#i tried to add some humor into it but...

[looselysealedkrypton]

TV shows for my followers to get to know me better 

Thanks @sonechkaandthedynamos for tagging me!! I’m very big on shows and I could blabber on about them for hours😳🤩

In no particular order (cause that is genuinely so extremely hard for me to do):

1. Parks & Recreation (imo, the best show to ever sitcom)

2. POSE (changed my life)

3. How To Get Away With Murder (I don’t do rewatches but this I will)

4. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (literally cannot imagine what life would be like without it)

5. Game of Thrones (I’m fairly sure it’s the first show I ever really got into)

If it didn’t defeat the purpose of the tag, I’d put like thirty more on here. So, instead, here are the honorable mentions: 

The Good Place, Arrested Development, Westworld, Supergirl (we all know why (hint: it’s not the writing ajashgdhasgdfah)), The Boys, Fargo, Arcane, Derry Girls, Mad Men, Fleabag. 

I’m tagging @buttplughead @claimedbytheearth (I gotta know the select few) @jackredfieldwasmyjacob @skamesp @sketchywave and whomever wants to do it too!!

[spider-stark]

LADY STRONG

Benjicot Blackwood x Velaryon/Strong!Reader

Summary - Stuck in the Riverland's on a marriage tour, you pretend to be Lady Strong when Benjicot Blackwood doesn't recognize you as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms

Warnings - none except not edited!!

Word Count - 3.1k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

As if the prospect of a marriage tour was not horrid enough, your first stop was proving to be positively dreadful.  

You had imagined the lands surrounding the Trident to be beautiful. A lush, verdant landscape—filled with fragrant herbs and bright, blooming flowers, painting the Riverlands in rich, colorful hues. You pictured babbling streams and plush grass, stunning castles and, perhaps, some equally as stunning men.  

What you hadn’t imagined, however, was the weather.  

Even from within the confines of Riverrun—the ancestral castle of House Tully—you still feel the effects of the merciless heat beating down upon the sandstone walls.  

Your handmaids had tried to dress you accordingly, stuffing you into your thinnest—and, consequently, your least regal—gown, in hopes that it might prevent sunstroke. Yet still, even as three of Lord Tully’s own servants try fanning you while you sulk in the dining hall, you feel as though every inch of your body is drenched in sticky sweat.  

“This is miserable,” you groan to Ser Lorent, the Kingsguard who had been assigned to your tour. Flanking your right, you spare the knight a pitiful, sidelong glance. “I believe I would sooner die a spinster than be forced to live in this sweltering purgatory!”  

The servants, haphazardly positioned around the table, remain utterly stone-faced, not letting on if they found your comment about their homelands to be humorous or offensive.  

Ser Lorent merely laughs. “The Riverlands are known for their humid summers, princess.” With a wink, he adds, “If you ever bothered with your studies, you would know this.”  

“I study!”  

“With the blade, perhaps,” Ser Lorent muses, his teal eyes twinkling with lighthearted mockery. “But certainly not with books, princess.  

Rolling your eyes, you slump further into your chair, your body practically melting into the upholstery. “Leave the geography lessons to Jace,” you tell him, waving an idle hand. “After all, he's the heir to the Iron Throne. I am merely the prized broodmare—” focusing on your plate, and the half-eaten lunch upon it, you try swallowing the bitter tang now filling your mouth—“a royal womb to be sold off to the highest bidder.”  

And, at times, you aren’t even sure if that is considered an honest truth… You’ve certainly never felt royal.  

Like your brothers, you were born extraordinarily plain-featured. With no silver hair or lilac eyes, you appear more like a common-born peasant than someone of prized Valyrian stock—and it didn’t help that, unlike your brothers, you had no dragon, either.  

Ser Lorent watches as you absently push a piece of seared cod around your plate, sighing. “That isn’t true, my princess.” His words are tinged with sympathy. “You are being sold to no one. Your mother wishes for you to have a marriage born of love—not duty.”  

“Ah, yes,” stabbing the fish with the prongs of your fork, you bring it to your lips, “which is why I’m being forced to spend my summer meeting with the haughty sons of fat country lords—for love.”  

His tongue clicks with disapproval. “Your mother has given you a choice in selecting your own husband, princess; which is a luxury not granted to many women.”  

Frowning, you pop the piece of fish into your mouth, turning his words over in your head.  

Gods.  

You hate it when he’s right.  

“Fine,” you relent, still chewing. Turning sideways in your chair, you raise your fork to him in a mock threat, “But my earlier statement stands! If I must take a husband, then it certainly won’t be anyone from here—lest I become no more than a puddle of sweat.”  

Ser Lorent cracks a smile at you. “Should you turn to a puddle, princess, then I vow to mop you from the floor.”  

“How valiant of you, Ser Lorent,” you laugh. “I’m unsure of how I might ever repay you for such loyalty.”  

“I’m not sure you have to worry about that, princess—I don’t believe that puddles are much concerned with matters of debt.”  

Turning back to the table, another soft laugh spills from your lips. “I suppose you’re right, Ser.”  

All too soon, however, your amusement begins to fade. A warm breeze blows in through the many open windows lining Riverrun’s dining hall, the stifling air only accentuating the stickiness of your skin.  

Sucking in a deep, heavy breath, you ask, “How long do we have?”  

Ser Lorent doesn’t ask for clarification, knowing almost at once what you were asking him. “We’re expected back in the Great Hall in a little under an hour, princess.”  

You blow the breath out, groaning slightly.  

An hour—that's all the time you had left before you would be forced back upon the dais, expected to once again smile and be cordial as men and boys from all across the Riverlands made their case for your hand.  

How many of them could possibly be left? This morning alone you had met with dozens upon dozens of them, their voices all blurring into a monotonous hum as they spoke of the history of their Houses—if one can consider nonsensical legends from the ancient Age of Heroes as true history, that is.  

Noticing the dreadful pall cast over you, Ser Lorent clamps a comforting hand on your shoulder. “How about a walk before we go back? It might help to clear your head,” he suggests. Then, with a wry grin, “Perhaps you might wish to think back on the men from this morning—see if any of them might make you change your tune about life in the Riverlands.”  

You pin him with a playful scowl. “There’s not a man alive that could change that tune,” you vow. “But you’re right—a walk might be nice.”  

Rising from your seat, the servants around you lower their fans, silently dismissing themselves.  

“Will you be accepting my company on this walk?” Ser Lorent teases—though you know what he’s really asking is: will you be accepting my protection.  

“After this morning, I believe I’ve had enough company for a lifetime.”  

The knight’s brow draws tight, an apprehensive frown beginning to pull at the corners of his lips. You roll your eyes.  

“Oh, don’t worry so much, Ser Lorent. It gives you wrinkles,” you tease. Adjusting the slit running along one side of your dress, you reveal the dagger holstered on your thigh. “I assure you that if any of these Riverlanders dare lay a hand on me, they’ll lose some fingers.”  

Ser Lorent snorts, head shaking. “It’s not you I worry about, princess,” he jokingly admits. “Just stay close by, understand? Your mother will have my head if anything happens to you.”  

“Yes, yes—understood,” you dramatically gripe, already walking past him to the exit.  

“Oh, and princess?” He calls out just as the guards pull the doors open for you to leave. You glance over your shoulder at him, brows lifted. “At least try not to injure anyone.”  

With one last roll of your eyes, bright with mischief, you shout on your way out, “No promises, Ser Lorent!”  

Wandering through the outer yards of Riverrun, the blistering sun beating down upon your skin, you find yourself overwhelmed by a sudden ache in your chest.  

You miss home. Desperately.  

You miss Dragonstone’s near-constant cover of clouds, forever shielding you from the heat. You miss the cool breeze rolling in off the Blackwater, the air peppering your cheeks with salty kisses.  

But even as you dream of a reprieve from the muggy Riverlands, you can’t help but miss your family—your brothers—most of all.  

Perhaps it is that feeling that led you here, to the training yard, guided by the familiar lull of splintering wood and steel slicing through the air, the sound offering a much-needed remedy to the homesickness twisting in your gut.  

Smaller than the one at Dragonstone, Riverrun’s yard was no more than a cramped stretch of dusty-dirt, lined with old training dummies and archery targets. Mostly encircled by the towering sun-bleached stones of the castles, only a small part of the yard remained open to the sprawling gardens beyond, sectioned off by ornate iron fencing.  

Striding over the open gate, your attention falls upon the lone boy standing in the yard's center.  

As the sunlight beats down overhead, long shadows dance around his feet as he glides through a set of movements—each step calculated, every strike deliberate.  

You step closer, keeping your steps light as you approach. With his back turned to you, you watch as sweat drips down his neck, glistening. It soaks into his tunic, the thin black material clinging to his lean, muscled back.  

He’s talented—you think, studying his form.  

Talent is something you're familiar with—intimately. You were raised around warriors—trained by the Rogue Prince himself. Yet never before had you found yourself so utterly bewitched by a fighter.  

He didn’t move like other boys.  

He wasted no time on the flowery style displayed by so many summer children—the ones who thought of battle as a performance rather than a matter of life or death.  

Instead, he moved with the lethal prowess of an apex predator—his blade cutting through the air with a controlled ferocity that, while lacking the flourish of other warriors, was undeniably impressive.  

Dirt flies as he throws himself into another set of movements—a series of strikes and parries, executing with unbelievable precision. With every twist and pivot, muscles tense and shift beneath his tunic, his body as powerful a weapon as his sword.  

He lunges forward—and wood cracks! as he slashes his blade along the belly of one of the dummies, a move that would have disemboweled a living opponent.  

Cutting through the sudden stillness, you bring your hands up to your chest, filling the yard with a slow clap. Back still turned to you, the boy's spine goes ramrod straight at the unexpected sound.  

“Impressive,” you muse, taking another step towards him. Mere feet remain between the two of you, now. “You move well—better than most, I’d say.”  

The boy spins around to face you, his once elegant movements now blundering as he nearly trips over his own feet. Biting your tongue, you try to hold in a laugh.  

Big, storm-cloud eyes meet your gaze, pinning you in place as he blinks, visibly thrown-off by your presence. “Sorry-” he stammers, out of breath. “I didn’t think anyone else would be coming out here-”  

You lift a hand, cutting him off with a smile. “Oh, no—don’t apologize on my account! I enjoyed the show,” you tell him. “Seems that you have a real talent for swordplay.”  

His cheeks flush, his lightly sun-kissed skin turning a stark crimson. “Thanks.” His laugh is a nervous, awkward thing—endearing, too. He sticks a hand out towards you, the other still limply holding his sword. “Benjicot. Blackwood,” he introduces himself, fumbling over his words, “but you can call me Ben or Benji—or anything, really.”  

You take his hand, biting your lip to mask your amusement. “Pleasure to meet you, Benji.”  

A beat of silence passes before confusion finally tugs at his features, his hand falling back to his side. “Uhm—” another sweet, awkward laugh— “and you are…?”  

Realization dawns on you, leaving your brows to shoot up to your hairline.  

Seven Hells. He doesn't know, does he?

A sudden speechlessness grabs hold of your tongue.  

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised—after all, you aren't what many expected of a Targaryen princess.

Plain-featured and dressed in thin, common clothes, you imagine you likely appear no different than the servants surrounding you at lunch, fanning you to keep the heat from going to your head.  

Even so, it's rare that you met someone who doesn't know who you are. And, selfishly, after a morning filled with insincere compliments from haughty Lord’s, you like the idea of remaining nameless—titleless—for the first time in your life.  

“Wow—sorry—that was thoughtless of me, wasn’t it?” Tapping a finger to your temple, you laugh. “I’m Mylissa,” you lie, stealing the name of one of your handmaidens. “Mylissa Strong.”  

“Strong?” He echoes, brow furrowing. “Strange—you don’t sound like you’re from the Riverlands. Your accent is—”  

“Southern?”  

Benji nods.  

“Well, I’ve spent the better part of my life in the Crownlands, so I suppose I’ve picked up their accent,” you explain. “I’m here with the princess, actually—as her lady-in-waiting.”  

The mention of the princess—you—turns his skin a pasty white.  

Keeping a tight leash on your curiosity, you try not to sound too intrigued when you ask, “And what about you? Raventree Hall is a decent ride from here, is it not?” On horseback, the ancestral seat of House Blackwood was two days away from Riverrun, if not three. “Are you here to meet with the princess?”  

Benji shifts his weight, leaning from one foot to the other. “Supposed to,” he begins, his words tumbling out, “but I don’t know—I’m not so sure that I’ll go through with it.”  

Your expression falters, disappointment washing over you like a cold wave, combatting the intolerable warmth of the sun.  

“Why not?”  

He shrugs—a timid, shy gesture that feels so unlike the predator you had snuck up on. “There are over a hundred men in there,” he waves an arm to the castle, to the Great Hall within, “all waiting for an opportunity to impress the princess—meanwhile, I can hardly get out a single sentence without choking on my own spit.”  

Your laughter bubbles up involuntarily, a few giggles spilling past your lips. The Blackwood boy shoots you a playful glare from beneath long, dark lashes.  

“Well,” you begin, absentmindedly toeing the dirt between you, “perhaps the princess might find it endearing, don’t you think?”  

Benji scoffs. “Doubtful. I mean, think about it!—she’s a princess!”  

Your eyes widen, glimmering with mock-offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”  

Once again, that crimson tinge returns to his skin, crawling up his neck, this time.  

“I meant no offense,” he defends himself, mistaking your expression for one of a Lady meaning to defend her princess. “But what could I possibly offer a princess?”  

You tilt your head, pretending to think on his words. “Well, the Blackwoods do have a history of being valiant warriors, do they not? And you seem to be quite skilled yourself,” you say, daring to let your stare drift down to his arms, the short sleeves of his tunic revealing well-muscled, sweat-slick biceps.  

He snorts. “I’m willing to guess that the princess would likely care naught for my skill with a sword.”  

“Then you would guess wrong,” you retort, a faint, teasing smile on your lips. “Many say that the princess herself is quite skilled with a blade—I imagine she would quite like a boy that’s capable of challenging her.”  

Benji’s eyes darken a shade, an unreadable expression crossing his features. “And what about you, Mylissa?”  

The false name catches you off-guard, but you do your best to hide it.  

“What of me?”  

A bit nervous, he asks, “Would you like a boy that can challenge you?”  

Your heart stutters in your chest—skipping several beats as his stare lowers, dipping past your waist and falling upon your thigh. On the dagger sheathed there, no doubt.  

Heat begins to crawl up your neck, hotter even than the sun's blistering rays. “Oh—” You stutter, words lost upon you.  

It’s true that you were used to the attention of men. After all, your morning has been filled with it, and soon enough the rest of your day will be, too.  

But this was different.  

Benji wasn’t giving you attention because you’re a princess, a mere royal womb to strengthen his House’s bloodline. Rather, he was doing it simply because he wanted to—a feeling that was utterly foreign to you.  

Wiping a clammy hand on his sweaty tunic, Benji misreads your silence, taking a half-step back. “Apologies, my Lady—that was too forward and-”  

You don’t let him finish his rambling. Taking a step forward, you close the gap he sought to create between you. “I’ll make you a deal.”  

“A deal?”  

You nod. “As you know, the princess will be in the Great Hall for the rest of the evening, holding court with the other Lord’s who’ve come for her hand. I'd like for you to meet with her.”  

Benji cocks his head, confusion crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I truly mean no disrespect to your princess, my Lady, but I was asking if you might be interested in–”  

“I know what you’re asking, Benji.” You lift one shoulder in a casual shrug. “And after you meet with the princess, if you still wish to inquire about my hand,” you say, placing a palm to your chest, “then I will happily hear you out.”  

In the distance, a bell sounds out—signaling the time, you realize.  

“If you’ll excuse me,” you start, already taking a few small half-steps backwards. “I’m expected inside.”  

Letting his sword drop to the ground, Benji lunges forward to catch your wrist. “So you agree to meet with me after court, then?”  

“If you’re still interested,” you muse, a tinge of anxiety laced through your tone, “then yes.”  

The corners of his lips twitch into a bashful smile. “I give you my word that–”  

You planned to interrupt him. To tell him not to make oaths he wasn’t certain he could keep, knowing that he may very well change his mind about you once he realizes who you are—that you’re not technically a Strong. But, before you can, another voice intervenes.  

“Princess!” Ser Lorent calls out, exasperated, as he walks through the gate. “We must hurry, princess,” he continues, pausing only to give a wary glance at Benji’s hands wrapped around your wrist. “We’re late.”  

Your pulse begins to pound, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins at being exposed as a liar by Ser Lorent. 

Benji’s face goes blank—then his eyes go wide, big as saucers as you snag your wrist from his grip.  

“Princess...” He utters, voice laden with disbelief. “Princess?!”  

You can hardly bring yourself to do anything other than grin stupidly at him, nearly stumbling over yourself as you back-up to where Ser Lorent is waiting impatiently.  

“It was lovely meeting you, Benji!”  

You hope he can hear just how genuine your words are.  

“I’ll see you in the Great Hall,” you call out over your shoulder, sparing him one last glance as Ser Lorent guides you to the gate, watching as he blinks in astonishment, still processing the revelation.  

Walking back towards the inner-castle, Ser Lorent glances down at you with a knowing look. “You seem giddy.” There’s a teasing glint to his words that makes you roll your eyes, cheeks flushing. “So,” he continues, his brisk pace never faltering, “does this mean that your statement from lunch no longer stands? That, perhaps, this sweltering purgatory may yet grow on you?”  

You bite your cheek, a permanent grin still etched onto your face.  

“Let’s just say that I’ve decided it’s best to keep my options open, Ser Lorent.”  

a/n - you may ask yourself: lainie, why would you refer to him as mostly BEN in the last fic and BENJI in this one??

and the answer? I have not ONE clue. my brain is rotting and benji is cute.

anyways, hope you guys enjoy this one! feel like I got to explore more of his personality here. additionally, I need HBO to know that if this boy ends up not being benjicot blackwood then I'm gonna fucking riot

benjicot blackwood tag list - @a-song-for-ages @ghostinvenus

[wonryllis]

watermelon sugar (m) | sim jaeyun.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁?

preview. he’s the sweetest to you, one might confuse him for your boyfriend, but he’s not, he just your fuckboy of a roommate who treats you like a delicate candy, always looking out for you and never at you; or so you think.

or where, jake can't seem to get you off his mind no matter how hard he tries.

meet the cast. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader

genre. and they were roommates trope, fuckboy soft for his girl trope, SMUT MDNI!!!, lots of toothrooting fluff, tiny speck of angst but not proper angst, drunk confessions?, only one who can control him/her trope, happy happy ending, crack/humor, domestic scenes(newly added) college fuckboy athelete roommate!jake with his candy!roommate girl. computer science & programming major!reader, exercise physiology major!jake, nonidol!au, soccer player!jake.

word count. 13,488 unedited! it's word vomit.

warnings. fingering, dry humping, dirty talkkk lots and lots of it, nasty freak jake with innocent(seems to be) girlie, experienced x inexperienced(virgin but has idea), pussy slapping, somewhat drunk sex but there's consent consent, oral (m rec.) different scenes, p in v (unprotected! but pls pls pls do not do this ever use protection!!!!!) multiple orgasms (f.rec), overstimuation(f.rec) and somewhat (m.rec), spitting? slight nipple play, jake is rough and filthy, with heavyyyyy corruption kink it's all throughout the story, strength kink, size difference “i worship the ground you walk on” energy but still dominant jake, jake has soooo many dirty inner thoughts about you it's innumerable. he's a simp for you so you're a slut for him— i guess that's them?

theme song. animals by maroon 5 (jake pov), into you by ariana grande (yn pov)

﹙★﹚ ࣪DRABBLES (find them here)

` author notes. im sorry for making you guys wait three extra weeks I hope y'all still want to read this,, what do i say it was so horrible before the revamp, thankfully it's so much better now and the smut god, it was so hard to write it i hope it's good enough. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!!

“i don’t mind this feeling.”

YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT, WHATEVER IS HAPPENING BETWEEN YOU BOTH, BUT YOU LIKE IT. IT FEELS SILLY AND FRAGILE AND GOOD. perhaps a little too good.

god forbid what you had done in your past life to get a roommate like jake, a complete package; a concoction of all classic kinds of roommate one could possibly expect. you aren’t complaining though he takes care of you in every way he possibly could. making you feel like his entire world revolves around you, from his time home to the hours he spends on the field. one would ask anything of him and his answer would surely include you in one way or another, everyone knew it, everyone could see it, the way he feels.

he makes you breakfast, he helps with the cleaning- you both actually have it planned to have a cleaning day every week to polish the apartment. he cooks for you and he does the dishes more often than not, the only exception being the time when you insist deathly on doing it yourself because come on you gotta do at least some thing around the house.

to add to the perfect mixture of god gifted man, he video games in his room with the door shut so that the sound of him shouting at the screen doesn’t disturb you. does the laundry- even your bras and underwear, he’s just too used to those clothings to give a care to get embarrassed (outwardly). he would never admit the way they get him all hot and bothered when he thinks of all the places those fabrics have touched. how wild his imagination runs and all the things he wishes he could do to you. all the sounds he could get, out of you and all the things you'd taste of.

you are his candy (well not exactly ‘his’ but according to him this nickname of yours is only and I repeat only reserved for him) literally because you are all over sweets all the damn time and figureratively because he’d die to have a taste of you; the forbidden fruit of his life, too innocent for a person like him to ruin. but lord would he give up everything to land a chance to lay his hands on you not so innocently.

this man does not give a fuck about who is not you, and maybe occasionally spare a care for his two best friends who so far have only been blessed enough to know your name because jake has made it clear that you're off-limits and if they ever dare to do anything given the opportunity he'd rip off their balls and feed it to ducks (he's serious he swears)

getting to the real point of your dynamic: the only drawback— jake sim is a renowned fuckboy on campus, the heartbreak prince and you, his miss americana as they all like to call it. it is a daily routine, having to find a new girl in the house and ofttimes hearing them even with your door closed and your hands pressed on your ears. at first it felt disgusting, then you got used to it, and now very recently you’ve been feeling weirdly dejected. a certain kind of hatred towards the girls, something you can’t pin point exactly to why and what it is.

“candy, my laptop broke down again!” jake's raspy voice dances through the little cracks of the bathroom door as you prepare for a quick shower. you sigh, tightening the towel wrapped around you before stepping out. a short knock at his batman poster door left ajar, and he's whipping his head to have a look at you as if he knew you'd be in the middle of washing up. a little secret, yes he knew because everytime ahead of bathtime you make sure to have a sip of your watermelon slush stack from the fridge and the sound of it's door reaches his room just right to let him know.

he remains seated on his bed, a sheepish smile on his face. your eyes fall at his desk to see his laptop closed, he tricked you, and like always you fell for it,“maybe if you used your school laptop to study instead of playing games on it, this wouldn't happen all the time. but i assume you probably did it to get me here, it’s not gonna work everytime yun,” you click your tongue in feigned annoyance making him grin wider,“well it does work everytime though,” he knows how to have you on his tail just like you know how to have him wrapped around your finger. it only seems fair, you both know what gets the other going and you use it to your advantage.

“what is it?” asking in a sing song tone, you plop down on his desk chair. spinning in rounds with your legs out swinging, hands gripping onto the arms of the chair while looking up at the phosphorescent glow-in-the-dark stickers you had forcefully put up on the ceiling of his room. a funny memory of jake trying to stop you because it would defeat the whole image of his room only to fold when you gave him the puppy doe eyes, baby talking that you really wanted to do it. it doesn't take much to have jake cave in, just one look from you and the boy is a flatline. fuckboy? he is that to everyone but to you he's practically whatever you want him to be, though you have never really had a talk about it.

“actually eunsang, she-” there is a hesitation is his tone you are well aware of, having almost a clear idea of what he's about to say,“i told- no warned you not to get involved with her for a second time, didn’t i?” you scold, feeling that little twinge of hurt knowing he probably will keep on being involved with girls like this no matter what you say. it's the one thing where you don't have him under your spell. or that's you think, i mean you you have no idea do you of how much he wants you. just like how you have no idea how much you want him.

“yes but it happened and now she’s after me all the time, she even showed up to my soccer practice yesterday! please just this one time, please help me get rid of her,” clamping together his hands in a plea, jake pouts as best as he can, giving you his puppy eyes. but when you don’t show a reaction of any sort he resorts to the next best guaranteed thing: bribery,“i’ll buy you tons of watermelon lollipops! from your favorite brand that too!” eyes sparkling with hope and expections of having you fall for it, like you do every single time, he waits. albeit patterns break, in everything and everyone.

“no, i’m on a diet. i gave up on sweets, what if i get diabetes? will you,” you point at him dramatically,“take responsibility?” to which his stance morphs into one of stunned. he would gladly take responsibility for you at any given chance, but it's one of more gravity and significance than diabetes. and he's sure he's not one you should be in care of as more than anything that you are right now. he's too corrupted and you are too naive.

