#rattan swing

[sapphiccstudies]

Los Angeles Open Inspiration for a mid-sized eclectic open concept medium tone wood floor living room remodel with white walls, no fireplace and no tv

[vegetarianburrito]

Master - Bedroom A medium-sized transitional master bedroom with a carpeted floor, beige walls, and no fireplace

[napleonsolo]

Living Room Formal (Los Angeles)

[enought-ismytimetoshine]

Master - Bedroom

[andallshallbewell]

[silly-drawings-by-sugar]

Traditional Sunroom - Sun Room Example of a mid-sized classic light wood floor and brown floor sunroom design

[myblindbrother]

London Large Sun Room Inspiration for a substantial Scandinavian-style sunroom renovation

[generalhuccs]

Compact Sun Room in Boston An illustration of a small transitional sunroom design with a medium-toned wood floor.

[queenhunter102]

Damaging Government Property.

I don't know if you have seen the Video on TikTok where the wife had gotten in trouble for 'Damaging Government Property', I.E., she had given her husband a visible hickey, but I sure did. Blurb: Imagine you had just crawled your way into bed, it being the first night with  them being gone on a mission

You had barely climbed into your bed, flopping onto your front, your head hitting the pillow.

RING

RING

Simon 'Ghost' Riley You wonder who could be phoning you at such a dumbass hour; when you check your phone, it says private number, and you sigh, picking it up; it's Price at the other end.

“The Riley Residence” "This is Captain John Price"

You pull back from your phone looking at the number before you put it back to your ear.

"Yeah? Hi John"

"Don't 'Hi John' me, I can't believe that I must talk to YOU of all people, but Don’t Damage Government Property”.

That was all that was said before John hung up the phone, you stared at the phone wondering what that was about, before putting it back on your nightstand and falling asleep cuddling Simon's pillow.

A week later

You are sitting on the very few calls you can get with Simon when you remember the strange call from John.

"Hey Si, I got a question for you," you say, picking at an imaginary lint off the blanket that covered you.

"What's that, babe" came back the gruff reply, the sounds of a base in the background.

"John phoned me like a week ago and told me not to 'Damage Government Property' " you say, the word's damage Government Property sounded unsure and uneven.

There was silence on the line "What?" Said Simon.

You sighed "Yeah, I think he phoned the wrong person, could you talk to him about it”.

"Babe, what time did he phone you?" Simon asked.

"I don't know, like two in the morning" You could practically hear Simon's eye twitch.

"I'm going to kill him for disturbing you at a fucking dumb hour," Simon said as he hung up. Johnny 'Soap' McTavish You lift your phone but are not quite ready to sleep yet. The phone call read as private, and you are confused. You know Johnny won't be allowed to call you yet, but you pick up the call anyway. "Hello, you're calling Soap’s spouse," you say, sounding annoyed; you hear Ghost's tired sigh on the other end. "It's Lieutenant Simon, I know he's your boyfriend--" He said. "Fiancée, you know this, Si. You were there," you say, annoyed that he had addressed you and Johnny wrong. Ghost sighed this time, trying not to bark at you. "Until you and he share the same last name, I don't care," he said, practically growling in your ear. "My point is, I saw that stupid mark you left," He says, sounding annoyed; you scrunch your face in confusion. "What mark?" You say, sounding confused This time, he growled, "The Hickey, you know, the big bruise you gave him." Your face made an awed face, and now that you knew what he was talking about, you sighed into the phone. "I was careful; I made sure." At least you were confident. You knew better than to leave anything visual. "Yeah, well, guess what? We can see it, so do me a favour and don't Damage Government Property." A week later

Your phone began buzzing, it was Johnny. “Johnny! Is everything ok?” you asked, sounding a little worried it wasn’t often that he called you when he was out on a mission. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, Doll. I just found out that Simon phoned you, getting you into trouble for marking me. Honestly, I had my shirt off, and you’re the one in trouble,” he said, sounding pouty. He had gotten you in trouble for something that wasn’t your fault. Captain John Price

You sat in the Rattan Swing on the back porch, looking out to your back garden, your fingers tracing over the letters that John had sent you. You knew it was cheesy, but it made you feel special that he took the time to sit and write to you. Your phone sat off your side as you rested your head on the bars. Your phone began vibrating shaking you out of your fantasy, picking up your phone, answer the call without looking at the caller ID. “Well done, you’ve reached Captain Price. What can I do for you?” you say, your eyes still on the letters. All you heard was heavy breathing before John spoke, “I can’t believe they’re making me get you into trouble for this.” You pulled your phone away from your ear, looked at the number, and found it said ‘Private.’ “John? What’s happening is everything alright?” You ask sitting the letters to the right side of your knee, sitting up on the swing.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just-” He sighs before he speaks again. “Honey, you know before I left…we uh-you-know”, You smile, thinking of when you were lazing around the house, “Yeah? What of it, John?” “You gave me a hickey, and it was seen by one of my Commanding officers, and I need to give you the talk about ‘Damaging Government Property’,” he said, sighing. Well…Don’t damage government property,” he said, hanging up. You rolled your eyes. This was going to be a very long month. A week later “I can’t believe they made me give my own god damned spouse into trouble”, John exhaled. You laughed into the phone. “I know, it’s all you’re talking about in your letters”, you say, as you flicked through the most recent ones, “You still keep those?” he asks, and you smile. “Always.” Alejandro Vargas

You were repeatedly pushing furniture around your shared living room when your phone went off. When you finally reached your phone, you could barely catch the call. “Hello? You’ve reached the annoyed Vargas,” you say, leaning against the couch that was taking up half of the room. “Yeah, it’s me, John. I get you and Alejandro have fun and like to play a little hot and heavy, but not where the rest of us can see it,” John says, sounding a little annoyed. You tilt your head back. “John, I don’t know what you’re on about,” you say. “The Hickey, the one that is a deep purple; it's visible, so here’s the tagline: Don’t damage government property,” he says, huffing as he hangs up the phone. You pull your phone away from your ear as you finally read through your notifications, all from Alejandro, warning you not to pick up any private calls. A week later “I can’t believe you picked up the call,” Alejandro said, annoyed; you giggled into the phone. “He would have kept calling if I didn’t, you know how your captain is” you say, as you lifted the TV onto the TV stand, “Yeah, Yeah, He's a dog with a bone, You better not be re-arranging our flat.” You paused, turning to your phone. “No, never” Kyle Garrick You groaned as you rolled over onto your front, your phone insistently buzzing on the side table; you grumbled as you sat up blindingly, hitting your phone “Hel-lo?” you mumbled. “Hello, it’s John Price”, came the voice over the phone; you made a muffled noise “John? Ky’s Captain?” you answered, your eyes still bleary, trying to adjust to the darkness. “Yes, It’s his captain. I’m calling to discuss the hickey you gave Kyle,” he said, sounding frustrated; your face pinches as you lean over and flick on the light, it blinding you slightly, “Hickey? I didn’t-” you paused as your brain started to wake further “Oh yeah? No, I remember, the night-” you mumbled half out of it. “Ah, Ah, Ah, I don’t want to know, nor do I care. Just don’t damage government property,” he said before he hung up. “I can’t believe I’ve had to make a to all the boys,” he grumbled before the call cut out. A week later “He said what?” Kyle laughed, and you flipped your phone over onto your other shoulder. Yeah, apparently, you’re not the only one,” you said, laughing, as you pulled out the cookies from the oven, the tray clinking on the table. “Oooo, are you making your famous cookies?” came a different voice over the phone, and you rolled your eyes as you hit the speaker. “Yes, Johnny, they are the cookies.”

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See you around, my little loves.

Kissess.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the wood

lilac, chapter twelve

a/n: *the author's note equivalent of just ✨moaning✨*

summary: the sight that beheld you once you stepped out onto the porch had all of the air slip out of your lungs all at once.

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, chopping wood, kissing, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, belly bulge, outdoor sex, oral, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, squirting, mirror sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 5200

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Stirring awake with a gentle groan, your arm extended in search of the body beside you. Finding nothing but linens, your eyes groggily blinked open to discover that no one else was in the bed but yourself.

Tugging your arm back under your frame, you sighed and let your front sink further into the mattress, your cheek buried itself deeper into the pillow just a moment longer before you pushed yourself up to a sitting position.

