used for teaching Itadori the ropes, and the two of them managed to exorcise it in record time. For someone who was just thrust into the world of curses several weeks ago, he was doing well. As well as anyone could in his situation.

The boy was still a bumbling newbie, but he had a good head on his shoulders and was a strong opponent for most curses that they dealt with on a daily basis. Lips twitching into a frown, the blond thought that if Gojo didn't poison the youth's mind, surely Yuji would continue having a nice and mature head on his shoulders.

Nanami had to drop Ijichi off at his next assignment, but other than that, all he needed was to drop Itadori off at the college and then he could return to his sick wife. Paperwork still needed to be done, but luckily he could finish that at a later time. Unfortunately, last night you had a major headache and showed signs of an upcoming sickness this morning.

He had just barely convinced you to not do remote work and just take the day off to rest instead. However, as he checked on his messages with you, he found out that you were insisting on double — no, triple mask to go to the pharmacy yourself. All while you had a 37.5-degree fever.

He tried to call you once, thrice, and all of them were left for voicemail.

Cursing inwardly, Nanami leaned his head back on the headrest. Normally, the blond man was the arbiter of restraint and level-headed thinking, but all of that went out the door at the mere thought of his sickly wife dragging herself out in the street to get some medication. Why did you have to be so stubborn?

"My apologies, Itadori-kun." Nanami pushed up his glasses. "I need to take a detour before I drop you off at your dorm. I apologize for the inconvenience."

The boy blinked owlishly. "Oh that's alri — GH!"

Without another word, Nanami quickly turned left, jolting the teen to the side from the momentum, increasing the speed of his vehicle, and raced down the streets.

Within five minutes, Itadori felt like a dog left in the car as his "owner" raced into the nearest grocery store to grab medication, vegetables, and grains for the upcoming, proverbial storm. Even as the cashier tried their hardest to ignore the intense stare of the tall blond man before them, every second that ticked by as they scanned his purchase felt like hours.

As soon as he nearly threw his money on the tray and took all of the grocery bags under his toned arms, Nanami was off again, shifting into drive and ignoring the speed limit all the way back home.

Nanami could've nearly run into his apartment's chain-link garage doors if it had lifted any slower, allowing him access to his own underground parking before he landed in his designated parking spot within three seconds.

Racing out the car, he took all of the grocery bags over one muscular arm and was prepared to run off until he remembered he had a teen in the backseat.

"Itadori-kun," he said hurriedly. "Can you — " The man stopped himself short.

He originally planned to tell the boy to wait for him in the car, but caught sight of the boy's skin gleaming with sweat, reflecting one of the garage's low lights. Summer was brutal right now, with insane humidity that made Itadori's hair damp as if he had just taken a dunk in water. Even though the parking garage was cooler than it was outside, it was still unbearably hot, not to mention cruel, if he had forced the teen to just sit here and deal with it. Itadori had already waited in the hot car when he went out to grab groceries, and although he rolled the windows down, suddenly Nanami remembered all of the articles of puppies and toddlers dying in the back of cars during the summer.

Sighing, the man pushed his glasses up. "Behave yourself. Come with me."

"Ken?" Eyes wide, you held the door open. Keys were lifted up in the air in the man's hands, but you had beat him to the chase and opened the door before he managed to get the key in the keyhole. "Oh! I didn't know that you were bringing a guest." Stepping back quickly, you realized another person was standing behind your husband. "If I had known, I would've worn a surgeon mask!" Alert, you said. "Hold on, I'll go grab one right now — !"

"No need. We'll make this fast." He was about to take a step forward, but then realized that the student hadn't moved an inch ever since you opened the door. "Itadori-kun?"

As still as a statue, pink slowly rose from the boy's neck all the way up to the tips of his ears. He couldn't rip his gaze from you for even a second. Although your hair wasn't done and your face was covered, he could tell just how beautiful you were.

Furthermore, you looked just like the pin-up models he had in his room — you were just his type! Your little chemise barely ended at the middle of your thigh, and although everything important was covered up, it left little to the imagination with how the fabric hugged your waist and hips. As you held the door open for them and leaned forward, the loose triangle top of your nightgown was teasing him with the exposed curves and valleys of your chest.

You were too hot!

"Itadori-kun," Nanami repeated, irritated.

Way too hot for Nanamin!

"Nanamin! You didn't tell me that you were married!" Eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets, Itadori almost thought they had gotten the wrong apartment when you had just opened the door. While his mentor was an attractive man, it was like a mountain and a molehill to the teenager. Not to mention that this strict and serious ex-salaryman was hitched! To a babe no less!

Certainly, you didn't marry for personality!

He couldn't imagine what your daily life was like while Nanamin talked about doing the bare minimum and never smiled.

Raising an eyebrow, Nanami followed Itadori's stare to your state of dress. You weren't even wearing your indoor slippers, and you were absolutely breathtaking even if you had a dark clay mask over your face. He wasn't an idiot, and he could feel his blood vessels pumping harshly. Trying to remind himself with mantras of how Itadori was just a stupid, hormonal teenager, and you could dress how you wanted, and that he especially couldn't beat up Itadori. Pinching his nose bridge, the man couldn't even look at the boy. "My personal life and my work life are completely separate. I wouldn't anno — !"

"But you don't even wear a wedding ring!" Itadori insisted.

"Why would I wear my rings when my daily job involves fighting and getting messy?" Nanami rhetorically asked, stepping through your door with all the groceries in one go. "Wedding and engagement rings are investments, and I'd be damned if I lose my rings and be forced to inflate the wedding ring industry any more than I already have."

Grinning, you beamed at Itadori. Only you really know how seriously Nanami took the "three month's salary on rings" tradition, especially on his sorcerer's salary. "Now you know, Itadori-kun! If you catch him committing adultery while he's out without his ring, you'll shank him for me, right?" Placing both of your hands on your husband's waist, you laughed when you playfully tried to shake him. Of course, that didn't do much. Your man continued to stand there like a stone statue, as if you tried to rock a brick wall while he remained wholly unamused.

From your weak roughhousing, all that managed to do was drop your spaghetti strap from your shoulder. With your dress threatening to slip, Nanami sighed and quickly stood in front of you, blocking your body from Itadori's gaze. He carefully and slowly pulled your shoulder strap back up your body before you managed to flash the poor teen. When you looked up, his brown eyes met with yours.

Gently rubbing your bare shoulder with his large hand, he asked, "I thought you said you were going to Matsukiyo?"

"I was," you rasped out, voice raw from all the coughing you did. "But then I took one step outside and it was too damn hot." Laughing weakly, you said, "I slunk back like a vampire the second the humidity hit me."

The man sighed deeply, and his shoulders dropped in relief and exhaustion. While he ran around like a chicken with its head cut off from worry, he was glad that you ended up not going out after all.

"Why didn't you pick up my calls?" he said deeply, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath on your ear.

"I was making okayu with kombu," you explained. "Sorry," you said genuinely, "that's all I managed to make for our dinner today."

"I'm upset that you cooked in the first place," Nanami scolded. "You should be resting. I said I'd take care of it. Why were you in the kitchen when the hot fumes could make your fever even worse?" Turning away from his nagging, you pouted.

"I'm hungry though…" you mumbled, far too much like a spoiled child, and Nanami was sure, in some way, that you were spoiled, of his making too. He always prioritized you and let you have your way. "And I already ate the miyeok guk you made."

"You could've ordered delivery," the man countered.

"Nothing interested me there."