“yes of course i’ll help you take your meds and-” he mumbles in a quick, hurried note aware that you’ll not let him answer if he’s not fast enough. you still beat him to it though, speaking loud over and above his voice, to drown out his words despite hearing them quite clearly,“will you? NO you will not! so let me just shower peacefully before i get the urge to lock you in the bathroom when you’re in there later,” with a silence after, one that has jake grinning again at your cuteness, you take it as a que to rush out swiftly. trying to make it to the bathroom before he decides to use his strength against you and hold you down wherever he wants. which though hasn't been often, has always left you breathless and flustered to a point you refuse to admit.

training to become an athlete, a buff center forward in comparison to you who barely puts effort into doing even a little bit of yoga once a month. it’s obvious he’ll have you give in if he wants but he’s too sweet to force you. and of course it's obvious, the tension of the strength kink that looms over in the room.

it comes as a shock to you when the next day, the first thing you see waking up in the morning and walking into the living room: is eunsang standing by the kitchen counter. and important point: clad in one of jake’s dress shirts that you recognize from doing his laundry occasionally, pouring herself a glass of water. oh you had to see this coming, this is jake we're talking about will be really ever like ever not bring over girls? no matter if they're clingy or not. the answer is ambiguous and definitely not to your favor.

she’s shares a small smile upon noticing you, a friendly smile which you know is obviously fake. she’s doing it just to look good and polite in jake’s eyes. just to show that she's not bothered by you, because as said everyone knows if they don't like you then they automatically are on jake sim's blacklist. and being the star player of the team, his acquaintance is more or less influential to a large extent, so note to be taken be nice to candy to not be on the cross out list.

however as sad as it is to say it’s of no use. she’s not even there in his eyes to begin with. the moment the jake comes out of his room, his field of vision doesn’t include her. passing by her very visible figure like she’s a microscopic bug to ruffle your hair in a dotting manner, his morning voice coming out in an adoring essence,“good morning, candy,” he smiles and scrunches up his nose when he notices the baby cat you both adopted last month, curled up in the corner of the couch,“and mei,” he acknowledges your pet kitty but not the girl he brought home, that should speak volumes to you, jake thinks. treating you like candy of his world you are, shouldn't that be the ultimate giveaway of his feelings? like even his hookups can see how down bad he is for you why is it that you're the only one who can't? he wants you to know but at the same time he feels he's not right for you, a dilemma he handles by fucking up over and over again.

wishing him morning in response you give him a look which silently delivers your question of what is going on. you did hear them last night (more like her), but you didn’t know it was her her. you weren’t even expecting her to be the one. after the conversation with jake yesterday, she was the last person you would have ever assumed. he sends you a flying look that he’ll explain everything later, shushing you off before you speak out loud.

“yunie,” your ears perk up at her voice, eyes narrowing in a deadly stare at the nickname you exclusively call him with, leaving her crusty mouth. certainly, like jake you blossom a definite possession over names too. perhaps it's the effect of living with him 24/7 but you seem to have picked up a lot of his antics.

jake’s eyes shift to look at you for a moment and then he’s running a hand through his hair, dropping his sweet conduct to get back into his usual cold fuckboy self. he absolutely does not like the way your brows turn down and the pretty smile you were previously adorning for him falling off your pretty lips. he can tolerate anything but seeing you bothered in any way. “you’re still here? it's better if you leave soon, candy doesn’t like all this,” walking around her to the other side of the counter and into the kitchen to open the upper cabinets, jake ignores her like a plague as if he wasn't showing her heaven last night. but alas, nothing comes above you, she should have known that.

“what do you want for breakfast candy? should i make you some toast? or do you want your usual dose of sugar?” his palms rest on the granite countertop, leaning against it slightly while turning to fix his gaze on you. it makes eunsang rage with anger, throwing you a demeaning look before she disappears into jake's room.

the moment his bedroom door closes, you feel the unfamiliar weight on your shoulders relax a tad bit,“my watermelon slush please,” finding your cozy spot on the kitchen counter, you give him your most adorable pout feeling like you had to gain back his warmth after the hookup. your legs dangle over the height between, toes softly brushing against jake's calves every two seconds. watching him prepare your drink, you decide to voice out the thing that had been disturbing since the moment you walked out your room,”did you like make a friends with benefit kind of arrangement or something?” it comes out in a low whisper, afraid if you said it too loud it'd come true. the thought of it disturbs you for some reason, it’s not new for you to see random girls in your apartment; or to hear them while they’re at it. yet it still gives you a sort of uneasy feeling, something you do not like feeling.

“it was a last time kind of deal actually,” he stops briefly to give you a quilty smile. finishing your sweet slushy just as eunsang hastily steps out, wearing what you assume her clothes from the previous night. she slows down to observe as jake hands you the cup, repulsively watching you take a sip,“is it good?” hearing him speak in a tone way different than the one she’s acquainted with him using with her has stomp her way out in a grumpy fit.

looking up from the edge of your cup with hopes to give her a sly stare, your eyes follow her figure, flinching silently when she bangs the door close harshly,“bitch,” you comment, hooded orbs shifting back to jake who scowls in disapproval,”language candy,” he reminds, knowing very well it does nothing to stop you.

“sorry yunie but she's so agressive, and for what?” you whine.

“from what i’ve seen, you’re way more aggressive,” jake laughs softly, index finger coming to poke at your cheek tenderly.

with full cheeks, you grin like a cheshire cat and jake feels his heart rate speeding up, who gave you the permission to be the cutest person he's ever known? the urge to kiss you just keeps growing with each passing day and with with each little sneaky smile and doe eyes you give him.

“we need to get the groceries this week, i have after classes soccer practice for the next four days and we're not gonna last that long,” the thought of spending the next four evenings alone in the unit is gloomier than the half assed ham and cheese toast jake makes for himself. if only you said yes to some proper breakfast, his taste buds and stomach wouldn't be suffering so much.

you nod as if he has eyes on his back, knowing well he's gonna want you with him but not force you, if you'd say no. whatever you want, is whatever he does.

“‘m gonna go take a shower first then,” hopping down, you place your empty mug in the sink, and skip to your room to take your bath supplies.

“let’s shower together,” jake's friskiness thrives in the way he shouts with an undertone of mischief. watching you with a teasing gaze as you step out the threshold of your bedroom door. a tiny smirk spreading onto his lips when you scrunch your nose in a grimace. cute, he mouths thinking you wouldn't notice but god you do. he's clearly joking but you can’t help feeling flustered internally. keeping up with his flirty and touchy stunts and tricks should have made it easier for you by now, but over a year in and you're yet to find yourself getting used to it. he’s too attractive and hot to get used to; at least that’s what excuse your brain gives you, which honestly is true to some extent. his looks score a lot of points and you can't deny that.

“and if we get locked in there, who’s gonna get us out? you know the door lock has problems,” you complain in a soft groan which, in his eyes is more adorable with the little annoyance you show. if you think you could ever intimidate him, you probably will because he'll melt right away to even think of a counter back.

his stance straightens at that, a fleeting look of flabbergast clouding his face before he’s breaking out in a taunt of smile, eyes closing in on you in a brazen look,“so does that mean if the lock was fine you’d actually shower together with me,” he feels this triumph of emotions, a sudden rush of sugar at the realization that'd probably maybe perhaps someday let him get in the shower together with you. the sheer excitement he experiences through his veins is over the roof, just the possibility of something so intimate with you is a bite of golden spoon for him.

he purposely stops all he’s doing to stare at you, moving his eyebrows cheekily, trying to provoke you,“i never said that,” you stick your tongue out at him, closing the door in a soft slam and crying out a ‘you’re sick in the head!’

“only for you!” jake yells back, chuckling to himself as he leaves the room.

two hours later you’re both strolling through the isles of shelving, bright florescent lighting, end displays of popular products, sale signs, banners with store mottoes, isle signs with product locations, rows and rows of household products and everything you'd always spend lots of time looking through until jake has to drag you back home.

he pushes the cart while you look around for items to throw in and cross out one by one from your checklist. the way you both discuss and bicker over what to keep in the cart and what not to every two minutes will lead any sane person to conclude you as a couple. you both would also admit it feels as such. how he insists on taking what you like while you argue that you’re on a diet and need to cut down on the consumption and desires of your sweet tooth. it feels sweet, he feels sweet. and you make him want to coddle you so bad, like what do you mean you're on a diet? you're perfect already. too perfect for him.

“i’m taking the pop tarts!” you hear him shout from two or probably three Isles away while you look through some new make up launches,”…okay fine!” capturing the attention of an old couple who glance at your way and mutter something you don’t quite catch but you assume it’s probably about how annoying you both are, shouting at the mart.

“yunie look these are so pretty,” you point at the line of lipgloss as jake comes over with cart. he hums in agreement, watching you scan through the shades in an animated mood, mumbling over the names and speaking of how it'd look good for an everyday look or with summer dress you recently got. oh how smitten he feels, observing the way you seem so pumped up simply over gloss.

“there's no mirror— “

“try it on me,” oh he's bewitched under your spell.

jake stands still as you apply the mauve on him, staring at you through hooded eyes,”oh, this one’s really pretty on you!” you beam, looking up at him as if he could see it too.

“it'd look prettier on you,” he's hardly able to whisper out, gaze trained on the way you part your lips while you wipe it off his and apply another. if he didn't have a strong self control, by now he would have shoved his tongue down your throat in the dirtiest and messiest kiss you'd ever known. knocking your breath out, as well as his. he's already on the verge of losing it with every little touch you leave on his lips, wetting your own as a habit.

“which one should i take?” you ask something cutely, jake almost feels guilty for the thoughts swimming in his head.

“i’ll buy all of it for you, we can do something like a chapstick challenge you know. the one where you kiss and guess the flavor,” he teases loving the tiny exasperated glare you throw him. “yunn, be serious! which one?”

“these two?” he points to ones you commented were pretty feeling impatient at the conjured up image of you wearing the colors on with you tiny, sexy little sundresses you got hidden in your closet. please feel guilty man he thinks.

in the end jake (successfully) convinces you to continue your diet later over the summer break offering to help you with it. and grabs a bunch of packets of your favorite snacks, your favorite brand’s watermelon lollipops and not to forget the fruit itself. checking all out he insists on carrying everything himself, only handing you the little bag that held your lollies in case you'd want one on the way back.

the subway is more crowded than usual, scarcely any seat left. it takes you a whole minute to scan around for an empty one, immediately encouraging jake to take it. a silly game of rock paper scissors to decide who stands, insisting firmly that he sit when you end up winning. the grocery bags rest by his foot and you stand between his legs, holding onto the bar wobbling every now and then. it’s just one stop left when jake suddenly pulls you onto his lap, adjusting you comfortably on his thighs and placing his hands on your legs possessively. you turn to look at him, lashes brushing against his skin and lips parting in the slightest at the adrenaline you feel pumping into your fast beating heart. the muscles in his chest feel firm at the faint touch of your back against him, the thumping of his own heart similar to that of yours.

he leans closer to whisper in your ear,“that creep right there kept staring you up and down,” pointing with a discreet move of his eyes as he drills holes through his stern gaze fixed on the said guy. you on the other hand, grow hot with irritation, perhaps just as hot and bothered you are feeling jake pressed so close. an abrupt and sharp impulse of anger.

“i’ll show him the fuck he was staring at," you mutter out, teeth gritted, and hands almost forming into fists, expression as innocent as always. jake seems to catch on to what you’re about to do and before you can get up from lap, his hold on you gets tighter,"okay, i know you hate this candy, but i don’t want you getting hurt in any way, if he does anything i’ll make sure to set him right, for now i think he got it that he’s not gonna stare at you however he wants,” hand grabing yours in gentle caresses along the expanse of your arm. delicate and slow like a soothing rub. his touch just as enticing and stimulating it is, is also calming, knowing exactly how to pacify your hot headedness. jake finds that really hot about you, the way you look like you couldn't harm a bug but he's seen you throw kicks and punches (for the right reasons) ‘looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you’ he never knew that's his type. sometimes and really only some rare times he wonders if you're not as innocent as he thinks you are, getting rock hard at the thought of it, dick twitching multiple times imagining you saying and doing things that an angel like you shouldn't be.

for the rest of the ride he manages to lull you back to your sweet candy mode, making you laugh at his lame pick up lines, and occasionally tickling your sides. head falling back into his shoulder in cute giggles and hips rolling on him, damn only he knows how bad he's holding back. as shameless as he is he'd probably jump your bones right infront of everyone to see. thankfully you bring the decency in your relationship.

when your stop comes, he intertwines his fingers you as you walk out the compartment, just in case you decide to give the dude a slap before leaving.

“'m gonna flatten out all your abs today, you'll need to gym again,” jake chuckles, feeling you roll over his body like mei’s lint roller as he lays on your favorite fluffy kuromi rug typing away on his laptop an essay deadlined for tomorrow. the weight of your body on and off and the touch of your hot skin he feels funsies,“you do this all the time, candy and my abs have never left. how can i let them? knowing how much you love it,” reaching behind to hold you still on his back. you are glad he can't see the way your cheeks warm up at that, a bashful look on your face remembering all the times he's caught you ogling at his body.

“why are you sulking?” he asks when you don't respond with a whine like you usually do. aware that you behave this way either when you’re over the top bathing in happiness or dissatisfied with something.

“’m gonna gain weight now because of you, i’ll see all the snacks and sweets in the pantry and not be able to resist binge eating,” you lightly punch at the curve of his shoulders, dropping your head into the crook of his neck in a pout. jake turns around swiftly to hold you in a hug, wanting nothing more than to cheer you up,“i love your belly anyhow, whether it’s visible or not,” giving the plump flesh of your stomach a zephyr-like pinch. you wince playfully drawing back inches to tease him only to drop down into his arms to hug him back seconds later,“yeah whatever,” his words make you feel butterflies, a turmoil of frenzy and fuzzy feelings, cheeks growing warm once again, and the warmth spreading all over your mind this time. why does he have to be so sweet to you?

you both stay like that for a while breathing slowly, and taking in the comfort of a hug, the room saturated with a restful and serene silence. you’re the first to pull away,“you should finish that essay, i have to prepare for my test next week,” jake groans at the loss of your touch, wailing out with his hands as you leave the room.

”i’m joining you as soon as i finish this!”

four days later on the weekend, you sit on the couch alone, wrapped in the thin lilac charmeuse blanket jake got for you (he said it the softness of it, reminded him of you.) waiting for your him to join you. eight in the morning with ‘tangled’ running on the tv, it's not something jake would ever want to do, but he gives in because you like it; bonus sometimes when you get a little sleepy, he grabs the chance to cuddle you as close as he can, leaving a few fluttering kisses on your temple and cheeks. he's grateful you never say anything about it and just let him be.

“yunie, can you pass me the watermelon in the fridge? the one from yesterday,” you spare a quick glance towards jake as he walks out his room. his headset rests loosely around his neck, half naked, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and his black hair all dishevelled: looking even more messier due to the perm he got last week. “yeah sure,” the rasp in his voice as he mumbles out softly gives away the fact that he probably stayed up all night again.

taking the half a piece of watermelon out and grabbing a spoon, jake scoops out a small little portion. going up to your slouched figure on the couch, and extending it out for you to eat,“here you go, candy,” he does it quite often, infact he loves to feed you. seeing your cheeks full and your eyes sparkling makes him feel fond as much as it turns him on. picturing you the same way on your knees between his legs with his dick stuffed in your mouth. choking and gagging on him, tears dropping down your pretty eyes while you stare up at him with this same doe look. it'd be heaven. even more so if he would have to teach you how to do it right, further fueling the massive corruption kink he seems to have harboured after meeting you.

he passes you melon after you take the bite, sitting beside you with his legs crossed. eyes trained on the way you fill in more in your mouth than you can handle, face all round and full,”eat slowly,” he flicks at your forehead.

“do you want to go buy a new sofa at ikea tomorrow? this one’s pretty small,” he adds a minute later, raising his brows subtly.

“well, first of all i didn’t plan to have a roommate and secon- i swear if it’s for your hook-ups i’m kicking you out!” it comes out in a yell, voice raising with every syllable before you spit a seed at him. one that due to your bad aiming skills instead of landing on his face, falls and sticks to the skin of his chest. damn those muscles they get you feelings things you probably shouldn't be.

putting away the watermelon on your tea table, you pick up mei and settle her on your lap, pulling back your blanket which had slipped off in a crackle of laughter,“this is public space have some decency before you have such thoughts!”

“stop making me appear like a horndog!” he laughs along, whinning at your false accusations in giggles and a look of faux disbelief.

“well that is exactly what you are!” you throw the closest cushion at his face. grinning with your signature cutesy doe eyes and jake is a goner. he always is.

“no don't do this me,”

“change the sheets then, it's your turn this week,” turning away from him, you fix your eyes on rapunzel climbing down the tower. trying to avoid the way he stares at you with betrayal, immediately scooting over to tickle you.

“you cheeky liar it's your turn,” his hands glossing over your ticklish areas.

“i love you,” in a fit of uncontrolled giggles, you shout. pushing against him to escape only to have your wrists pulled away, held together in a tight grasp and pinned above your head. “candy! i love you is not gonna get you out of chores come on i'll help you. we'll watch tangled later. together, i promise,” his laughter dies down with every word he utters, whispering out the last part as he becomes aware of the proximity between you two. so close you both think, breaths slowing down and heartbeats picking up the pace with each passing second.

“we're doing this okay?” jake whispers again, albeit, his tone a tad bit more heavy and bothered. an ambiguous daze clouding over, as if he is talking about something entirely different than just changing sheets. a twinge of lust bubbling inside. having you under him like this makes him realize just how desperately he wants you, and how bad his strength kink blooms for you. to have you whimpering and moaning, gaze all hazy as you let him do whatever he wants with you. damn he feels his dick twitch at that, gulping nervously hoping you wouldn't notice.

“you look like eugene,” you mumble out suddenly and jake feels his thirst rise off the roof, because the size difference between the characters? he wouldn't deny he thought of you the first time he saw the animation. wanting you have you in his arms the same way.

“then you must be my rapunzel,” you feel even more flustered if that's possible, your stomach twisting and twirling at his words until,”now come on we gotta keep the house clean for mother gothel,” jake let's his grip on you loosen, taking a moment to get off you.

“yunie!”

“i'll make you some sweet soy-glazed potatoes too later,” he voice drowns out as he enters you bedroom first.

“well i guess it's okay then,” you giggle following after him.

“candy that's not how you tuck in the corners,” jake scolds you for nth time, running after you to fix the edges you mess up deliberately time and again. “hey! candy! get down!” you make it a chaos for him, jumping onto the unmade bed and messing up the sheets all the way.

“oops,” there's a devilish grin on your face as jake pauses to watch you have your sugar rush episode.

“if you wanna wrestle again and end up under me, just say so,” he teases, inching closer and grabbing you by the waist. you both laugh again as if you weren't dripping with need for each other just moments ago. he picks you up and walks to the door putting you down by the sill,”i seriously need to get this done, you go and peel the potatoes for me,” you can't cook for the sake of god and letting you use knives is like a deathwish, jake can only hope peeling will keep you busy and safe enough to not end up with cuts anywhere.

the doorbell rings just as you step into the kitchen, walking back to the front in a sluggish sigh. feeling utter regret for answering the door, the instant you notice the figure outside. not wanting to reveal the presence to jake, you shut the door behind.

he peeps out your room at the sound of it, shrugging it off as nothing because you’ve done it lot many times: when your friends show up because you simply don’t want them to fall under his radar as prey.

you spare an indifferent glance at the way eunsang stands tall; hands folded with a cocky look on her rather gorgeous face. she's a beauty and you hate to admit that, a vibe so opposite of you it makes you insecure considering jake's hooked up with her more than a few times. “i’m here to see jake,” she states, tilting her head to point over at the closed door, all the sugary honeyed act she keeps up around him nowhere to be seen.

“and he doesn’t want to see you, didn’t he tell you it was the last time,” you counterattack, folding your arms and straightening up to look intimidating. your stare is one of taunt, carrying a gaze of boredom in hopes to establish that you're one to reckon with.

“are you jake? i said i want to talk to jake not you,” her heels click in impatience and underlying disgust in the tone she uses with you gets on your nerves.

you close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the annoyance in you before it turns into anger, tongue poking at the side of your cheek, “and are you deaf? i said he does not want to talk to you,” assert dominance, assert dominance you repeat over and over in your head.

but what she says next makes you lose your temper.

jake, the very epicenter of it all, on the other hand has no idea of what's going on outside until there's a scream that sounds too much like you, one turning into many more. it's frantic and inhumane, the speed at which he runs out. dropping everything and anything. there in broad daylight he finds you and eunsang trying to rip each other's hair out in the thankfully empty hallway. he doesn't know if he should be worried more about your scalp hurting or your throat tearing from how loudly you scream over eunsang. his hands flail as he contemplates on breaking the fight or letting you calm down, which you probably won't as he knows. he grabs onto eunsang's hands on your head trying to loosen her grip on your hair, concerned over the pain you must be feeling while you're there now trying to kick her between her legs. she's shocked to say the least, watching him latch you off her in a swift motion and throw you over his shoulder. he takes you back inside quickly, groaning at your fists pounding against his back in a protest,”fucking let go of me! i’m gonna give her a good piece of my mind!”

“candy language!” putting you down by the kitchen softly, he grasps the side of your arms and forces you to look into his eyes,“stop fighting all the time, stay here i’ll talk to her, okay?” he speaks slowly as an attempt to calm you. when you wiggle off in a scornful shrug, he asks again, this time moving to cup your face, a tender look in his eyes,“okay?” you nod in a defeated sigh and he's out the door before you can say anything else. you're upset, really upset, you know what you did outside was not decent yet you can't get over the fact that he left you in here to go back to talk to her. he was on your tail last week trying to beg you to help him get rid of her and even shooed her out the unit harshly, what more is there to talk about?

truth to be told, this was how he first met you, or should he say saw you. it was the move in day, he had all the necessities for the week packed in a travel suitcase, with the other stuff to be brought in later on. he was waiting for the elevator in the lobby, more tense and anxious than ever to meet the girl he was going to be living with a good four years of his college life. hoping she'd not treat him like some stranger, or be someone impossible to get close to hash live with. along with little bits of curiosity and hopes again, that she'd be a pretty and sweet girl maybe someone help could form some kind of benefits with.

however never in a million years did he ever expect it to be the cute yet fierce girl in the elevator. to say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement, he was literally blown off his feet, scared or impressed, his confusion was massive. when the doors of the elevator had opened he had found you slapping a middle aged man,”fun? you think groping my butt ‘s fun, you sicko,” kicking him in the balls next. hard. jake had gulped at that, hard. heart on a pause. the look of feigned innocence on your face as you did all that. damn jake swears it was that moment he fell. maybe not romantically but you definitely got his dick hard.

you looked super cute, and you knew how to fight, jake thought he hit the jackpot when you turned out to be his roommate. pretty you were, definitely, and sweet wasn't even a question; you were sweet to him and you are a lot of sweet. the only thing that remains a mystery till now is if you'd taste as sweet. jake hopes he can find that out.

he returns a few minutes later, lips pursed in a small smile as he shuts the front door. it grows even wider when his eyes find you,“so your soy glazed potatoes,” he chuckles walking over to the kitchen and getting other things out.

“she called me a slut for living with a guy like you and i was in the midst of giving her a lecture on actually how good of a person you are-” you bang on the counter with a thud and turn around to face him,“and you dragged me in!” whinning in a pout that looked as upset as your furrowed brows.

jake glances over in amusement, halting to give you another grin as he boops your nose gently,“my darling candy, i’m only good to you,” the glare you throw his way only makes him snicker with adoration. the little flicker of bashfulness you feel making you break out in a smile which (thankfully, for you) jake doesn't notice.

“whatever, i’m gonna take a long shower. do not disturb me!” you leave in a rush afraid if you stay too long he'd see it all on your face.

ten minutes later, as you tiptoe to get your favorite shower gel from the shelf above the mirror, luck decides to remind you why you shouldn't ever stay away from jake sim. feet slipping on the wet floor, body colliding against the cold tiles in a thud loud enough to have jake come running.

“candy, you're okay? what happened? should i open the door? ‘m coming in,” his voice is laced with worry, snapping open the door to find you laying flat down, though to his relief not unconscious. he picks you carefully, bringing you to your room and seating you on the edge of the bed to check for any injuries. hands delicately caressing all over and asking if it hurts any where,”you're so clumsy, always getting me worried like shit,”

“language,” you giggle, trying to make him laugh and it works.

“sorry, just please be careful, okay?” his fingers brush back your hair as you give him a small nod,“do you feel pain anywhere?” another nod, and this one ticks his alarms.

“where!” your fingers reach out to press against the brooding crease between his brows, attempting to remove the frown from his face. and jake melts at that, feeling his heart flutter at your cuteness, god he loves this side of you so much.

“you little demon, look what happens if you don't shower with me,” laughing out together, oh how he wishes it were like this forever. and jake sim has never thought of a forever ever before.

a month passes by in the blink of an eye, your routines and relationship staying the same as always, classes, his soccer practice and your weekly cleaning day. but what seems to have changed is his routine of bringing over girls, the number alarmingly cutting down day by day (which currently sits at zero) and what you haven’t noticed- his display of affection towards you growing more and more. yet you think nothing special of it, assuming that perhaps now he got a grip over himself. which is partially true. jake thought of you as deserving someone better, so it was only right that he became better. and what better way than to start with quitting the position of campus’ resident fuckboy.

after an all nighter the previous day, coming back from your classes you get straight to bed. changing you clothes and getting tucked under the blanket from around eight in the evening. jake returns from his soccer practice later, unaware of the fact that you're already passed out. opening your door to let you know of his night out plans,“candy, i’m gonna go out with jay and sunghoon! make sure to have your dinne- oh you were sleeping? i didn’t know i’m so sorry candy,” he mumbles out in a soft whisper towards the end, supressing a smile watching your sleepy figure under the covers. trying to rub out the drowsiness from your eyes; heavy blinking and a small pout, his cute girl.

“it’s okay no need to get up, go back to sleep, i’ll be back in the morning,” approaching the bed as you lay back down, he pats your head in a 'sleep well’ before leaving.

it's probably past midnight when you wake up to constant ringing of calls. fumbling around for your phone in a daze only to find a dozen calls from an unknown number and a bunch of texts from the same. it's jay, asking you to get jake from the bar they're at. saying the guy's refusing to go back with anyone that's not you: whining for your presence and making it hard for his two friends.