Swinging your legs over the side, you reached for the grey woollen socks you’d kicked off in the middle of the night. As you slipped them back onto your feet, your gaze caught your reflection in the round rattan-framed mirror hanging on the opposing wall.

Letting your eyes linger, turning your head from side to side, you made sure that the recently faded bruises hadn’t somehow returned to haunt you of what had occurred. But thankfully, all you saw was skin. No marks, no scrapes, no bruises, nothing physical to remind you of Preston. 

Getting up, you caught the muted dark brown flannel that hung by the collar from one of the dresser’s knobs, and shrugged it on, doing up the buttons so the borrowed shirt covered you further. 

Pitter-pattering out into the small kitchen, you turned on the tap and reached for a glass, swiftly filling it up for a refreshing sip. 

As you lowered the drink from your lips, a satisfying cracking noise from somewhere outside found your ears and your gaze flickered to the cabin’s front door. 

The sight that beheld you once you stepped out onto the porch had all of the air slip out of your lungs all at once.

Just a little ways off from the hut stood Frank by a wide and sturdy stump, split wood littering around his feet as he repeatedly let the long axe in his grasp come down upon the piece balanced on the reliable base. 

Utterly hypnotised, your feet hazily carried you across the porch till your fingers were gripping onto the railing. Clad in a simple grey undershirt, the sight of the prominent veins in his arms bulging, straining at every violent hack till the thick log split, caused your brain to melt, and the fact that the hem slightly rose every time as well didn’t help matters either. 

Each one of his precise swings conjured a laboured huff that sounded way too close to how he had been panting in your ear just last night. Occasionally, small curses too slipped through his puffs whenever the wood he worked on got particularly stubborn, and every time, without a doubt, you felt your cunt clench.

As one log split, forcefully crashing to either side, he picked up a new one, but before he could crack it open, he rested the axe a second against his leg while he let a dollop of spit fall from his panting lips to his calloused palms, rubbing it in for better traction before he picked up the axe once more. 

Tingles pricked and tickled every nerve in your body as his sinful display eventually came to a close. The soft sunlight that streamed through the treetops caught a glint of the sweat gleaming on the part of his rapidly rising and falling chest that peaked out of the neckline of his tank, dabbling his skin like diamonds. 

Wedging his axe into the base stump, you continued to stare as Frank caught his breath and bent over to gather up the wood into the wide woven basket that too was at his feet, his gaze swiftly spotting your dazed form, nearly drooling at this point. 

“Oh, hey,” he smiled, offering you a small wave as he tossed a few pieces of firewood into the crate. 

“Huh?” still in a trance, you blinked, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as your thighs squeezed together in an attempt at soothing the persistent pulse that now throbbed between them. 

“You’re up.”

“Yep, I–, uhm, I am,” you shook your head, trying and failing to clear it, “morning.”

“I’m sorry,” he picked up the heavy basket, “did I wake you?”

“Nope, no, you didn’t,” you let out a sinful exhale as he climbed the steps of the porch. Redirecting your gaze elsewhere as he set the firewood down, you stared out at the forest and coughed, “there, uh, sure are a lot of birds out today.”

“Hm,” the porch creaked beneath his boots as he neared where you stood, “is that what you were staring at?”

“Yeah, why, did you not think I was? Was there something else going on here in the forest that could possibly capture my attention other than mother nature herself?” you joked, knowing full well how obvious the truth was, “I am Dunbrook’s resident birdwatcher after all.”

“Sure, you are,” a shiver ran down your spine as his deep voice rumbled in your ear. Wrapping his burly arms around your waist, you leaned back into his warmth as he gently checked, “how are you feeling today?”

“I’m alright, pretty good actually,” you answered the question he had formed a habit of asking you every morning you’d stayed here, “I slept quite well, so that always helps things,” turning in his embrace to face him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and wondered, “how long have you been up?”

“Not long,” his gaze traced yours, following as it yearningly flickered down to his mouth.

“You hungry?” 

Drawing you in closer, you heard him utter, “fucking starving…” before he captured your lips in a kiss. 

A little dazed from how rapidly the simple peck escalated, you pulled back to politely pant, “oh, yeah? What are you in the mood for?”

Flashing you a smirk, he cocked his head and said, “what do you think I wanna eat?” and if his tone didn’t manage to squash any ounce of doubt you had that he wasn’t in fact talking about food, the sensation of his hands sinking down to palm your bottom though the flannel made it crystal clear.

“Frank,” you giggled as his fingertips discovered your lack of underwear. 

“What?” you watched as he slowly sank down onto his knees before you, “is what a no?” his eyes stayed glued to yours as his beard tickled your thigh. 

“No,” your legs gently wiggled further apart, letting him spot the glint of your want that had dripped down your inner thighs.

“No, it’s not a no, or no, you’re in the mood for something else?” you sucked in a sharp breath as his ghosting touch teased your goosebump-ridden legs, “because I think we still have a bit of bread left or there might be some leftovers in the fridge.” 

Losing track of all of the metaphors through the fuzzy haze his teasing touch set you in, you mumbled, “I–, what?” and a small whine then fell from your lips, “fuck… Frank, I–… can you just–, please?”

“I can do a lot of things, sweetheart,” he pressed a peck to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, “what do you want me to do?”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, an airy chuckle flowing from your lips as you threw you head back and gazed up at the fluffy clouds visible above the rusty roof, “you’re such an ass.”

“Ah, I can be a lot worse, don’t you worry,” his devilish hands slithered up to your bottom and lightly raked his short fingernails over each cheek.

You sounded downright pathetic as you pleaded, “can you please–,“ but his playful tone cut you off before it flourished into a full sentence.

“Yeah?”

Blinking down at him, you desperately hiked the oversized shirt further up and asked, “…eat me out?”

Grin growing wider, he didn’t hesitate before diving in. Cracking you further open for him, he hoisted your left thigh up onto his broad shoulder and buried his face in your want. Holding you steady with one hand digging into your ass and the other firm at your hip, he zealously parted your petals and felt your pulse pound against his eager tongue.

As he then brazenly sucked down on your clit, your fingers sought out his dark hair, gripping it tight as your eyes fluttered, “oh my god, tha-that feels so good!”

With your brows tightly knitted together, as your eyes blinked down to meet his ever-unwavering gaze, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting go at a record-breaking time, the show you had imbibed in earlier not aiding in drawing your conclusion out. Trembling above, your legs tried to close around him, but the sensation of your thighs pressing against his thick skull didn’t face him one bit as he only held you tighter and kept up his keen kisses. 

Back arched against the railing, your chest rose and fell rapidly as Frank twisted his head to place pecks along your inner thigh, the soft flutter only issued a stubborn clench to your cunt in desire for more. 

Hooking your grip in the fabric of his shirt, you pulled him back up and desperately crashed your lips against his, feeling your desire sodden in his beard and tasting your adoration on his tongue. 

“Alright,” he dreamily disconnected from your needy kiss, “but seriously now,” he drew in a methodical breath through his nose as if in an attempt to calm his own desires down enough before he asked, “what do you want for breakfast?” clearly assuming that the morrow coitus wouldn’t go any further. 

Puffing out a hazy grin, you simply let your palm drop to the tent in his trousers and leaned back in to utter against his lips, “I don’t care what’s for breakfast,” your touch tightened insistently over the clear imprint of his desire, “just shut up and fuck me.”

A silent and amazed laugh slipped out past his lips as you tugged at his waistband, “yes, ma’am,” stealing one last kiss before he spun you back around. Grasping onto the railing, your hazy gaze washed over the idyllic scenery as you felt Frank free his length and sweep it through your dripping folds, nudging persistently against your pearl before gliding down to catch your entrance with his tip. 

The morning sunlight dazzled in the lake beyond, glittering and flickering just like the sparks that buzzed inside of you. 

Giving you just an inch, you felt your forms sigh in unison, your breaths harmoniously synced in satisfaction.

“Did I tell you how good you look in my shirt?” his low timbre crackled in your ear like a warm fire as he slowly rolled his hips, deliberately taking his time, letting you worship every maddening detail of his cock, “because you do,” you felt his palms snake up to squeeze your tits through the flannel, “feel free to steal them any time you want.”

Mouth agape, your head fell back against his chest as shaky moans slipped out at every unhurried rock to his hips. 

“You sure it’s not the lack of anything underneath that you like so much?” you grinned, your hips rolling back against his deliberate efforts.

