#ricky m

[grimesgirll]

sometimes you loathed sleeping in the middle just for the difficulty getting out of bed. if you were sandwiched between rick and daryl, then you had to peel their arms off - if you could manage to shrug off rick - and scootch to the end of the bed, using your arms even to bring yourself forward without making too much of a commotion.

“where’re you goin’, sweetheart?”

“bathroom.”

you send him a smile and peel his arm off once again to push off the bed and pad over to the en suite.

he’s all over you once you return to the bed and crawl on hands and knees back to your spot. before your head hits the pillow, rick’s hands are on you and wrapping around to lock you into his embrace.

rick needs you to sleep. you’re his soft, pliable paperweight. it’s just something you’ve picked up about the man. being the number one person he wanted in his arms flattered you. however, you weren’t prepared for how often rick took advantage of this access.

you’re choking back sweet moans once his two fingers breach your walls. you want to be shocked at the forwardness but rick knows you too well. instead, you’re grinding your hips back into him.

“you’re getting me all flustered again,” you mumble.

rick picks up the pace. “what? you don’t wanna cum all over my fingers before you go to bed?”

you nearly double into daryl hearing the sheriff’s words. “yes!”

“man, you’re keepin’ her up.”

rick clicks his tongue. “i don’t see her complainin’.”

you want to chime in with some smart comment but you’re too busy getting rick’s thick fingers jammed up your pussy.

“i don’t think you’ll be complainin soon enough.” rick remarks playfully to the other man. he lowers his lips to your ear. “wanna help us all sleep better, sweetheart?”

you shake your head sure.

next thing you know you’re on your hands and knees facing daryl. a hand in your hair guides you to his clothed cock.

“why don’t you show daryl how much you like us keepin’ you up?”

daryl sends you a look like he feels guilty that you’re freeing his pants instead of soundly sleeping but any remorse is gone once you flick your tongue against the side of his shaft.

rick lining himself up and subsequently knocking the wind out of you with a rocky thrust drives you right down daryl’s dick. you gag and daryl nearly jumps out of bed at the sudden feeling.

you feel like you’re being split open with rick ramming into you from behind. every thrust bounces you further up and down daryl’s cock. his hands find your braids. you braided your hair at night to lock in moisture not that rick didn’t love tugging on them so hard they unraveled.

stuffed to the hilt with cock, you’re finding it hard to think about anything else than the men pistoning you between them. all to sleep better. god knows they needed it though. the weight atlas had on his shoulders was nothing compared to what rick and daryl were saddled with.

at the very least, you could offer your ever accommodating pussy. it wouldn’t solve all of their problems but you could help.

and when they take such good care of you, how can you refuse?

circling back to your pleasure, rick reaches down to linger a finger or two strategically against your clit. you know it won’t be long for you once he maintains the same excruciating pace he liked to subject you to in order to get you coming twice on his cock; once to get started and once to finish him off.

after that, daryl would cum down your throat and bring you in for a heated kiss, nearly forcing you back into rick- still inside of you. eventually, rick’s pulling out to grab a soft towel to clean you off with while daryl lifts your hips for you so you can focus on his tongue between your teeth.

rick will bring over your favorite oversized sweatshirt of his to drown in. then you’ll be back, hugged to his chest.

daryl eventually rolls closer so you can lay your head on his chest. the position may require some reconfiguring as the night goes on but they’ll probably just shift you in your sleep so you don’t worry about it.

it won’t be long again until you’re waking up feeling needy or they are or you’re met with something hard beside you.

and this is why you love sleeping in the middle.

[ashleyslorens]

TAROT CARDS ✴ MOULIN ROUGE! THE MUSICAL

[tabooiart]

down on your luck, that’s how life goes

when life gives me rain, i make rainbows

[kimtaeraes]

zb1′s official leader, sung hanbin!

[icewons]

HATEFUL MELODIES … park wonbin smau

on hold until im out of writers block… 😭🙏🏻

synopsis !! top 1 & top 2 band rivals. yn and wonbin’s bands are known for being the best in the school, every event they are competing and being compared. what could happen when the school makes them both pair up for the biggest event of the year?

genre !! smau + written. lead guitarist! wonbin x keyboardist! yn. ( m!reader ) college au, enemies to lovers, crack & romance.

warnings !! kind of bad humor, swearing, kys/kms jokes, homophobia (possibly), boy x boy fic.

features !! yn as charon-1120. beomgyu (txt), keeho (p1h), jay (enha), ricky (zb1), sunghoon (enha), other riize members, & possibly more idols to come.

profiles.

the phantasy boys | riize up | trios

chapters.