Inhaling deeply once more, Nanami tried to calm the upcoming headache he felt. There was no point in arguing with you, not when you were coughing and sick like this. "Stay here. I'm going to whip up a bowl of okayu to have with your medicine," the man ordered before he picked up a blanket you had draped over one of your couches and wrapped you in it like a burrito. When you opened your mouth, your husband only sternly repeated, "Stay."

Playfully rolling your eyes when he left to go to the kitchen, you puffed out your cheeks in mock irritation. Closing the door to your apartment so the AC couldn't escape anymore, you turned to the teen who was standing awkwardly in your home.

"Aw I'm sorry," you said, voice sounding like sandpaper again. "You know, Kento's kinda strict, but I assure you he's a good man," you said gently. "Thank you so much for taking care of him."

"M-Me?" Itadori sputtered. "I'm not the one taking care of him! He takes care of me! Um…" The boy grew demure when he realized he had no way to address you.

"Oh," you realized you didn't introduce yourself. "I apologize! I totally forgot! I know you since Ken talks about you and Ino all the time, but I didn't realize you didn't know me!"

Itadori gasped. "He talks about me?!"

"Of course! All good things!" you assured. "Even though Kento seems like a meanie, he's a genuine person and wouldn't exaggerate, so he wouldn't praise you unless he absolutely meant it." You knew that this was the teen that hosted Sukuna, the King of Curses. It was a heavy burden for someone who wasn't even an adult yet, and your heart grew heavy at the thought of this boy's fate.

"Before I forget…" Quickly, you ran to your bathroom and cleaned off your clay face mask before you returned with your bare face wet and a cloth Pompompurin headband keeping your hair out of the way. "I need to introduce myself."

Now Itadori was sure that you two were married with the way you introduced yourself nearly identically to your husband. With your back straight and shoulders squared, hands flat, and arms straight at your side, you closed your eyes and bowed.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Itadori-kun." You acquired your business card out of thin air and held it out for the boy. "My name is Nanami [Name], and I'm a senior project manager at Yurukawa Corp. If you or your friends ever get tired of exorcising curses and want to look into engineering, you can ask me!"

Huh?

It was too silent.

When you rose and looked up, you realized that your husband had suddenly materialized out of nowhere. Standing in between you and Itadori, your husband's stern expression could freeze hell over as he stared down at Itadori with a frown, arm outstretched and his hand held up — right where Itadori's eyes would've seen your cleavage when you bent over to bow.

"Itadori-kun."

"Y-Yes!"

"We are going. Now."

The car was completely silent the entire way to the dorm rooms. Quickly shifting the car into park, Itadori jumped at the sudden stop.

No one said a word. The entire ride felt like the air was heavy enough to drown in.

"Itadori-kun." Nanami's eyes were hidden by the reflection in his glasses.

"…Yes?" the boy squeaked out, pressing his index fingers together.

"Never ogle my wife again."

[alternative-ffa]

TRAPPED - Part One

You thought you were mobile. Years of living on your own, and no access to a scale that could weigh you... you were sure you were only 550lbs; maybe 600. You splurged on a bariatric scale years ago, but it only went up to 500lbs. So, you just had to guess what your weight was once the scale became inadequate.

Your bedroom had been moved to the living room years ago, once the doorways in the hallway became too tight for you to squeeze through. Your full bathroom was one of those doors... and you felt the annoyance of not having access to a shower. You were lucky there was a half bath with a barn style sliding door that you could squeeze though to at least use the toilet... not that the toilet was built for your size. You jury-rigged encyclopedias by each side of the toilet, so they could help hold your weight. Your fat fell to each side of you, and these old books helped take the heaviness of your huge belly and rear end, so the toilet didn't crack.

Almost everything in your home was adapted to your extreme obesity. Once you realized that you could no longer squeeze your fat body through your bedroom door, you were smart enough to order a bariatric hospital bed for your living room.

The day it was delivered and set up was an embarrassing one. You never felt embarrassed by your size when you were alone (which was most of the time). But standing there, with your cane to steady your body, watching them bring the bed in... dealing with stares from the delivery men... it was not your finest hour.

You were grateful for the bed. It increased your ability to be comfortable in your home. But it didn't fix the loneliness. You are only 38 years old, and yet you felt as though you're 60+... no family, no friends who visit... you are alone.

Nights are the hardest. It's when you dreamt of love. Of a beautiful woman who would enjoy your company. You don't need someone to enjoy your body... in fact, you feel that that would be impossible. So you just want to settle for someone who would love you despite your morbid obesity. Each night you dream of that ideal, and each morning you get punched in the face with your reality.

You have no idea that there are women out there who would do anything for intimacy with a beautiful man as fat as you. In fact, you are so uninformed that you have no idea women like that exist. You've given up on the possibility of intimacy.

Your life suddenly changed. You rolled yourself out of bed, like usual; your fat feet touching the floor. Using your cane, you lifted yourself to a standing position. Once you were standing, you had no problem waddling into the kitchen. At least, this was the usual daily procedure. But this particular day was not to be easy.

You filled a pot with water, preparing to make pasta. Standing by the stove, suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your left ankle. You had a high pain tolerance, but this was too much. You gripped the counter to try and stay standing, but there was no hope... and you succumbed to the pain and fell to the floor.

You wanted to shout for help... realizing that you had no ability to get off of the floor. But no one could hear you. You are alone.

Days passed. The only reason you stayed alive was the pot of water you had filled before the fall. On day 2, you used all your energy and strength to grab it, knowing that it would be a long time before help arrived. You rationed the water. Taking sips every now and then.

You couldn't reach your phone, you couldn't call for help... so you hoped that the mailman would notice that the mail was piling up.

You were lucky your mailman was aware that you were a shut-in. After 3 days of mail piling up, he called for a wellness check.

You were weak, embarrassed and ashamed. But you felt a tinge of relief when you heard emergency services at your door... "Hello? Do you need help?"

You screamed, "please! I'm in here!"

You heard them pounding the door down. Although you knew you needed help, you didn't want your front door damaged; but it was too late.

Emergency personnel poured into your home. They found you, laying in your own waste in the kitchen, trapped on the floor where you've been for 3 days.

You disassociated the whole time they were there since it was the only way your mind had to protect yourself: hazmat teams cleaning the floor AND you; male nurses and EMTs using inflation lifts to help you into a standing position. You couldn't stand. Your ankle was broken. It took eight men to help you back into your bed.

You resisted the reality of being too fat to move. But with your ankle, it was a reality you had to confront.

Once you were in your bed, they informed you that a doctor would be by the next day. Then they left. You were trapped: alone, lonely, and discouraged. Knowing your ankle was broken, and you'd have to wait at least twelve hours to be seen by a doctor, you cried.

The sun rose like usual the next day. You used to enjoy the light coming through your window... but now, you felt anxiety. A knock on the door caused your heart to skip a beat in your chest.

A female nurse and a older male doctor entered. You hadn't seen a woman in years, and for the first time in a long time, your dick stood at attention. You blushed, feeling your penis throbbing under the fat of your crotch. But you knew you were too fat for anyone to notice, even if they had lifted your belly.

An erect penis on a man as fat as you can only be described like a throw pillow with a button in the middle. Your dick was the button... barely seen beneath the fat pad. You thought you were impotent; but gazing at a beautiful woman proved you wrong.