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining about that part,” he chuckled and pressed his lips to your neck, “I think you might be able to get me to do anything you wish dressed exactly like this.” 

“Oh yeah?” your giggle broke up your moans, “anything I wish?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed gravelly, his fingers nimbly undoing a few of the buttons and granting his grasp access to slip in and seep across your tingly flesh, “fucking anything…”

Sinking in deeper with every gentle thrust, your left hand lowered and began to draw tight circles over your clit as the other’s grip tightened around the railing, your nails leaving crescent-shaped imprints in the raw wood. 

But when his lips began to wander across the side of your neck in a way that made you feel as if he was kissing every millimetre of your body, that’s when you felt your legs begin to tremble once more. The intensity of his slow pace began to grow within you, nearly being too much for you to take, so when his fingers sought out your pebbly nipples in a dizzying pinch, that’s when your frame jerked, Frank’s throbbing girth sliding out of you from just how hard you were squeezing down on him, and as your front collided with the fence, your fingertips furiously kept up their pace and kept your orgasm going, convulsing for all of the flora and fauna to see. 

Leaning with your folded-up arms against the top of the banister, Frank’s burly arms, which were still enveloped around you, tightened as you felt the warmth of his front melt against your curved spine. Letting one of your hands drop, it swiftly found his and weaved itself with it as you drew it up higher to press it against your thumping heart. Though when your pulse began to calm, you raised your tangled fingers further, all the way up so that your lips could press against the back of his palm. 

As you slowly unfurled your form, your fluttery kisses gently danced up his arm till you found yourself facing him once more with your lips attached to his collarbone. 

His bulbous tip leaked against the few buttons that were still fastened on the shirt you wore and his wide palms slid down past your waist to knead your bottom and draw you that much closer. 

Shuffling your feet, you gently pushed against his brick house of a frame for him to shift as well. Backing up, you crossed the short width of the porch till the back of Frank’s knees bumped into the solid bench that sat flush against the exterior wall. As he buckled and planted himself on it, it only took half a second for you to curl into his lap.  

Grabbing the sides of your face and bringing you into a sloppy kiss, you snaked a hand down between your frames and seized his dick. A low moan vibrated against your tongue as you raised up your hips and rubbed his hardness against your slick a moment before slowly sinking down, his lips falling from yours as you did so. Gazing back at him through your lashes, you saw as his eyes stayed shut, his mouth hung agape and his head gently fell back against the wall, the sensation of your warmth enveloping him evidently rocking him to his very core. 

Gliding your grasp into place over his broad shoulders, you slowly drew your hips up before easing back down, all the while taking in every little micro-reaction you stirred on your partner's face. 

“Christ, you feel so good,” he groaned, hazily peeling his eyelids open to blink back at you with a stary gaze, “so fucking warm,” he leaned back in a murmured against your lips, “and wet...”

One of your elbows bent and curled the remainder of the limb over his head, your fingers weaving into his short waves as you slowly nuzzled your nose against his, gently sweeping from side to side and sharing his hot breath as you leisurely bounced in his lap. 

Keeping one of his palms glued to your hot cheek, the other one drifted down to undo the last remaining buttons, freeing your tits completely. His gaze lowered to watch them sway with your slow movements, the open flannel now akin to a curtain flowing next to the soft peaks. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, holding you close as his dark brows knitted together, “if you keep going like that, you’ll make me cum.”

“Good,” you panted as you too felt the end near once more. With your forehead pressed to his, you shakily rode him, keeping up the same leisurely pace, feeling every single part of him intoxicatingly stretch you out, till his groans grew louder and his eyes screwed shut, digging his fingers into your hair as his length twitched inside of you and you creamed all over his cock, your amalgamation mingling and becoming indistinguishable from one another’s euphoric juices. 

Burying your features in the crook of his neck, your breaths came in ragged as you felt how tightly your cunt was clenching around him. But nevertheless, you simply stayed there, frozen atop of him and with his softening girth still embedded deep within you.

“Oh my god,” you groaned light-heartedly into his skin, “you fucking dick.”

“What?” he chuckled warmly in your ear. 

“No, it’s just,” you huffed out laboured breaths as you hazily explained, “you made me cum so hard and now I feel like a fucking virgin…” but when his reaction was to try and pluck you off of him, a sharp hiss escaped your lips, “no, no!” your arms tightened around his neck, “stay, stay,” your alarming tone was softened by a shuttering whimper.

Seizing your cheek, he gingerly drew you back for him to take in your fuzzy expression, “oh, you want me to stay?” he smiled at the pout that had formed on your lips, and a sluggish nod tipped your head at his playful tone, “alright,” he tilted his chin and pressed a kiss to the edge of your hairline, “I can stay.” 

“It’s dumb,” you murmured as you felt his pecks flutter down your face, “but I’m just kinda scared that if you pull out I’ll just somehow close up completely.”

“You won’t,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his chest as he neared your lips, “don’t worry, I’ll help you if it ever comes to that.”

Tilting your chin, you pressed your lips to his, your tongue swiftly swooping in to dance lazily against his own. 

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as you felt his touch lightly ghost all along your spine, caressing up and down the length of you as your kiss grew sloppy. 

As you noticed your sensitive pussy begin to relax, so too did you sense when Frank’s cock, which previously hadn’t gone completely soft yet, began to swell within you, the sensation making your hips instinctively grind down against him as the sensation consumed you. 

And with his lips never leaving yours, a light squeak escaped your lungs as Frank suddenly rose to his feet, scooping you with him, his fat cock all the while still staying warm within you. 

As his slow stride carried you back inside, your gaze was hazy as his kisses migrated down your neck, but when you passed the kitchen, your eyes snapped back open, “wait,” you stopped him and his lips detached from your pounding pulse, a string of saliva still keeping him connected to where a lavender love mark had begun to bloom, “I’m thirsty! I still–,” keeping one arm hooked around his neck, you carefully pointed to the half-full glass still on the counter, “my water is right over there.”

With one hand under your bottom and the other clasped at your waist, he redirected his steps and walked over to the small open kitchen. Once he reached the counters, a sly smirk seeped across his features as he commanded, “hold on tighter,” and as you did, his grip then shifted and let go of your side to grasp the glass of water.

“You know, you could just put me down,” you chuckled as he lifted the drink up to your lips, carefully tilting it and granting you a sip.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” his coffee gaze stayed fast on your lips as you drank. When you tipped your head back to halt the flow, a little droplet escaped the corner of your mouth, rolled down your chin and all the way to your exposed chest. Setting the glass back down, he swiftly dragged the back of his index finger along the glistening stripe and wiped it up, “making a fucking mess,” briefly leaning in to clean up the rest with his tongue.

Giggling fleetingly at his comment, you asked, “do you want a sip?” but he only gazed back at you and gently shook his head, other desires more prevalent in his mind.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you felt his girth throb inside of you.

As his stride slowly began to return towards the bedroom, it only took you letting your arms hang at your sides a moment for the flannel to cascade off of you and drop to the floorboards.

Craning his neck, he buried his face in your boobs, nipping and nuzzling gently against the soft flesh as you insistently tugged at his grey tank, one of your socked feet also shifted and nudged at his waistband in an attempt at getting him to the same level of undress as you were at. But unfortunately, none of your efforts yielded much success as his grip on you halted the fabric from exposing too much of his warm flesh. 

You hadn’t truly comprehended that you’d reached your destination before your spine pressed against the doorframe, Frank momentarily using it as leverage as he carefully lifted you off him, shifting his hold on you as you felt his previous load begin to drip out.

Gingerly plopping you down onto the bed, you expected him to melt down atop of you and bury himself so deep inside of you that you wouldn’t be able to walk for a whole week, instead his warmth disappeared as he took a few steps back, his dark eyes glued to you and the mess between your lazily fallen open thighs, as he stripped off the clothes that clung to his bulky physique.

Raising yourself up onto your elbows, your teeth snatched up your bottom lip as you spotted the lewd stain on the front of his pants, completely sodden with your essence. 

He was surely taking his time with it, putting on a show and letting you drool over every sliver of skin he revealed, but perhaps it was just your impatience getting the best of you, because when the last bit of fabric finally dropped to the floor and he stood there a second in all of his jaw-dropping glory, you heard your whine resonate within the cabin, “Frank, my legs feel like jello,” a breathy laugh slipped out past your pout as you feared he’d ask you to come crawling to him, “please get back over here.”