'where is my candy?’ jay and sunghoon are sick and tired of hearing it all night.

by the time you get him back to the apartment, it's three and your bones hurt from the weight of his body leaning all over you. it doesn't help that all he does is giggle and throw himself over you. there's been a lot of times you have seen him drunk, probably more than a dozen, but he's never looked as wasted as today. sunghoon told you it's because he drank way more than usual, and unbeknownst to you that you are the sole reason, you wonder of the things that plague his mind to the extent of drinking so much.

dragging him into his room you have him sit on his bed, going through his closet and getting him a pair of sweatpants and the first shirt you can grab. “come on yunie, get changed,” you hand him the clothes, turning away when he takes everything off nonchalantly. even though he likely would rather want you to look, from the many times he's said it before ‘why’re you looking away, candy it's all for you,’ his exact words. the bane of your existence.

after he's changed, you wipe the sweat off his body with a wet towel as much as you can. giving him a glass of water before leaving for your room when he grabs your wrist and stops you with his puppy eyes.

in the morning, around noon jake is the first one to wake up and having no memory of the previous night besides the fact that he was drunk. he sits at his desk chair, hands in his hair, watching you sleep on the other side of his bed, clad in his shirt. it’s like he feels everything is over and done from here. he did what he swore never to do, this was the very first thing he pinned on his mind as an important note: not using you even if he has very obvious feelings for you. he tugs on his hair in frustration, angry at himself for not staying in his lane when drunk. with his head hung in guilt, he doesn't notice you stirring awake, sitting up at the sight of his hunched figure.

“yun? are you okay? is the hangover severe? should i make you something for it?” startled at your soft voice, he flinches visibly. a thousand scenarios running through his mind and not one ends up good.

“you don’t even know any hangover recipes,” jake mumbles almost inaudibly.

“i can just search on the internet and try my best, it’s not like i’ll give you anything inedible,” you teaee, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere you feel in the air.

it takes him a moment to speak again, sounding as miserable as he has never before,“candy i’m,” he halts, gulping to hold back the lump in his throat,“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to, i don’t why i, it's all my fault,” he stops again, leaving you confused and dumbfounded,“what are you saying? what apology?” it is when his eyes shift to stare at what you’re clad in, staying there for a hard minute when you get a rough idea of what he could be thinking of. your cheeks grow hot at the realization, shaking your head when unholy images pop up in your subconscious.

but the butterflies fly away just as fast as they came as his words dawn uppn you. even if it didn’t happen the fact that he wouldn’t mean it, want it, regret it has something in you twisting in pain, are you so bad? or that he actually really thinks of you as his little sister? that you read his affections wrong, assumed his feelings differently? your heart breaks more than a little at that.

“why? is it because i’m not like the others you have been with? because i’m not like eunsang? or because i’m not her? the one you were smiling so hard after talking to? are you dating he-”

“that’s the problem! you’re not like her! you’re not like anyone i've known before! you’re special and i’m afraid i’ll lose you, things will change and just i’ll have to get over you without even getting a chance,” it's the first time he's ever raised his voice at you, and the first time ever he's sounded so desperate, weak and dejected. so vulnerable.

the split moment of sadness dissipates with every word that sinks in. the revelation of a(n after)drunk confession. the fact that you're a different kind of special to him, that he would want a chance to be with you, that he's afraid to lose you. you supres the urge to laugh when it all settles into your understanding. having a better grasp over the bigger picture. your steps are slow and calculated as you walk over to him, sitting across his lap and cupping his cheeks in a fleeting breath of courage. his eyes almost bulge out when you brush your lips lightly against his, mumbling softly,“nothing happened, but if you still want i can give you a chance, it’s going to be hard though tolerating me, think wisely,” you giggle and jake malfunctions for an instant before grabbing you in a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“of course, of course i do want it, i’ve always wanted it,” chanting out in a trance.

“your lips tasted like watermelon,” he mutters out some time after, eyes locking with yours in an intense pull. still in a daze that out of all the bad things that could've happened it was none. literally none plus you perhaps wanting him just as much as he wants you.

“i had some in the morning before you woke up, anyhow yours taste like alcohol and your breath is horrible, go and freshen up,” you push at his shoulder, getting off him to leave the room to cook something. probably (as you said) a recipe searched up on the web, hopefully edible enough for a hungover person.

when he comes out later, all showered and back to the jake you know: the one who likes his hair slightly messy and almost never in a shirt. “why were- are you wearing my shirt then?”

“you practically begged me to last night while sobbing for i don’t know what reason,” he's a bit flustered at that, but hey, it's what got him here, you gotta do what you gotta do.

“candy, you wanna go out tonight? jay and sunghoon wanted to hang out but i don't wanna leave you so i said i’d bring you along,” jake asks, knocking at your door.

it takes you a little over a minute to open up but jake's does not mind it at all for obvious reasons, his jaw comically falling to the floor when you walk out in your tiny little blue sundress and the shade of lipgloss he was dying to see you in. you're unreal.

“yes! i heard you on call earlier,”

“oh my god candy, gimme a princess twirl,” the amount of desire he feels for you right now is unfathomable. biting his lips at the sight of your lace panties underneath that faintly flash him in the mini twirl you do. can you get any hotter?

“just fifteen minutes and i'll be ready,” he got ten minutes to do something about the boner he just popped, and it's more than enough to have him rub one out with what he just saw. maybe add a little hint of imagination and wondering what you'd sound like if he were to touch you down there. especially given the fact that the likelihood of it happening were through the roof now. you almost kissed last week, anything could happen at this point. and jake's dick gets impossibly sensitive at the odds of it.

at the restaurant, jay and sunghoon sit in an awkward silence, watching you both be all over each other. when they agreed for jake to bring his girl along, they didn't expect it to be so bad.

“um jake talks a lot about you,” sunghoon says trying to start a conversation that he knows probably wouldn't go anywhere.

“he does? that's so sweet,” you smile, giggling over something jake whispers in your ear, his hand palming over the plush of your exposed thighs,”what do you wanna eat?” sunghoon nerves feel boiled at the way jake completely skips over his attempt to talk to you. while jay sips at wine, agonizingly slow knowing this is how it's gonna be from now on. their friend is a changed man.

“i have this picture of jake from middle school, you'd love to see it i promise,” a little tipsy, sunghoon's persistence to put himself in the equation albeit admirable, annoys the fuck out of jake, scowling at the other well of aware of the so called picture he wants to share.

“jay man, take care of him. candy and i are going home,” jake gives them a tight lipped smile, holding your rather drunk self (it's just wine you had said)

“see you later ca- y/n,” at first jay leans in for a friendly hug but— nevermind. the way jake stares at him is scarily weird.

jake makes sure to have you sit on the couch before he leaves to get you water but you're sprawled out on the floor when he comes back. mumbling something about how cool the tiles feel against your skin,”come on you should drink some water,” jake pulls you up on your ass, sitting cross legged on the floor beside you. his hand softly holds the back of your head as he brings the glass to your mouth.

“alright say, what did you wanna say?”

“i wanna kiss you,” if jake thinks the pout on your lips is the cutest thing ever then the words you say must have to be the hottest thing ever. how can a simple word like kiss make his heart flutter so bad? and it's not even lust at this point.

he fulfils your wish without a thought, leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. sucking on your bottom lip a second long before he pulls away and boops your nose. no tongue and no other intentions. the after taste of your gloss lingering in his mouth.

“let me tell you a secret,” you whisper out, moving over to his lap, knees on the floor each side.

“i knew you stole my kuromi panties,” he's shocked you know about it, he made sure to be extra careful with it, though his nasty ass was internally hoping you'd catch him.

“mhm, i do have it with me but it's not really wearable now,” he did not see this becoming something sexual but the moment you brought up the panties, you might as well have brought up his dick. man practically re-lived every single time he used it to jerk off, all those orgasms coming to life at once.

“you need to punished!” you whine,

“what do you wanna do?” and jake feels his dick get harder at that.

“can we kiss again?” oh my god, you make him feel so fuzzy and horny at the same time, it's unbelievable. in the guide of jake sim: to make him horny is relatively easy, to get him all fuzzy is once in a lifetime and to get him both at the same time is impossible. yet you do it so effortlessly.

jake answers you with his lips against yours again, relishing in the feeling of them on his own. all those times he wondered of how it'd feel like to kiss you seemed so lame now that he actually did. no imagination could ever come close to way he feels right now. his hand comes up to cup the side of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls away for a moment,”i wanna love you so much and take you on cute little dates and buy you all the food you want and fuck you so hard you only remember my name,”he mumbles against your lips in a bit whisper, letting you take a breath before he dives right back in. this time he lets his tongue slide in, rubbing against your own for a short while only to pull back and go for another trying to keep your lips pressed together for as long as he could. finally pulling away when he feels you push against him a little too roughly, a crawl of shudders all over his skin at the roll of your hips against his bulge.

“wan’ you to fuck me too,” you whine, this time desperately.

“fuck candy, you're drunk we shouldn't be doing this,” he reminds, failing miserably to hold himself back. his hands keep twitching to just grab your hips and grind you down on his dick until you're both cumming together.

“i’m not, i swear. i just drank a little because i couldn't have done this all sober,” even through the layers of clothes, jake can feel your neediness dropping with the way you roll your hips harder against him. speeding up when you think he's pushing you away, but he's just grabbing you closer by the waist. he can't deny how wanted he feels right now, feeling like he'd explode any second. the fuck were you so horny for him?

“are you sure this is okay?” he asks again. no matter how bad he's dying to fuck you, he'll never do it if you don't to.

“‘s okay, please yunie,” you feel his hands slide along your thighs and in between your legs. fingers faintly brushing over the wet patch on your panties in a sharp inhale. he grazes two fingers against your clit, testing the waters. rubbing harder when he feels your breathing pick up it's pace, switching to spank your clit impossibly fast having lost control at the sound of your wanton whimpers.

“don’t move and take it baby,” jake growls, pushing you flush against his chest, making your back arch more and more into him. tits bouncing right up in his face as he bends down to nibble as the exposed skin between them.

he stops for a moment only to push your panties to the side and touch you raw. rubbing rougher and so intense, your legs feel number from pleasure,”has anyone touched you like before?” his jaw clenches hard, eyes dark with want as they remain fixated at the sight of his hands on your pussy. fuck he finally knows what touching you feels like.

“ngh— no, fuck!” and it boosts jake's ego through the roof, he doesn't think he's ever felt as horny as he feels right now. the thought of being the first to touch you in your princess parts, the first you have seen you putty like this, the first to be the one to get you like this. fuck, fuck, fuck! he feels so turned on it's literally inhumane. precum oozing out his tip with every twitch of his dick.

“mm, gonna put my fingers in you,” you feel one of jake's fingers press into you, sliding inside easily with how dripping wet you are. the pornographic moan you let out when he slowly slips in another and curves up has his dick twitch so damn hard he thinks he just came untouched. you sound so cute yet so fucking hot, his mind is in a spiral of everything he wants to do to have you moan like that again and again until you're so drunk on pleasure, you only want him all the time.

“shit you're so tight and warm, can't imagine how good you'd feel around my cock,” his eyes keenly hooked on the way you raise your hips to meet the thrusts halfway,”y-yun, ‘s feels too g-good ah,”

“fuck you're so hot and so perfect for me,” his words travel straight to your core having you clench tight around his fingers and all of a sudden you find your oragasm hitting you as violently as jake continues to run you through it, fast and painfully pleasurable. enamoured and obsessed with the way your doe eyes struggle to stay open, mouth parting in a loud whine, back arching and hips shooting up. god you're a piece of art and jake doesn't think he's ever gonna want anyone other than you.

he immediately stands up with you in his arms, walking over to the kitchen counter and placing you gently on the cold marble. his fingers run through your hair in a soft caress, tucking in the messy strands behind your ears,”you sure you want this? we can stop here if you want. just say the word and i’ll stop,”

“wan’ yun to be my first,” you whimper wearily, jake feels his heart skip a couple of beats. your first, he wants to be your last too and you to be his last.

”gonna make you cum so much harder on my cock,” he places his hands on your thighs in a tight grip and forces them apart fervently. he so damn wants to eat you out but he also wants to feel you cum around his cock, it's a hard choice to make but his cock feels so angry and heavy slick from all the precum he shot out each time you whimpered or moaned or whined, if he'd wait to get his dick wet he'd probably actually come untouched from your sounds and reactions alone. and only god knows(jay too oops) how bad jake sim wants the first time he cums with you to be deep inside you. so much so that he might develop a kink of getting you knocked up (nope you're too young for that!)

he takes his pants off in a snap, practically ripping his boxers along with it, grabbing his rock hard dick, throbbing and red at the tip and trusting into his fist a couple of times. breathing heavy at the way you watch him with your lips between your teeth. he wonders how good it'd feel to watch you touch yourself while he does the same, cumming together with your eyes locked. but he probably doesn't have that kind of self control to just watch you touch yourself, when he can do it himself?

he taps his tip against your clit for a hot minute sliding it along your folds in a strained groan. you're so embarrassing wet, it's like jake could shove himself inside immediately and your you'd hardly feel pain for a while. however, holding back his desires, he pushes into you slowly, holding your body close and stroking your back soothingly,”let me know when i can move,” a tender kiss at your forehead, trying to make sure you know you have the say it in.

jake groans as you give him the go seconds later,”mhmmm candy⁠— baby,” moaning soft and lustful as he pulls out till the tip and thrusts all the way in. your insides feel so warm and gummy, walls clenching around him crazy tight. he thinks he'll lose his mind and end up cumming embarrassingly fast like a teen getting pussy for the first time. the way he feels the pleasure throb in his veins so intense all over his body, it's almost numbing.

your hands loop around his neck, fingers scratching at his back as he pounds into you rough, his pace hard and fast pushing all his body weight against you.

“don't think i can ever get enough of you,”

the sight of the thin straps of your dress slipped to the sides, tits almost spilling out of the front gets jake going, fueling him to grab at you anywhere and everywhere his hands can possibly go,”tell me im dreaming fuckkk— i've wanted you for so long, can't count the number of times i've jerked off to the thought of having you like this, so pretty and dumb under me,” all those evenings when you roamed around the unit in the shortest shorts and the smallest crops, driving him mad shit insane, having to sneak off into the bathroom multiple times. fisting his cock hard, groaning and biting back his moans as he got off to the thought of you, while you sat all unaware and innocent on the other side of the wall.

he stops abruptly, pulling out in a frenzy and turning you around on your heels and pushing you by the back of your neck to lay against the cool granite. one hand going down to grab at your thigh and hook it up on the counter, drooling at the way your pussy glistens from the angle. he shoves his dick back in without a warning, feeling your ass collide against him harsh yet fervid.

you both pant in rasps when his cock hits a sensitive spot inside you. he shifts to angle himself just right to repeatedly brush against that spot and you mewl out loud at that, so loud your neighbours probably know what you're up to.

“fuck i can't stand not seeing your cute face,” jake bends over to grab you by your throat, pulling you up and flush against him, head resting back at his shoulders as he forces to look at him, fingers gripping your jaw softly,”eyes on me, okay baby?” grunting from deep within his chest, a wild grin on his face as he watches you get lost in ecstasy,”i’ll get you addicted to my cock,” just like how addicted he already is with your pussy and everything about you.

his other hand reaches up to tug the front of your dress down, groping up one of your tits, a silk touch to see your reaction. loving the way it's so obvious how sensitive you are there. mouth parting open with you in sensuous gasps as he twists your nipple harshly, rubbing the tip with his thumb. your walls clench a little too hard and your back arches off as you push your hips back into him, the tell tale signs of you getting close,”my baby's gonna cum for me?”

holding your jaw to have your eyes trained on him, he unexpectedly inserts his thumb in your mouth pressing against your wet tongue, your red swollen lips too tempting to resist,“fuck yes, show me how pretty you cum,” you mumble out a series of incoherent words in hazy chant.

the hand on your breast slips down to your lower abdomen pressing rashly against his bulge, feeling faint movement of his cock deep inside you. fuck you're so small and delicate. his hold on you tightening as his calloused fingers find your neglected bud, rolling it in quick, tight circles. it's so painful yet you feel so good, tears wailing down your cheeks as your orgasm crashes hard, overwhelming and violent, thighs trembling and pussy clenching uncontrollably. jake's continues to rub your clit, helping you ride out your high. eyes fluttering shut, and swallowing thickly at the sensation of you creaking over his sensitive length, cock throbbing impossibly hard.

jake refuses to stop even after you have come down,”one more candy, i know you can do one more for me,” hips hammering into you at full force, and lips finding yours in ragged breaths. and it dawns on you what exactly you have gotten yourself into when you feel the two of his fingers protruding at your entrance, trying to push in beside his cock,“if you try to close your legs i'm gonna punish you,” he warns making you whine into his mouth.

in a flash he turns your body to face his, quickly shoving his cock and fingers back into you. his other hand spanking the skin of your ass and kneading it a soft caress after. he eyes hypnotized at the view of you taking him in, a white ring of your cum adorning the base of his cock. he spits at your clit, once again toying with the engorged bud, pinching and flicking,”“gonna make you cum until you pass out, fuck i really wanna do that⁠—” your hand darts out to grip at jake's wrist, feeling too overwhelmed with hypersensitivity. wanting to shy away but the pleasure’s so good you can't bring yourself to push him away.

“but it's your first time,” jake mumbles between hoarse grunts.

before you can even realize it yourself your third orgasm courses through you vehemently. body jerking and twitching, almost falling over if not for jake's hold. jets of cum gushing out as you moan loud.

feeling you spill down his cock, all warm and tight, his brutal rhythm falters,”fuck- ‘m gonna cum,” eyes locking with yours as he thrusts once, twice and then stills, burying himself deep, streams of cum shooting out. hot spurt after spurt, swollen cock twitching against your walls. goosebumps all over, his legs quiver from how hard he came.

he stays quiet and motionless for a while, his arms wrapped around your shaking body. breathing in the scent of your shampoo, trying to calm his pounding heart and cock.

“you good candy? i’m sorry, i think i went a little rough on you,” you nuzzle into him in quiet,’its okay’ as he strokes your head, leaving fluttering kisses over your face. picking you up by the thighs he brings you to your bed, laying you down and gently pulling out. groaning at the way all your mixed cum oozes out, pretty little hole clenching around nothing.

exhausted, you let your mind drift, feeling the drowsiness kick in while jake bends between your legs with a wet towel. whining wearily, when his lips wrap around your nub in a suck, the wet sensation of his tongue against your clit like a shot of electricity,”sorry, baby just had to do that once,” he knew he didn't just call you candy for nothing and he was right. grining sheepishly as he wipes the rest of the cum off, cleaning you all up.

“you're nasty,” you manage to whisper out.

“only for you,” the touch of his body is hot and comforting, arms around your waist cuddling closely(and half naked).

“let's shower together in the morning, wanna eat you out so-”

“jake!”

“what? it's the truth!”

the following around four in the afternoon before jake has to leave for his soccer practice, you approach him on the couch, as always re-watching an episode of vincenzo. you haven't talked much about labels, but it's known to everyone that you're sorta together. more like jake is taken by you. his friends weren't too surprised to know about you both, it was obvious jake had the hots for you and from the little hangout at the restaurant they figured it all worked out for him.

“incoming, pocky!” you sit beside him with a banana flavored pocky stick between your teeth, leaning in teasingly.

“oh you want me so bad,” he plays along inch closer and biting it off in a snap, lips barely brushing against yours.

pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed into his chest, he locks you in place, chuckling at the way you attempt to escape. his fingers twirling the ends of your hair as you surrender in seconds, switching to watching the show absent-mindedly,”my parents wanted to meet you,” he drops the bomb, tracing random letters on your skin to distract of the fact that he just mention a meeting with parents.

“as my roommate, actually,” quickly adding the important point, fingers poking at your cheeks like jello.

“so suddenly though?” you think back on all the things you have ever done to him, for them to want to see you. perhaps they think of you as a snobby girl who’s indulging their son’s already unpleasant habits.

“they’ve actually been wanting to meet you for the past three months, i was putting it off but now summer break is starting next week and i have no more excuses to give,” hugging you, he rests his head on the curve of your neck, breathing in the smell of watermelon that surrounds you after you had basically devoured a whole at lunch. “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to, i’ll talk to them,” he assures, not wanting you to feel obligated to agree, or force yourself despite being uncomfortable.

“no it’s okay, we can go meet them. how long will the drive be?” fumbling with his red knuckles, your mind wanders off to when he fingered you, growing hot and embarrassed all of a sudden. hardly listening in on his answers.

when jake leaves for his soccer practice, you find time to complete the trivial chores around the house. watering the plants with a pout, missing jake more than ever. you have completely different majors and you are not in any clubs either to stay after classes. the only time you spend together being the one at the apartment which is also cut down by his frequent practice sessions, sometimes in the morning during weekends and normally most evenings on weekdays. it makes you ponder on whether you should try out for any club, after all these years doing something else besides studying. but you have no idea what you should consider, having no knowledge on which clubs you could be eligible to join.

it takes you two whole weeks and a bunch of outfit checks to find yourself on your way to meet jake's parents. feeling almost weird and exhilarating at how his parents and his older brother welcome you. treating you so well even though they recognize you as nothing more than just his college apartment roommate who helps fix his laptop and tolerates the boy knowing the kind of womanizer he is. appearing more as a meeting with in-laws when you jake and you are not even official yet, more so they have no idea of what's going between you two.

they try their best to make you feel at home. during the lunch as jake had told them beforehand, his mother had a few sweet dishes prepared for you, coddling you just as jake does back at your unit. they talk to you about casual things including your likes and dislikes, what major you are in, whether jake treats you well, if you have any complaints regarding his behavior. it doesn’t feel as awkward as you as thought it would and you didn't have to put on any act as you prepared yourself to do.

in the beginning of your roommate journey, his accent, his voice was the first thing to attract you but slowly as you explored his personality you came to like him for more than just what attracted you to him. now you as you spend time with people closest to him, you understand where he got it all from. the sweet person he is, which you never expected a fuckboy to be, you didn’t even have an ounce of hope that he’ll acknowledge your presence in the apartment when you got to know about his playing around conduct. yet he turned out to be the sweetest boy you’ve ever come around in your life ( and the nastiest perhaps, )

when you are sitting alone with his brother, while jake is away downstairs to bring you something sugary to eat, his brother takes it as a chance to share his thoughts,“you know until i heard him call you candy a while ago, i was under the impression that 'candy’,” he quotes it specially with a movement of his fingers,“is supposedly a cheerleader fling of his after i saw the contact name showing up when he got a call the last time he was here,” giving you a sly look as he catches sight of jake approaching,“turns out it’s you, i never knew he is the type to give such sweet, unique petnames,”

before you leave in the evening, jake makes sure to let them know that you’re toegther, and that he’s not playing around this time. he’s willing to give effort into it and change his usual ways of living, to be better for himself and as well as for you.

on your way there you had thought of a lot things, had a lot of assumptions and expectations. even prepared yourself to hear things that’ll stick to you not so positively. but what stays in your mind now is completely unexpected and opposite of what you had internally composed yourself for. it’s all you can think of in the car and after you’re back in the comfort of your familiar apartment.

cheerleader, not a bad idea—

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

[fxllfaiiry]

❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me

★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.

★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.

★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet

Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.

You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 

He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 

Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 

“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 

“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 

“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 

“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully

“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 

“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 

This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 

He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.

He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.

He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 

Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 

He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.

Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 

In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.

He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.

But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 

He slept like a baby that night. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 

“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 

He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  

Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 

“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 

“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”

“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 

“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”

“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 

You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.

“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 

“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 

“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 

You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  

“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 

You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 

Positive. You were pregnant. 

“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 

“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 

“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 

“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 

“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 

“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 

“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.

[henneseyhoe]

Sunshine

Aaron Pierre x BLACK!FEM!Reader

ORDER:Coffee (Smut) Tea (Fluff), Strawberry Cheesecake (Hair Pulling) , Jelly Filled Donut (Creampie) , Vanilla Beignet (Blind To Love) and a Brownie (Sunny vs Grumpy) served by Terry Richmond.

SUMMARY: Shitty jobs are made worth it cause pretty, funny girls exist!(ig idk chile)

The Bakery! (link not working, will add soon!)

✮✮✮✮

“How the hell do you deal with that?”

Was what people would ask Terry when they saw you two together. You were loud, anyone could hear your laugh from miles away and your smile radiated bright happiness that annoyed most, especially in your field of work. You were enthusiastic about nearly everything, seeing the bright side to dark situations that some just couldn’t bear. Maybe that’s why Terry held onto you the way he did. He even gave you the nickname ’Sunshine’ to show.

Everything that was listed, he indeed was not. He was not happy go lucky, he was not enthusiastic about things he had to do and he definitely wasn’t looking on the bright side, for reasons that could probably be justified.

When he was happy, it was mostly because of you. You were best friends (or he was definitely YOUR best friend) and working together in close proximity made it so much easier for Terry to get use to you. It was hard for Terry not to crack a smile when you were constantly in a good mood, bouncing off the walls. You found the spots in him that were soft and poked at them until he gave in, you learned his humor and kept him laughing when he didn’t want to.

He couldn’t lie, he was growing accustomed to being with you, he could even say he loved having you around (he would probably never say that out loud) . He just couldn’t help but feel a little warmth in his chest when you were near, butterflies in his stomach when you made eye contact with him. Little did he know, you felt the same.

Your heart beat down on your rib cage faster than it was on your first mission. You loved a challenge, and Terry was exactly that, testing your abilities to be professional, dangerous, light on your feet, but also keeping your brand of being the happy person you were.

Whenever Terry came into work, even if it was just to train, you were up in his face cracking jokes like you hadn’t just ran two miles. Of course because he was a rank higher than you, he use to send you on about your way the first few times, a little annoyed with your presence and attitude until realizing he couldn’t get rid of you even if he tried. You were everywhere and the crew was slowly growing a liking to you too.

You were like a leech, as he would describe. A cuddly and cute one, but a leech nonetheless.

Coming up on the date of the official homecoming for soldiers, it was time to head back to your respective states and you offered Terry a day to spend with just the two of you, enjoying the scenery of downtown and all it had to offer..as friends, Which he accepted after a huff (which was obviously faked, his ass was happy you asked) . Somehow, Terry found himself not wanting to leave when night had came. Something he had NEVER felt before, and he hated it. He hated that he knew it was because of you too, nothing else. Hell, he didn’t even like the state he was in, he was ready to go when he landed.