001. did u knock him out

002. its burning

003. ok mr professional

004. who? ur ego? | smau + written.

005. im coming home!

006.

007.

008.

taglist !! ask or reply to be added.

a/n : kind of proof read, first tumblr fic so be nice pls. again, this is MALE reader x wonbin, so for the queer community. idm if fem readers also enjoy this, but dont be weird. <3 any questions or reqs pls ask !!

[cursed-rat-of-homosexuality]

You know, I was here, happy, chilling even, minding my own business, but then OFMD Twitter released this new promo clip.

I looked around a bit and...

THE GIRLS ARE BACK :D !!! THEY ARE ALL TEAMING UP!!!

[kaphkas]

If it’s bad, don’t come back. I want to remember you all as you were.

[ricky-olson]

#no, followers, i will never be over this look.

[nobigneil]

Harchester United, 2003

[winxys]

he had one job (trans.)

[w-248]

🕯️ (if you're still accepting them)

[grimesgirll]

it’s rare that rick is home with you in the middle of the day. 

typically, the group leader was off on a run, an errand, or dealing with the duties that came with being constable. but not today! today he was home. you’d even woken up to him beside you, a rarity.

you’d woken up with his taut arms wrapped around you and a nose nuzzled into your neck. the urge to stay overwhelms you but you’ve got to put together some breakfast. you’re slipping out of bed when you feel two arms drawing you back.

“where are you goin’? i thought we were sleeping in today.”

“you never sleep in.” you reminded him.

“except for’ today.” he exhaled into your hair, reaching a hand up to play with one of your french braids. “morning, silly girl,” he greeted, traveling his hand up to cup one of your breasts.

you gasped, breathing deeply as he increases the pressure. “doesn’t seem like you wanna sleep.”

“nope.” the sheriff answered, popping the p. 

god, you wished he could be home every morning to have you squirming. he plunged a sticky finger into you. “another one, please.”

“since you asked so nicely.”

you shuddered at the second addition. grinding back against him, he continued his peace signed shape ministration inside of you. 

“and since you’re gripping me so tight, why not another one?”

“ah!”

“that’s it.”

“mhmmm,” you droned into the pillow.

“feelin’ okay, silly girl?”

“so good, daddy!”

 you didn’t have to see his smirk. you just feel the absence of his fingers. your hips shift in anticipation.

“want me to fuck you nice and dumb on my cock early this morning, baby?” rick questioned with a cocky, sleepy grin. “want me to stuff you, silly girl?” 

your head was bobbing yes immediately and that’s all he needed to pull down his boxers and drive right into you. 

it doesn’t matter if you had a degree in molecular biology or rocket science before all this, you’re still rick’s silly girl. 

his lovely little housewife - the one waiting at home to get fucked to the moon and back on his cock. the same cock that had made your eyes widen when you first saw it. 

you’d never mention it to rick but shane had to really be something for lori fuck everything up with rick over him. yeah, lori thought rick was dead but everything afterwards? you would’ve been head over heels overjoyed to see your man again. 

that’s how you’d felt every time rick came back from a risky run. it was scary to imagine a time when he may not come home. you chose to put it out of your mind and enjoy the organ restructuring dick inside of you.

its owner couldn’t hold himself back from slamming into you on your side. there was never anything more relaxing for rick than being balls deep inside of you - well, maybe being down your throat. 

“my silly girl,” he breathed into your hair. 

it took you two a while to make it to the kitchen. it took even longer to make breakfast after you learned that carl had taken judith over to eugene’s to look into a telescope. 

with the house empty, rick gets to devote an hour to his favorite past time: fucking you against the counter. 

you and rick had stumbled downstairs in your pajamas but they’re scattered on the floor now. you lovers are too enthralled in grinding your bodies as close to each other as possible. rick is on a mission to shove his massive cock as deep inside of your tight cunt as possible. of course, it’s tight fit and a delicate dance of not blowing out your cervix.

the early shocks of your fourth orgasm of the day - second against the counter - make themselves known in a way you can’t ignore.