Choking down a laugh of his own, he painfully slowly stepped closer to you, your thighs splitting wider as he neared. 

“You sure?” he playfully cocked his brow as his fist closed in around his fat base, stroking himself agonisingly close to your puffy pussy, “I thought you said I made you come so hard that now you can’t take it anymore,” smiling as you attempted to wiggle closer without any success, “you sure you can handle more?”

“Yes,” flowed from your lips as you stared at the way his grip slid up and down his intimidating length, the lingering gloss making his movements go molten, “yes, I can take it, please, I want more.”

Finally granting you a tad of contact, he tapped the hefty weight against your swollen pearl, “yeah?” gliding his free palm down your inner thigh to fight it as it jerked in response, “this what you want?” he repeated the action, the lewd soppy smack resonating within the room, “or was it more something like this,” you gasped as he suddenly slid the entirety of his length inside of you.

“H-holy shit!” you felt all of the air get pushed out of your lungs as his tip nudged against the deepest part of you, a sensation that caused your limbs to tremble at his sides. 

“What?” he smirked, pulling back out completely, and gliding his weight through your soppy folds, parting them with his girth as he rubbed against your clit, “I didn’t quite catch that,” your hazy gaze fluttered down to see how far up your stomach his length rested, the staggering image efficiently causing your brain to melt out of your ear. 

“Yo-you, you, yes!” you blubbered incoherently, “that–, yes!”

“What? This?” he bullied your clit further. 

“Ah!” you moaned sharply, “no, no–”

“Oh, you mean this?” he slammed back inside of you so fiercely that tears formed in the corners of your eyes, “is this what you want? Would this make you happy?” he slowly eased back out, just halfway, before burying himself once more, “because you know that’s all I want, is just to make my girl happy.” 

Mouth agape, you watched as he fucked you, still standing tall next to where to laid melted against the mattress, but when you noticed the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in the lower part of your stomach, your eyes grew wide, and the tangible proof made your pussy threaten to flutter around his girth. 

“F-Frank!” you whimpered as he gazed down at you, admiring the way you took his entirety, “I think I'm gonna–”

“What?” he offered you one last thrust before retracting completely, leaving you squirming as he dropped down to his knees before you, “you’re gonna what?”

Both of his thumbs briefly came up to spread your puff apart for him, granting him a great view of your collected mess that still oozed out of you. redirecting his gaze to stare up at you, he placed a few teasing pecks along your glistening petals, his prominent nose nudging against your puffy clit as he teased you, making his way up to lap a cruelly light lick to your sensitive pearl. 

“I am waiting patiently here,” two of his fingers came to fill you up, hooking inside of you and swiftly initiating a rocking rhythm against that spot that conjured the lewdest of squelching melodies, “what are you gonna do, huh?” and as he sucked down on your clit, he only did so for what felt like a second before it all became too intense and your pussy gushed around his determined digits, a display he had obviously hoped for as he bellowed gravelly, “there it is,” a feral look glazing over his intense gaze as he tickled out as much of your nectar as you’d grant him, “fuck!”

As you laid there quivering and shaking on the crumbled sheets, the last thing you’d expected after a high so paralysing was for you to crave more, and you did. In a deep and primal way that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. In a way that caused you to sluggishly yank him up onto the bed and feel his weight on top of you, a sensation you didn’t get to savour long before he rolled around, taking you with him as he planted his head upon the pillows still at the top of the bed and manhandling you on top of him. 

Body melted and plastered atop of his, you uttered into his skin, “you’re being so mean.”

Digging his grip into your hips, he grinded you down against him and checked, “too mean?”

“I–…” you thought about it a second before the corners of your lips began to tip upwards, “no… I like it, but you’re just still mean.”

Manoeuvring your molten frame, he lifted your pelvis up far enough for him to slip back inside.

“Yeah, well, what else is new,” you felt his low chuckle rumble in his burly chest beneath your cheek, “we can’t all be a ray of sunshine like you.”

Keeping his grasp glued to your hips, you swiftly discovered that your exhausted limbs weren’t up to the task of doing all of the work independently and became ever so grateful when you didn’t even have to ask for help as Frank began to rock your frame for you, moving you like a toy on top of him. 

Arms curling up and retracting in against your form, you smooshed your cheek further down against his chest as you drooled on his pecks, the rocking motion nearly lulling you off into a dream, but before you could fade away completely, Frank’s voice washed over you once more.

“Hey, sweetheart?” 

“Mhm?” you mewled as he fucked you down upon him.

“Can you open your eyes for me?”

And when you did, it took your fuzzy gaze a moment before you spotted the mirror on the far side wall and the reflection in it, but when you did notice it, the shuttering moan you let out left no doubt in Frank’s mind if you had or not. 

“Look at how fucking pretty you are when you’re all fucked out,” you felt him shift his hold so that he kept your hips stagnant and bucked his own up into you in such a way that caused your head to levitate just a centimetre off his pecks as his balls slapped against you from the force of his efforts, “can you keep your beautiful eyes right there on the mirror? I want you to see how cute you look when you cum…”

You weren’t sure that cute was the specific word you would have used to describe how it looked when he once again made you squirt all over his cock. But sure, you could see how in Frank’s eyes you must have looked utterly adorable gushing around him from just how good he made you feel. 

Rolling over, you both now laid on your sides with your limp leg flung over his hip and his flush face clutched in your palms as you held him close in the silky embrace. 

“Frank,” your woollen-socked foot caressed his lower back as it methodically moved beneath it with every lavish thrust, “I don’t think I can cum again.”

“Is that a challenge?” his warm palm slid down your frame and he pressed his middlemost fingers down upon your overly sensitive clit, “because I think you can. I even think you can squirt some more for me,” and as he angled his molten motions, he didn’t quit till your face screwed up and squelching noises echoed at every zealous plunge, “such a fucking good girl, you can do it, just let go, I’ve got you,” he talked you through your high as it crashed into you, nearly knocking you out completely as your body fulfilled his wish and his own peak swiftly followed suit as your clambering pussy milked him dry.

With sweet sweat glistening up your skin, you felt utterly boneless as you laid there in Frank’s arms. Placing a few slow pecks all along the length of his nose, he hummed contentedly and a soft smile warmth up his features. 

After nearly falling back asleep in the safe cocoon that was the post-coital bliss, you heard yourself ask after you both landed on not slumbering the day away. 

“You wanna take a shower before we actually figure something real out for breakfast?”

“Wow, okay,” he jokingly scoffed as he began to drag himself out of the bed, “but don’t think this is gonna work a third time.”

“What?” you chuckled as he got up to his feet and pulled open the top dresser drawer for a few fresh towels, “no, I seriously just mean cleaning up before we eat!”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[wanderingsimsfinds]

WanderingSims Fave CC - Kids/Nursery Pt. 2 List

1-3, 38-39 - johziii - Nursery Prints Set (Animalia Paintings V1, Animalia Paintings V2, Minimalist Animals Painting, Wildlife Painting)

4 - SimsDeoGloria - 4t3 Charly Pancakes SMOL Framed Animal Paintings

5-6, 15 - MainlyJustTheSims - 4t3 Syboulette Candy Nursery Set (Books, Cat Plushie, Diapers Box)

7-8 - MainlyJustTheSims - 4t3 Syboulette Charles Set (Nightstand & Potty Chair)

9, 13, 17 - MainlyJustTheSims - 4t3 Syboulette Helios Set (Crib, Folded Towels, Nursery Table)

10, 14 - SincerelyASimmer - Baby Wipes & Pack of Diapers

11 - Metisse - 4t3 Babyganics Cream Wash

12 - Metisse - 4t3 Johnson Baby Lotion

16 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Soloriya Darina Deco Toy

18 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Leosims Star Wall Lamp

19-20, 22-24 - MainlyJustTheSims - 4t3 Cowbuild Rattan Nursery Set (Protective Diaper Rash Cream, Hydrating Baby Lotion, Brush & Comb in Ceramic Glass, Soothing Baby Face Cream, Baby Shampoo & Body Wash)

21, 25 - studio-papillon - 4t3 Pinkbox Anye Diaper Bag & Diapers

26 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Cozy Nursery Extras Baby Bottle Deco

27, 29 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Cowbuild My Home Set (Rainbow Plush & Soft Bear Mini Chairs)

28 - johziii - Critters Reading Nook

30 - helen-sims - Ladder with Garland

31 - WanderingSims - Rugs 3 Collection

32-35, 41, 44-45 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Cozy Nursery Set (Changing Table, Toddler Swing, Cute Fox Baby Mobile, Retro High Chair, Baby Clothing, Sweet Home Crib, Baby Bear Bath Seat Deco)

36-37 - MainlyJustTheSims - Kids Jungle Room (Bed Base & Shelf)

40, 42-43, 46 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Cozy Nursery II Set (Rocking Horse, Activity Table, Deer Slide, Cute Cow Potty)

[hannahssimblr]

A car comes to a stop up on the strand road, headlights glancing blades of the marram grasses, and the engine idling as the B&B sign across the road swings out of time with the waves. A door opens, shuts, and unsteady feet scrape the tarmac. 