The doctor spoke, but you barely listened. Another man walked in with a gigantic scale. You could only watch as they set it up and tried to convince you to stand. They knew your ankle was broken, but finding out how much you weighed was quite important. Being held up by two strong men, they had your good foot on the scale and slowly released their hold to get an accurate measurement.... you watched in horror as the numbers climbed... 500, 600, 700.... then it settled at 825lbs. You gasped. Tears began to fall. You weren't sure if it was because of the pain, or if it was because you had no idea you had gotten that fat. You were sure you were only 550... maybe 600. So seeing the numbers climb to 825lbs instilled absolute terror.

The doctor and nurses left the room once they had you back in your bed. You could hear them talking, but couldn't make out what they were saying. You heard the front door open and close and the voices dissipated; then the clicking of high heels on the floor became louder and louder until the female nurse was by your side.

You weren't sure how to react. This was the woman who caused your dick to stand at attention. You tried to pretend you weren't aroused. She had long black hair, bright hazel eyes. Even making eye contact with her made you look away immediately. She smiled at you... a kind smile, implying she was there by choice.

But you refused to believe it. No one would spend time with you by choice. So you fought any kind of attention she gave you.

Laying in your bariatric bed, she pulled a chair over from your dining room. She placed it next to your bed and sat; still smiling kindly at you. You didn't know what to say. You spent the last five years alone, and had no practice in speaking to another person. For her, silence felt awkward, so she spoke: "I'll be here with you for my shift; so the next twelve hours. I hope this is okay."

You wanted to say, "I'd love the company. I don't have visitors. I think you're beautiful. I haven't seen a woman in ages..."

But instead, you grunted in acknowledgement.

The silence felt deafening. She spoke, "is there anything I can get you?"

You hesitated; breathing deeply, you said, "Would you mind getting me a drink? I have some whiskey in the cabinet... maybe two shots and an ice cube?"

She smiled at you again and said, "Sure."

You watched as she stood from the chair and turned towards the kitchen. You couldn't help but stare at her body as she walked away. She was thin and thick in all the right places. You couldn't help but stare at her rear... perfect childbearing hips that caused a primal arousal in you. Your dick throbbed again beneath your fat. It was an experience you hadn't had in years. There was nothing that could arouse you when you were alone: which was all the time. You couldn't tell whether you were pleased that your manhood worked, or disappointed.

Finally feeling arousal for the first time in years was pleasant at first, until you realized that it was all for nothing. You were too fat for sex... not that you felt there could possibly be any opportunity for that kind of intimacy with her.

She returned with your drink, and to your surprise, she had a drink of her own. She sat next to you and said, "I hope you don't mind if I join you." As she lifted her glass.

You felt joy. For only a moment. You tried to avoid eye contact so she wouldn't pick up on your arousal....

To be continued...

[hongism]

THIS WORLD. - k. hongjoong (m)

➼ genre; smut (some minor angst and fluff) ➼ pairing; hongjoong x fem!reader ➼ au; outlaw!hongjoong, dystopian futurism, lore accurate ateez ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 4.5k

What he’s given you is essentially one chance and night. Nothing more and nothing less.

part of the outlaw miniseries.

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➼ smut warnings; piv, unprotected sex, oral: f, creampie, light choking/asphyxiation, dirty talk, breast/nipple play

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Cool night air brushes across your cheeks as you set foot on the roof, eyes already scanning your surroundings in the hopes of finding what you’re looking for here. Of course, it doesn’t take much — Hongjoong is a hard man to miss unless the government officials are looking for him, in which case he has an uncanny ability to make himself totally invisible in a crowd.

There are no crowds up here though; just you, him, and the night to keep you company.

You see him clearly across the stretch of roof that’s accentuated by gaudy neon signs and other electrical components that keep the bar below powered.

“Closed up shop for the night,” you offer as a means of greeting the man. He’s donned his usual dramatic regalia tonight as well, complete with the patterned bandana pulled up over his nose and the ridiculous cowboy hat he fetched out of a dumpster several months back. It matches the vibe of the bar, he had told you and Mingi. While you weren’t on board, Mingi was more than a little eager to pull together a similar outfit for himself. “Everyone else went home.”

K-Hot Chilli Peppers. When you saw the job listing online, you had laughed at the name before realizing that it’s only half as ridiculous as many of the other bars in Night City, and you weren’t about to be picky given that you were desperate to find a place that lets you actually use your tender’s license on the daily. Upon being hired, you were promptly told to not ask questions when two rugged outlaws came through the doors and went up to the roof without pause. Answers came on their own, naturally and over time as you peeled back the seemingly endless layers to the two vigilantes who had set up shop in your new place of employment.

Whatever the circumstances and however the stars aligned that night you saw the job listing, it all boiled down to this: standing across from Hongjoong on the rooftop under the stars with this magnetic sort of pull towards the man. A pull you shouldn’t even think to entertain mostly because you’d like to keep your job and also a little bit because you’d like to keep your life.

Hongjoong got a message today. You know that much because you saw the small moped buzz by in front of the bar after all the customers left, and though you don’t know who that delivery driver is, you know he always brings something more than crappy takeout. The most convincing piece of evidence came in how Mingi promptly stormed out of the bar without so much as a goodbye twenty minutes later, and now here you stand up on the roof with the last man standing not long after. You aren’t here to ask questions as that wouldn’t be in your right (fairly so).

“I’m gonna close up and lock everything, if you’re done?” you continue pressing when Hongjoong fails to say anything back to you. He turns, gaze sharp as it finds you across the rooftop. The next moment, he pulls his bandana down to rest around his neck and exposes his handsome face to you.

“We’re not gonna be around much longer.”

You pull your lips together and do your best not to frown. “They won’t know you were ever here.”

“They’re gonna come looking here. And they’re gonna rip the place apart trying to find us.” Hongjoong takes slow steps in your direction as he speaks, tone low and quiet as though trying to either threaten or warn you. You don’t think he has a need for either. “When they come knocking, it’s not gonna matter what you do know or what you don’t know. Just being affiliated by name is enough of a crime.”

“Business is too good to be knocked down by a little police search.”

Hongjoong sinks his teeth into his lower lip. The light from the neon signs bounces off his face and casts crude little shadows across the roof. He looks far too worried for your liking, almost like there’s a semblance of care in the man, which was not part of the plan. You think you’re the one to blame for that, considering how you can’t simply leave well enough alone and have to express some modicum of care for those around you, including the vigilante outlaws that frequent your workplace and stay after hours. And well, all these months that have passed in this comfortable routine have made the heart grow fonder in many ways.

You’re quite fond of him, you think, and maybe those feelings are reciprocated to some extent.

The sky is clear tonight, free of clouds but the lights and pollution from the city obstruct the stars somewhat even now. Curfew is about to begin, but there’s no chance of you making it home before the drones start patrolling the streets. You could have left thirty minutes ago — should have most likely, but that chance is well and gone now.

“We leave tomorrow. I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

When is merely code for if, and you’re not dumb enough to think otherwise. If he survives whatever obscene plan he’s ready to deploy, you’re positive that Hongjoong won’t come back or set food near the bar again, even as a hideout. Men like him don’t stick to one place for long, especially not when their heads are full of grandiose plans of anarchy and destruction. You don’t blame him for it, but it does make your heart ache a little more than it should.

Your shoes skid across the stone of the roof as you cross the distance between you and him. It breaks the silence you’ve presented as an answer to him, and Hongjoong’s eyes grow wider as you turn the space into an afterthought. Shaky hands find their way around Hongjoong’s shoulders then come to clasp behind his neck.

“Tell me you’ll survive,” you plead to the night air between your lips.

“Of course I will,” he answers without hesitation, whether a lie or a truth he is willing to truly stand by and believe. You don’t ask that he tell you he’ll return here; some dreams are a bit too far-fetched.