Babysitting a beer in your hand, you two sit close around the fireplace of your apartment, or what was yours till tomorrow.

“Feel like we been here forever” He breaks the silence, sipping on his drink while staring at the flicker of the fire in front of you both.

You shrug.

“It kinda has been? Seven months, two weeks, five days, and 21 hours is a long time!” You nod, Terry giving you a look before stifling out the chuckle he tried so hard not to free. You smile, satisfied at how easy it was to make him laugh now.

“So!…You ready to go home to the missus?”

Terry raises a brow, swallowing the bitter drink in his mouth. “Missus?”

You hum, waiting for an answer, but he never confirmed.

“Yeah. I mean, you never said anything about a wife or a kid, but I just assumed-“

“Never said because I don’t have” He interrupts, laughing. He couldn’t even imagine what about him gave husband. He didn’t wear a ring, on the right finger at least, and he thought the flirting he did confirmed him to be single already..Or what he thought was flirting. The making sure you ate and drank every day and teasing about how many push ups you could do didn’t really connect the dots for you. You were looking for a more forward approach considering he was a blunt man.

“What the hell about me made you think I was married with a kid?”

You laugh along with him to save yourself the embarrassment. Truthfully, you asked on purpose to see if he was single or not. To your surprise, no one had snatched him up yet.

“I-…I don’t know. I just see a nigga like you and just expect it” You respond, the palms of your hands already sweating. Your body was once again defying you, you felt like you were in highschool again.

Terry’s laugh shrunk until it was no more and his eyebrows rose at your statement. “A nigga like me?”

“…Yeah. Ya know…” You trail off, shyly looking away. By now regret had already set in your stomach for bringing up shit and snooping in his business. It would have been easier to search his name in the database and read his files, keeping your stalker shit on the low.

“Hm…Elaborate, sunshine. I wanna know what that mean” He presses, his squinted eyes searching for yours, but you refused to give in and see what may have been rejection.

“Look” You huff, shaking your head. “I just mean…You are a very handsome man, and I expected you to be…spoken for? Can you even say spoken for when talking about a man?”

You both laugh, but tension was still thick in the air, you just didn’t know what kind of tension it would turn to. Whether sexual or awkward tension, your nerves were getting worse by the second.

Terry on the other hand seemed cool as a cucumber, his tongue subtly tracing the rim of his beer bottle as he thought to himself before taking his last drink, finishing the beverage off.

“I don’t think so, but still. I appreciate that…so”

“So…”

He tilts his head. You could see it all from your peripheral view. His strong presence demanded attention from you. It was like that while working and it happened to never change outside of it.

“You aren’t spoken for?” He asks, his shoulder softly bumping yours to pull an answer quicker.

You shake your head, simultaneously setting down your bottle.

“Not since a year ago. Maybe if it was possible to pack a niggas dick with you when you leave for work, it wouldn’t be inside your bestfriend, right?”

“…You shittin’ me?” He leans, almost shocked that anyone would dare to cheat on you. Not only because of the person you were on the inside, but also because you could be classified as a high threat even while ass naked. That’s just the type of woman he wouldn’t cross, even at his rank.

“Nope, deadass”

“Damn..” He mumbles. “Whatever nigga out here silly enough to let little miss sunshine walk the earth without being right behind her need his ass beat. Shit, i’ll do it for you actually”

You giggle. “You’re silly”

“Nah, I’m serious”

Who knew that conversation alone would end with you getting ate out by someone you considered a friend, someone who you looked up to just a little, someone who just admitted he’d fuck somebody up for you…maybe giving it up was justifiable.

On the couch with your legs spread to each side, you forced yourself to open your eyes and bask in reality as Terry began the journey of taking you apart and putting you back together again. He placed soft kisses around your lips and on your clit before he licked long strings from your entrance, then sucked, earning a soft gasp from you.

His hands gripped your thick thighs while holding them apart, his strength not allowing you to hide from him at all. He wanted to taste all you had to offer, his tongue doing all the hard work slithering inside of your warm walls as his nose nudged your clit. You tensed up with every nudge, watching as he freely put his face in it. He made it messy enough to admire when he pulled his mouth off of you, your pussy glistening like he just doused you in oil.

“Look at that, mmm” There was a grumble that came deep from within his throat. His green eyes on you made it so hard not to be bothered even with him not doing anything, your poor clit jumping with excitement as he spread your lips open.

“She happy to see me, huh?”

You moan and nod eagerly, bringing your hand to your mouth to suck on a finger. Terry smiles at that, sharp teeth flashing from under his lips. He just wanted to bite you all over.

“Yeah, I know. When the last time you had some?”

“I-I don’t remember” And you truly couldn’t. Nothing worth remembering.

“Yeah? Imma make sure you remember this shit” He ends off with a bite to your thigh, almost as if he was warning you for what’s to come before he dove back into your heat, slurping up your soaked clit. Your belly was doing summersaults, you could barely contain your volume. It seemed Terry didn’t care about his.

When he ate, he made noise. He moaned, grunted, groaned. He was having just as much fun as you.

Your legs had began to shake the longer he was down there, your hands gripping onto the top of his white tank since that was all you had to hold on to after he practically ripped your oversized shirt off of you beforehand, and you feared ruining the couch if you got to pulling on it.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m so close” You struggled to keep your eyes on him even with his staring back up at you, low lidded and dark. They beckoned you to stay, but pleasure had came rolling through like natural disaster and wiped all thought from your brain, leaving you a shaking, blubbering mess.

His mouth pulled off of you and his hand moved in place of it, rubbing your clit in tight circles.

“Feel it, baby. Let it happen” He coos as you fight against his hand, thighs closing around his wrist which he just smacked away and kept at it until he felt he was done.

“Stop moving, let that shit happen, baby”

You felt like you were literally about to float to heaven, back arching up off of the couch just to get away from the overstimulation.

“Okay! Fuck!”

He moves his hand and allows you to go through the motions, twitching until that special feeling left your center. “Good job, pretty girl” A kiss from him was placed beside your opened mouth as heavy breathing left you.

He gave you time to recover while undressing himself, items of clothing fluttering to the ground until he was in nothing but his shorts.

Your eyes never left his length as it bobbed out of the bottoms. You hadn’t even noticed there was nothing under the shorts till now..So all of that print you were eyeing was all him. He was nothing little, nothing that you had ever seen before and it almost made you ask if that was all of it, hoping he had added something extra, if possible. You wanted to taste him, to lick up the dribbling precum from his tip and test if you could take him in your mouth first, but Terry desperately wanted to be inside you. You protested, pulling him in and stroking his shaft to solicit him into going your way, but he was stern, nearly completely ignoring your advances and lifting you to your feet.

You yelped, legs wobbly from your first orgasm, but you had no need to worry about falling because you were lifted off of your feet as fast as you got on them.

“D-don’t drop me!”

You begged, holding onto him while he bounced you to catch you in the right position to fuck you good, your legs swinging over his arms and his hands cupping your soft ass.

“I gotchu, baby”

He reassured as he kisses your lips. You could smell and taste yourself all on him, slightly sweet and herbal from the beer. All while sucking on his tongue, you felt the tip of him swipe against your entrance, your heart beating so hard in your chest that you were convinced he could hear it, and it was the same for him. He couldn’t wait to feel you, to be connected in other ways than just conversation and friendship. He longed to know what it would be like, and when he got a taste, there was no turning back from then on. Not that he would want to, anyway.

There was no way you were getting away from him. You were strong, but Terry was strong. The man trained relentlessly and always being on his toes payed off at work and apparently in the bedroom too.

Your thighs ached with a burning sensation as he bounced you on his long dick effortlessly, the tip of him kissing your cervix ever so slightly, but he knew good enough not to hit it dead on, fearing hurting you in the process. You appreciate the thoughtfulness, seeing as you were already losing the part of your brain that made thought out decisions.

“So fucking deep!”

You cried out weakly, nails scratching down his broad shoulders, creating red streaks he’d try to hide with a long sleeve the morning after, the feeling of you still dancing on his tongue as he got dressed. He grunts, palms squeezing the fat of your ass as his pace never seemed to falter. He was determined to get you there. To feel you cum around his dick so hard that the neighbors would wonder if you were hurt, that they would think about calling the cops just to check on you.

“Cmon, baby. You a big girl, take this dick like I know you can” He encouraged you sweetly, voice unshaken and stable as if the ribbon of release in the pit of his stomach wasn’t threatening to come undone, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

It wasn’t long until he decided to change the position and lay you on your stomach instead, a soft pillow placed underneath your hips to make sure you could meet his height and your ass stayed up right for him. Before he entered back into your warmth, he took his time to spread your cheeks and licking up whatever your pussy had started to drip, earning whiny, pathetic mewls from you.

He licked from your clit to the winking rim of your asshole, the tip of his tongue circling around it before going back down to your sensitive bud, teasingly suckling on it softly.

You drooled into your sheets. You knew you looked so damn stupid right now, but you couldn’t help it with how he was turning you every way but loose.

“Taste so fucking good”

He says from behind you, fully standing now with a hand in your silk press and the other laid directly in the middle of your back to help that arch. He didn’t even have to guide his dick into you, you were so wet and open for him already that all he did was wind his hips back to line up with you and push forward.

You could swear your breath was being sucked out of your lungs with each inch he dropped into you. It felt so good that you could almost ignore him pulling on your hair, forcing your head back to meet him for a slow, nasty kiss.

“Fuck- My hair, Terry!” You whined against his plump lips, one of your hands reaching for his wrist, but the tugging only made it worse for you. The sharp stinging in your scalp oddly satisfied something within you, your clit twitching at the newfound feeling.

“Fuck it. I’ll pay for it” He grunts, his teeth tugging at the bottom of your lip.

You both kissed with teeth and all as he fucked you, your ass loudly clapping back on his toned body with every thrust. He felt every motion of it, the waves clashing with his hips so mesmerizing that he couldn’t help but wanna stare.

As he pulled away from your lips, he opted to grab a hold of your throat instead, your moans immediately getting caught.

He made sure to grab you by the part where it was safe to hold, safe enough to where you could still breathe a little, but still got the sensation to feel held.

“Why-“ You managed to choke out, yet you couldn’t finish a sentence.

He cracked an almost cocky smile then moaned out a curse, his dick violently throbbing inside of you and reaching beyond what you thought was gonna be his limit.

“Why what? Spit it out, ma” He teased, his low cut nails almost scratching up the side of your throat when his thrusts got more fluid, the man putting way more wine into every collision.

You began to cry out, him muffling them slightly by letting go of you and pushing your head down into the bed. He only fucked you harder when your arch fell with your hips, your legs giving out as your pussy cried right along with you.

This position had you feeling everything. From the tip of him grazing your gspot to the veins that traveled up his dick and massaged your walls, giving you texture that you never felt before.

Him demanding a word out of you was like speaking to a brick wall. You had already came without warning, now you were just wetting up the sheets with incoherent words spilling from your mouth. He imagined you fucked out under him like this plenty of times before but he never knew it’d feel and look this good.

“Shit! Keep doing that and imma cum” He warns, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to feel him fill you up to the point you were leaking. You began purposely clenching around him, the first squeeze prompting him to lay a smack on your ass, and the second one making his hips stutter against you. He could feel himself becoming lighter, a swirl of heat blooming in the bottom of his stomach.

“Nut in this pussy, baby. Let me feel it, please” You begged hopelessly, doing your best to keep a good hold on his dick until he released with a loud groan, grinding his hips into your ass. You could feel each and every spurt of his cum being released inside you, warmth and fullness is what laid in the bottom of your belly.

“Mmm, fuck” His hips bucked one last time before he was pulling out with a grunt, large hands gripped on your ass and spreading you apart to see what he had done to you.

“So pretty. Push it out” He demanded, and you abided by it, pushing his cum out of you until you no longer felt full.

✮✮✮✮

💌- I’m criiine, this was supposed to be a headcannon too- LMFAOAOA. and yall wonder why i take so long, lawd. i told yall, i cannot do shit right smh. Anyway! i hope you liked this, homegirl 😭 i also managed to get this out before my first college class so hallelujah! *does ring shout*. also this was the longest smut i wrote in a whiiile lmfao. a whole 3k+ words so yaaay! eb clap for henny and wish her luck on this class 😋

[usedpidemo]

Diplopia (Itzy Chaeryeong)

You don’t recognize these roads anymore. 

Uncertainty continues to cloud your mind as you closely follow the car in front. Most days, it’s the typical van housing the stars—down to the model, the wheels, the black paint job. In your time following them, the vehicle never changed, to the point where you have the plate number on speed dial.

Tonight is different. Instead of the usual activities, be it a fansign, festival or radio program, you’re following her home.

—————

The moment you step forward to have your album signed, the four girls’ eyes immediately light up. 

It isn’t the usual fan excitement idols have to put on in public. Instead, an excited energy coming from a place of recognizing something familiar—someone that they’re close with. 

Except you’re neither family nor friend. By all accounts, you’re just another fan completely indistinguishable from the rest. 

Even as they’re preoccupied with catering to the others’ requests, they’re exchanging glances, whispers among one another. 

You take a seat in front of Yeji, the first in line, curious.

“What’s going on? Am I missing something?”

She brushes it off nonchalantly, only casually smiling, a professional in masking her facade. “Not much. Just happy to see you,” she says, before adding her signature on the page and sending you off.

Same question, same result when it comes to Lia. You could have sworn they were all eyeing you intently moments ago. 

Even the charismatic Yuna is playing coy with you.

To be fair on their end, this is the fourth time this promotional cycle that you’re doing this song and dance. And there’s some within that crowd who are basically seeing them every other day. You’re not the most egregious fan in that audience.

“What’s going on? Am I missing something?” you ask Ryujin, confused by her humorous expression, a stark contrast. The others didn’t budge in the slightest when you tried questioning them, only telling you the same thing: that your presence makes them happy.

Fortunately, Ryujin is in the business of self-sabotage today.

“Ask Chaery—ow!” is her reply before getting cut off by a swift elbow to the rib from her seatmate, Yuna. She starts laughing along too. 

“Christ—will you shut up? You’re gonna ruin the surprise! Wait—ah shit.” 

Yuna realizes the mistake she’s made, and she can only grin and blush in embarrassment, falling face down on the table. To the untrained eye, it’s an amusing scene. None of the audience, not even the ones beside you understand what the commotion is about other than typical member to member playfulness and tomfoolery.

Finally, you come face to face with Chaeryeong, unbothered relative to the others. Her eyes light up upon recognizing you once again.

“Ryu can’t help herself, huh,” Chaeryeong remarks teasingly, her brows crinkling in playful annoyance at her senior as you slide forward the album. Shifting her quiet, unassuming frown into a subtle grin, she adds her respective signature, slipping a thin sticky note beneath the signed page. “Secret’s out. Check it once the fansign’s done. I’ll be waiting.”

Curiosity immediately gets the better of you as you try flipping the page, only to be stopped by Chaeryeong’s slap of your hand. 

Well aware of the cameras and her audience, she maintains character while whispering a warning to you, a secret only shared between two close acquaintances: “After the fansign, dum dum. Don’t make me regret this. The managers don’t know.”

“Can you at least give me a hint?” you ask, your nosiness growing bigger by the second. 

She leans forward, her eyes glinting with anticipation. Noticing the camera hanging from your neck, she points her finger forward, saying, “Make sure you hold on to that camera for me, will you?”

The managers and staff lead you back into the audience. Her eyes don’t linger as you’re dragged away, focusing on the next fan in line, acting like this conversation never happened.

—————

For the most part, the rest of the fansign proceeds as usual, with you taking your usual pictures of the members—especially Chaeryeong. Most of your gallery is dedicated to her. Apart from a few fleeting moments of shared eye contact with your camera, she pays no attention to you, posing primarily for everyone else. 

Finally, the members bid farewell and leave to the back. As you and the other fans are guided out of the auditorium, you open the newly signed album, peeling the sticky note wedged on the photobook.Two important instructions are written in cursive, strictly meant to be read by you and only you alone:

> Look out for a gray four door once the vans drive by. Follow me

> DON’T TELL ANYONE OR BRING ANYONE ELSE

Heading outside, you and the crowd watch several black vans driving off, presumably containing the members. Being that it’s already nightfall and with the cars having heavily tinted windows, no one can call their attention aimlessly trying to wave them goodbye.

For a good minute or two, you thought you were being played. As the crowd disperses, another vehicle stops at the red light, perfectly fitting the description given on the note. It passes by completely unnoticed and undetected—except by you. 

You anticipate the car to drive away too, and it does—until it pulls over to the side in the distance, far enough to be overlooked by everyone else.

And then you remember something else from that note, a third instruction:

> P.S. Only five minutes or else I’m leaving without you

Thankfully, you’ve parked your own car right in front of the theater, a walk across the street away. Getting out proves to take longer as several other vehicles are trying to leave at the same time as you. You’ve never been more tempted to blast that horn; this is more stressful than the usual late afternoon traffic jam. There’s a greater sense of urgency. Higher, more personal stakes. Every second wasted waiting in line is another second separating you from Chaeryeong.

Even after escaping the parking area, there’s the red lights. One after another, you’re forced to stop, slowing your already short sprints. More time being wasted. To make matters worse, the road you’re taking is glaringly quiet. You’re cursing these signs, cursing the government for stalling for time, as if their primary design and purpose is to fuck you up. 

You end up running past these lights, unable to take another second longer. No one’s stopping you, nor is there anyone in the vicinity who can. There are cameras catching you breaking the law, but you don’t care anymore.

Mercifully, the car is still there, sitting idle with the lights on. Pulling up beside the vehicle, you flash your blinkers, roll the windows down, hoping she recognizes you. You earn no reaction, instead the car merely drives off, leaving you to follow close behind.

The next hour and a half has been spent driving and driving. Passing through avenues then motorways, you’re leaving the city far behind in your rearview mirror, until you’re the only pair of cars traveling along a quiet suburban neighborhood. Considering they’re wrapping their latest promotional cycle today, logic would dictate that the group stay together a little more before dispersing, but you didn’t expect them to branch off right away.

No wonder the members were already sharing vacation plans and destinations earlier.

Cruising past one street after another, every townhouse looks the same, down to the layout, dimensions, everything. Based on all the utterly dark interiors, it’s safe to say barely anyone lives here. 

Even some of the apartments you’ve been in look nicer compared to how barren and lifeless this neighborhood is. 

It’s not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of celebrity homes. 

Eventually, the car ahead pulls into a driveway of a distinctly nicer villa, one that has moderately rich written all over it. Anyone can tell that a celebrity, or at the very least, some wealthy person retreats here, but perhaps that’s the point: you’re in the heart of the suburbs, free from the fast-paced chaos of city living.

From the driver’s seat, someone emerges. You can recognize that familiar sharp glare. It’s none other than Chaeryeong herself.

She’s staring in your direction, at your car. Though you’ve been following her tail closely throughout the lengthy drive, you pulled back once she pulled into the driveway, leaving quite a considerable amount of space to maintain privacy. Then, she walks in. Lights open throughout her house, the only home brightly illuminated on this street.

Figuring that it’s an invitation, you pull up directly in front of her house. 

Rolling your window down, you take the camera resting on the passenger seat. Shaky fingers right on the trigger, her house in center view, you end up not taking a single picture. Not for lack of storage, but rather an unwillingness to have something personal in your collection. The girl who shows out in the public eye is one thing, but addresses and private homes are entirely separate matters. 

You feel it’s best to keep those two aspects apart.

You end up putting the camera away, curious about its purpose, about what she really meant about the need for it.

Staring up at her villa, you finally spot her again. Chaeryeong’s standing near the balcony, curtains open, giving you a clear view of her figure from the side, as well as her profile. Even from a distance, you recognize all the details about her. So incredibly pretty. She doesn’t seem to notice your presence outside nor does she bother to care. 

Still in her fansign wear, her last performance outfit, consisting only of jeans, a skimpy top, and a thick jacket. Going against your oath, you try reaching for the camera again, but you suddenly stop.

To your surprise, she slips the jacket off, revealing her bare shoulders. 

Your eyes widen, then your jaw slowly drops. She fiddles with her jeans before walking out of sight, much to your dismay. 

Now you realize the purpose. What a wasted opportunity. And yet, you’ve already taken dozens of mental pictures off that little show alone. This is meant to be for your eyes only.

Looking on, Chaeryeong reemerges into view, this time strutting around the living room. She’s hardly wearing clothes, only covered by skimpy black lace, matching colored suspenders holding up thigh high stockings. The windows are just as open, curtains similarly drawn back, granting you full access to her unbelievably tight, slender body.

She puts down a platter of snacks on the coffee table before taking one from the pile, holding it up for display. 

Your mouth is watering, craving not the delicacy in her hand—but for her.

The first snack she gives a slow, deliberate lick. A popsicle. Her tongue slowly glides up the frozen morsel, stimulating your mind, leaving nothing to the imagination. She repeats the motion a few more times before taking it into her mouth with an intentional hollowing of her cheeks, eventually sucking and munching down on the treat. All while flaunting her toned figure as if it were a photoshoot, which is probably what the camera was meant for. Your hands are nowhere close, instead pulling on the zipper of your pants, moving of their own accord.

Even though she doesn’t seem to pay attention to you, she clearly knows what she’s doing.

Next, she takes the second snack, one with a much more obvious connotation: a banana. She playfully wonders what to do, slapping it across her cheek before peeling the cover and eating from the exposed tip. She positions the fruit in a way that it's tilted up, mirroring the growing tent in your pants. Her fingers coil around the sides, her eyes fluttering close as she slowly indulges on the snack, slowly driving the length into her mouth till it’s completely consumed.

It may have only been a minute, maybe less, but you can imagine how the sensation would linger. Maybe hours.

Finally she grabs the last snack: a hotdog. She lays back on the couch, crossing her leg as she casually nibbles away, foregoing her natural seductiveness for a quick bite before wiping all the crumbs off her finger before getting up and leaving. 

Meanwhile, you’ve spent the whole time just watching her in awe, utterly speechless.You don’t regret not taking a single photo, knowing this little private scene is permanently seared into your memories. 

You can never look at Chaeryeong the same way ever again.

Moments later, the front door swings wide open, with Chaeryeong standing there in all her glory. She stares you down, her gaze sharp and hypnotic, before walking away without uttering a word.

You fell under her spell a long time ago. Now you’re following her like a moth to a flame.

Without care for guest etiquette, you enter the house, losing sight of Chaeryeong as you continue to struggle with your trousers. Looking left and right, you try to find her to no avail, when suddenly you’re dragged into one of the rooms, feeling a tugging, inescapable tug on your arms. 

“Did you enjoy my little show?” she whispers, tone sultry, a leg naturally wrapping around yours. She’s breathing on your neck, softly nibbling your skin. 

Cornering you, you fall backwards and onto the couch. 

It’s a different couch, different room, with the curtains covered, hidden away from the outside world.

You merely glance up, still utterly speechless. Her sexy glow is on full display, feeling herself like she always has, perhaps even more so in private than in front of the flashing cameras. Based on her subdued reaction, this isn’t the first time she’s seen this exact reaction.

“Where’s your camera?” Chaeryeong quickly changes conversation right as you’re about to hit your tipping point, her hands gripped to your knees, leaning forward and closing the gap between you two, her sharp glare freezing you in place. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you holding it just now. What did I tell you earlier?”

“Shit, I—I didn’t think this would happen,” you sputter, swallowing your throat. Even blinking proves to be impossible under her suffocating control. 

Chaeryeong narrows her eyes. Stares right into your soul. Her usually soft, little smile on her lips disappears in real time. You can feel her nails dig sharply through the fabric of your trousers, scratching you. Deathly silence permeates longer than you can imagine. It’s a terrifying position to be in. 

She bites on her lower lip, thinking of what to do. 

Then, the idea hits her like lightning. 

“I’m normally a lot more ruthless towards people like you. I mean, simple instructions. Hold onto that camera. Easy! A kid could do it without a second thought. Why can’t you?”

If you could open your mouth right now, you would justify that it was under extraordinary circumstances—such as this one—but you recognize the wrong answer could send you to an early demise.

“I would ask you to leave and tell you to forget this ever happened. But since I’m in a good mood today, I will let it slide tonight.”

You still can’t breathe a sigh of relief; her ironclad grip has spread to your crotch.

As soon as your lips quirk ever so slightly, her nails burrow deeper into your skin, almost forcing you out from your seat and yielding out a cry of pain that could have been ear shattering, if not for your self-restraint. “However—I can’t let you go completely unpunished. You must face the consequences for disobeying me. Got it?”

“Got it,” you spit, frantically nodding along, begging through your eyes for her to loosen the grip as the pain becomes unbearable. She acquiesces, drawing her hands back. 

Now you can actually breathe.

But the freedom lasts for merely a moment. Chaeryeong struts around the room, putting on music through some speakers, her hips swaying in a natural yet hypnotic rhythm. From behind, you get a close-up view of her plump ass peeking through an incredibly thin thong. She then returns to you, shoves you back against the couch before squatting down on your lap in an abrupt manner, leaving you gasping for air.

“Just because I let you watch doesn’t mean you have to be a sitting duck,” she says, grinding her hips slowly against your helpless erection, aching and throbbing beneath your pants. Sultry as it sounds, it’s a serious matter, one with so much on the line. “You didn’t seem all that lazy when you were taking pictures of me earlier. What happened? Do I look too sexy for you now?”

Chaeryeong lifts herself off you again, her waist and flat tummy presenting themselves in your face. You try to grab, but she quickly sideswipes you, teasing and playful. She spins around, her plump cheeks raised up in your direction—and then she smothers you on the couch. 

Pulling back, she looks over her shoulder, completely by surprise, gyrating her hips, giving you exactly what you want. “Well? Are you just gonna sit there or what?”

Truthfully, yeah. You can sit back and admire her in this position all night long. 