“you’re hitting all the right spots, rick,” you croon, gazing back at him all fucked out.

you feel him twitch inside of you. he can’t help but lose his mind seeing you so needy beneath him at this time of day. god, he needs to be home more.

“anything for you, pretty girl. you like this?” he lays a firm two fingers on top of your clit.

“mhmmm,” you confirm with a nod. 

your leader takes your murmurings as a go ahead to adopt an intense rhythm; his shaft delivering rapid fire contact with your spongy feel good parts inside while his hand strategically cups your clit. 

his solid length saws into you without any regard for your sensitive pussy. the dull pain pairs well with the pleasure as your clit is lavished in attention and your insides feel like they’re about to come apart around the thick ridges of rick. feeling him bare inside of you equates to pure bliss. 

because just like your cookie dough, you like it raw. 

“can’t wait!” you strain.

ugh, he’s gonna have you exploding again. you’re going to be blacking out for a split second and going soft brained. rick doesn’t need to pound into you to send you to a cloud higher than nine. it’s like you’re not even in the room - not even on earth.

last time rick had fucked one of those mind numbing, leg shaking orgasms out of you. he didn’t even stop for the smoke detector or the smell of torched green beans. he’d seared kisses up your neck from behind and without the will to hold out, he’d snuck you away from your task at hand - a green bean casserole - and instead fucked you silly next to the shoe rack.

he only broke the habit of fucking you through the smoke detector when carol told him off and he realized it was a waste of food. 

you’d both been embarrassed at carol walking into the kitchen to rescue your burnt casserole and discover you and rick disheveled coming out of the mud room. 

after a long day of bullshit, rick wants nothing more than to come home to the beautiful home you’ve made for them. to spend quality time in the home and spend himself in you; always earning a couple of releases from you in the process. 

“can’t wait!” you whimper.

“so you want two?”

you nod. you love when rick gives you back to back pleasure. he’s like the best at it. that is when daryl’s not bullying his way between your legs. 

speak of the devil, daryl’s trudging into the kitchen. figures. you and rick must’ve been so into it that you didn’t hear the mud room door. actually, that’s a lie. rick probably heard the door and just banked on you being too wrapped up in cumming around him like you are now to notice.

the archer is treated to the perfect display of your pulsing pussy as you gush all over the counter. he whistles as some of your slick dribbles down the cabinet drawers. 

“shouldn’t have expected anything else on rick’s day off.” he quips.

the brunette sex god playing chicken with your cervix just snorts, not stopping or slowing down the convergence of his hips and yours for anything. “shouldn’t be draggin’ mud through here.” he advises through gritted teeth.

“daryl,” you pant, overwhelmed by both the aftershocks of your climax and the prospect of mud on your floors.

“sorry, wasn’t very nice and clean in norfolk. but hey, we came here and back with fuel and MREs all before noon, so i wouldn’t be too disappointed.”

“i’m gonna make her cum four times before noon.” rick declares, hammering more frantically into you. 

“rick, slow down,” you pant again. 

“you good, honey?” rick checks in, stilling his thrusts to wait for your reply.

“rosita’s class really took it out of me yesterday. all the muscles are sore,” you complain, eyes watering a bit from your orgasm and the mild throbbing pain in your tightened muscles. 

“poor baby’s feelin’ sore?”

daryl confirms with a nod. “she’s not breathing and stretching like you should when she’s lifting.”

rick gives you a disappointed look. “maybe you’ll take a break from your weight lifting classes. huh, honey?”

you groan and pout.

“then you two need to help me practice kegels.”

“we’ll start now,” the sheriff instructs you. his hands couldn’t be cemented further into the curves of your hips. 

with daryl watching from across the counter, you do your best to remember the motions of a kegel. you squeeze. it feels like you’re doing so randomly but rick is bucking his hips again. as long as he’s not correcting you, it’s good enough. not like he’ll last long anyways. 

you’re irresistible to him, all hot and bleary eyed. 

like the time he fucked you up against a hedge at the community picnic. you two were tucked away in the woods of course but that didn’t make it any less naughty when you sauntered back up the hill and to your picnic blanket with cum inside of you. 

you look just like you did then. hair coming undone from your bedtime braids, tears threatening to fall on the countertop, and your pussy holding on tight and not letting him go. 

you expect to be empty once you’re done spasming around the thick rod inside of you and rick had filled you up completely. the breath is knocked out of your lungs when feel another cock take his place.