When your hands begin to fall away from him, Hongjoong dips his chin and slots his lips over your parted ones. You scramble to regain your hold on him, fingers stretching up to tangle in the dark blue strands of hair on the back of his head just below where his hat sits. The pressure against your mouth is faint to begin with, something small and searching as he tests the waters and waits for your response. As though pulling him closer and nearly kissing him moments ago wasn’t enough of a confirmation for whatever this is.

“This is all I can give you,” he exhales into your mouth, and you press another heated kiss against his lips. I don’t need more than this. This is enough. This is all I could ask for from someone like you. It would be nice if you could ask for more but this is all the greed you can bear. His hands wander from your hips up to the hem of your shirt that sits against the loops of your jeans. The first contact of his fingertips on bare skin hits you like a bucket of ice water and sends goosebumps all across your body.

“Hongjoong,” you say against his mouth as he palms his way down to your thighs. He does well to quiet whatever thoughts are rushing through your head right now with his lips, breaking from yours to mouth along the line of your jaw. The force of his body moving against yours is enough to push you back, and you fall into step with him in an almost haphazard sort of way. Your back hits the wall soon after, right beside the door you just came out of minutes prior, and now Hongjoong has you pressed against the concrete with a knee slipping between your thighs. “Hongjoong.”

“You can’t stay here.” The blunt tips of his painted nails dig into the flesh above your jeans. A gasp tumbles from your lips as he licks over a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, and it makes your knees buckle in turn. “I can have two of my men transport you to a different area of the city in the morning. Earlier the better. We won’t be enacting any plans under the sun’s gone down.” You busy yourself with the buttons keeping his shirt around his body.

“No.”

He pauses where he is, halfway to removing your shirt from your torso, and looks you in the eye. You abandon his shirt in favor of clasping both hands around his cheeks.

“I’m not going anywhere because you’re going to come back to me and get me yourself.” Rather than denying your wistfulness, Hongjoong offers a half-smile and a breathy laugh, one you share in yourself before pulling his face back up to your own. You taste his lips again, but this time you pay more attention to it, the hint of spice on his tongue as he pushes past the seam of your mouth and explores you further. Your hands are busy with his shirt once more under the urging of your eagerness to have him. He responds in kind by hiking your shirt up over your chest and dragging the blunts of his nails down over the exposed skin on his path to your pants.

“Let me go down on you?” Your chest tightens at the proposition and at the way his voice sounds inexplicably strained from the mere thought of tasting you.

“Take this stupid shirt off first, for fuck’s sa—” Frustration wins the battle against his clothing, and Hongjoong leans away from you with a clear, resounding laugh that makes your stomach turn to mush. You ought to kick yourself in the side of the head for not acting on the blatant chemistry dancing between the two of you before now. Still, if this truly is a one-and-done thing, you’re going to do the absolute most to make it worth it. And maybe a bit unforgettable for both of you. Hooking your fingers under the handkerchief still tied about his neck, you pull Hongjoong close once again. He rushes to brace his hands on either side of you, his shirt still dangling from where it remains tucked into his ridiculous faux leather pants. His mouth goes straight for your neck, pulling the skin between his teeth and sucking so harshly at it that you feel tingles rush up to your skull. Your whine is music in the distant noise of the city, softly exhaled against the side of his head and disturbing the hair behind his ear. His hat is beginning to get in your way now too, especially as he kisses a path down to where he left your shirt. You catch the brim just before he goes lower, stripping it off his head with the hand you have draped around his shoulders. When he looks up at you from between your breasts, you smile, close-lipped but with an arched brow meant to tease further.

“The amount of filthy, heinous jokes on my mind right now,” he groans, head dipping forward to rest against your chest.

“If you make any sort of cowboy joke I’ll make sure you finish in your hand and nowhere else.” The threat is halfhearted of course, but it makes Hongjoong laugh in that obscenely pretty way again and you revel in the sound as he frees your breasts just enough to have access to them. Your nipples are already hardened peaks thanks to the simple touches from earlier, but the cool air stiffens them even further before Hongjoong has the chance to pull one into his mouth. Your back curls up off the wall, Hongjoong pinches your right nipple, and at the same moment, he pushes you back to the wall with enough force to punch a moan out of you.

“F-Fuck, Hongjoong.” You’re suddenly rather grateful to have something to hold onto because otherwise you would be digging your nails into your palms and making yourself bleed. As it is, you might run the risk of ruining Hongjoong’s treasured hat with how tight you’re gripping it at present. Your other hand sits on his bicep, atop the black-lettered inking that dances across his arm and reminds you that this man in your arms is one of a kind. You wonder, far and away in the back of your brain, how many have had the pleasure of being in your current position. He disperses those runaway thoughts mere seconds later; his hand sneaks down from its perch cupping your breast and locks onto the button keeping your pants together. The resulting lewd and wet pop! that comes from him pulling his lips away from your nipple makes your neck heat up.

“Bet I could make you cream your panties without even getting in your pants,” he quips as the button comes loose. Deftly, he works the zipper down in the same smooth movement.

“Who are you trying to impress, cowboy? You’ve already got me for the night.”

The muscles in his neck strain as he laughs and tilts his chin to the side, and your breath hitches watching him sink to his knees between your legs. Hongjoong folds his fingers around your wrist — the hand that currently holds his hat by the brim — and slowly, he guides you to place it back where it belongs atop his head.

“There. Now you can call me that again.” You can’t hide the unsteadiness of your breaths from him like this, even though he’s currently occupying his focus with stripping you of both jeans and underwear in one go. You brace a hand over your heart just to make sure it's still part of you despite racing like you’ve just run a marathon. Hongjoong’s lips skate against the inside of your knee when he lifts your ankle and carefully pulls the boot from your foot. Fabric follows suit quickly, then he commits to the same routine for your other leg — complete with the ghosting kisses and soft drags of his nails over the bare skin of your thighs. The growing pit of arousal in your stomach is so heavy that you think it might simply drip out of you the moment he touches your folds.

“Hongjoong,” you whisper. His kisses climb to the inside of your thighs, close enough to exhale heated breath across your pussy, but he doesn’t push further than that. Content to sit between your legs in the lewdest of positions and stare up at you through fluttering lashes.

“That’s not what you called me.” Hongjoong grins, cheek brushing against your thigh so close to your sex that your muscles twitch. “Maybe I’ll consider it—” he enunciates the word particularly harshly “—and do whatever you’d like?”

“You’re so — ugh, I want you to eat me out,” you mumble into the cradle of your hands, hardly able to look down at the man and be expected to speak like a normal functioning human being in this sort of predicament. He’s silent in return. “Cowboy.”

The veil of seriousness drops at that, and you’re the first to laugh at the sheer absurdity of calling him such a thing right now. Hongjoong can’t seem to keep himself together either, huffed laughter spilling out of him in turn.

“I wasn’t serious about you calling me that, y/n, I was just teasing. But I guess you want it pretty damn bad, huh?”

“Shut up!” Your tone contorts into a cracked gasp as Hongjoong wraps a hand back and around your thigh and spreads your legs over his face. Your hand flies to cover your mouth — something done out of pure instinct — and the man beneath you is quick to tut his disapproval.

“Let me hear you, pretty. I don’t want you covering anything up.”

“I-It’s the middle of the night,” you argue through your fingers.

“And? Wake the whole damn city if you have to, I want you to cry on my cock.”