He is drunk and alone, and staggers down the steps towards the beach house as I watch from the rattan couch. 

“Hello.”

He jumps. 

“Jaysus, fuck… feck sake. What are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep. I was waiting to feel tired.”

“Oh, right,” Shane sways precariously to one side, catching himself with a side step, “You home long, or?”

“An hour, maybe. Where’s the others?”

“Chipper. I got chucked out.”

“Why?”

“Too drunk, they said. It’s bullshit, though, because I’m not drunk.”

“Yeah, bad call. You don’t seem it.”

“I didn’t want chips anyway.” He hiccups and decides on settling into a casual lean against a wooden post. I’m certain it’s the only thing that will keep him upright. “Get Evie home, did you? Safe and sound and all?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good… she’s…” He waves his hand as though I know what he’s talking about. Like he needn’t say it. 

“She’s what?”

“You’d need to be taking care of her, you know?”

“Me specifically?”

“Anyone. She’s like that, you know what I mean? She needs minding.”

I huff out a laugh. “Bit protective. She’s grown up.”

But he shakes his head mournfully. “No, she has to be looked after. That’s what I think. That’s what every- that’s what her mam thinks.”

“Does she?”

“Yeah. I’m to keep her away from things, alcohol and whatnot, that’s my job,” he lets out a goofy, inhibited laugh, “Should keep her away from you, I’d say.”

“Me?”

“Imagine her mam knew she was hanging around you,” he puffs some air out and shakes his head. “Marian would not be happy, I’ll tell you that for nout.”

I lean forward onto my knees and raise an eyebrow at him, and he rambles into some explanation, “It’s just, like, no offence or nothing, she just wouldn’t know what to do around someone like you. She’s not able for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” he throws me a sloppy grin and tries to wink, I suspect, but ends up blinking both eyes instead. “You’re on a different planet altogether.”

“It isn’t like that, though. We’re just friends.”

“You don’t fancy her, no?”

“What? No.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Does she know that?”

“Know what? That I don’t fancy her? I don’t know.”

“I hope she does, she’s… look. She’s a sensitive kind of person. She might take it awful… awful, very hard if she thought one thing and then the other thing were to be the case.”

“I’m pretty sure she knows it’s just a friend thing,” the sense memory of her leg pressing into mine floats to the front of my mind, and I shove it back into the murky depths. “Like, I’m moving to Berlin.”

“And she’s aware?”

“Yeah, you were there when she found out.”

“Alright then.”

“Alright. Go to bed, Shane.”

“You go to bed, you big eejit”

I smirk. “Yeah, I will in a minute.”

He releases himself from the pole and stumbles across the sand towards the stairs. 

“Careful,” I say, and he grunts. 

I hang out on the couch for a while longer, even though it’s cold, and the hair on my arms and legs stands on end with that frigid wind from the sea. 

I imagine I’m back in the church with Evie. That refracted, coloured light all over her face again, and her green eyes shining. This time, things would go differently and I wouldn’t switch off the light. I would kiss her, very slowly, and open my mouth. Her body would go all soft in my arms, and she would smell like jasmine flowers. 

Later, I’d come into her room and I’d just kiss her more. We wouldn’t look at books, or drawings, or talk about Michelle. I would just toss that red hoodie onto the floor and she’d lie down on the bed underneath me. I know she would. 

I don’t like knowing it. She wouldn’t like to be thought of this way, but it’s okay, because I’m just investigating. These are tests, a way for me to check for signs in my body that I enjoy this fantasy about her. 

But when I shut my eyes to really get into it, I’m not with her, I’m hurled back into the locker room again, the shock like a cold shower. Fitzy, a bilious vision, floats into my eyeline among the stench of stale sweat and earth. “What was she like?” He says, eyes hungry, “I bet she was dead eager, was she?”

I want to knock myself out. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[timextoxhajima]

Sonder: Part IV

Parts: I II III IV V

member: enhypen heeseung! x oc! woo ki yeom [3rd person pov]

genre: coming of age, slice of life, angst, romance

w/c: 5.8k

warnings: topics on religion, distressed relationships, mental health (I want to leave an a/n here that I grew up with my maternal family being Buddhists so what I've written is based off what I researched online and the way her family practised Buddhism. I'm personally a free-tinker and this narrative is not in any way meant to offend nor support any particular religion.)

synopsis: after being kicked out of her home, Woo Ki Yeom is forced to live life on her own. struggling to find herself in the midst of her chaotic life, she meets lee heeseung, who, like her, can't give any more fucks to life than she does.

"n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own."

It had taken Heeseung awhile to fall asleep, despite knowing that she was long passed out. If he tried hard enough, he'd be able to hear the first morning birds chirping from a distance.

Ki Yeom was wrapped in her blanket, passed out on the mattress on the floor. Her place was kept simple and somewhat tidy, with an abundance of instant food and a rather adequate range of cutlery and utensils. The furniture is minimal - they look like resale items from garage sales or thrift stores. There's a small desk in the corner where her laptop is, and right next to it is a single-columned shelf with some files and books. He wonders if they have her drawings, but he's too tired to get up and be nosy.

Besides, he's heard enough of her story to feel bad for her, to feel like he was an asshole for thinking the world was a boring place. Suddenly, he feels like a hypocrite.

He had the perfect home, much like the best friend she had described, and yet, he chose to pack up and leave, in search of 'life's purpose'.

Heeseung sighs, breath trembling. He leans his head back on the kitchen cabinets, and prays that his tail bone and neck wouldn't hurt too much in a couple of hours.

By the time Ki Yeom's eyes had finally managed to open (albeit how swollen and uncomfortable they were), she had already managed to make out the blob that's passed out along the length of her kitchen and cabinets.

He slept facing upwards, one arm under his neck and the other over his eyes, hair tousled and his shirt was slightly pulled up to expose his belly button.

She rolls over in her mattress, arm extending to the rattan box she had by it as a tableside top.

11.38am. 3 missed calls. 327 unread messages.

She pulls the notifications bar down.

2 missed calls from Jun Yeol.

1 missed call from Soo Min.

Jun Yeol: Hello?

Jun Yeol: Don't you have an appointment coming in at 12.30pm?

"Fuck."

Ki Yeom sits up, tired eyes struggling to remain open. She swings her legs over the edge and stands, stretching her neck and arms as she walks over to the bathroom quietly.

And for the first time in four years, there's a need to close the bathroom door.

The afternoon sun was ruthless when she stepped out, scorching her skin in all the spots she was exposed, but it felt different.

Ki Yeom wonders if the talk the night before had really made the difference. Why did it make such a huge one?

She pushes herself into the parlour, rushing past Soo Min and Jun Yeol (so they wouldn't be able to spot her swollen eyes that easily) and straight towards her client who was already seated at her booth.

Heeseung jolts awake when a car honks, then he realises the sun wasn't in its usual spot in the mornings when he normally wakes up. He sucks in a deep breath, then yawns, hands fondling his sides for his phone. Gone.

He quickly sits up, wondering for a moment if the girl might've possibly stolen it. But as he sits up, he spots his phone being charged at the plug on her desk.

He sighs, instantly feeling terrible about doubting her. Awkwardly squatting next to her desk, he unlocks his phone without pulling out the charger, looking through the messages that his friends had spammed in their groupchats and the Instagram notifications that he couldn't really care less about.

Maybe I should just delete it, He thinks to himself. Then he unplugs his phone, then grips the edge of the table to pull himself up.

That's when he spots the post-it note pasted to the surface.