As you try to dive headfirst into her plump cheeks, she lunges forward, leaving you sucking on air. She then grabs you by the chin, tilting your face up. There’s a contemptuous, disgusted air on her face, judging your patheticness. The contrast between you couldn’t be any more clear. She’s so well refined, even in her most risque appearance. Meanwhile, you look hungry, down horrendous, foaming at the mouth—literally.

“Maybe I really should take a girl home one of these days,” she mutters to herself, thinking of other ways to drag you down. “But since you’re tired, I’ll spare you the extra effort, sleepy head.”

Chaeryeong shoves you down on the couch, lifting your legs off the ground and onto the sofa’s arm. The control she has on you cannot be any more overstated. Crouching on her fours, arching her back, she hovers atop you with a coy smile. Sexiness looks natural on her, but behind that fatal sultry attitude, her idol sensibility rears its familiar head, perfectly balancing the line between entertaining an imaginary audience and one person.

It’s a lovely, surprisingly sweet view before the lights completely go out.

Climbing over your defenseless body, her thighs close in between your face. Slamming down without care, pressure builds—and builds—until you’re kicking and squirming. She hears your muffled cries, your helpless groans, and mocks back, not letting up.

“What’s that? Can’t hear you over the sound of your tongue shoved up my pussy.”

At first, everything proves to be a struggle. You have no control over your movement, hands included. She’s forcing you to bear the weight of the world: countless hours of practice, interviews, and fanservice, including now. If she wanted, she could crush you with her thighs alone, and she wishes she could; she’s not going to outright tell you. Mercifully, upon closer inspection, she’s wearing the thinnest line of panties imaginable, it barely qualifies as underwear.

With the meager space you’re graciously provided, you slip your tongue between the narrow line between fabric and skin–and Chaeryeong keens. 

Even her little cries are as pretty as her too.

The edges of her nails dig into the fabric of the couch, barely scraping your arms. She hisses sharply as you gradually acclimate to the tension she’s forcing on you, burying your tongue into her aching core. Her nectar tastes incredible, like water in the desert. You’d tell her that if you weren’t so preoccupied taking all this glistening sheen generously into your hungry, greedy mouth. The way her body trembles, quivers with every little touch, every swipe at her throbbing cunt, setting off one fire after another, it’s enough to drag her down with you.

“Oh—fucking shit—fuck—”

Her thighs hunker down, reinforcing the already airtight lock you’re imprisoned in between her legs. She’s one wrong move away from snapping your neck by sheer force alone if you weren’t dying from asphyxiation already. It proves to be nothing but a mild inconvenience. You’re hungrily eating out her intoxicating cunt, drinking away at her alarming flow of juices, maintaining a pace that feels just right. 

Desperately trying to find some semblance of stability, she rolls her hips, but that only worsens her state—and better for you. 

Gripped to the sofa’s headrest and on the cushions, the friction makes it easier to make a grander mess of her. You match her frantic pace, lapping away at her folds without a care, a retaliation of sorts. Her cunt is an addicting vice you can't get enough of, regardless of her juices spilling relentlessly past your mouth.

Overwhelmed by the pleasurable sensation coursing throughout her lithe body, Chaeryeong twists and contorts into a stretched out figure of limbs and cries. Furniture is easily replaceable. The position you’re in happens once in a lifetime. This idol, whom you’ve dedicated your personality and entire life around, meeting her dozens of times and taken countless photos of for the world to see, is now reduced into a helpless, melting pile of flesh and moans, keening in ecstasy, her echoes bouncing endlessly in the comfort of her personal home, and it’s all thanks to you. 

Very few can say they’ve made Lee Chaeryeong cum.

“Fuck!” 

A single word is all she manages, and it’s perfect. 

Letting out this thunderous cry, her body goes rigid and tense, as if something has snapped within her. Right then and there, a fresh wave of arousal gushes over your face, falling all at once. 

The throbbing never ends. You lap it all up. Every last drop. 

Despite the endless amount of slick you’ve consumed and time drinking from her well, it’s not enough. You’re left wanting more.

“Jesus—” she mutters, heaving between deep breaths, slowly peeling herself off you then collapsing to the floor. “I didn’t think you’d be this good.”

Despite her orgasm ripping through her body to shreds, Chaeryeong is the first to recover. She surveys the damage. Slick all over your pressurized face, so much more on the couch, your tongue actively licking up whatever mess it can clean, which doesn’t go far. 

There’s no shame on your lips when she looks at you. Contentment is etched on your lips. You could die happily right then and there. 

Her cheeks are completely flush, taken completely aback by your effort. Her panties are in tatters, utterly soaked, more valuable being thrown away than as actual clothing. “Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought.”

Satisfied as you are, her gentle, sincere compliment makes your heart race faster than the pressure being crushed beneath her ass.

But the sweetness lasts only for a moment. She can’t settle down. There’s so much you have left to give—and she’s going to force everything out till you’re an empty husk. You’re only getting started.

“Get up,” she says, less of a command and more a call to action, lifting you off the sticky couch with her resounding strength, leaving you behind to stand on your two wobbly feet. “Now strip.”

Her words seemingly fly through deaf ears. You stare aimlessly back, stuck in a neverending daze, unable to come to your senses. Chaeryeong is not having any of that, glaring you down with piercing daggers. The night is fleeting; time is of the essence.

She pulls you by the hand and drags you to the bar counter across the room, facing you to remove your shirt in a few swift motions. The pants come off faster, already unbuttoned and unzipped, leaving only your boxers. 

“Fucking slow fuck,” she spits, nearly ripping your undergarment while pulling down, giving your now freed cock a punishing, ironclad squeeze, forcing an agonizing groan from your lips. “Just because you did one thing right, you think you can have it your way now? Pathetic.”

Chaeryeong drops to her knees, pressing her tongue against the tip of your throbbing cock. The brief, feathery contact is enough to send mind numbing chills down your spine. It’s no surprise that when she takes you into her mouth, you almost crumble immediately. The feeling is too overwhelming, you don’t even get a glimpse of the filthy sight. 

It shouldn’t be this dangerous.

The pull on her long, raven hair happens impulsively, as if you had some control—which you desperately need. 

A flick of her tongue here, a swirl there—Chaeryeong is a meticulous worker, slowly picking you apart in calculated, intricately designed moves. Every little thing she does is performed like there’s so much weight behind them, no different from dancing and singing on stage. It’s all in the little details: the tilt of her head, the satisfactory hum from her lips, the cold, unforgiving glare she gives when she’s sucking you dry, seeking your approval, refusing any answer other than ‘fuck yes.’

If you could function as normal, you would reason to her that you’re relishing the moment, savoring every second—but she seems to have your mind read like a book.

“Thank your lucky stars you seem to have everything I need.” She slides her tongue up your length, kissing the tip again. You’ve been off the ground ever since with no way back down. “Good ass mouth, big fucking cock—”

She suddenly stops when you tug on her hair again; it’s a harsh pull. Momentum grinds to a complete halt. Your heart drops at the realization. You anticipate her to retaliate appropriately, especially when she rises from her knees. 

Instead, she mostly relents, but not without gripping your balls tightly, yielding another heavy groan out of you. A warning. 

“You wanna pull on this hair? Fine. I’ll give you this one then.”

Spinning away from you, Chaeryeong unhooks her bra, tossing it aside to be forgotten. Leaning forward, she bends over the counter, back arched, ass up, her swollen lips in clear view. Her favorite position.

She doesn’t need to say a word to tell you what to do.

The invitation leaves you more hesitant than excited. You’ve realized just how frightening Chaeryeong can be. That is why you’ve been relatively silent and are quietly following along since entering her house.

Looking over her shoulder, knowing she isn’t railed at this point, her eyes glare at you with a raging fury, one borne of annoyance, as if you were testing her patience—and you are, to some degree. “Where’s that fucking bravado, huh? I’m letting you hit this pussy from behind, and now you don’t wanna do it?”

“Well—”

“Zip it. Now you want to talk?” She snaps, facing you again to grab your cock. Pressing your shaft up and down the entrance of her folds, she grits her teeth, gasping and sighing. Staring daggers into your soul, she continues between deep breaths, “Look at this,” she says, pertaining to your cock, slick with her saliva, slowly entering her dripping cunt with her guidance. “It’s not rocket science. Does this look challenging to you? Never had sex with anyone before?”

You can only shake your head, as much as you want to refute. Her house, her rules.

Chaeryeong slams her eyes shut as your cock impales her to the hilt. She’s leaning back on the counter, screaming out loud to prove her point. “See? Not—that—difficult.” she whines, her aching cunt stretching against your cock, engulfing you in suffocating heat. Slowly pulling you back like a sword plunged to your abdomen, you watch helplessly as your shaft reappears, lathered in slick and saliva, with time moving at a dangerously slow pace.

She hurls you forward that you’re leaning together on the counter, your naked bodies creating irresistible friction. It’s not as romantic as the movies or shows make it out to be.

“Stop staring at me like that.” Chaeryeong pushes you away before turning around, irate from perceiving you, having to guide you through your first sex session. “Just—fuck me already, dip shit.”

Grabbing her by the waist, you take your sweet time to admire her delicately crafted curves and her supple ass, bright red from crushing your face. Still, it only serves to upset her; she can’t stop herself from making snarky remarks about you. “Pretending like you want to appreciate me now when you’ve been jerking to all those photos you’ve taken of me. As if I don’t know—”

She suddenly yelps, her body dragged forward on the counter as you enter her from behind like she wanted it: hard and fast. 

“Never thought you’d be such a mouthful Chaery,” you comment, hooking an arm around her shoulder, the invigorating warmth of her pussy making you shudder. “And I always saw you as the quiet one.”

“Just because—you’re fucking me—doesn’t mean—” Chaeryeong struggles to get her point across as you get into a steady rhythm, your hips crashing into hers, her ass creating this wet, audible wave as you pound her. “Ah—oh fuck—”

“Doesn’t mean what, Chaery?” you hiss against her ear, giving her ass a rightful slap.

She lifts her head, her hands gripped on the table’s surface, keening—and moaning. 

“I—ah—this feels so fucking big inside me—”

You lean forward, whispering in her ear, before giving her ass cheek a well-deserved slap that ripples through the room. “This is nowhere near my first. Didn’t you hear me and Yuna backstage that one time? I should have known something was up the second she was blushing at me.”

“One time? Shit—I guess I forgot—o-oh fuck—dammit Yuna—”

“It’s on me for not figuring out everything right away,” you remark, holding her tight as your personal lifeboat, pushing yourself deep into her, foregoing any sort of foreplay or pleasantry for hard, relentless pounding. “Not the first time I’ve been inside an idol’s house and left with their panties, either.”

Chaeryeong is unable to respond, mostly due to your cock rendering her speechless, reducing her to a pliable mess of moans and screams. Her fingers drag across the wooden surface of the counter as you take her body to use at your leisure. You have absolute control, a stark contrast to where you were only mere minutes ago, and you’re going to reinforce your authority.

To think you were scared of her. The real Chaeryeong is right in front of you. Ass up, face down, bent over, screaming all sorts of profanities and lewdities that would have burned at the stake.

You’ve got her raven locks wrapped around one hand, the other on her ass. It’s a difficult balancing act. One minute you’re pulling on her hair between thrusts, making her cry out in pain and pleasure, the next you’re slapping her ass in retaliation for her attitude, having seen just how easily she folds at the slightest touch, whether it be your mouth or your cock. Either action leaves you so addicted, you have to remind yourself to slow down and focus on the important matter at hand: fucking her.

It shouldn’t be said, but here it is: her pussy is so intoxicatingly tight. Even with how copiously wet you are, gliding in and out of her feels like an impossible challenge. To make matters worse, she meets your every thrust with the crash of her hips, sending you further down a dizzying spiral. Chaeryeong loves it—loves the feeling of both dishing out punishment and receiving it. You pull on her hair again, another reminder of who’s currently in command, but you both know that’s not gonna last long.

Especially when you feel so close—your own undoing happening a lot sooner than you hoped. 

Still, she feels so good that it’s not any bit worth stopping—not that she’d ever want that, anyway. You’re resorting to other measures to keep some semblance of control alive: you’re squeezing her chest, feeling her taut nipples,lifting her leg off the ground, biting on her nape—anything to stave your mind off the very thought of cumming, because any sign of weakness is her opportunity to ruin you. 

“Are you gonna cum yet?” Chaeryeong asks—innocent in sound, but in your heart, a taunt. A challenge. 

You respond by slamming into her cunt like you always have: rough and merciless. She’s your toy, after all. 

Her echoes remain louder than your grunts and moans. It’s a good thing her neighbors are completely nonexistent. The houses around might as well not be there. 

So much runway to fuck, to cry out in pleasure.

“Almost,” you shamefully admit, against your own wishes—and to her delight. “This fucking pussy—Chaery—oh my God—”

You seize her by throat and face her down on the counter, your thrusts unceasing, unrelenting. You’re winding down; the end is in sight. She smells of sweat, sex, and active perfume from earlier, and it’s a perfect concoction. Slapping away at her ass, watching it ripple with each hit and thrust, her back arching in new, twisting angles, your cock perfectly sandwiched between her slick folds, you’re taking all the mental pictures you can get before this lovely view disappears for good. It really is a damn shame, but here’s your silver lining: no camera can truly capture how glorious this scene looks, especially from your eyes.

“Gonna cum,” you sputter, pouring on the vicious strikes on Chaeryeong’s supple cheeks, desperate to cling on. You can’t deny it any longer; your body is in absolute rapture, begging for release.

“That’s it. Use my fucking pussy,” she snaps, her voice airy and hoarse from all the moaning and screaming. “Fuck all your cum into me. Don’t waste a single drop.”

You have no intention to, especially with a cunt that’s so tight, so hot, it’s practically inviting you to unload everything. 

And so with a handful of strokes, you finally fold. Burying deep inside her wanton cunt, your cock throbs violently, blasting thick shot after shot of sticky, white cum just as she wanted. Chaeryeong’s name burns through your lips like a permanent mark as you climax. The release feels more like a consequence than relief. She’s something you can’t clean yourself of—and probably never will. A stain that will follow you for the rest of your life. 

Still, she welcomes you with open arms. Her pussy milks you worth of every little drop, squeezing and quivering in your wake. You end up letting go of everything: her hair, her waist, your entire load. The only thing willing to stay is your cock impaled deep inside her soaked cunt, but even that thin connection snaps.  Even though she’s bent over, having taken all the pounding, pulling, and punishing, she’s the one that ends up on top. 

Pervading silence fills the house, in place of the unrelenting noise. Slumping forward, you lay on top of Chaeryeong, meeting her in the middle: your bodies intertwined, filled and satisfied.

Brushing her hair aside for a better look at her sweaty, flushed profile, you both look into each other’s glazed eyes with a warm smile. You prepare to give her a kiss, when suddenly, little footsteps can be heard.

Someone’s standing in the hallway.

Her voice echoes throughout the house. “You left the front door open again, sis. You should really close them before going down on your guests.”

A woman stops directly in front of your room, her appearance cut close in Chaeryeong’s image. The girl beneath you waves at her with an innocent smile. The pornographic position you’re in is anything but. 

She doesn’t look too surprised. 

“Fucking me wasn’t enough, huh? You just had to fuck my sister too.”

Climbing up the stairs, Chaeyeon sighs wistfully, exhausted from her own busy activities. Chaeryeong slips away from underneath, following her sister closely. She can’t help but shoot a playful grin at you upon realizing your secret. 

“I’ll fire up the showers. You can join us if you want.”

—————

The shower wasn’t meant to provide some form of reprieve. In reality, it’s an excuse to keep the fire burning, especially down in your loins.

The faintest contact leaves you weak, nearly crumbling to your knees as you join the two women in the shower, leaving you open for their enjoyment. Even with the hot water pouring over you, you remain frozen in place, trapped beyond saving. The Lee sisters take you in as a guest should be: with all the touching, kissing, and teasing you so desperately crave. Running water fills in background noise as the two siblings drop to their knees, taking one side for themselves, each with a stake in your cock. 

You get hard again. Impossible not to be when they seem to have a gauge of what makes you tick. Two girls who have firsthand experience handling your cock in their mouth: one who can effortlessly go through the motions, the other still fresh and eager to find new ways to break you in half. Both tilting up with a pair of lust-filled eyes, eager to get your approval. They don’t really need it; you had already given them your soul the moment you walked into their house.

“Fucking hell,” you manage to groan out—your eyes and head rolling all the way back as far as they can—as the two sisters take turns filling their hungry mouths with cock deep down their throats. The girls each let out a satisfactory hum of their own, pumping and squeezing you for a share of your load, certain you’ve still got plenty for two. To think you were insatiable when it came to eating out Chaeryeong’s pussy and ass. It was only scratching the surface of how rapacious they can be. 

Even with all the space the showers provided, you still feel small before Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong. More importantly, it was clear that, in their eyes, you were mainly an outlet of release and nothing else.

“Was he always like this?” Chaeryeong watches her elder sibling busy pumping your shaft away with her deft fingers, drawing more cum out of you, making up for lost time. Watching you this vulnerable—this whipped—makes you all the more intriguing in her eyes.

“Sure enough, yeah.” Chaeyeon laughs. It wasn’t that long ago you were held in a position like this: same girl, same scenario, but in a bathroom stall of all places. Now in the comfort of their home, you were clear to let out all that pent-up desire with cries of pleasure. You moan her name like it’s a prayer, and both girls chuckle at your wanton cry.

“How long?”

“Since I debuted solo. He’s always present in my fansigns. Didn’t he tell you?” Chaeyeon gives this cheeky look to her younger sister, an approving nod. “One time he told me he was now following this girl group, and I asked him who it was. Didn’t specify anything. I should have known right from the start.”

“Wasn’t only me he was fucking, I just found out,” Chaeryeong remarks, tone degrading. You’d be so red with shame right now, if it already weren’t the case. Whether it’s because of the steam or their unpredictable touch is up for interpretation. “And no, he’s never brought it up. I’m just finding out right now. But if so, he gets around—and he gets around good.”

“If there’s anyone you should trust, it’s me. He thinks he’s clever hiding this from you. I can hear that moan of his a mile away.” Chaeyeon smiles as she turns off the water, your bodies barely touching soap and shampoo, focused on leaving kisses and scratch marks instead. The soap in your eyes forced them shut to tell what’s happening, other than their near-indistinguishable voices and the blurriest of movements. All you know is their presence creeping up when you least expect it. “Come along, dear.”

Before you know it, you find yourself shoved onto a flat yet bouncy surface. A bed. It rumbles for a few moments before you feel your body tearing apart. In the midst of this uncertain commotion, their combined laughs and whispers fill the air. 

“Open your eyes, baby.”

Even when you can hardly tell who’s giving the command, you comply. Lo and behold, your arms are stretched and tied on opposite ends of the headboard. Your legs are spread wide, your cock glistening with spit and sheen, hard for the second time. The Lee sisters are kneeling on parallel sides of their own, around the edges, laughing at your precarious, defenseless position. 

It’s in your instincts to try and break loose. Of course, it fails miserably. Their laugh grows more uncontrollable and hearty.

“Not a chance. We’ve covered all bases so that even if you escape, you’re not making it far.” Chaeryeong speaks with a heightened air of arrogance. 

You furl your brows. “What? What do you mean—escape?”

“Don’t even try to run,” says Chaeyeon. “You—you’re not going to run?”

As if that was ever part of your plan.

“Why would I ever? I like you both!”

You’re speaking the truth, and it might just end up saving your life.

“I don’t think he’s buying it. You know, maybe he just really wants us.” Chaeryeong tries to whisper in her sister’s ear, but you can still hear it all.

Chaeyeon nods. “You might be right.” 

The older sibling crawls up the bed, tracing a path to your neck with her nails, leaving a lengthy trail on your skin. It’s as every bit sexy and seductive as the first time, even more when she’s completely bare. Chaeryeong mimics her, her arch more eye-popping. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree when it comes to their bloodline. “Since you want to stay, I propose a little game. Are you with me?”

“Yes,” you nod, tense and nervous, sweating starting to pour down your face.

“Let’s play a game I’d like to call,  ‘Guess the Sibling.’ I’m gonna place a blindfold and you’re gonna have to guess who’s bouncing on this cock,” Chaeyeon continues, going down your chest and giving your erection a playful slap. A little more force and she could have ended you. Mercifully, it’s only one flick. “If you guess right, then you get the rest of the night with us. Use us any way you want. But if you don’t—”

“—Then we’re gonna have our way with you,” Chaeryeong interjects. “And trust me, you wouldn’t want us to have our way with you.”

“What did I get myself into?” you mutter, wondering if the situation you’re in is a consequence of your actions. You’re not a bad person, per say; even the two girls would admit this. You’re just like any other fan—mostly: enjoying their songs, spending alarming amounts of money into merch and events, buying your way into fansigns, and taking photographs of the idols you love. You’re so spoiled, you end up sharing that love with others. 

At best, this was stuff of urban legend, of myths, of over the top fantasies. None of this was meant to happen.

Yet here you are, tied up on a bed by your two favorite idols in the world, ready to be used like a toy for their personal use—and pleasure. In the little time you’ve personally known these two, you didn’t expect them to be this obscene and assertive. You won’t be able to look at them the same way after this—if you can even get out alive.

Chaeyeon wraps a thick cloth around your eyes, completely blocking your vision. The last thing you see is Chaeryeong kneeling before you, spreading them wide, rubbing her hands up and down your legs.

“I would say good luck, but I’d like to think you’re familiar with us that this should be easy for you,” Chaeyeon remarks before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Look at that. Your friend over here is a little too excited.”

You wince at the airy touch. Unsurprisingly, you can’t tell what’s going on, guided only by familiar sensations, patterns and recognizable sounds. Still, you can’t really tell their voices apart. It doesn’t help that they both have long flowing dark hair either.

Taking this deep breath, anxious about what’s about to happen, they still catch you off-guard. You scream a guttural cry, feeling the weight of the world crash on your hips. “Oh f-fuck!”

Right there, you hear a sharp, ear-piercing whine—a shout that rips through the bedroom. Your cock is bulging through something far tighter than normal. Not even your previous experiences with Chaeyeon ever went this far. “O-oh shit! S-so fucking—tight!”

“You heard her. Deeper, babe.”

Your hips move instinctively, as if activated by her voice. Either of them works. They live in your mind rent-free. It’s only natural to follow them like your life depends on it, and considering your situation, it’s quite literal.

Despite how slick and wet you are, it proves to be a struggle at first. It resists, pushing back as hard as it can, but you don’t relent. Feels good enough to be worth saving. An impossible challenge at first, you eventually feel it—your tip sinking deeper into her hole, inch by inch. As it penetrates the girl on top of you, her whine climbs a pitch higher, then higher, until she’s outright shrieking. 

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit—so fucking big, so fucking big—”

She’s running her words fast, as if her mouth’s aimlessly mashing on a keyboard. The same harsh feeling stretches through her tight, smaller hole, until eventually you bury yourself to the hilt, and she keens. 

“Oh my God—o-oh God—fuck!”

She struggles to acclimate to the new presence deep in her ass. She can’t stop it, nor can she ever hope to contain it. There’s only person who’d want it this bad from behind.

“Feels good, right Chaeryeong?” you guess, gritting through your teeth as the suffocating sensation also overwhelms your senses. 

Right then and there, she begins to move. Lifting herself off you, dragging her plump cheeks along with brute force, threatening to tear your cock off too—until she squats down on your hips and creates much needed friction on your end. 

There’s no denial or direct admission, but you know in your heart of hearts that you’ve won. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree when it comes to the Lee siblings. Both dangerously hot sisters with toned bodies worth admiring and worshiping. Such a shame that your hands are bed bound right now, otherwise you’d be all over them. Chaeyeon or Chaeryeong, it doesn’t matter—they’re equally deserving of every lick, every touch, every thrust out of you.

For now, you will have to settle with her ass.

“Harder—a little more—right there—” she manages to spit between hip thrusts and grinds. You happily oblige, relishing the sensation of her tight hole, vigorously flexing and pulsing against your cock. She moves frantically, as if desperate to shake you off. All the more reasons to be loose and free, so you can feel her slinky waist with your bare hands. Still, she’s compliant enough to keep bouncing on your lap, drowning in her own ecstasy to care about comfort, only more pleasure. 

“God, this ass feels so fucking amazing—Chaery—” you tell her, a statement so obvious, but worth saying regardless. The slick, satisfying sound of flesh slapping flesh bouncing off the four walls, the shockwaves of her skin rippling on your groin, and her elated, blissful moans more than makes up for the lack of sight. And perhaps if you can cum sooner, you can see the light at the end of the tunnel quicker.

But it’s not enough. Chaeryeong can—and will—drain you of all your worth, especially at the frantic pace she’s going. Her ass owns your cock with a vice grip; again, she feels incredible, and you’re bound to each other, down to your souls.

There’s only one way you’re getting out.

“Get on top of me, Chaen.” You call to her, knowing she’s lurking around the room. You can also tell that she’s eager to get her share of cock.

Chaeryeong continues to bounce relentlessly, , your pace leisured and measured for maximum longevity. She lingers for a few moments, till you feel that weight on your lap suddenly disappear without cause.

“My turn,” says Chaeyeon, landing her tight asshole straight onto your cock. No preamble, no preparation, just crashing out. This time, with a much smoother, more effortless entry compared to her sister’s. She lets out this whiny, feathery moan in response to being filled for the first time, with you only mildly groaning in response.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” you remark.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes you are.”

The room goes silent for a moment—except for the heavy breaths of one collapsed Chaeryeong.

Light immediately pervades your newly freed eyes, having the blindfold taken away. On your right, Chaeryeong slumps on the bed face down ass up, her puckered hole glistening and freshly leaking. A bottle falls off the edge and onto the floor. Elsewhere, Chaeyeon’s body rests on your waist, your cock buried deep inside her tighter entrance, clearly demanding your attention. 