You let your hand fall away and come to rest atop Hongjoong’s head (his hat, rather). Your view of what he’s doing is entirely obscured except for the slightest glint of his eyes when he tilts his chin against your cunt. You can’t seem to tear your gaze off of him regardless, lips parted and quivering as he presses his tongue between your folds and takes his first taste of you. The tension in your gut is wound into a knot so tight that your eyes burn and sting at the corners. Hongjoong takes you into his palm, onto his tongue, and into his deft fingers, and unravels you gloriously.

Two fingers dip lower and press against your entrance. He teases you with the pad of his middle finger only, toying with your hole and pushing into you ever so slightly before retracting to circle your clit with his tongue. He can’t run his mouth as he very much loves to in this position, but you’re finding that he makes use of his mouth in other more devilish ways, another talent he keeps tucked under his belt that you’re reaping the benefits from.

You can’t think of the last time you got laid, and trying to think of the last good fuck you had would be an even taller order. To imagine when a man last ate you out with actual passion and not simply as a means to an end might be impossible, or perhaps Hongjoong is simply keen on blowing every last sexual experience you’ve had out of the water in one go. When his fingers finally, at long last, stretch you open, you cry out with a moan so loud that it would be a miracle if no one heard it.

“Gonna make you taste yourself on my lips, pretty. Make your little cunt cream all over my cock until I fill you up with cum.” You jerk Hongjoong’s head almost violently, a sharp response to the way his fingers curl against your walls, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest from the task at hand. He pulls your clit between his lips and sucks until your knees give out under you. It sends his fingers deeper into your cunt in the same motion, nearly making you come undone.

“T-Too much, too much, Hongjoong, it’s — fuck, fuck, ah!” You fold in on yourself, free hand moving to press against your stomach as the pressure in you reaches an unbearable degree. Hongjoong works his fingers in and out of you at a steadily increasing pace and almost seems to be making a game of the way he curls them each time he flicks his tongue against your clit just for another moan to climb out of your throat. Each sound is more broken than the last, sweat beads on your forehead, and you think there’s a euphoric end in sight just for him to pull away without warning. Your walls clench tight around nothing as his fingers are now gone from you and sucked between his own lips. Dazed and frustrated, you pass an incredulous stare his way just for him to grin back at you, tongue teasing the vee between his fingers.

“Hm? Did you want something?”

“I—” Hongjoong eases your body back against the stone wall and hoists one of your legs around his hips. Your cunt is still tense and pulsing to the rhythm he spent all that time building. “If you don’t get inside me right the fuck now, Kim Hongjoong, so help me—”

He makes good on his promise to have you taste yourself on his lips. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth as well, eager to tangle with yours and push your arousal onto your own taste buds. You delight in the fervor with which he kisses you, and in the sound of his belt jingling because it means more pleasure is on the horizon. You feel a hand against your hip, and that’s the only real warning you get before he’s pushing the length of his dick into your pussy and burying himself to the hilt in you. You scramble to grab hold of him somehow. It’s a slight miracle that you don’t bite both his and your own tongues in the process because you cry out into his mouth. Your moan remains unbroken even when he pulls your mouths apart and rushes to cradle the back of your head before you whack it harshly against the concrete behind you. There’s not a second to catch your breath in Hongjoong’s mind; his other hand is busy at work, and he presses the pad of his thumb into your clit. He rubs once, twice, three times before you unravel on his cock.

“You’re so tight, fuck, if you could feel yourself, your cunt is so tight.” There are stars behind your eyelids, clearer than the ones in the sky, and Hongjoong begins to rock his hips up into yours as the weight of your orgasm barrels down on you. “You feel so good on me, pretty. Fuckin’ made for my cock, yeah?”

“Yeah, y-yes, yes, yes.” Your voice cracks at the tail end of your agreement. It turns into something more akin to a sob than a moan. Hongjoong’s pace is relentless in every regard. The lack of pause doesn’t let your body come totally undone or relax, still wound tight around your previous orgasm to the point where it feels like it won’t end.

“Keep taking it, lovely, I won’t be able to pull out with you squeezing around me like this.”

Whining, you drop your head to the side, chin coming all the way down to your shoulder. Hongjoong snakes his hand around to your neck and braces his index finger and thumb on either side of your jaw. Your head lolls in tune with the way he moves you and without resistance — every ounce of strength in your muscles has melted into goo in his hands. When he presses you back to the wall, your breath hitches. The sensation of his fingers at your neck has you feeling floaty and a bit detached from your body in the most pleasant way imaginable. His thrusts jerk your body enough to offer more pressure against your neck every so often but it’s not as persistent as you wish for it to be.

When you reach between your bodies and clasp your fingers around his wrist, Hongjoong seems to think that you want him to pull away because his grip loosens instantly.

“More,” you grit out, yanking his hand harder into the column of your neck. The steady rhythm he’s found falters momentarily for him to resituate his grip, but once he’s settled back into it, each thrust comes with a delightful headiness as your breath becomes shorter.

“’m close,” he announces. He shifts a hair to look down between your bodies and watches his length disappear into you a few more times before pulling his focus back up to your face with a groan. “Gonna cum in you, pretty, you’re still so tight.”

“Wanna cum with you, t-touch me again,” you pant, licking your lips between each phrase, “please.”

Despite his own shaky hands, Hongjoong reaches down to where his cock pumps in and out of you. He finds your clit with ease and rolls two fingers over it in a similar rhythm to his thrusts, pace only growing as he races towards his finish with you in tow. His motions fail as he orgasms, but the sudden feeling of his cock twitching inside your walls and pumping you full of hot cum pushes you over the edge with him. You almost don’t even feel it with all the sensations hitting you at once, and Hongjoong’s body falls against yours so harshly that your moan is positively unholy.

His hands keep roaming — tracing every inch of skin he can reach like he wants to commit it all to memory, and you simply let him do as he pleases because it feels good and it feels damn good to be wanted by this man. He pulls you towards a different section of the rooftop with your pants and underwear in hand. When he tugs you down to the messy pile of blankets that he and Mingi leave up here for particularly cold nights, you don’t even complain either. He lays himself down atop you, easing between your legs and caging you in with elbows pressed to concrete on either side of your head.

Hongjoong kisses you softly, and you smile against his lips. He finally settles down beside you after a few more exchanged kisses. His hat gets put aside with the other stray pieces of clothing — including his shirt that he’s finally decided to rid himself of far after the fact. The aftermath is peaceful, if a bit hazy as your brain still feels a jumbled mess of putty, and the stars above are bright.

“I’ll have someone pick you up in the morning to take you over to my men. The bar won’t be safe for a few weeks minimum. They can give you some cash to help cut your losses in the meantime too.”

“Okay,” you answer quietly. Beside you, his hand searches the blankets for your own. You let his fingers tangle with yours and squeeze until it hurts.

“Just don’t let Wooyoung try to convince you to buy into any scheme he might come up with.”

“Who?”

“Trust me, he’ll let you know who he is.” Hongjoong laughs at his own comment but falls into silence when he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Come back for me please.”

Hongjoong is quiet beside you for several lingering seconds, then he leans across the empty space and kisses your temple.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

You believe him.

────────────

please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!

this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass 9 pt 1

masterpost

The first thing Danny did when he woke up was blink to focus on his breath. Nothing was visible. He vaulted up from his sprawl across the couch and prowled around the apartment, unnerved.

It felt like someone was here, or had been here. It was subtle, but there was a ghostly touch in the area. There shouldn’t be. He had confirmed that no one was haunting this building before they moved in. City ghosts tended to stay in their personal environment, whether that was sitting on a recliner in the apartment they’d died in or forever running a route in a ghostly version of the delivery van they’d worked in for decades. 