Feel free to stay the day. I trust you won't steal anything. I have an appointment and then I have to meet the friend I was telling you about last night for coffee in the evening. Wish me luck.

Heeseung peels it off the desk and reads it again. He gently folds it, deciding he would keep it as some sort of contract for their friendship. As he drops it in his pocket, he realises that he was instantly finding joy in being an annoying friend.

It's a slow afternoon as he goes back to his apartment, freshening himself up before leaving to run errands. But just as he steps out of the lift-

"Hi, I'm looking for a Woo Ki Yeom?"

Heeseung looks up from his phone despite having already walked past him. He doesn't turn, but in his peripheral vision, he can make out an older man, probably in his late 40s, talking to the guard at the counter.

Exiting the building, he turns back and looks in through the glass, watching the man gesture to the security guard. In his wrinkled hand was a little note, which Heeseung assumes is the address, and as he swaps the note from one hand to another, he wipes his free palm on his Bermudas.

Heeseung looks away, heart stopping and breath held.

They have the same tired eyes.

"Alright," Ki Yeom takes a deep breath, sitting upright from the crouched over position she was in. She gently pats the wrap and pulls off her gloves, reaching over for a newly packaged ointment bottle and placing it into a plastic bag. "This is the moisturizer ointment. Wash your tattoo two to three times a day gently with water then dry it, then use the ointment. Don't go sunbathing or tanning until your tat's healed."

"How long before it's healed?"

The girl sits up in the chair and swings her leg over the edge, awkwardly lifting up her arm where the abstractly-drawn starfish was red and swollen.

"Uh..." Ki Yeom laughs a little (on the inside. She doesn't want to hurt the girl's feelings. The star fish has the diameter of a coin). "I'd say a month? Should be fine... Do you go to the beach or go swimming in an outdoor pool or running or...?"

"Oh, no. I just... you know. Wondering how long I have to wait..."

Ki Yeom squints at her before turning around in her roller chair, reaching out to pack her equipment and inks. "Wait? Before... showing it off?" She pauses, studying her client. "Someone doesn't want you to get a tat, huh?"

The girl purses her lips together in an awkward, embarrassed smile. "When it's healed, it's easier for me to say that I've already gotten it done and there's nothing to be done about it."

Ki Yeom smirks cheekily, tossing her used gloves into the bin by her station. "My boss once told me that tattoos belong to the person that's getting it. Your body, your choice. If that's of any comfort."

The client nods again, unsure how to respond. Ki Yeom ignores the horrid ending to the conversation and walks her up to the cashier, where along the way, she spots Ji Yeon loitering outside the parlour like a stalker.

Maybe I shouldn't have told her I was free today.

After her client leaves, Ki Yeom pretends not to see Ji Yeon, meagerly walking back to her station as if dragging out the time and procrastinating the coffee date. Though, she kind of needed it, after all that crying and lack of sleep last night. In fact, Ki Yeom is surprised she had managed to stay awake the entire time she was working.

"She's like an ex-boyfriend," Soo Min calls out from her station, eyes quickly glancing to her and then back to her own client.

"Y'think?" Ki Yeom widens her eyes, well aware that she wasn't in anybody's field of vision to see it, as she crouches to pack her bag.

"Will you be okay?"

Ki Yeom picks up her bag up and swings it over her shoulder as she stands. "I guess I'll find out later."

Soo Min looks up from her client for just a second, and nods.

There's a reluctance in Ki Yeom's chest as she turns around. Ji Yeon was still outside, now back facing the parlour, and turned to face the road. She was looking up at the buildings, eyes still full of wander.

I will always be second to Ji Yeon. As someone experiencing life; as a person. She will always be kinder, and sweeter, and gentle with her words. Polite to the elderly and patient with the children. The type of person that cats and dogs wouldn't hesitate to run up to on the streets, as if they already knew her.

The waitress at the coffee shop was clearly more than surprised to see the unfriendly tattoo artist coming in with another person. And as the cherry on top, said person was the polar opposite of Ki Yeom.

"Hello," Ji Yeon greets the waitress, who beams upon the acknowledgement.

Great, now I look even more like an asshole.

"Hi! Can I get you started on any drinks or appetisers?" The waitress is high-strung, as if excited to finally have someone to talk to. The dinner crowd hadn't come in yet, and Ki Yeom is slightly curious at why she seemed so enthusiastic.

"Give us a couple of moments to look through the menu. What do you recommend?"

"We're known for our coffees! But our pork belly rice bowl and fusion items are popular as well."

"Great, I'll keep that in mind."

And with that, the waitress smiles widely, greeting Ji Yeon again before she walks back to the counter.

"Can we get this over with?"

Ji Yeon looks up from her digital menu and at Ki Yeom, eyes tired and shoulders sunken.

"You look like you didn't sleep a wink last night," She points out as-a-matter-of-factly, looking back down at her phone screen.

"I slept late, and slept badly, just so you know. But we don't have to prolong this. What do you want to talk about?"

"Are you hungry? Shall we get their coffee specials and just a pork belly bowl for sharing?"

Ki Yeom stares at her, wanting to frown but unable to when she looks up from her phone again, eyes bright and spirits lifted.

Then this nagging, digging feeling in her stomach comes again after four long years. The feeling of watching someone be absolutely perfect, knowing you wouldn't be anywhere near and being unable to fathom why.

She was in perfect control of her feelings, her facial expressions, her body language, her tone and her words. Ki Yeom knows that the problem is within herself, but she knows she doesn't have the patience to fix it.

"Can you stop being like this?"

Ji Yeon presses the submit button on the digital order form as Ki Yeom hurtles the words at her. She looks up at her, then locks her phone and places it facing down on the table.

"Like what?" She gently shakes her head and politely places her hands on her thighs.

Ki Yeom tightens her jaw, leaning back in her seat and placing her wrists on the edge of the table, fingers curled in, like she was stretching, while facing Ji Yeon who was sat opposite her. She studies Ji Yeon - That blank, innocent look on her face that tells her Ji Yeon truly has no idea what she's talking about.

It steps on her toes all over again.

"Like a perfect... specimen of a human being. What's wrong with you? Are you so afraid to hurt someone? Are you scared that being angry is going to piss someone off? Are you afraid to make enemies?"

Now, there's a gentle frown slowly forming between Ji Yeon's brows. "I don't understand. What does the way I respond to things have anything to do with this conversation we're supposed to have?"

"Because you're just so perfect! Do you owe the world something? Why do you care so much about how people look at you?"

"What are you talking about?"

Ki Yeom pants slightly, realising that she was speaking abit louder than normal. Her hands were now gripping the edges of the table. She sighs and rubs her eyes.

"No, don't shut down on me now," Ji Yeon reaches out and pulls her hands off her face.

"Don't touch me!" Ki Yeom retracts her wrists sharply.

Ji Yeon is obviously hurt at the rejection, but she leans back and crosses her arms across her chest. "Go ahead. Say something else. After all, this is how much you've spoken in four years."

"Oh, now you're getting mad? All those years of being Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes finally catching up to you, huh? I was the grumpy one and you were always the pretty, smart, nice one and you loved it!"

Ki Yeom pauses, watching as the brutal truth and harsh emotions begin leaking from a cracked bottle that she had tried so hard to wrap up and throw away. It's slow - the beads collecting at the little cracks. So small, that you might mistake the bottle for condensed beads of water.

"And you know what? You loved it all the way until my family fell apart. Even then, being the nice person was your utmost priority! Paying for my meals when I said I could. Buying things for me just because I mentioned it once! And then when it all happened, you ran around asking where I was, announcing that you were just worried. All that effort trying to find me and making sure that I was okay. Well, guess what? With or without you, I was not okay. I needed a friend. A friend who would get angry with me and be broke together and lose all direction in life. Not a fucking guardian trying to replace my fucking parents. Not a role model that's excelling at everything she does. Not a person that never disappoints."

Something in the kitchen dings. It's a good thing nobody else was in the cafe right now, for a pin drop would sound like a metal thermoflask dropping on the floor.

Ki Yeom had completely expected Ji Yeon to pack her things and leave. Maybe throw a cup of water at her. Or at least tear up and cry out of hurt and grief.

But she is Ji Yeon, and to Ki Yeom, she will always be perfect in the way she feels things; sees things; perceives them. Right now, Ji Yeon is just but a person who is victim to the trials and tribulations of life, the victim to individual thought and perception.