Except she’s completely facing away from you.

“Was she—”

“Yes.” Chaeyeon sounds annoyed—devastated even—that you’ve managed to outsmart her at her own game. “I can’t believe you really went after my sister. Was I not enough for you?”

“You are. It always meant to be you two from the start. You’re both hot.”

She sighs.

“Can you at least—at least—fill my ass up?” Chaeyeon looks over her shoulder, frowning. “Please let me have one over her.”

“What do you mean? I’ve given you everything,” you reply, recounting all your previous experiences with her. “Backstage, in your apartment, in your car—hell, even in a goddamn public bathroom stall. What else do you want from me?”

Just as Chaeyeon is about to open her mouth, her sister interrupts. Voice hoarse and cracking, she says, “Just go. You were his first. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, you heard her. I don’t mind. Besides, I’ve got the rest of the night to take her as I please, right? Like you said?”

There’s not much else to say. You can see the faintest smile on her lips as she looks away. 

Likewise, your smile fades when she lifts herself and slams into you, hard. Filling her needy, wanton hole with your cock. Just off this one swift motion alone, you recognize that Chaeyeon is much more desperate. 

Using all that pent-up need and desire as fuel to power every ram onto your cock. Her mark lingers on—far longer than Chaeryeong’s. It’s much more personal. You can feel how badly she wants you—needs you—beyond sexual pretense. The idea of you taken away by the one other person she loves the most—it sets her off, motivates her to prove that she’s worth more.

Unlike the playful and fun Chaeryeong, every thrust, every roll, every grind Chaeyeon does is intimate, passionate. Pounding into her tight ass, you can see pleasure course throughout her body, trembling in one violent aftershock after another. She’s uttering these little pleas, gentle desires while riding you hard. “More—like that—please—please—don’t stop—please—”

Chaeyeon knows you’re the one responsible for making her feel this way, make her feel all sorts of emotions. Love, hate, jealousy, anxiety—they’re only scratching the surface of just how much you mean to her. She’s unraveling, and fast. The only way she can find release is, as you expect, through you. An outlet for all her feelings. 

You’re quite literally stretching her out, both physically and emotionally.

As you watch your first love fall apart like this, you can’t help but feel remorse. Chaeyeon is pretty, and so is her sister. They’re the splitting image of each other, and you wouldn’t feel like a fool for mixing them apart, despite the repeated statements from them not being twins. It’s only because of your strange obsession with the two that you can tell them apart.

That, and your complicated relationship with Chaeyeon, as idol and fan.

Ultimately, she can take it. She’s been through a lot, way more than anyone else you know, and she’ll get back up again. Including now.

So it stands to reason that she can take your pounding better than anyone else.

Gripping her hands on your knees, she rides you vigorously, dictating the pace, without much care for comfort. The clench is asphyxiating, borderline inescapable, but you’re still gliding in and out effortlessly, watching your cock disappear and reappear in her ass. As the flesh ripples and slams down with each thrust, the lewd sight alone is enough to upend you prematurely, if not for your resolve keeping you fastened to the earth.

“God—you’re too good, Chaen—” you hiss, closing your eyes in a last-ditch effort to avert your thoughts elsewhere. Anywhere but her ass and  the tension suffocating you—but it’s not enough. The sloppy, wet sound of your bodies colliding penetrates even the most fortified parts of your ears.

“So fucking good, right?” Chaeyeon tries to straighten her voice in an effort to assert herself, only to find it crack, much like her idol facade. “Say it—I’m better than Chaeryeong. Say it!”

Even though her sister is lying beside you, every word is spoken loud and clear. You’re terrified.

“Do I have to repeat myself, baby? Say it!”

You don’t really have a choice. She’s riding you hard and fast, threatening to pull the plug two different ways, one far more unsatisfying than the other.

“Say it!”

“You’re better! Better than Chaery!” you shout, matching her erratic pace, dangerously treading on the line of no return. 

It finally sets Chaeyeon off—and ultimately ends her. 

Everything rolls into one emphatic word. 

“Fuck!”

Her body goes rigid, fingers still gripped to your skin as she unravels on top of you. She’s screaming your name up to the sky—or in this case, the ceiling—and she cums. Hard. Freely flowing clear slick gushes around and past your cock, shredding through the last of your already broken defenses, urging you to let go. 

Through the madness, you’re still relentlessly pumping into her, until you’ve fallen back into darkness again. It’s what she would have wanted.

Impaled to the hilt, you let out the deepest groan from the depths of your stomach as you cum into Chaeyeon’s ass. Blast after blast, you shamelessly empty every last drop inside her tight, sensitive hole, partly relieved—but mostly frustrated because your hands aren’t gripped to her supple flesh right now, ensuring she receives it all.

Despite her orgasm shredding through her body till now, she lifts herself off you in a single swift motion, much to your agony and despair. Resting on the edge of the bed, she’s positively glistening from her ass, dripping and leaking with your cum. 

You helplessly watch your cock throb and throb till it withers again. 

“God,” is the only word Chaeyeon can muster after everything, still unwilling to face you directly. Chaeryeong lazily rolls out of bed to rejoin her, resting her head on her shoulder, their hands intertwining. 

Silence fills the room after a tense, lengthy period of sex. None of you are willing to break it. 

You can only wonder what’s on Chaeyeon’s mind.

After a while, the two sisters get up and try to leave the bedroom, presumably to clean up—but not before stopping and realizing the elephant in the room.

They’re a far cry from when you first gazed your eyes on them. As you watch Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong free you from their binds, there’s this tired expression in their eyes. Not the typical post-coital gaze you’re all too familiar with; there’s a sense that they’re just about done—with everything. 

Including you. 

Chaeyeon offers you the same invite she gave previously when she first saw you with her sister in the living room. “Join us if you want to clean up. I’ll fire up the showers.”

—————

You pretty much spend the next hour doing that.

Beneath the running water, your bodies are cuddled up together, hardly cleaning up as intended.

Chaeyeon’s softly embracing you from behind, while Chaeryeong’s right in front of you, her chest pressed against yours. Both women lazily rest their head on your shoulders, their fingers tracing lines all over your skin. Beneath all the soap and shampoo lie kiss marks, nail scratches, and everything else in between to make you theirs. 

They’re not asking for much, only for you to stay.

You first give Chaeyeon a kiss on her forehead, then Chaeryeong on her cheek.

Perhaps you’ll find a way to make room for both. 

You have the rest of the night to figure that out.

—————

(A/N: Fuck yeah hiding a threesome as a surprise tactic/for shock value. I had a version of this that I scrapped during my slump month but decided to revisit it. It's been a long while since I've done one of those fan x idol stories. Sometimes you just want to write shameless pwp, but even this ended up taking a rather unexpected and emotional turn. Yikes. And it's all because I forgot to add one kink. Glad Itzy are five again, title track kinda lukewarm on. Thank you for reading!)

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

For the yandere! Justice League x assistant reader, how would they react if they had Deadpool as a friend? Like he randomly shows up. They would try to keep the reader as far away from him as possible, but it's Deadpool. Lol. How would Yandere Justice League feel if the reader liked Deadpool because he's funny and makes the reader laugh even if in a tense situation, randomly just talking about nonsense and/or making funny jabs at some of Justice League members? Not only that, but he would just annoy them for his and the reader's amusement. I can also imagine Wonder Woman or Superman trying to kill/critically injure him but finding out he has a super healing ability. LOL. I can imagine the scene where Deadpool punches Colossus, but his hand breaks, then he tries again while saying, "Cock shot!" but his other hand breaks. Instead, he does it to Superman and says, "Oh, your poor Lois Lane!" I feel like that would make the reader laugh out loud.

I finally saw the Deadpool & Wolverine movie, and I loved it! So now I want to see more content about Deadpool. I forget how funny he can be. I would like you to add a Deadpool & Wolverine, but I don't know if you have seen the movie yet. But I recommend you go and watch the movie.

A Day in Life: Best Friends Forever

Synopsis: A day in your life where a visit from your friend ends up in Deadpool losing his thumbs and re-attaching them back.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Gn!Assistant!Reader; Platonic!Deadpool

Tw: 18+; No spoilers from the movie; Some violence; Light gore descriptions (not really); Some sexual comments (it's Deadpool); English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 830

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: I loved this request, saw the movie on like the same week it came out, sorry this took so long</3

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— So that's what happens when I’m not around, huh?! — Hal Jordan snarked, faking amusement by the sight in front of him, but being very much not amused.

How? Was the question going through everyone's minds, as they watched their dear assistant (Y/N), in the middle of Hall of Justice, chatting away with a very infamous criminal known all around the hero-villain underground, who every single soul despised, and yet, there you were, choking your laughter and in tears with Deadpool, acting as if you've been friends all your life.

Diana was the first one to approach, followed by the rest of the Justice League.

— (Y/N), is this man bothering you? — She squared up and stared directly on Deadpool’s blank white lenses. That grounded you and helped you come back from the stories your friend was telling you.

— B-Bothering me? — Your laughter slowly died down, and you wiped your tears. — No, we’re just talking. — You shrugged and sniffled, so happy that a genuine smiled was fixed on your face, hypnotizing all the heroes for a moment.

— Wonder Woman! — Deadpool gave little fangirl jumps. Diana swallowed a groan. — It’s amazing to see you again! I’m even wearing my fanciest anal plug and thinking about you, all in your honor. — Diana couldn't control the disgusted and astounded expression on her face, while Wade saluted her. You bite your lips to not giggle.

— Don't be silly, Pool. Not everyone understands your humor. — You lightly slapped his shoulder and he sighed.

— I know! That's why I'm so introverted and depressed! — He shook his head. — That's why Disney sold me to DC, they couldn't handle my deep and complex character. Let's hope James Gunn knows what he's doing now. — Everyone, including you, furrowed their eyebrows, but no one decided to question what the hell he was talking about, since the mercenary was known for being insane. — And just after my third movie with Wolvie came out! Unbelievable. — He threw his hands in the air and shook his head while looking at an empty space as if there was someone there. He did that sometimes.

— You seem… Close. W-When did that happen, (N/N)? — Flash looked between you and Deadpool, biting his lower lip, slightly anxious. You blinked.

— Oh, well. Like, a few months ago? He sent his curriculum because he wanted to be part of the Justice League. There were no records of him in the system so I Interviewed him. Obviously he didn't pass, but we became good friends! — You shrugged with an easy smile.

— That's… Great, (N/N). — You narrowed your eyes on Hal Jordan.

— Hey… — Deadpool's mask gave the slightest hint that he was furrowing his eyebrows, and he pointed at Green Lantern. — (Y/N) told me about you. I don't like you. — He took his guns out of the holsters and pointed at the brunette. You gasped and stepped back, slightly regretting having told Wade about that. — STEP BACK WORST RYAN REYNOLDS SUPERHERO MOVIE OR I’M GONNA BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT IN 4K R-RATED! — Hal raised his arms. He was already on thin ice with you, and beating your bestie would probably be a bad idea to start over.

Batman grunted for someone to cover your eyes and threw two batarangs that disarmed Deadpool before he could react. Deadpool gasped and looked at the ground wide eyed. His thumbs had been chumped off in the ordeal (Batman was jealous and also knew he would just regenerate).

— WHAT? WHAT’S HAPPENING? — You blindly yelled, since Superman had zoomed to just behind you and was covering your eyes.

— HE CASTRATED ME! — Deadpool cried, reaching back for his swords, but since he didn't have thumbs anymore, he couldn't even hold them, making him just cry more from frustration. — THE DADDY ISSUES JUST GET WORSE! AND JUST BECAUSE I WAS READY TO BE ADOPTED BY YOU! — Batman furrowed his eyebrows at the mention of him having more than just one kid.

— Guys, we should all just calm down. — Flash tried to play the pacifist, standing in the middle of the chaos with his hands up, but Wade’s cries were covering his voice.

— WHAT'S HAPPENING? — You tried to tug Superman’s hands off, but he didn't let up, and started trying to sooth you.

Deadpool got to his knees and pathetically tried to push one of his thumbs into place, trying to accelerate his healing process, and after 30 seconds of chaos, he perked up when the thumb got attached again. He did the same to the other one.

— The sight is gross, (Y/N). You do not want to see it… — Wonder Woman mumbled, eyes fixed on the scene, feeling a mix of grossed out and impressed.

— Gross? This is natural. Like the birth of a little naked newborn baby. You wanna know what's real gross? My roommate Blind Al’s stink! She might as well be dead at this point… Uh, oh… — Wade slowly got up. — (Y/N)... Call me an Uber. I need to check on someone.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[mesetacadre]

So, like, have any of you actually ever had a conversation with a fascist offline about what they believe? I have.

To be clear, this wasn't a sit-down-let's-talk conversation. He (the only one) tried to start shit, and we (me + 2 comrades) confronted him in the act and regrettably got into a 30-minute "conversation".

Fascists, individually, are very mentally feeble. They are cowards who always seek to start conflict while trying to make themselves out to be the victims. This is, of course, until they gain enough popularity and canon fodder to throw 20 unstable fascists at anyone they don't like. But until this exaltation occurs¹ and their organizations enter a relatively stable cycle (in contemporary liberal democracies, they last between 2 and 7 years before disintegrating), there remains a contradiction between their aggressive desire to seek confrontation and their individual and collective insecurities. Fascist ideology is mostly not rooted in reality (more on this later), and it also has an important component of self-hate. They are an inferior specimen, unable to achieve what the fascist martyrs before them achieved (in Spain, Jose Antonio Primo de Rivera usually occupies this position), and to add injury to insult, it's those who they perceive as weak and undeserving who rule over them. They ignore this perceived inferiority by joking about being chads, the superior race, or non-degenerates. But behind their rhetoric and "humor" there is usually a tinge of insecurity and hate against anyone who doesn't fit their increasingly narrow standard, including themselves.

This fascist we talked with kept referring to Jewish conspiracies, to the freemasons in every position of power, to old Falangists, to fascist "theorists", to some kind of esoteric spiritualism within the bounds of Christianity, somehow, and hyperborea. He talked about communists, how they were already in the government (referring to the social-democratic PSOE), how we were degenerates, how the day will come, etc. He attempted to scare us by saying that he was an ex-member of this more notorious fascist party and that they were looking for him to beat him up, which isn't something you admit to people you're trying to start conflicts with. After a while of his ramblings, one of my comrades couldn't help but laugh at him. It was all very ridiculous; I don't remember exactly what he said that made my comrade laugh. He got slightly more agitated, and the conversation ended in ~5 minutes.

Individually, fascists are also not the brightest people you'll encounter. For somebody to internalize fascist beliefs, they have to be unconsciously willing to never dig deeper about their beliefs, to contrast them with one another, or to contrast them with other fascists. They'll read a text (they may be stupid, but a lot of them do read more than you'd expect) about, say, the concept of race, and never really address the fact that it contradicts their own beliefs, or a fellow fascist's beliefs about the nation or about Europe.

And a really interesting thing is that fascism is far from a monolith. It's more akin to an entelechy². The specific contradictions of fascism manifest themselves much more between individual fascists than within a single individual. Like I mentioned before, there are contradictions when it comes to race (racialists like the nazis vs anti-racists like Falange Auténtica), to Europe (the idea of a Great Europe vs every idea of Nationality/Empire, which generally coexist poorly), to the nation (its intersection with race and/or Europe and how it interacts with these), to the reaction against progress (a conception of fascism as progressive, reactionary, or neither³), to science (a realist position based on scientificism such as race science and Kameradschaftrecht (nazi feminism) vs metaphysical conceptions, such as esotericism or the Thule society, reliant on aesthetics and mysticism), or to the economic policy (bourgeois positions, corporatism, vs workerist positions such as Strasser or Bombacci).

These contradictions aren't unique to the contemporary fascist situation of fragmentation and the peculiarities of social media either. Back in the 30s and 40s, there was a lot of disagreement on who counted as fascists. On one end, during the rise of the NSDAP, there was a small cadre of orthodox fascists who narrowed fascism "a la Italiana", and did not consider nazi-fascism to be fascism because of its differences on the scientificist conceptions of race. The Nazi party repressed this small wing. On the other end, it was a prevailing position in the USSR to not consider fascism to start with Italy's fascii di combatimento, but rather in Russia's Black Hundreds, having a broader conception of fascism.

This fascist we talked with considers himself a Carlist⁴, while another member of his groupuscule considers himself a national-socialist, while being Moroccan, and a third is a run-of-the-mill reactionary concerned with the 2030 agenda, globalism, immigrant invasions, the great replacement, that sort of thing. When fascist groups are relatively small and lack any form of inertia and/or formalized structure, their activity is extremely sporadic. There is no discipline to be found, no real planning or broad strategy, they are, rather, a group of similarly-enough-minded friends who sometimes like to do some vandalism or threaten/agitate leftists of any stripe. Their only method of growth is to generate controversies, fights, have a provocative tweet go semi-viral, to generate noise. When it comes to agitation for the fascist, concrete ideology is not relevant. They appeal to both rage and the satisfaction of, for example, seeing x annoying leftist org get their posters ripped off. Discussions of fascist theory rarely, if ever, influence their pragmatic activity, sometimes it's more similar to a circlejerk to see who has the most esoteric, exaggerated and offensive positions.

This is not to say fascist infighting is irrelevant, far from it. Fascists have their own petty disputes between groups, periods of extreme fractionarism, inter-fascist and intra-fascist violence. But when it comes to the philosophy of action, to how they apply all these beliefs, you'll be pressed to find meaningful, material differences. Some might be more or less aggressive, more or less esoteric, more or less contrarian, more or less effective. But they all rely on building that momentum, that controversy -> confrontation -> growth -> controversy cycle. The moment fascist groups lose that momentum, or one too many campaigns fall flat and fail to garner attention, they'll start to turn against themselves, to deteriorate their own structures in the permanent search for conflict that their beliefs demand. There is no way to hold the belief that, for example, race is a scientific category that makes the white/national/aryan/european/whatever race constantly threatened to disappear without exhorting you to seek conflict, whether it's against immigrants or other fascists who don't place as much importance on race.

If you find yourself in the context of a few small fascist groups festering and seeking conflict, it is a strategic error to confront them outright. Unless you're willing to downright kill them or injure them severely enough (with the bigger threat of legal repercussions that entails), fascists will be able to turn your explicit opposition against them into ammunition to attract more reactionaries to their own ranks. The best you, as an organized communist, can do in the period before exaltation, is to quietly collect information about them, study their patterns, and exert as much opposition as is possible without letting them turn it into a visible confrontation. If you're going to cover up their symbols and posters, do it when they can't film you or try to start a fight. If they're threatening someone to provoke them to then cry and hue about the rabid leftists, use the fact that they have low numbers, record them, and intimidate them without physical violence. Even if you can leave them writhing on the floor in a fight, they can use that as ammunition, but they can't use a video of them putting their tails between their legs and running off. You can't debate with fascists, this much is clear. You also can't just use violence to scare them away, because they'll use that violence to gain momentum, and then you can end up with an actually decently-sized and consistent fascist organization.

This is how we have been opposing these small groups of fascists attempting to grow through controversy. We opposed them non-visibly, effectively and professionally. When this group of about 15 fascists total (they never appear with more than 4 at a time because of their inconsistency) encountered this, they were at one point scared enough to stop all activity for about 2 months, and after that have yet to appear again. Meanwhile, other, more infantile orgs, overreacted by opposing them with full force and very publicly, which only encouraged the fascists to keep going and wasted energy in a futile back-and-forth, as well as putting their members in unnecessary risk by engaging in unplanned situations.

¹ Throughout this entire post, all analysis of the behavior of fascists offline assumes this exaltation has not occured

² Entelechy here means an impossible ideal, built entirely in the imagination, or with an unstable and shoddy manifestation.

³ Fascism often positions itself as a revolutionary movement, while other times it places more importance on the opposition against progress.

⁴ Carlism is a Spanish political current originating in the rejection of Isabel II as a legitimate heir to Fernando VII, it became very intertwined with Franco's dictatorship and the Falange during the Civil War

[wolvndmouth]

Guys. I think about this shot a lot. Seven (7) times a day, minimum.

This is the exact moment Wade realizes that Logan looks at him, like really looks at him. Logan’s eyes have always been reading Wade in every way they can. Annoyed and scowling aside, he tries in earnest to understand who Wade is through his cracked humor and self-depreciation. No matter how angry he is, no matter how confused he is, he has eyes on Wade. When they’re staring at each other from opposite sides of a gun, when they’re sitting across each other in the diner, when they first fight in the Void, when they argue in the Odyssey; each one of these scenes have a moment where Wade is showing his cards and Logan, even through his rage and thirst to hurt, stills himself to listen and learn for as long as he can.

The man has no choice in the matter. Charles left him with the burden of knowing what it is to be loved, even at his most difficult. He’s felt the healing that comes from someone being able to look past his defenses and aggression and have the patience to plant compassion in the spaces of him that need it the most. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to unbury all the good he had before the bad, but it doesn’t stop him from having the guts to be gentle and kind when someone least deserves it. One of his gentlest moments is when he takes Juggernaut’s helmet off Cassandra to save her, and his wish to be the man that Charles thinks he is is what strengthens his ability to comfort the displaced and love-starved child that Nova really is. It is that same hope that allows him to take a chance on Wade. All Logan can do is hear him out and do his best to see the merc for who he truly is. It takes him some time, but from the moment they met in the bar, to joining Wade’s world, Logan’s gaze never wavers; it only changes as he grows to understand Wade more. He is able to look past Deadpool, and see Wade Wilson.

‘Never take your eyes off an enemy’ evolves into looking at a mirror to his own soul. Wade is everything Logan is, and everything Logan isn’t. They are yin and yang down to the very cores of their being, and for Logan, it’s a tough pill to swallow when he realizes just how easy it is for Wade to love. It’s not only consistently thrown in his face with Wade’s repeated reminders of what’s at stake, but Wade showing him the picture of everything he has left forces him to reflect on the walls he’s built around himself and why. He has made so many mistakes, and he can do nothing but examine his own failures as an X-Man and as Logan himself. He is astounded by Wade’s ability to survive with his heart so crudely stapled to his sleeve, and when he looks at that photo, there’s a piece of him that almost wouldn’t mind being a part of the portrait. He thinks of a world where Scott doesn’t have to beg him to put on the suit. Where Jean, Storm, and Beast aren’t dead. Where Charles is still there to remind him everyday that he matters. Maybe a world where Charles could meet Wade and remind him that he matters too. But “when they fix your world” becomes “if they fix your world”, I imagine in the bitterness of that, Logan starts off repulsed by Wade’s openness to overfill his cup and share what overflows. It’s a slow eventuality, but inevitable nonetheless; Logan learns how to let Wade pour into him. His eyes soften and steady towards Wade as their relationship progresses. When being introduced to Althea, it’s obvious that something inside him has calmed, and the soft nod he gives is the only way Logan knows how to say that actually wants to be there. He’s answered Wade’s call and didn’t walk away. Logan can finally look at Wade with a sureness that he’s not going anywhere.

[GIF by bettercallcohen]

And I think Wade can feel that. Wade is so open because his universe is so small compared to everyone else’s. 9 people. 9 people who make him feel seen, make his heart full, and that make him feel like he belongs somewhere. So when he’s presented with the chance to add #10 to the Polaroid, when someone can actually see him through his vulgarities, through the violence, through his cancerous mutation, it’s more than just surprising when it’s someone like Logan. It’s been a long time since someone’s looked at him like he’s home. No one has looked at him that way since Vanessa. And he probably felt like no one would ever look at him that way ever again. But then here comes Logan, all eyes on him, shredding him to pieces and picking him apart. Wade is the only person he knows in this world, and Wade is the only person in this world that knows him. Logan is forced to confront the idea of being seen and being needed by someone again. Wade comes to him in a crazy, desperate attempt to save the people he loves, and instead he finds one more person to violently stitch into the fabric of his existence.

It’s intense, probably for the both of them, but Wade only knows intensity. Maximum effort. Nothing is off the table, nothing is left behind. Wade’s eyes are as loud as his mouth and bear a burden of their own; a burden of honesty when it comes to conveying his feelings as being one of the only things the Weapon-X experimentation left true and untouched. He sees the truth and they speak the truth. He could see right through Logan from the moment they met. Where Logan could only see a traitor, the Worst Wolverine, Wade saw someone that could teach him how to be a hero. Where Logan could only see himself as the wrong guy for the job, Wade knew this man was the only one capable of saving everyone and everything he loved in this world. He just wasn’t expecting Logan to become part of that world.

Wade is a tractor beam for both the jaded and the gentle, and there is a softness in his eyes that is warm and inviting and penetrating all at the same time. For Wade, it’s not hard to look at Logan and see the tired parts of himself in him. He sees in him the familiar longing for death. He sees a world where he doesn’t have Cable’s time machine to make things right, where Vanessa and Peter are still dead, and he’s blowing out birthday candles alone. Logan is a mirror in his own right; a reflection of not only his failures, but his fears as well. The fear that there may be a day where his luck runs out, and being crazy isn’t enough to save his world.

Crazy is what Wade does best, and the two of them have more than enough instances where “your crazy matches my crazy”. But it’s not hard to see that the way Logan looks at Wade during those moments morphs from a sharpened hostility to a warm familiarity. Though the context of this last scene is Logan fulfilling his duty as a wingman, it is the very second Wade realizes that the other man’s gaze has lost its vitriol and conviction has taken its place. It’s the moment Wade figures out that Logan is serious about wanting to stay, serious about learning how to live in his universe, and serious about his change of heart towards him. It’s a Logan that has accepted his twin flame, and is comforted by the thought that he has someone now that can not only take everything he can give and more, but can bite back just as hard. It’s no secret that Wade holds a space for Logan, but he’s never been concerned with whether or not Logan has done the same. So the moment he’s met with a gaze that is as sure and true as Logan’s is, Wade knows there’s not only room for him to bare all, but now there’s someone that won’t shield their eyes and look away when he does.