He investigated in increasingly paranoid detail, even daring to flick on a bit of smuggled Fenton tech to wave around in search of ecto.

“Whoever came by is gone,” Danny admitted. He stood in the middle of the dinky open plan apartment for a while feeling lost. Then the energy rush left him. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched a little, trying to work up a little bit of enthusiasm for the day. 

It was a Friday morning, not quite 5 am. Damn. He’d really adjusted his sleeping schedule. Jazz would be back from her overnight shift soon.

“I should make her breakfast,” Danny said, half-heartedly hoping that saying it aloud would magically compel and energize him. It didn’t. He eventually shuffled to the kitchen nook, pushed by duty and not any kind of internal motivation.

Jazz was the only one with a semi-legit identity. They hadn’t been able to pay for papers for both of them. Even though he was making the bulk of their money, they were pretty sure that Jazz needed some kind of legal justification for her income. 

Employment options were limited. Without qualifications, she was pretty much only looking at customer service, where hundreds of people would see her face every day. That was a nerve wracking prospect when they were hiding. They were serious enough about restarting that they had both trashed their lifelong career dreams. Jazz was studying friggin’ bridges and whatever, civil engineering. Danny didn’t even know what he would do when it was his turn to get a formal education.

So. Obviously. Standing in front of hundreds of people daily was not the best option for their desired level of anonymity.

Luckily, Gotham had a shitty fast food chain where the gimmick was that the employees were in costume. So Jazz had crammed her class load into Monday-Thursday and she worked overnight Thursday to Saturday nights every week, serving burgers up in a full face mask as a Black Bat. 

He decided to start with coffee. That might help.

Danny filled the water tank, put a filter in, and poured coffee beans in. Then he groaned, took the beans out, and resentfully put them into the dumb hand grinder. He put the powder back into the filter, pressed the button, and watched as nothing happened.

It took a while to notice that nothing was happening.

Jazz came home at 5:22, bringing with her a cloud of fry oil scent. He vaguely heard the door unlock and her kick off her shoes. She paused when she saw the disassembled coffee maker on their table. The old Jazz would have scolded him for making a mess where they ate. The high school version of her would have sighed about the mess.

The exhausted food service version of Jazz took it in stride. “I grabbed food,” she said. “Come on, couch.” She opened a cupboard door and took something out on tiptoes before shutting it near-silently. She put the food down to duck into the bathroom and take out her brown colored contacts.

Danny grunted. A few seconds later her words reached his brains. He blinked. “Right. Thanks,” he said belatedly. He put down his tools and washed his hands. “Should I grab utensils?” he called. He heard the sound of relief as Jazz sat on the couch, off her aching feet. 

“Yes, please.”

He yanked open the drawer, unintentionally making things clatter. Danny winced at the volume and picked out two forks. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and headed over to see what Jazz had brought home. 

She had two styrofoam boxes, clearly from a diner and not Batburger. Fair enough. They were both sick to death of their menu. 

Danny’s box had two pancakes, scrambled eggs, and a side of bacon. He glanced over to see that Jazz had the same thing with sausage instead of the bacon. The syrup was already on the coffee table.

The smell hit him like a freight train. Suddenly, Danny was ravenous. He tore through his eggs and bacon and then went for the syrup, drowning the pancakes. When he was done he put the box down with a sigh of relief and looked over to see that Jazz was slouching, hand thrown over her face. “Long day?” he asked.

Jazz groaned. “Leave me to die,” she begged. She slumped a little more, encroaching into his half of the sofa. Her dull brown hair coiled on the sofa cushion, dryer than it had ever been back in Amity.

Danny took the hint that she wanted the couch. He gathered up their trash and went back to the kitchen. He worked as quietly as he could on the coffee machine and wished his sister was home and awake more. 

If life was just like this, sort of hard but the two of them pulling together, it would be kind of…nice. There was a domestic fantasy element.

But the outside world was going to intrude. Danny put the coffeemaker together and then set it to run. While it worked, he went to the shitty plastic dresser that held his work clothes and changed into his underlayer of t-shirt and soft jogging pants. He stuffed a heavy jacket and thick jeans into a plastic bag and then put that in his work bag. He didn’t want to be late for work. Like, really didn’t want to be late for work. His supervisor coming to find him and meeting Jazz had featured in more than one nightmare. The people he worked for were just plain scary. Danny zipped his bag shut and then poured the entire pot of coffee into his thermos for the day. 

“I’m going,” he called quietly, on the off chance that Jazz was still awake. And then he left to see what the local gang needed built this week.

[astaroth1357]

The OM Cast as Househusbands

Inspired by my recent rant about domestic Solomon.

Contents: Pure fluff and unhinged roasts.

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer

A-tier. Generally a solid choice skill-wise.

Cooks decent, cleans well, budgets FANTASTICALLY, has a good list of connections/spells for all home repair, and even has a stern (but caring) parenting-style if so desired.

In short, Lucifer can run a house very well. He practically already does! Hope you like having a big, extended family because the brothers are coming with.

Really, the biggest downside to Lucifer is that you'll be constantly worried that he's bored... Man can run a house and then some. He probably has the daily chores done by noon, and then what?

He just has so much extra potential, is what I'm saying. Very "big, beautiful bird in a cramped cage" energy. But then again, maybe making him chill the fuck out and have a low-maintenance lifestyle for once is better for his blood pressure in the long run. Your call.

Mammon

B-tier. He ain't perfect, but he can learn quick.

If you can give Mammon anything, it's that he's a capable guy when he wants to be. He may not be good at cleaning up, cooking, or anything like that on his own, but with some encouragement...?

Big improvements made practically overnight! Shower him in praise and "thank you's" for every little thing he does and he'll start get greedy for it. Then he'll do even MORE around the house and he gets better each time.

Show him how to cook what you like, and he'll never forget. Remind him to fold up the laundry, and he'll get it done. Praise him for keeping the floors clean, then suddenly he's nagging YOU about tracking dirt on the carpet...

And he'll get so proud about it too... Like, he's your first man and you NEED him now. What would you ever do without him?? Now hand over your shirts because he has some ironing to do, dammit!!

The only downside is you'll have to handle the finances... The words "Mammon" and "budget" go together about as well as "grainery" and "match." He'll blow through it and then some. Earners beware.

Leviathan

Hovers around C-D tier. Levi can play the role of good househusband for a VERY particular kind of partner, otherwise he's a lost cause.

He is a surprisingly decent househusband ONLY when sufficiently motivated and playing out his "domestic slice-of-life" fantasies are that motivation.

He can cook (anime-inspired dishes), he can clean (if you convince him to treat the house like he does his figurine collections), he can even sew/mend (though the majority of what he makes may be cosplay related)!

He won't leave the house to shop, but deliveries are fine. He also can't keep to a budget that doesn't include a MASSIVE chunk carved out to maintain his otaku lifestyle. He'll throw a fit otherwise.

Really, Levi's biggest problem is that once those "domestic fantasies" become mundane, he'll get bored and go back to his shows and games again.

Anyone with him would need to keep feeding into his role with new "quests" or different tropes to try out like a DM running an irl campaign. Could be fun for a little while, but it'll be too much trouble for you both long term. Best give him a skip.

Satan

S-tier. Very good choice, and he's proud of that fact.

Cooks well, very conscientious of your needs, knowledgeable on many topics from recipes to home repair, actually knows how to do laundry in a timely manner... a very good man indeed.

100% the kind of husband who sees that it's going to rain, so he treks out to wherever the hell you are to make sure you have an umbrella. Can't have you getting sick.