"You're right," Ji Yeon responds quietly. The reply stuns Ki Yeom, surprise seeping again into anger. Ki Yeom cocks her head, a disbelieved smirk ripping apart her lips and preparing to retort again, but Ji Yeon interrupts her. "If you think I'm perfect, then I guess to some extent, I am. I don't wish to look imperfect. That's just how I am. I grew up believing that perfection is just a concept, subject to individual perspective."

"Shut the fuck up. You're telling me you had this ideology at what, the ages of six to ten?"

"From the ages six to ten, perfection was not a concept I understood."

Ki Yeom stops.

"From the ages six to ten, I was just learning. God forbid anybody who thought that a kid who just wanted to learn was imperfect. You are angry at my lack of response to the things that happen out of my control. I see it as a waste of time if I respond angrily. What good does it do?"

The anger seems to seep back in again. The irony is, Ki Yeom understood her. Word for word, from her perspective. But the more she spoke, the more perfect she seemed, as if she couldn't be more perfect. What kind of politically correct, woke response was that?

"I know what you're thinking. You're thinking why I'm still acting like I'm perfect. If it's of any comfort, I don't think I am, but you seem to think that I am. And yet, the fact that me being perfect is imperfect to you is a point in itself. Perfection gets on your nerves and imperfection gets on others'. There's no winning."

Ki Yeom sucks in a deep breath, toes curling in her shoes as she buries her face in her hands. She can taste the sour ball in the back of her throat as her nose starts to sniffle with her breaths. There's a muffled second, only able to hear the music playing in the back, then there's an overwhelming grief of loss as the gravity of the truth slowly sets in.

"I'm not here to talk about whether I was perfect and how it bothered you. I wanted to know... how you've been. Clearly, the things I did as you went through that rough patch in your life was not the best sequence of actions from your point of view but it was from mine. I hope you know that even though what I did wasn't of help, but it was still what I thought was best."

There's a pause as the waitress comes by with the coffees. The ceramic clanks onto the table.

In theory, Ki Yeom knows she's right. Ji Yeon is always right. Everything she did, she did with her best interest at heart. She was broke, so Ji Yeon offered to pay. She was kicked out, so Ji Yeon wanted to look for her.

Maybe that's the part Ki Yeom couldn't swallow. Even when she was the victim, she was still the bad guy, not the fallen hero who had a redemption arc.

"I wish we weren't ever best friends," Ki Yeom's voice is hoarse and exhausted. "Because then we wouldn't need to go through this."

"The good friendships are tested to their limits. That's how a bond is formed."

"No. Our bond was gone a long time ago and we are both just here to reconcile with it, and bury it."

There's a special type of grief that comes when you're actively aware when an era or a period of fond memories come to an end - like a holiday.

Or a friendship.

Said grief feels slow, almost insignificant. Like you don't notice it because it's been gone for so long.

There isn't much to say about how it feels. Except that it creeps up on you, no matter how many times you are able to rationalise the feelings to yourself. You could tell yourself the story a hundred times in the mirror and still be unable to swallow that the friendship had turned sour, no matter the exact reason.

And that sucks.

Ki Yeom was too exhausted to feel the sadness and the grief of it all on the way home. She couldn't even cry.

So when she spots Heeseung sitting by the bench outside the apartment building and eating an ice cream, the setting, evening sun casting a mandarin shade on him. She wonders for a moment if he was here for her.

She pauses at the traffic junction, tilting her head as she waited for him to take notice of her waiting for the lights to change. Then he looks up and around, and spots her across the road. Ki Yeom wants to smile, but it doesn't come out.

Then her heart stops, when Heeseung seemed worried. She doesn't know why she had expected him to smile and stand and wave to her, but he doesn't.

The traffic light turns, the incessant beeping somehow making its way past her headphones and into her eardrums, that quite literally explode in them when she gets them off.

"Hey," Heeseung greets first, licking the corner of his lips. "Look, there's something that I think you should know before you go into the building."

Ki Yeom frowns at him, as if he were the one who just broke her heart into a million pieces. He sucks in a deep breath and purses his lips, puffing up the space between his gum and the inside of his mouth, then exhales through a small 'o'.

"I think your father's here."

And just like that. The day literally could not get any worse.

"What?"

Heeseung parts his lips in a bid to say something, but nothing comes out.

"Why don't we go elsewhere? Until late, and maybe he won't be here anymore."

"How long has he been here?"

"I woke up in your place around lunchtime. 12 plus, one? Went home, washed up and came out for errands around two and he was already here. Asking the guard if you lived here."

How many fucking times must she go through this tormenting process in a day?

"You said you had that coffee date today with your friend. I'm assuming it didn't go well. Let's not stay here."

"You just told me he's been here for five hours. Even if he goes away while we're away, he's gonna come back another day."

"I know that but you're not in the state to have another conversation like that."

"Don't talk to me like you know everything about me."

"Then be my guest and go in there. Have that conversation with your father about the last four years he was absent from your life. Tell him that you're doing well but you got an offer to move overseas and that you just fell out with your best friend."

If her thoughts were a mindless man running on a treadmill, he'd halt so abruptly, he'd fly off.

Heeseung raises a brow when she goes quiet.

The street behind them had significantly picked up in traffic all of a sudden. He assumes it's the evening traffic.

"What, did I just summarise your life? Ever since you moved out?"

Ki Yeom frowns and looks away, eyes welling with tears.

"You are so caught up... in- in thinking about the same few things, that you couldn't see anything outside of it. And now that they have finally come knocking on your doorstep, you hate it. But haven't you been giving it the most attention? Given how much you despise it? Four years! And this is all that you think you life amounts to? Topping sales, an offer overseas, a falling out with your best friend?"

She turns and shoves him back on the shoulder, the tears finally billowing over her lower lids. "You think it's so easy to let go? You think I don't wake up wishing that things were different? Maybe if I were a better person and I weren't such a bitch, I'd be a better friend and a better daughter."

Heeseung parts his lips in disbelief, hands ruffling through his hair as he combs through his locks with his fingers. "You don't get it. These are all but mistakes in life, personalities and perspectives that don't align. You've had four years to learn from them, accept them and forget about them before you move on. But you have been your own prisoner."

"Ki Yeom?"

Heeseung gently shuts his eyes when he can hear the fragile voice coming from behind him. His arms drop to his side as he opens his eyes again, watching through her eyes as her inner world crumble even more. He already made her cry, now someone else is here to finish the job.

"Who is this?" The footsteps are anxious as he comes from behind Heeseung, who turns around and meekly greets the elder. "Is he bothering you? Who is he?"

Ki Yeom is speechless, but she can't ignore how different he looks.

She counts the wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. His hands are naturally trembling abit more as he points to Heeseung, and he seemed to have a little limp when he walks.

"Ki Yeom, is he bothering yo-"

"Don't."

There's a look of hurt that's somewhat expectant on his face when he knows her response is to him, and not to answer the question.

"Who gave you my address?"

Her father looks down at his feet, slightly ashamed.

"I begged your grandfather for it. I'm sorry. He told me he can't give it to me but I just... kept asking. When he gave it to me, he told me that I could only come look for you in secret, and not reach out. But- but how could I? I mean... it's been-"

"Don't."

Ki Yeom has both palms lifted in the air and facing him in a bid to tell him to shut up. Eyes closed, she blinks the tears that are hindering her vision.

"I'm..." Heeseung's voice croaks. "Going to go-"

"No," Ki Yeom glares at him. "You." She points at him. "Don't move an inch. And you." She turns back to her father. "You have three minutes to say what you have to say because I have nothing to say to you. And regardless of whatever it is you're about to say, I have nothing to say back. I just hope that making this trip and getting it off your chest is enough for you because that's all you're going to get."

Heeseung's brows are slightly furrowed as he side-eyes her father, trying to read his expression from his peripheral vision. The elder man is taken aback, in a 'hurt' type of way that he knows there's nothing he can do to redeem himself.

"I just wanted to know if you're doing well, and if you're safe. If your workplace has been kind to you and whether you need any additional financial help, because I brought some for you," He ransacks his waist pouch for a smaller one, holds it out. Ki Yeom doesn't move an inch, eyes fixated on his. "I wanted to apologise. For the way things happened. I know I can't turn back time and undo what happened but I want to apologise on behalf of your mother and I want to say that she only did what she thought was right-"

"No, she did what she thought was right for herself! If she had any idea what was right for our family, don't you think she would've taken grandpa's help?! But no, being faithful to your religion was enough, wasn't it? That was what would put food on our table, fill our wallets up with money and light up our rooms, right? Right?"