[channieismyboy]

chanel chance

{dilf!seonghwa x f!reader}

synopsis: When y/n is alerted that there's been a flood in her apartment and no one can take her, what will she do when Mr. Park asks her to stay with him?

masterlist | part 3 | part 5

warnings: age difference (y/n is 21, seonghwa is 29), eventual smut, language, kind of slow burn, sad attempts at humor - wc: 2.3k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Everyday, a man lives a debilitating cycle. He wakes up, goes to work, sleeps, and repeats this endless circuit. He has gotten used to this schedule over the last few years. The only joy in his life would be brought on by his little daughter, whom he loves with all his heart. He tries his very best to put on a facade of happiness whenever he spends time with her. Wanting to protect her innocence from vague feelings of misery for as long as he possibly can, until he eventually matures.

There was no room for love in his life anymore. Romance is certainly unattainable for him due to his lack of availability. It is not like he does not have opportunities to date, there are plenty of women and men who often throw themselves at him. However, it is merely for his title or money. They want to gain something from him.

This man views love differently than the people who he converses with on a daily basis. Most of those individuals view marriage, or dating as a contract. As an opportunity to enlarge their company’s resources, get more publicity from the media, or even to trick the public to buy more of their products. Since this man has seen this happen numerous times in his lifetime, even had a hands-on experience of it in his home, he has made a choice that he would no longer give romance a chance. As those couples that marry for money, or titles, almost certainly end up unhappy, divorcing quickly after marrying, or scandals of them cheating on one another are posted publicly on the news.

However, this man’s principles had begun to change once he had met someone different. Someone who he found beautiful in every way imaginable, who made his heart skip a beat in a way he never knew it could…

This man is Park Seonghwa.

-

You check the time, it is now 11:37 PM. You're lying awake, staring aimlessly at your ceiling, with the fairy lights illuminating your otherwise dark room. Replays of a few nights ago rerun in your head. You think about how gentle Mr. Park was with you, and how caring he is with his daughter. It makes your heart ache. You sadly have never got to experience a proper father-daughter relationship, or even one at all. However, you're grateful you have your uncle and your aunt. They've truly made your life special in every way imaginable. Your eyes begin to feel heavy, and the familiar wave of tiredness hits you until you're asleep.

It is now saturday morning, today you will babysit Jieun and today you will finally see Mr. Park. You get slightly too excited about that last part, and shake your head at your thoughts. You have been thinking about him a lot recently, you really shouldn't, for the sake of keeping your job.

You wake up and check your phone, scrolling aimlessly through your socials and texts from Minho and Jisung. Replying to the endless amounts of texts they've sent along with pictures of them on their vacation to Jeju Island. You struggle to get through the pure amount of them.

The afternoon passes calmly. You quickly make yourself some dinner and shower after precisely picking out your outfit to go see Mr. Park while on a facetime call with both Minho and Jisung. as annoying they are, they are never caught wearing a bad outfit.

"Are you calling us so you can look great for Mr. Hot ceo?" Minho asks with a deadpan tone, which juxtaposes with the cute cat in his lap that he's petting every so sweetly. "You wanna impress him?" Jisung adds while wiggling his eyebrows.

"It's not that, I just want to look presentable is all" you fib, while showing them the black skirt, black stockings with a deep burgundy Ralph Lauren knit sweater that jisung had picked out. Minho looks at you with an 'I'm not buying it' face and you cave in.

"Okay fine! Can you blame me for wanting to look nice when babysitting a good looking ceo's daughter? Plus I do have to look professional for this job, I can't just show up in sweats. and he probably thinks I'm a kid, so it doesn't matter anyway" you say, opting for the look you have on.

"Honestly, I would do the same" jisung adds after applauding your look.

-

After your shower, you get dressed and put on just a bit more makeup than usual, and spray on your 'Chanel Chance' perfume. It won't hurt to look nice for the man anyway. You board the bus and sit down while listening to some music. you're now deep in thought, thinking back to minho's comment. it won't hurt to look good for the man anyway. He's literally a high power ceo, regardless of how he looked, you had to go to his home and look presentable anyway. with a posh neighborhood like his and such a fancy house like his, you would look like the odd one out not arriving dressed in the very few expensive clothing items you own.

Your stop arrives and you head out quickly, mentally preparing to meet John again and explain why you are there. You feel slightly awkward just walking up a hill with nothing else but your purse and phone in hand. You wish you had a car that can drive you around, but it broke down on you and is in the shop being replaced. You try not to think about the bill ahead of you, that's too many scary thoughts in a row.

Trailing along, you are soon met with John at the gate. He looks at you up and down. "Can I see some ID?" he demands. You open your purse and show him your driver's license. He lets you through, luckily Mr. Park's home is close to the gate, so it's not a far walk. You stop at the familiar home. it's 6:25 PM, you're grateful that once again you're early. You quickly double check your hair and retouch your lip gloss before knocking on the door. You wait a bit until it opens.

This time you are greeted directly by Mr. Park, and he glances at you up and down before welcoming you with a polite smile. You do the same, and note how nicely dressed he is. The black buttoned up shirt with just a few buttons undone tucked into his black trousers complement the glasses he's wearing, he look's so professional with them on.

"Hello Ms. L/n, it's nice to see you." he says with a slight smile on his face. "Hello Mr. Park" you greet back with a bright and polite smile.

"Laura, my housekeeper isn't here on Saturdays so it's just going to be you and Jieun for today. Please come in," he gestures into the home. You take off your shoes and enter the place after closing the door. You look around his place once again, still in shock by its size and beauty. Mr. Park sure has taste. You walk behind him and follow him to the living room, where Jieun is already sitting, watching cartoons.

He turns to face you, eyes directly on yours. Suddenly it's quite hot in the room. "I'll leave you both here and I'll be back just before 9:00 PM, call if anything happens, although I know she's in great hands" he says to you before saying goodbye to his daughter.

"Enjoy your meeting Mr. Park!" you say. He exits before lovingly wishing his daughter goodbye.

-

Your time spent with Jieun is always pleasant. She's as bright and playful as ever, telling you about her latest works of art (cute scribbles) and her excitement to learn more at pre-school. She has such a bright future ahead of her, you think. The time passes quickly as soon it's almost 9:00.

You hear the familiar pitter-patter of raindrops beginning to fall down, and you silently curse to yourself. You did not bring an umbrella with you and now you'll have to walk down in the rain until you reach the bus stop. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear Jieun scream out for her dad. You raise your head up and you greet Mr. Park.

He places Jieun down and tells her to get ready for bedtime. She does just that after saying goodbye to you with a warm hug that you so happily reciprocated.

"Alright," he says while reaching into his wallet and pulling out many bills. "This should do it for the night" and he gives you the money. You check the amount and your eyes bulge out a little at the amount. 150$ you count and recount again quickly, this is much more than last time. You shake your head and attempt to give him back the money.

"Mr. Park, this is way too much. I cannot accept this amount."

"Please, just take it. It honestly isn't a lot for me and I'm just happy you made Jieun smile so brightly." His tone and expression are so genuine you have no choice but to give in and accept it.

"Okay, I'll accept it this time Mr. Park. Thank you very much."

You head to put back on your shoes and prepare yourself to walk back in the rainfall. He watches you intently, with his head turned to the side as he leans on the wall. You feel as though you're being watched by an eagle, as you feel his eyes never once leaving your form. your cheeks burn slightly.

"Are your friends here to pick you up?" Mr. Park speaks up. "No, it's just me on my own this time" you answer.

"You're not walking home are you? I didn't see a car parked in the driveway when you came." He asked with concern laced in his soft spoken words.

"No. I'm just going to walk to the bus stop nearby-"

"I'll drive you there then" he cuts you off. He sees the familiar look of 'you don't have to' already on your face, the one he just saw moments ago while paying you. Before he lets you speak, he explains himself. "I just don't want you to get a cold out in the rain. I need my babysitter to be in perfect condition, you know."

Yet again, Mr. Park has made it impossible for you to refuse him. "Alright, if you insist, then I have no choice but to say yes" you say with a smile, and you see him laugh slightly at your words.

To say his car is nice, would be a great understatement. You have no knowledge of cars, but even to a novice like you, this car is down right spectacular. The nicely polished black outside with leather seats, just how rich is this man?

Mr. Park opens the door for you and ushers you in gently. He gets in quickly after, and you glance at your phone, after realizing it's been buzzing for quite a while now. You see all the missed calls from your Landlady. Panic surges through you, did you forget to pay your rent? No you remember sending out the amount just a week ago. what could it be then? Mr. Park can tell you're anxious.

"I'm sorry," you mutter. "It's something to do with my apartment, could I quickly make a call?" you ask. "Of course, be my guest," Mr. Park says, gesturing for you to dial the number.

The phone rings and she picks up quickly. "Hello?"

"Ms. L/n, there has been a minor flood in the apartment. You must come quickly and evacuate all of your belongings. We'll need to undergo repairs for about 3 days." You let her speak, and your face drops.

You face Mr. Park and judging from his expression, he's heard everything from your call.

"Were there any damages to my apartment room?"

"Luckily your floor had no damages, it was the floors under you that mainly got affected. Still you'll need to leave for a few days. Please come quick and find a place to stay until then. Goodbye."

You hang up the phone and think to yourself silently. Wondering who you could stay with. Mr. Park asking you the same question out loud. Minho and Jisung are too far away and you don't have a key to their apartment you explain to them.

"What about your uncle?" Mr. Park asks.

"I wish but, they're having renovations and there's barely any room for them in the house." you answer.

It's silent for a moment, the raindrops splattering heavily as the rainfall speeds up, a storm is starting to form outside. You think about any other people you know that you can stay with. The list is already quite short.

"Stay with me," and you turn your head to meet, a shocked expression to his lighthearted smile.

"I really can't. I don't wish to intrude like that." you shake your hands in defense.

"Unless you have anyone else to turn to, I'm your best bet Ms. L/n. You won't be intruding anyway. I'm not uncomfortable with it and I think Jieun would be delighted to have you over for 3 days." he shrugs, waiting for you to answer.

This is the third time he has persuaded you this night. No wonder he's a successful businessman, he can talk you right into doing whatever wants, and you're not opposing any of it.

Staying with him won't be too bad right? I mean he must have room in this mansion of his. Plus he is always busy and I have class so we won't interact as much right?

Your face begins to heat up at the thought of being in such close proximity to Mr. Park. Wait, why are you thinking of that right now?

You exhale and look at him as you've made your decision.

"I'll stay with you."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

a/n: hey yall! so long time no see. i'm going to continue this series after not touching it for almost 2 years. i'm sorry for the delay but even i had to know how this was going to end. i hope some of yall are interested in it still (praying actually). anyways please enjoy this part, i'll see you soon!!

please let me know if you wanna be added to the tagslist!!

tagslist: @miamyre @flowersiinherhaiir @vvsmydiamonds127 @prodsh00ky @jhmylove @sunwoosberrie @jenotation @seonghwasstar @zwiehe @nagadiluc @kodzukein @heavenly-mobo @nevieatiny @smeetb0ne3 @yeosxxx @koalakoala8 @imalildelulu @sookacc @lunaa2210 @asjkdk @wal-nutt @iheartyeonjunnn @yoonsanbin

[eccentricwritingbaby]

surprise!

oscar piastri x reader

summary - after a few long months of not being able to see each other - y/n at university, oscar racing and training - reader is feeling the blues of long distance. until a certain surprise comes her way. 

masterlist

-

it was final exam season. final exams. instead of the calm before the storm, you would argue they were the storm before the calm. finals stressed you out beyond belief, they were always harder than what your professor claimed, always had information on them that wasn’t on the study guide, and you were constantly swamped with work. you didn’t have time for anything but studying.

but after. after. you would be out of school for the summer, finals off your mind, school off your mind, and you’d get to see your sweet, sweet boy. you and oscar had been going out for a year now, you knew the routine of both of you not being able to see each other often, or call often - your schedules so opposite it was constantly a game of phone tag. but summer was your time. you were out of school, thank god, and he usually had only a few races left - that you got to tag along to - and then it was his break. and you both could bask in each others presence before the school year and his season starts yet again. 

the good news was that you had only a year left of school, the bad news was that you had a whole year left of school. you were usually a glass half-full kind of girl, but at times when the stress wore you down, and the facetime call to your boyfriend was missed, you needed a break before you lost it. 

it was now the second time you tried to call oscar, trying to reach him on the verge of your mental breakdown as you were staring at books and your computer for the last four hours. 

“hi, baby, sorry my phone was in my room,” he answered the call with a smile on his face, “how are you doing?”

“i’m fine,” you mumble out through the phone, your boyfriend frowning at the solemn disposition read across your face, “just miss you,”

“i know baby,” he gives you a sad smile, “i miss you too,”

“what were you up to?” you ask him, taking every opportunity to hear his voice and see his face.

“i was just with lando and alex in logan’s room for a bit, we were playing this new game,” his eyes brighten a bit as he speaks, happy to see your eyes lighting up as well on the other end of the call. 

“oh really? that sounds fun, tell me about it,” you urge, not fully caring much about this video game, but also loving watching oscar speak with passion and humor - a great distraction from the mess of work you had left on your desk. 

oscar drabbles on for a few more minutes, giving you stories about how lando died in the game and almost broke the controller, logan almost falling off his chair from laughter, alex and oscar making fun of the both of them, and so on. you sit on your bed holding a large smile on your face, happy to finally be connected to your boyfriend and talking to him. 

“what else do you have tonight?” he asks you the dreaded question and you roll your eyes, breathing out a huff of air as you do so. 

“so much, i still have two essays to finish up, but it’ll just be some finishing touches,” you sigh, “thanks for reminding me,” you add on sarcastically with a laugh. oscar laughs with you, glad that you aren’t too stressed and can still joke around. 

“well that’s good,” coming down from the shared giggles, his face turns a bit more serious as he asks his next question, “what are you doing tomorrow?”

“um,” you think for a minute, a bit uneasy about his quick change in demeanor, “just studying for tomorrow, because the next day - that’s tuesday, right?” you ask him, or yourself, quickly before seeing him nod through your screen, “yeah, tuesday’s my last final and then i’ll be flying out to you on wednesday!” you end your little ramble with a cheer. 

“i’m so excited, baby,” he chuckles at your happiness, “i can’t wait to see you,” 

“me too,” you smile back at him, the unspoken words of love dangling between you two as your eyes and smiles don’t leave each other, “i wish it would come sooner, though,”

“yeah,” he agrees, clearing his throat a bit, “listen, i’ve got an early flight out of here tomorrow so i’ll call you then,” he now moves to end the call, “and you’ve got some essays to finish up,”

“trying to get me off the phone, piastri?” you ask with a giggle.

“ugh yes, i hate talking to you,” he laughs out with insincerity. 

“okay,” you fake frown, “i can take a hint,”

“shut up, y/n, you know i’m joking,”

“i know,” you laugh, “call me tomorrow, i love you,”

“i love you too, baby,” you blow each other light kisses and hang up the phone. groaning and stretching, you move over to your desk and stare at all of the work you have yet to finish. 

“one more year, y/n, one more year,” you whisper to yourself to gain some momentum. wiping the tears that accidentally escaped quickly, you shake your head and pick up your pen, ready to finish off your second to last year. 

-

you woke up to books sprawled across your bed, having tried to study a bit before you fell asleep the night before. a distant ringing had you coming out of the sleepy fog, your eyes still closed and your hand slapping around the bed in order to quiet the sound. once your phone was found, your eyes squinted open and you immediately gained energy when you saw who was calling.

“hey, osc,” you’re morning voice evident, leading you to clear your throat a little.

“hi, baby,” you hear through the phone. it was odd for oscar to not call you over facetime, his constant push for ‘seeing your cute face’ was all you heard about, “i’m sorry, were you sleeping?”

“yeah, but i needed to get up anyways,” you groan, now stretching in your bed, fully waking up. 

“can’t waste a minute of studying?” he asks you, you hear voices in the background and some wind, assuming he was walking towards his destination.

“yeah,” you chuckle, “where are you? i can barely hear you over the wind,”

“oh um, about that,” he sighs, “i took a detour,” your eyebrows knit in confusion, wondering where he would have gone other than back home. 

“oh?” you ask him, now hearing a knock on your door.

“you should get that, y/n,” oscar laughs through the phone.

“what?”

“the door, baby, go get the door,” finally understanding what you had hoped he was implying, you jump out of your bed, out of your bedroom, and towards your front door, swinging it wide open to come face to face with your boyfriend. 

“oscar,” you breathe out, dropping your phone and rushing into his awaiting arms, “oh my god,” you begin to cry, holding onto him tighter. he returns the emotions, holding you and rocking you, soaking up all of what he had missed so much. 

“couldn’t last one more day without seeing you,” he whispers into your hair, now walking you both further into your apartment and shutting your door. 

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper into his hoodie that your face was buried into, “i’m so happy,”

“me too, baby, me too,” he just sighs, breathing in your scent he had missed so much. finally pulling apart, his left hand comes up to hold the back of your neck, kissing you softly and feverishly. your antsy lips accept, your right arm coming to grab the neck of his hoodie and pull him closer, if that was even possible. 

breaking apart for air, your foreheads lean onto each other as you both bask in the feeling of being able to hold each other once again. 

“i-um,” you clear your throat a bit, “i’ve got studying to do, i’m sorry-”

“no, no,” he cuts you off, kissing you again, “baby, i know you’ve got to study, i just wanted to be with you,”

“okay,” you smile, grabbing his hand and leading him into your bedroom, he takes a look around at the books and papers spread everywhere and just laughs. 

“you are the same chaotic girl every finals season,”

“that’s the only way i know how to be,” you shrug at his joke, pulling out your desk chair and opening your computer, “i’m gonna throw my headphones on so you can watch the tv or something if you want,”

“okay, baby,” he places a kiss to the top of your head, moving to lay down on your bed and flip the tv onto his favorite show. 

he sits there for a moment, watching your pen spin in your hand, then moving to flip open a book, then moving to type on your computer, and he is in awe. you always told him you loved watching him in the garage because seeing him be intelligent and passionate was attractive as well as endearing. he finally understands what you meant. watching the person he loves be in her element was not only beyond attractive, it was inspiring. to see you push yourself and dedicate yourself was beautiful. and he knew he was the luckiest man on the planet. 

“what?” you turn and look at him, taking out one of your headphones. 

“nothing,” he smiles back at you, watching you turn around and get back to work.

-

[angelkiyo]

modern au high school hcs for my fav haikyuu boys based on my high school experiences + romance hcs <3

[suna rintaro, kageyama tobio, miya atsumu, kita shinsuke]

a/n- as someone whos high school is very populated and downtown, my takes on these are very correct. trust me bro. i’m bored too 🎧 — part two

suna rintaro

my man here is not stupid trust in a bitch (hardly tries and still gets a 3.5)

he would def run a fight account in high school (coming from someone who also did the same)

the name would be smt like 'inarizaki_fightclub' or 'inarizaki.bops'

atsumu would be the first submission to 'inarizaki.bops'

suna, in modern day high school, is the type of person who would also probably wear essentials fog or own shoes like onitsuka tigers

his type of style would be casual streetwear

would also have a secret finsta dedicated to random shit like his fits or random fights of the twins

would make shared playlists on spotify w you and would also stalk your airbuds to see what you listen to in order to add that type of music on your shared playlists

"oh? yeah i fuck with that artist too."

regular ft calls and sends you dark humor tiktoks

unlike the hcs some ppl do calling him a "stoner", he'd prob judge and cringe.

he's a volleyball athlete for god's sake

very trusting person w you and would be talking massive shit w you abt other people

you and him would co-run the 'inarizaki.bops' acc and you would make the captions

dates would include: at either of you guys’ places and movie nights, cozy dates and quality time

artists he would listen to: kendrick lamar, pinkpantheress, artic monkeys, a$ap rocky, xxxtentacion

kageyama tobio

now this guy...he's the type of person to take honors or aps, not try and still get at least a 3 on the exam (avg gpa would be 2.8 or smt)

he would def wear skinny joggers and nike crewnecks (ON A GOOD DAY) with overused air forces.

he would wear black air forces...

would have an insta account that doesn't post shit, but would still manage to get a good 500 followers.

central cee glazer

a p.e. tryhard

"bruh c'mon. it's not that fucking hard, just kick the ball."

if he didn't play volleyball, he would play basketball and be FUCKING GOOD.

one of those shy but very active kids.

would def always be texting you all the time if you're not there.

you two sharing an airpod while riding the bus tgt would very much be almost everyday

he would def wanna try to study w you during study hall and you two would be in a spotify friend jam (where you listen to the same music at the same time)

imessage games every time he's bored

you're the main reason he's even passing his classes in the first place.

dates would include: long walks around the city and the park. def a cute date

artists he would listen to: drake, lil uzi vert, playboi carti, mac miller, travis scott, yeat

miya atsumu

on track student, barely. (2.3 gpa)

one ap but it’s bringing his unweighted down HEAVY

would have a heart attack if he noticed his shoes creased and have a heavy nike/jordan collection

snapchat 'wyll' warrior and his snap score is most likely at least at 500k

be on drake's side during the kendrick beef

he would def have around 1.2k followers on his pub insta

if yall were dating, he would only follow you and a hypewear brand like bape or essentials

would wear those red plaid pants if inarizaki didn’t have a uniform

also an essentials wearer and ex-highlighter kid

car fanatic

would send you videos like “which toilet would you shit the hardest in”

his reposts would be ALL ABOUT YOU (then some complaining abt having a twin/volleyball tiktoks)

he would most def have a highlight abt you

but… he’s the most annoying p.e. tryhard EVER.

your friends most likely think he's weird and a bop

you would have to keep making excuses abt him

"he’s not that bad!!”

babe, he is most likely a dior sauvage user and he's on 'inarizaki.bops'…

dates would include: wingstop or fast food late at night + shopping sprees (he hypes you up when trying clothes on)

artists he would listen to: drake, playboi carti, charlie puth, sexyy red, gunna

kita shinsuke

he would most def be on stuco and national honors society (3.9 gpa)

would walk you home NO MATTER THE DISTANCE.

is the type to have a private insta with less than 100 followers bc he would be private

would post you and tag you. hard launch type of man.

GREENEST FLAG EVER.

would probably repost ‘inarizaki.bops’ posts ironically since they include his teammates

he would def wear casual but not hella casual either

imagine linen pants, baggy jeans, and the occasional stussy shirt

kita would be the type of guy to write you those extravagant love letters that are 4 feet tall

would write your initial on the side of his shoes (idk if yall have seen that but yeah)

he would def also get you those forever rose bouquets

the two of you would def be playing badminton together as a hobby

study hall w him is serious and also fun

“okay okay, now let’s get back to these functions”

dates would include: taking you out to dinner and cute cafe dates

artists he would listen to: the weeknd, the 1975, eyedress, wave to earth

-

-

part two

[kaciidubs]

For the Kids

I believe you used to be 🤍 nonnie, I remember seeing that emoji around~ I'm glad you're back! There won't be much mention of medical stuff because I'm nowhere close to being a nurse, but I hope this is what you were looking for, nonnie! ❣ Summary: This visit was for the kids, so why did Chris find himself vying for a Pediatric nurse's attention? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.9k ❣ Warnings: No medical terms, Idol! AU, Pediatric Nurse! Reader, fluff, slight humor, flirting, open ended ❣  ❣ Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Mr. Bang, Chris, and Christopher, Reader is referred to as Beautiful, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“I’ll let the nurse guiding you know that you've arrived, please wait here.” 

Chris nodded enthusiastically as the nurse working behind the front desk turned away to grab a phone, turning his attention to listen to his manager and a few Skijigi discussing the schedule for the day.

 This event was something the members had looked forward to ever since they were allowed to add one more Stay-centered event to their log of the year; the day they ventured out to meet hospitalized children Stays to give them an experience they wouldn't get to see naturally. 

He'd decided to show up early in hopes of getting to meet the kids who weren’t able to make the time bracket due to an appointment or operation - the rest of the members scheduled to show up within the next hour and a half, according to his manager.

“Mr. Bang?”

He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, and the equally unfamiliar use of his last name, only to feel as if his world had gone into slow motion.

Walking up to him was a nurse, a fair assessment judging by the scrubs you wore, with a smile that made his heart skip a beat - part of him wondered if he’d have to check himself into a hospital based on his reaction alone; and when you introduced yourself he swore he heard bells ringing, your name suddenly becoming his favorite sound.

“Welcome to Seoul Mercy Hospital, I’ll be one of the nurses working with you guys today.”

“Hi,” smiling in earnest, he cleared his throat, his posture straightening ever so slightly,  “and just Chris is fine, ‘Mr. Bang’ feels too formal, you know?”

Your smile grew, a small laugh floating through you, “Is ‘Chan’ too formal, too?”

“No, no, Chan is perfectly fine, too - you can call me whatever you’d like.”

Chris tried his best to ignore how suggestive the sentence sounded, but judging from the way you pressed your lips together, you’d already caught the unintentional double entendre.

“Okay, Chris,” a glimmer of humor sparkled in your eyes, teasing and warm - comfortable, “if you’ll follow me, I can give you a quick tour of the area you’ll be using today before we go see the kids.”

The tour was short, yet fulfilling; the brisk walk of the hall bringing him to the play room booked for them to use decorated in Skzoo memorabilia with the life size standees wearing makeshift doctor outfits - there was even a table that stretched along a wall filled with Skzoo plushies and gift bags undoubtedly prepared by Skijigi.

“They’re so cute!” He squealed happily, petting WolfChan- Doctor WolfChan’s head as if he were a real dog, “Do the kids have any idea of what’s happening?”

“Well, of course they know that Stray Kids are coming to the hospital, but we haven’t told them how the whole afternoon will go just yet - we’d like to keep some things a secret, you know?” You gently caressed the soft fur of the Dwaekki standee, gazing at the decorated room with a fondness in your eyes, “This really means the world to them, and we tried our best to make it as grand as possible.”