Get him a cat and the house will become his own slice of the Celestial Realm. He'll even text cute pics/updates on what your cat is doing like they're your literal child.

Only downside is cleaning. He's a book horder and will argue until he's blue in the face to keep Every. Last. Pamphlet. An in-house library is a MUST and expect to need expansions. Otherwise, perfect man. Much approval to be had.

Asmodeus

B-A tier. Another decent choice, just a little eccentric at times.

Asmo is that partner who will happily play the part of the trophy househusband buuut he absolutely won't do anything too strenuous or dirty.

Cooking? Totally fine! He isn't amazing, but he's not awful either. Laundry? Say no more! Your clothes will never have a wrinkle again. But cleaning...? Like the floors, attic, or ESPECIALLY the bathroom??

Nope. Nuh-huh. His cute-ass hair and his cute-ass nails in his cute-ass clothes will not stand for it! He's going to beg for a maid immediately.

I guess in exchange you'll be hosting some killer dinner parties, though! Asmo has that "suburban wife who flaunts her amazing life" energy. Also keeping his influencer game alive with tutorials galore.

In short, Asmo is willing not just to spoil you, but elevate you as well. You just need to give him a little pampering in return, kay?

Beelzebub

B-tier. Most of his problems are, predictably, food related...

Beel really, REALLY tries but you are probably never going to have a meal on time (if there's somehow any food left at all).

It isn't that he won't cooking, arguably, he spends TOO much time cooking because he'll spend just as much time eating! Or running to the store because he ate the ingredients again...

Surprisingly, though, he's actually very good at cleaning and caring for another person. That's because it's what he does for Belphie. You think the seventhborn is picking up their room AT ALL? Don't kid yourself...

Probably a good time to point out that another downside (or perk??) of husband!Beel is you also get Belphie! But he's just as spoiled as ever so... Hopefully Beel's overwhelming amazingness will make up for that.

If you like Belphie and don't mind an empty cabinet, Beel is a good choice. If not, there are better options available, I promise.

Belphegor

D-tier. Shit househusband. Doesn't even try.

Won't clean, won't cook, won't shop, can't fix, can't budget, and don't even get me STARTED on the state of the sheets!!-

He is a decorative plant of a househusband. Meant only to make the room look nicer by his presence. I've seen dogs more capable and self-motivated to maintain a household than this man will ever be.

Should you somehow get him to exert the effort, he will whine and complain the entire time. And even then, he won't do much more than put some things away and order takeout.

The only upside to Belphie is that since he's always asleep, it's not like he's making the house any dirtier. Vacuuming around his unconscious ass is home life now. At least you probably get Beel too.

Diavolo

C-B tier. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm.

So... he basically can't do anything but since he's never had to, you can cut him some slack. He loves the idea of TRYING though, so you have an eager student!

He finds cooking to be a fun challenge and he isn't terrible at it. Cleaning is a drag but he likes to see you happy. You'll have to teach anything laundry/clothes related, unfortunately, and sending him to the grocery store without a very detailed list may result in him buying an entire aisle if he doesn't know what to get.

At least he'll genuinely love to hear about your day and have the biggest smile and warmest greeting for you every time you come home. He's like a big'ol puppy, just thrilled with your existence!

(Honestly, if something has him stumped, he'll call for Barbatos to help. He'll try to hide it because he wants to show that he can do things himself, but at the end of the day your happiness wins over his pride. Now let the butler fix your plumbing.)

Barbatos

SS-tier. So good, it's literally not fair.

He's been caring for another person for centuries. He has every possible skill he would need permanently etched into his DNA. He is the Grand Master of Domestic Life that all others should strive for.

Meals are at perfect temperature by the time you sit at the table. The house is so spotless that you could eat off the broom closet. Anything that breaks gets fixed/replaced within the day. He even leaves words of encouragement in the little notes packed up with your lunch. You'll start to wonder if he's an angel who's infiltrated too deep....

Barbs also seems to have a sixth sense for whenever you've had a bad day. You come back dragging from exhaustion? You favorite meal is already cooked, the bath is ready to be drawn, and would you like a shoulder rub on top of that? Feel free to vent, he loves to listen to whatever stories you have to share!

There are only two downsides to Barbatos: the first is that you are absolutely sharing him still with Diavolo and the young master is his top concern. So sorry.

The second is that moment he gets even the hint that there may be a rat in the house, he'll nuke the place with all of your stuff still in it. So keep some traps out and keep'em fresh, yeah? You'll be fine.

Simeon

S-tier. He even comes with pre-installed parenting skills! (If you're into that kind of thing).

Simeon may not have Barbs' "live to serve" mentality, but he is truly an angel to a fault. The man already acts as Den Mother of Purgatory Hall, so what would you expect?

He cooks well enough to own his own business and you can't run a business without being good with your cash. He probably has book royalties too... Plus, he cleans up after Solomon's messy ass in canon, so-

He's gonna be that husband you take to the office party and nobody will leave you alone about him for the next week. People are going to ask if he has a brother or some shit (give them Raph's number, I dare you)

Admittedly, home repair (especially of the electronics he's guaranteed to break) should probably go to someone else. Also, he is a package deal with Luke. That child is your unspoken son now, and you'll just have to deal with that.

Otherwise, he's trophy material. Marry him and carry him over that threshold! He's worth it, truly.

Solomon

I've already ranted about Solomon here. But if you aren't aware, he's D-tier saved only by the fact that he's really trying his best.

800 year-old bachelor be like: "Oh, you're supposed to change those...? They don't smell that bad after a month."

"Of course those dishes are clean! Yes, I can see that there's still food on them, but I washed them with soap. That's what makes them clean."

"What do you mean, 'Don't set the table with beakers on date night?' Isn't this one your favorite??"

"Dinner's almost done, honey! Just let me finish clubbing this octopus!" 😁

Disaster husband. Just leave him to his delusions and get used to takeout...

[tzuberry]

me, you, and the red bracelet

pairing gunwook + gn reader details red string of fate but not rlly (?) cw blood (not graphic), trip/fall wc 1192 read time 5 mins

note i hate this bruh i cba to fix it or anything i think the entire plot of this is what’s wrong with it it just doesn’t feel right.. unfortunately

masterlist navigation

You never thought anything much of the red string bracelet your mother gave you on the day of your middle school graduation—just that it looked kind of stupid. Upon receiving it, at the unripe age of fourteen, you contemplated its purpose and why your mom couldn’t give you a shiny new Pandora charm bracelet as your friends’ parents did for them.

Nevertheless, as a relic of representation of your grandmother’s beliefs (as your dad had told you), it became difficult to take off… metaphorically. You couldn’t just disrespect a family member like that; especially one that had essentially raised you. So, the sort of odd-looking, entirely useless red string wrapped around your wrist had to stay just the way it was.

Over time, its significance, and the meaning of it, diminished in your point of view. No one in your family had taken the time to enlighten you on its real purpose, so in the end… what—who were you wearing it for?

“I think it’s cute,” your friend Eunah said one day. She had a stripe of frothed milk above her upper lip from drinking the cafe mocha she ordered, so it was hard to take her seriously. Still, it was clear what she was talking about; she slid the tip of her finger under the red string across your wrist, tugging on it slightly.

In the mid-afternoon of another unremarkable Saturday, you’d found yourselves at the nearest coffee shop to your building on campus. You had a lot of work to catch up on, and Eunah graciously offered to accompany you… but she ended up not much of a help. Additionally, she only got you wondering if you had a milk mustache identical to hers, seeing as you’d gotten the same drink.