They had been standing there long enough for people to start noticing them, and for the sun to set enough for the street lamps to flicker on.

"And don't you dare think for a moment that this isn't your fault. I don't blame you for losing your job, but I blame you for not being a better father. Not being around to make sure mom didn't do what she did. I know you were out trying to make ends meet but in the midst of all that, you had completely forgotten that I existed. I as in your daughter who just needed a parent."

If Heeseung were watching a soap opera, he'd be on the edge of his seat, eyes widened and fingers holding some chips, but no. This was happening in real time right before his eyes, and he hasn't got a clue what to do (since he knows better than to say something).

He can see the tears drying up her eyes all over again, as if her swollen eyes from the night before had properly recovered. And her father, the indescribable look in his eyes as he tears up as well. Head hung low and fingers anxiously picking at the corners of the cash stack.

The inevitable uncomfortable silence between them sets in, amidst all the noise that was happening around them.

Ki Yeom knows that an apology will not suffice. Nothing ever will. The damage had been done and even if she did take the cash, it will not make a difference.

"Are you done?"

Her father looks up from the floor.

"If you are, please leave."

"Ki Yeom..."

"Now."

A motorbike races past.

"And I never want to see you again."

Heeseung glances at Ki Yeom, and back at her father. His shoulders are sunken. He knows he's defeated. But still, he lifts his hands and tries to offer her the money.

Ki Yeom reaches up to her face to wipe the tears, clearing her throat as she steps back.

"You'll need it when you retire."

Then, she gently grabs Heeseung by the wrist and pulls him along, past her father and away from the apartment building. Heeseung lets her drag him down the pavement, earning strange glances from corporate passerbys who were making their way home from work and whatnot.

But until he was sure they were definitely out of sight of her father, Heeseung holds his weight down, hand reaching out to her forearm.

"Ki Yeom," He says, loud enough for her to hear. But she doesn't respond, ignoring his touch and his call, and continues dragging him with more force.

"Ki Yeom, please."

He finally puts in enough strength to halt her, and so she jerks to an abrupt stop when it's his turn to grab her arm. Her eyes are swelled up again, mucus running down her philtrum and between her lips when she turns around to face him. He can tell she's trying her best not to take a deep breath, for it would trigger one of those hard-to-breathe sniffles and she would collapse into a sobbing mess.

Heeseung doesn't know why, or much rather, how, he has grown to see her. Perhaps, for the first time in a long time, she's the first person that he's known abit more than surface level. Maybe it was because she knew nothing about him, other than the things he has chosen to share, and that made it easier to trust her.

Who said a stranger you meet at a laundromat would stay a stranger?

He awkwardly, but slowly, closes the gap between them, gently releasing her arm. He's careful, trying to read her body language as she stays almost completely still. Then, he can feel the bones in her shoulders under his arms, and she remains so still for a few seconds, he was still unsure.

But like hugging a vase that was haphazardly pieced together with glue without enough time, care and concern, Ki Yeom shatters. He closes his eyes, trying not to cry himself, as her entire frame softens, shoulders shivering with each sob and sniffle.

She doesn't hug him back, but she presses her face into his shoulder so hard that he can feel her tears soaking through his shirt and onto his skin.

"I- I wish it didn't happen- like this."

"I know."

"I- I know he meant- meant well. But- I- just-"

"I know."

The conversation was short-lived.

Sometimes, there aren't enough words to explain a feeling; a feeling of resolution, even if it feels like it's the worst decision you could make.

Perhaps, trying to find the words defeats its purpose.

After Ki Yeom had finished crying, mostly because she regained enough social awareness to realise how embarrassing it was to be hugging in the middle of the street, the duo had found themselves sitting by the pavement, feet on the street as bicycles and cars drove by.

The ice cream was melting quickly, so Ki Yeom fought the urge to close her eyes and finish it. Heeseung tosses the last of the cone into his mouth, swiping his hands against each other to get rid of the remaining crumbs.

He sighs, leaning back with his palms on the concrete by his hips, eyes looking up at the cloudy sky that was partially blocking the moon. There was that dewy scent of rain wafting through the sky, so he looks around somemore, hoping to catch a glimpse of lightning somewhere.

Ki Yeom quite literally shoves the rest of the lemon coating into her mouth, knowing that if she ate any slower, it would start running down the stick and over her hands. She wraps the stick in the wrapper the ice cream came in, and folds it nicely.

She looks ahead, then around, trying to find what Heeseung was looking at previously. Pulling in her knees to her chest, she wraps her arms around her thighs, fingers picking at the dry skin on her elbows.

"You know, what you said to me just now before he showed up... It made sense."

Heeseung takes awhile to turn his head back to her, processing her words before he tilts his head in her direction. His eyes remain looking forward, at the street and the lamp post on the other side.

"I've had so many conversations with myself. Running around in circles and trying to persuade myself that it was time to move on and that I didn't care. But I knew deep down that I needed closure, even if it meant a messy one that I didn't want. I knew I was angry with Ji Yeon and I knew it wasn't her fault. I knew my father did what he thought was best at the time it happened. But I just couldn't forgive them for the things they did."

Heeseung finally turns to her. He pulls his legs into a cross and picks at the threads in his ripped jeans.

"Just because you can understand why they did those things doesn't mean you have to forgive them. I think if that were the case, mankind wouldn't be so complex. We'd all just be aiming to be understanding, and by that condition, we'd be a peaceful society. But we're not, and... I mean, things happen."

Ki Yeom starts to smell the rain as her clogged nose clears up completely.

"When I went through my own difficult times, I'd tell myself that I'm just an anime character that had to go through these stupid arcs to get the character development. Else, I'd just be the lame side character that everybody forgets about."

A little smile cracks through her lips as she looks down into her lap, staring blankly at the cotton stitching on her pants.

"It's not common that a character has to go through two arcs in so little time, but it happens. Usually they're the badass ones that everybody roots for, even if they're morally questionable."

Then the drizzle starts, gentle and kind, like little snowflakes falling from the sky. Like they were trying to wash away her sadness and grief.

"I think I'll stay here for awhile."

Heeseung turns to look at her, face turned up to look at the sky. The droplets land on her skin, and for a moment, it seemed like the sky was doing the rest of the crying for her.

"Are you planning on staying until you're soaked?"

She hums in response. "Maybe."

He turns to look at the sky too, closing his eyes as he let the water run down his face and neck.

"By the way, do you do your laundry on Wednesdays? Because I just remembered it's a Wednesday."

[transfenris-truther]

Thanks for the tag last week @blarrghe . As requested, here's just a taste of Varania content from the next chapter of No Town More Barren Than Our Town. Tagging @blarrghe right back, @merrybandofmurderers and @tea42 . If I missed anyone, sorry! I'm playing less attention to Tumblr lately!

The shopkeep shook her head, a black strand of hair escaping her neatly tied back hairstyle, “In the back. Where we take the measurements.”  “Show me.” She didn't hesitate, but the atmosphere of fear was all around her. He wondered bitterly what Varania had told her. It was like being Danarius’ bodyguard again. His reputation preceded him.  She led him wordlessly to a door on the back wall, swinging it open on smooth, silent hinges. The room it opened up to was larger than the front shop and divided into sections by rattan and wood screens. Along the back wall was a long wooden table fitted with dozens of small drawers. There, illuminated by a ball of steady-glowing magical energy, sat Varania, sewing tiny stitches that disappeared neatly into plush fabric. She turned to look at him, green eyes flashing even larger than usual behind a set of magnifying spectacles. “Change your mind about killing me?” She asked, as if it were the least interesting question in the world.  “Not yet,” he murmured, “Or I wouldn't have come in broad daylight.”

[flyonthewallmedstudent]

Office Space

I've been informed I'll have an office and desk as part of my new job. (I'm also terrified of said new job).

Kmart spree already planned. While sales are on.

Totally inspired by too much Living in small spaces, van life etc on youtube and Pinterest.

Link

Link

Link

Desk adhesive sounds fun

Will probably get the beach swing picture too.

Maybe the artificial peonies.. for a splash of colour.

And a Rattan Tray.

Or bamboo desk organiser.

Tall linen desk organizer also temptin.g