A warm feeling settled in Chris’s chest, and he had to take a quick breath to dispel the heat from warming the rest of his body in turn. “If that’s the case, I hope that we can help make their day just a little bit brighter - and, hopefully, the nurses’ day too.”

You smiled, catching his eyes, “Trust me, you’re way ahead on that goal.”

It wasn’t long until the rest of the members began to show up, everyone slowly filling the break room specifically reserved for their visit while managers and nurses coordinated bringing the kids into the Skzoo Hospital before revealing their bigger surprise.

Being one of the lead pediatric nurses on duty, you did your part in ushering the line of children from their rooms and into the playroom - catching a glance of a certain leader as he sneakily peeked through the crack of the break room’s door, watching as the little kids spoke excitedly amongst themselves.

Soon the room was filled with children excitedly taking in the decorations and standees, and after a brief moment of gathering and pep-talking from your coworkers, the grand reveal commenced - the eight idols entering the room to excited cheers and applause. Managers ensured the small recording crew caught every reaction and the surprise performance the boys had prepared, before your shift lead announced that the members would be splitting into groups to play and spend time with the kids in Skzoo Hospital.

From small tables arranged for arts and crafts to a controlled space for duck, duck, goose, the activities were enough to keep both the children and the kids irrevocably entertained.

Chris was having a riveting conversation with one of the children at the art station about the best color to draw with when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning his head to see a little girl - who’d happily introduced herself as Narae - holding a sheet of paper with a smile as bright as the sun.

“Wanna see my drawing?”

He smiled at her small, excited little bounces and nodded, “Of course! What is it?”

Turning her paper around, tiny fingers pointed to the colorful figures on the page, “This is me and Leebit picking flowers, I have a yellow flower because it’s my favorite color, and over here is PuppyM wearing a flower crown- Oh, and here is Nurse Y/n having a picnic with WolfChan! She’s my favorite nurse, and he’s her favorite Skzoo, so I drew them together!”

The innocent mention of his representative plush being your favorite sent his heart rate skyrocketing, and he could feel a sheepish blush beginning to take over his ears as he studied the drawing.

“She says he has a cute tail, but I think Leebit’s tail is cuter because it’s fluffy like a bunny,” Narae mumbled, turning her paper around as if inspecting it. “My friend says Bbokari has a cuter tail, but chickens don’t have tails! They have chicken butts!”

Stifling a laugh, he grinned, “You know what? You should go ask Felix if Bbokari has a tail or a chicken butt, he knows all about him.”

She gave him a quick nod before rushing off toward the dancer, determined to get her point proven, leaving Chris to grapple with this newfound knowledge; picking up a crayon and a piece of paper to draw with the children around him.

Eventually the little meet and greet came to an end, the boys handing out the small gift bags to the children who were able to make the event while some of the kids gifted their drawings to the members in return.

With a chorus of ‘thank you’s and well wishes, you led the idol group back to the break room while your coworkers busied themselves with organizing the children to be ushered back into their rooms for the evening.

“I’m never going to let you live down the fact that you actually lost at duck, duck, goose to a kid, Felix,” Seungmin laughed mockingly, the blond’s demise putting a glittering smile on his face.

“Hey! Dohyeon is really fast for his age, okay? I wasn’t going to try to beat a child at a silly little game!”

“I would,” Minho hummed as he passed by the duo, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refreshments table, “teach them early - life isn’t fair.”

“Hyung!”

Chris let out a heavy sigh as the chaos of his members slowly grew, though his anguish was quickly curbed by the sound of your laughter, poorly hidden behind your hand.

Making his way over to you, he nodded his head toward his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”

You waved his apology off with your hand, shaking your head, “Don’t be, that just means you guys had fun - I’m sure the children did too, I haven’t seen their faces light up like that in a while.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad we were able to make their day a bit more special.”

His voice was soft, earnest with a sparkle in his eyes and you felt a small flutter float through you as you hummed in affirmation. 

“And a few of the nurses, too, it’s not often that we get visitors like you guys who have the time to come by and do little things like this, it means a lot to us.”

“You know,” he hummed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “I learned something interesting while talking to one of the kids today.”

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the fleeting sense of worry tug at your psyche from his curious tone. “Did you? And what would that be, Chris?”

“Well, let’s just say, if you want anything WolfChan themed, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” A smug smirk began to tug at his lips, his voice lowering to a volume only you could catch, “And, if he were real, I think you’d be his favorite, too.”

Your eyes widened a fraction as a wave of embarrassment washed over you, though you recovered with narrowed eyes, “Which one of those rascals told you that?”

“Hey - my lips are sealed!” He chuckled, holding his hands up in moc defense, though the playful shine in his eyes remained. “I’m just the messenger here.”

Nodding slowly, you pursed your lips in thought, “Alright, then what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, since you’re real and WolfChan isn’t,” your voice trailed off as you tilted your head inquisitively, “am I your favorite?”

You weren’t sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he’d started the teasing act first, so it was only fair that you played with him at his own game.

Chris bristled at the sudden question, his posture straightening just a bit as his eyes searched yours for any sign of encouragement, a warmth setting over him as the corner of your lip ticked up in challenge.

“My favorite, hm?” He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before glancing at you with a sparkle that had your heart fluttering, “I’d say there’s no contest, but I’d rather have more time to really figure it out, you know?”

“Is that a proposition, Christopher?”

“It’s a promise, if you’d let me.”

Stepping forward just an inch, you couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto your lips, “I would, but I don’t like when people can’t fulfill their promises.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on breaking this one.” He murmured as he leaned forward the same amount, though his entire being begged to close the distance to feel your lips on his. “How about it then, beautiful?”

“Chan hyung! We’ve gotta go soon!”

Your heart sunk at the warning call, looking at him before giving a firm nod, “It’s a deal, but-”

“Don’t worry,” digging into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper before slyly sliding it into your hand, “we’ll figure out the details, yeah? Patient-nurse confidentiality, and all that.”

Giggling, you tried to ignore the way his hand felt in yours, melting at the warmth he radiated, “Of course, completely confidential.”

He grinned, letting his hand slip from yours he ducked his head in a silent goodbye, “See you later?”

“See you soon.” You reassured him with a glittering smile, watching as he reunited with the rest of his members and management team and joining them in whatever discussion they were wrapping up with.

Taking the chance to unfold the paper he gave to you, your eyes quickly read the numbers neatly scribbled in blue crayon, followed by a cute doodle of WolfChan’s face and a short message.

‘P.S. I think you have a cute butt, too - Chris’

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✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Liebevoll

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship, some fluff WARNING(S): Kaiser is a cringe loser, my bad german makes a comeback (I was always on that damn phone in german class)

Since you’ve been trying to learn German (you gave some stupid excuse about how you ‘want to know what shit he talks about you when he thinks you don’t understand him’), a golden opportunity to mess with you has appeared in front of Kaiser.

Obviously being that your brainwaves aren’t completely inactive, you knew not to ask him and instead try a language app first because he’s not to be trusted.

Not possible on Kaiser’s watch, though. Nuh uh. What do you need an app for when you have a boyfriend who’s perfectly capable of lying to you for his amusement?

Your phone was dealt with (snatched and tucked in Kaiser’s back pocket, where you’d rather wretch than reach) three exercises in… So you’re still about as clueless as in the beginning. Now, Kaiser is subjecting you to his ‘tutoring’.

“When someone holds the door for you, you bow and say ‘Ich hoffe, du wirst von einem Auto angefahren.’ It means thank you, by the way.”

“Uh, that’s too long to mean thank you.” You look at him like he’s forcing you to say tongue twisters, suspicion clear in your expression.

Kaiser finds your wariness and lack of understanding really cute, mainly because he’s a condescending asshole. He reaches out to try and move your mouth as if that’ll somehow assist you in pronouncing it, but you pry his fingers away from your face before he can reach. It makes him snicker.

After a few tries, you get through that one. Then Kaiser forces you through the ordeal of sounding out that string of bullshit multiple times ‘just to make sure you really memorized it’.

Next, Kaiser says, “When you want the tab at a restaurant, you should say, ‘Kannst du auf meinen Teller scheißen?’”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Why do you think you know more than me? It’s my first language.” He smiles at you in a wannabe suave manner.

Reluctantly, you repeat it back to him, more than once.

His gaslighting is almost becoming convincing with his insistence on you retaining this information as if you’re actually gaining knowledge here.

But you decide to take everything with a grain of salt, anyway, no matter how compelling Kaiser’s acting may be. You’ll try to search these up later. At least if you can manage to spell them based on what you heard.

The nonsense continues on like this:

“When a guy compliments you, you should reply with ‘Sag das noch einmal, damit ich dich ausweiden kann.’ It means thank you veeeeeeery much, by the way.”

“Does everything mean thank you according to you?!”

“Aww, that’s a really cute grumpy face you’re making.”

“Don’t dodge the question.”

Kaiser stares at you expectantly, scooting closer towards you and leaning in, his face inching closer towards yours. Disturbed (not swayed or affected at all, might you add!), you decide to comply.

He wonders what other stupid shit he should make you say. Even for a joyless and miserable person like Kaiser, it’s kinda difficult to stifle his laughter. Of course, someone as delusional as him would find entertainment in his own antics, but he’s doing a good job on not letting it show.

“After paying at the supermarket, you tell the cashier ‘Es gibt eine Leiche im Pausenraum’ and walk off immediately. It’s a social norm.”

What a shameless liar. You’re curious about what he’s making you say though, since he’s still not reacting when you repeat it back to him during this whole farce. The mischievous rat’s game is on point.

You continue to go along with it, though, since your intrigue is also making you want to learn them all so you can actually look them up after all this. In fact, you drop asking him about it regardless, pretending as if you let down your guard and believe him now.

This leads Kaiser to being more comfortable, testing the waters in a different direction, assuming you won’t think anything of it.

“You should greet me in German every time you see me as practice,” he says. “With something like ‘Du bist sehr schön.’”

Kaiser thinks he’ll think it funny because you rarely compliment him, but he finds himself liking it a little once you repeat it to him. Then he makes you say it again and again, aiming less to deceive you into thinking he’s dedicated to your linguistic education and more so for his satisfaction.

But Kaiser ignores this strange happiness. He tricked you into saying it, so it’s whatever. Doesn’t mean anything. In fact, he’d be a stupid microbe to dwell on it.

Once he strays down that part, though, it keeps escalating.

“Mit dir ist alles besser." - That’s probably the opposite of how you feel, so Kaiser finds some kind of humor in it conceptually. Then hearing is too much to his liking again.

“In deinen Armen fühle ich mich geborgen." - You’d never think something like that, god forbid you utter it out loud… What’s wrong with him? It’s supposed to be comedic. He’s pranking you! Punking you. You’re a gullible idiot!!! He like, got you so good or whatever.

"Du machst mich glücklich.”

When you parrot that one back to him with more ease, since it’s more on the simple side, Kaiser stares into your eyes with a kind of seriousness you find disconcerting. You expect him to demand you say it again so he can be sure you remember it, though the frequency of this request died down more and more with each phrase you spoke.

The silence stretches. You continue to gaze at each other with an almost bizarre confusion between you two.

Is he making you say things he yearns to hear deep down? Or is he finding an excuse to tell you things he’s reluctant to admit? Both options are pathetic and beneath him. And he also really can’t tell which one it is, either.

“Can you say it again?” asks Kaiser, more tender in tone.

“Du machst mich glücklich?”

You’re not a very affectionate couple. It’s to your surprise that Kaiser wraps his arms around you with tentativeness, like he’s skirting around something, then presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. Despite your puzzlement, you return the embrace, pulling him closer.

Now you’ve got to find out what it was to warrant all that from him for sure. Guess you’ll be utilizing speech to text later…

Ich hoffe, du wirst von einem Auto angefahren = I hope you get ran over by a car Kannst du auf meinen Teller scheißen? = Can you take a shit on my plate? Sag das noch einmal, damit ich dich ausweiden kann = Say that again so I can disembowel you Es gibt eine Leiche im Pausenraum = There’s a dead body in the break room Du bist sehr schön = You’re very beautiful Mit dir ist alles besser = Everything’s better with you In deinen Armen fühle ich mich geborgen = I feel safe in your arms Du machst mich glücklich = You make me happy I was writing a WIP with a premise I've never done before, but it got difficult to write whihc annoyed me, so I wrote this which is something that ive quite literally done before instead #StayStagnant

[generalsmemories]

The general has escaped... again

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: what's more stressful than managing the internal affairs of luofu you ask? making sure that your husband actually stays in one place when he's ordered to.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, humor, mentions of other characters, spoilers for 1.3 trailblaze mission, spoilers for the end of IL Dan Heng's companion quest

✧ a/n: under one patch update (1.3) this man has managed to run away from bedrest a total of 3 times, as such i'm obligated to write this - behold, the brainrot of the week. once again, jing yuan only appears at the very end, but this whole fic is just how everyone is stressing over how this overgrown cat can escape from right under their noses. not beta-ed as usual fellas.

There's a heavy silence lingering in the air around the Realm keeping commission. For once, the commission has been closed to the public for an hour to discuss internal affairs - is what the citizens of Luofu believes at least.

You don't seem affected by the tense silence, Yanqing notices. He's standing before you, glancing around the other tense officials that's seated by their own desk. The two alchemy commission members present with him seem equally as confused as to why you've summoned them here.

It's only when they hear you place your brush down that they all stand up straight, attention back on you now that you've started to move again.

"I have a favor to ask," you start off, looking at the three people in front of you.

"The general is currently still on bedrest, and the master diviner has temporarily taken his role as the acting general master while he rests, correct?" you ask, to no one in particular.

But it's the newly appointed chief alchemist, Yuluo that answers you, "That is indeed correct."

"However, knowing the general he might start to move the moment he feels some sort of movement come back to his muscles," you point out, having risen from your chair during the (mostly one-sided) conversation to stand before your desk, leaning slightly back towards it with your arms crossed.

"Which is why, I need you all to keep an eye on him," you declare in the end, "The general won't be straying far away from the Exalting Sanctum for reasons you all might know, so I would have to trouble both you and Jinwen to make the trips back and forth from the alchemy commission to assess his conditin from time to time. But Yanqing, you'll mostly have the responsibility to ensure that he doesn't try to do anything else than rest, okay?"

You were already fully aware that you gave the three people before you an impossible task.

And the three people before you was also aware of the fact, but what more could they do but bow their head slightly in confirmation with a resounding, "As you order."

Yanqing is pouting before you, picking at his food before you whilst you merely gaze at him from the other end of the table, "Not hungry? I thought this was your favorite restaurant," you say, in response Yanqing merely levels a glare at you. It doesn't reach his eyes because he has no animosity, you're pretty sure he's just irritated.

"... I tried," he membles after another few minutes of silence. The quiet confession making you chuckle, "I'm aware, I'm surprised you even managed to keep him laying down for so long."

"... I even nailed down a few swords by the covers so it would be harder for him to pull them off," he adds, stabbing a stray tomato with one chopstick to emphazise his point before shoving it in his mouth, "But then he's already dressed and waiting by the door when I went to the toilet to attend the ceremony that was held for the deceased! [Name], he was even waiting for me with a smile!"

Your smile softens upon hearing his complaints, a finger pushing a glass of water towards the boy before you as a silent suggestion for him to drink it, "I already anticipated that he would do that, so why the long face still?"

"Because he refused to go back to rest right after the ceremony ended! And what else can I do, but heed his order with so many people around?" Yanqing huffs, crossing his arms as his food is now forgotten with his irritation overturning his appetite.

"Well he's resting now isn't he? Jinwen is currently staying at the manor to make sure he doesn't step foot outside. The day of the ceremony would've also been one of the last times he could get in contact with our guests from the Astral Express too, I'm sure he wanted to give them that jade abacus himself."

Not to mention the fact he personally went to the shackling prison right after handing it- alone nonetheless.

You omit the part of information from Yanqing. The topic itself still brings a tense atmosphere between you and Jing Yuan after all.

But before you can placate the small lieutenant any further, you can feel hurried footsteps making their way towards your table. And when you turn your head around to look at the commotion, you find Jinwen panting before you, right behind her one of the Cloud Knights assigned to the manor. And even with a mask on you just know that they're not looking at you.

"[Name]..." Jinwen starts, and you hum whilst fishing up your wallet, "Yes?"

"The general..." she starts, reluctantly looking around, fiddling her thumbs in nervousness. You just hand Yanqing the money before standing up, "He's escaped again, hasn't he?" you confirm, eyebrow raising up in question.

The healer before you merely nods, "I-I'm sorry, I have no idea where he went, I went back to the kitchen to prepare the next dosage of medicine and when I checked again he had suddenly just vanished - the guards didn't even know anything either."

"Even if they knew, they can't really go against their general, can they?" you point out with a laugh, patting the distressed healer on the shoulder before looking over at the Cloud Knight behind Jinwen, "Gather some more Cloud Knights and tell them to meet up at the alchemy commission as soon as possible."

You let out a sigh, rubbing your templates as if that would soothe the headache that's about to form from listening to the Disciples before you yap away whilst getting their hands bound behind their back.

"I want to preface that with the main disaster onboard the Luofu is over, you are aware that we have more personnel at the ready to apprehend you?" you point out, directing your gaze away from the harbor of the alchemy commission where the trailblazer, Dan Heng and Jing Yuan were currently standing to face the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus before you.

Knowing your husband, he's already aware that you're here.

"... And the fact that even after you failed to eliminate Jing Yuan back in september 5 times, and yet still tried again today - and even trying to take two Vidyadhara's along with him? I understand the confidence you had back when the disaster first struck, but now?" you laugh is disbelief. You're aware that it's futile to try to discuss the matter with the Disciples, but everything was worth a shot.

They'll always give the same response after all. Once the general is gone, everything will go more smoothly, once you see the true vision you would agree with them and so on.

It was getting quite tiring.

"Either way, I've contacted the Ten-Lords commission, we will probably have to make a trip to Scalegorge Waterscape to check for any stragglers, but I'm sure the Ten-Lords will have this matter under control..." you mutter, noticing the trailblazer and Dan Heng approach you, "Trailblazer, and mister Dan Heng, have you finished the matters at hand?"

Dan Heng nods, glancing at the tied up Disciples before you, to which you only wave it off, "Yes... And thank you for taking care of the ones over here," he mumbles, giving you a curt nod.

"All in a day's work, do have a safe trip back home though," you voice, "And if you were to ever return to the Luofu for whatever reason, do send me a message. I can at least assure that you'll be somewhat safer than today. I apologize for the inconvenience that these people have caused you," you add on, gesutring towards the Disciples while ignoring the surprise in his eyes.

Dan Heng doesn't say anything, only giving you another nod as a confirmation before walking off.

"Well then, with all that done..." looking back over to the docks, you find Jing Yuan already staring up from his spot at you, giving you a small smile and a small wave of his hand.

"... Of course he's overexhausted himself."

"Do you enjoy making everyone around you worry? I think Jinwen aged a couple of decades with the stunt you pulled today," you start to nag the moment you're within earshot of Jing Yuan - your husband merely chuckling at your exasperated face as you stomp over.

"I apologize, dear. I just had an inkling that something would go awry with their journey. Finding you would've taken longer and Lady Fu Xuan is already busy as the acting general in my absence. So I figured this was the best course of action," he tries to reason, but he can never reason with you when it comes to his wellbeing - no matter how many times he's tried in the past.

So you don't answer him. You only stare at him, close enough for him to see your dissatisfication, but far enough for him to not be able reach you or hold you in his arms.

"... I do admit I'm pretty weary though, I think this is the last time I'll violate the healers' order," he admits in the end with a defeated sigh, raising his arms a bit as a silent request, "Can I request the assistance of my dear spouse in these trying times?" he jests.

However, Jing Yuan is well aware of the fact that you're still very much weak to the few times he does request help.

As with any matter with Jing Yuan that you're inevitably forced to pick up, you can only sigh as you step closer. Weaving your fingers between his own to pull him a bit closer before leaning in to give him a brief peck on the lips.

You then weave your fingers away from his own in favor to wrapping your arms around his waist in a snug embrace, Jing Yuan taking the chance to wrap his own arms around yours before he leans his entire weight on you.

The extra weight makes you let out a grunt of surprise, but Jing Yuan has already buried his face into your neck, letting out a deep exhale into your skin which makes it tingle while his shoulders slump, "... You big lion, you're rivaling Mimi's clinginess at this point," you whisper with a chuckle.

"I haven't seen my dear spouse since they had ordered me to be bedridden, I'm sure you can handle a little clinginess," Jing Yuan mumbles back, kissing the juncture of your neck.

"Yeah, yeah. As an apology for caring about your health, what about we try to get home so that you can properly rest on a bed instead of leaning your entire weight on your dear spouse?"

Jing Yuan hums in appreciation, leaning back to cup your cheek with a smile, "I think that sounds wonderful," he confirms before pressing his lips back on your own.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

HUNDRED TWO POINT THREE

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Synopsis: as they say, in sickness and in health, but Aaron Hotchner seems to take sickness too seriously. WARNING: a whole lot of nada (i hope). all fluff. overprotective!aaron (duh). not proofread !!!! Word Count: 912 A/N: THIS IS A REPOST of a req from my sweet, sweet lumi @egdropsoop when i was sick. i had to mourn accidentally deleting the original post. it felt so heart-wrenching. and i couldn't find the draft in my docs for almost a week, so it was another type of panic and heartbreak. this writer is such a dummy sometimes, but i hope rereading the fic in case it pops in your feed isn't so bad

 This week’s case, by far, has been the most difficult you have yet to experience. 

 Besides the buzzing summer heat of Los Angeles and the loud commotion in each corner of the local precinct, not only did you have to bring back sticky sweat and ringing ears, but you also brought back a mind-numbing body temperature of 102.3 degrees.

 With Emily’s driving and Spencer’s constant rambling, by the time you guys arrive at the airport, your body is creaking with chills and joint pain. 

 “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

 You feel Hotch’s hands lay atop yours, prompting your brows to clash and your head to turn to your side where he towered over you. “What? I’m trying to make tea.” You say disorientedly, breathing quite ragged.

 It’s his turn to knit his brows. “Sounds reasonable, but don’t you think your cup has enough hot water?” You follow where he’s looking at your blushing red hand, steaming with heat. “You’re going to burn your hand at that rate.” He adds, lifting his gaze back at you. 

 He reads you for a moment. Your pinkish cheeks, heavy breathing, and disoriented state told him enough to make a deduction. They tell tales that are similar to those of a small Jack Hotchner after a venture in the rain or dry sweat over a fun visit to the park. 

 “You have a fever,” He informs you sternly.

 “No, I don’t.” Your nose crinkles, shaking his hands off yours and straightening up. The simple movement alone brings your head to spin, pushing you against the counter. You close your eyes, “M’kay, maybe I do.”

 Everything seems fuzzy, but you feel Hotch’s gentle hand over the small of your back, and you’re suddenly being led to one of the two couches in the jet, momentarily seeing a pouting Spencer Reid, woken up from his slumber as he mumbles to another seat.

 Hotch wraps his jacket around yours, squatting in front of you. "Honey, why don't you lay down? Get some shuteye." His voice is gentle in your ears. He squeezes your hand in his while the other brushes away loose strands off your burning face.

 “You okay, mama?” Derek turns from his seat, “Want some cocktail with that fun swirly straw you and Penelope love?” He jokes lightly in hopes that humor will lessen the throbbing in your head.

 “It’s not the time for jokes, Morgan. If you’d like to help, maybe stay quiet in your seat.”

 The entire jet shuts up.

 Emily and JJ’s low whispers halt as they shift their gaze from where Hotch blocks Derek’s view. Spencer tries his best to stifle his laugh, but Rossi only shakes his head.

 “She has a fever, Aaron. Not cancer. Let the lady sleep in peace.” Rossi interjects in defense of the team’s eye candy.

 Hotch ignores him, rolling his eyes. He maneuvers back to the kitchenette in search of some cloth and a bucket to fill with tepid water. 

 Derek settles back in his seat with a look of disbelief, “I thought I was dead for a second.” He mutters under his breath. “He’s gone full papa bear mode on her.”

 They watch as Hotch pulls heaven and hell in your favor. He makes tea. Even finds a can of soup from somewhere in the cabinets, wondering why none of them has ever seen that before. He goes back and forth, placing a cloth over your forehead.

 His goal is to get you out of feverish delirium by the time the jet lands back in Quantico. And Hotch is quite the mission-oriented guy.

 "Aaron..." You mumble almost unheard if only everyone isn't eavesdropping.

 "You need something, hon?" He gently blots the cloth over your face. His sleeves are rolled past his elbows, and a rivulet of sweat is over his temple from all the movement he's made in the past ten minutes.

 "Stop fussing and let me sleep, hmm? Go drink some scotch with Dave or something." You shoo him with one hand and steal the cloth from him with the other.

 Hotch shakes his head as if your eyes haven't been shut tight for a while now, prying the cloth off your hand. "Come on, now, sweetheart. I can't just leave you alone." He coos, successfully repossessing the damp fabric.

 It takes a toll on your body when you sit up, yanking the small towel a second time from his grasp, more aggressive this time.

 "Hey, be careful—"

 You raise a hand to shut him up, "Aaron Hotchner. Take a break, or I swear you won't have a bed to sleep in when we get home." You huff, willing your facial muscles to look as intimidating as you possibly can at your state. "And Jack will not side on you. We both know I'm his favorite. So get." You point at Rossi's direction.

 He sighs in defeat, leaving a kiss on the crown of your head. "Fine. But tell me when you need something—"

 "Start walking, Aaron," You shake your head, giving him a stern look.

 The unit chief trudges to the seat next to Rossi, where the older agents offer a glass. Before Hotch can even decline, you voice rings in the jet.

 "You better take that glass."

 He rolls his eyes, but does as you say.

 Everyone fights their will not to burst into laughter, or they just might get pushed off the jet.

hotch masterlist | masterlist