“It’s alright,” you replied, letting out a deep breath as you continued writing with your free hand. “I’m thinking of taking it off one of these days.”

“Oh, come on,” your friend groaned. “It means something, you know,” she stated, tone almost defensive. Your best friend was big on myths, theories, and any kind of legend—she was probably about to regale you on another one, this time concerning the bracelet you wore daily. “Like, when you find your soulmate, the string will break—I’ve heard of it.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, okay.” You were never one to believe any of this, which is why you never did any of your own research regarding your red string. It’s stupid, and it looks stupid too.

“Fine. Don’t believe me then,” she said, amused and rolling her eyes. “Just… when it happens, at least tell me I was right. And that I told you so.” Eunah began to pack her things into her blue Herschel backpack, and with all your textbooks and notepads laid out on the table, you didn’t have the chance to notice that she…

She stood up, wearing her bag over both shoulders. “I’ll see you on Monday, [Name]. Text me when you leave later.”

“Mhm,” you passively hummed. “Text me when you get home.”

She nodded. “I will.” Then, she went out the door.

It’d been only a few minutes post-Eunah exit when you came to find that your advanced chem textbook was gone—just— poof. As if it hadn’t had a spot on the table earlier, as if someone had… oh. (As if someone had taken it.)

You dashed out of the cafe as quickly as you could, not minding the passers-by and their brief judgmental glances. You needed that book—your exam was on Monday. You couldn’t even begin to think about what you would do without it. And, sure, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if you weren’t able to catch up to Eunah, but it was more convenient to chase after her now than to commute to her house or assign a delivery service to bring you your textbook.

It had just so happened when your friend came into view, you… tripped. Shit. At least your arms broke the fall.

You were so certain the palms of your hands were grazed and (a very tiny bit) bloodied—so much so that you concluded it would hurt to prop yourself up to stand. Luckily, although you didn’t know it at the time…

“You alright?” a stranger asked, extending help in the form of his hand reaching for yours.

Despite your better judgment, the first thing that came to your mind had unfortunately been: he’s really, really cute. And tall. He flashed you an awkward smile, which prompted you to wonder why until he shook his empty hand in front of you—a subtle reminder that you had yet to get up from the floor.

“Oh, oh—!” you gasped, taking his offer into grasp. (Not too tightly though. Your palm was still… bleeding.) Your eyes locked onto his wrist as he helped you back up, and it’s just then that you realized it: your red string bracelet is gone.

The boy laughed. “That was a hard fall,” he said, nearly giggling in… amusement at your misfortune. He had taken his hand back before you could even hope that your blood didn’t rub off on him. His smile dropped. “You’re bleeding.”

Your red string bracelet was gone.

Your red string bracelet was gone.

Your red string bracelet was... who even is this guy?

“Hello? Are you good?” He waved his hand ahead of your face.

“[Name],” he called out. How did he know your name? (Newsflash: it was on your ID.) “Are you good?”

With half your consciousness gone due to the sole premise of your bracelet disappearing, you’d lost the ability to lead any train of thought clearly. “What’s your name?” you semi-breathlessly inquired, tilting your head and raising a brow.

He pointed to himself and asked for clarification. With this gesture, you noticed that he wore the same ID lanyard as yours. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“Gunwook.” He smiled softly.

Could Eunah really have been right? You’d just met this guy, when—

“Gunwook, can I have your number?” ... Impulse took over the rationality in you.

He broke into the widest grin you’d ever seen. He let go of your hand, which you hadn’t remotely noticed he took ahold of again, and stared at you intently as he waited for you to open your phone. You didn’t have your phone on you.

With a shake of your head, he immediately understood and pulled a pen out of his pocket. “Got paper?”

That you did. Gunwook ripped it into two, gave you one, wrote his number down first, and then lent you his pen. He wanted your number too…

“Uh, here it is.” Passing the piece of paper back to him, you pursed your lips, and the corners of your mouth came up ever-so-slightly. “Thanks. I’ll, um, go now.”

You rushed away (briskly walking) from the echo of Gunwook’s voice, ringing out with the question: “Wait! How’s your hand?”

“Good!” you yelled back.

Fortunately, when you reached the cafe again, your belongings and coffee were left untouched. There, you fished out your phone from somewhere in your backpack and called Eunah right away, planning to open with the line: “You were right, and you told me so.”

[blissfullyecho]

My 2025 Skinny Routine

1. I’m cutting back on added sugar. My ultimate goal is to keep my added sugar below 20g or 30g weekly (I have a huge sweet tooth and can easily have this in a day). Added sugar is only found in processed foods and it makes you fat and age. But I’m not giving up on sweets entirely so I’ll limit my budget to 20-30g weekly.

2. Intermittent fasting at least 16:8 daily. Fasting is such a good way for your blood sugar to regulate, your gut to actually run smoothly, burns through carbs and sugars first to then burn fat (energy), etc.

3. Skinny dinners— no carbs at night unless it was on occasion. Carbs are important to give us fuel and energy. I don’t need energy and fuel before bed in a couple of hours.

4. I’m ditching dairy and having it on special occasions like if I ate out. But I won’t have dairy or anything containing dairy in my kitchen this year. I’ll enjoy it when I’m eating out.

5. Fasted cardio. So I live in LA and since moving here, I fell in love with hiking. My job allows me to work remote so I can go on a few hikes per week in the morning. Running is also one of my favs but I would like to be outside more this year.

6. Reformer pilates. I currently go to Pilates a solid 3x a week but I’m going to increase that to 4x a week. I spend almost $800 a month for my current membership (I have unlimited mat and reformer pilates) and would actually like to take advantage of what I’m paying for.

7. I’m going to start eating breakfasts again. I’ve noticed that when I don’t have breakfast, I make crazy decisions for lunch and dinner. I intermittent fast currently from 12p-6p but I’m thinking about changing it to 9a-3p.

8. You guys are going to gag but I spend almost $2k a month in food delivery. This includes tipping, and yes, I always tip and I tip 25% because I found out Uber only pays the drivers $2 per trip and drivers have to pay for their own gas. So yes, I’m tipping and I’m not going to cut down on tipping. But I am going to cut down on the amount of times I get food delivery because I get so bloated everytime I eat out. LA has really good healthy options but I still feel nauseous after I eat out vs. when I eat from home.

9. I’m going to start reaching for fruit way more than sweets. My problem is that I will buy a bunch of produce because it’s convenient for me when I’m feeling lazy, and then it sits in my fridge getting moldy because I want Tiramisu instead. I’m going to have to train myself to grab for fruit and let the tiramisu be a weekly treat and not a daily 9pm Uber Eats delivery (although I have been good because it’s holiday season and I cut back on the junk this time of year)

10. Scale back on the red meat. I have been eating steak almost every day and I am so lethargic afterwards. I’ve never really been a crazy meat eater but lately I’ve been eating filet or wagyu daily. I even had bacon wrapped scallops last night and I hate bacon. Like I said in my last skinny post, I eat a ton of protein around this time of year but the red meat is not making me feel too hot.

This is obviously subject to change but this is what I’ve been feeling lately. I don’t care for any messages that tell me this is triggering. What this is is healthy. Having 10 burgers a week because you’re “listening to your body” is not healthy and that’s not self-love or balance. That’s 10 freaking cheeseburgers lol.

Anyway, my book The Luxe Girl’s Playbook to Life that talks about going into 2025 an upgraded version of yourself will be unavailable in 2 days from this post (11/28/24). Get yourself yours today or miss out.