“daryl!”

“i know that you can take one more, baby. you love being stuffed one after another.”

“that she does,” rick corroborates.

the constable is in your view so now you can relish in the sight of him finding his clothes while daryl tries to do you in once and for good.

“fuck, dare’!” you wince as he pile drives into you from behind.

“sorry, baby,” he apologizes into the crook of your neck, lowering down and crushing you further into the counter. “just missed you out there. i never find anything as perfect as you.”

“mhmmm,” you babble and squeak in time with his thrusts.

“you really needed the pounding today? huh, hon’?” 

you nod your head the best you can for rick.

“almost there, fucking pretty little bitch.”

daryl feels your reaction on his cock as you shudder around him.

“you like being called a pretty little bitch?”

“maybe,” you stutter.

the auburn haired man fucking rick’s cum into you chuckles. “yeah, i feel how much you like it grippin’ me up so tight.”

“her pussy’s got a killer grip.” rick agreed.

“you ‘bout ready to cum all over this cock? you wanna cum? pretty little thing.” daryl huffs with each thrust.

“yes!” you cry out, tensing around his cock. “please, dare’!”

“silly girl’s gonna make a mess of your cock,” observes the peanut gallery.

“whenever you’re ready, pretty girl,” daryl whispers in your ear.

truth be told, just the heat from his breath on your air had your overworked cunt going off like a sparkler around him.

“daryl, daryl, daryl!” you chant.

the panic in your voice is that of someone falling off a cliff but you’re just nosediving into your orgasm with your boyfriend spearing you on his cock.

the shuddering turns into small aftershocks and your legs eventually still as you bask in the post-orgasmic bliss you’re experiencing of the fifth time today. rick gives you a condescending smirk when he realizes the exact moment daryl’s cum trickles into you. you can’t hide how satisfied you are being so warm and full.

the man withdrawing from your spent pussy points to rick’s snack.

“what’s that?” daryl inquires, referring to the jerky rick is chowing on.

“oh, that’s the jerky i made!” you chirp, peeling yourself off of the countertop. “i’m getting pretty good at jerky. wanna try some? carol’s teaching me how.”

“why not?”

you pull a piece from the ziplock bag that rick holds out for you and gingerly pop it into daryl’s mouth. 

“what do you think?”

he shrugs. “i’d share it with dog - not entirely though.”

you slap his shoulder playfully. “i’m still a beginner. it’ll get better.”

“i think it’s great, sweetheart.” rick compliments, manhandling you to his side of the counter and help you step into your newly discovered sleep shorts.

then you’re being pulled into his lap despite your protests. “rick! i have to make breakfast!” you already had explained to them countless times before why you couldn’t cook topless.

rick and daryl share a look and a snicker before rick is locking you in his seated embrace and daryl is grabbing a carton of eggs from the fridge.

“i got it, princess,” daryl hums. “you just take care of rick.”

“i wanted to make breakfast for you on your day off!” you complain, giving rick another pout.

he shakes his head at you. “you know where i want you on my day off, hon’? right here.” to solidify the point, he drags you down onto him, clutching a breast and attacking your neck with his lips.

“already?” you’re asking, punctuating the question with a ragged breath.

“oh, i can go all day today, sweetheart.”

[starr-lvst]

❀ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

| PROLOGUE | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | …

Pairing: Shen Ricky x Kim Gyuvin (shimkongz) M/M Synopsis: Rich Boy! Ricky’s mother gives him three months to find a suitable fiancé, or else she’ll marry him off to someone of her choosing, and Ricky just so happens upon the love of his life - Barista! Kim Gyuvin - in the most average and unassuming little coffee shop he’d ever seen. Warnings: this part contains no smut, but future parts will. Because of this MDNI. Words: 1925. Genre: Arranged marriage AU , mostly fluff , eventual smut. Fandom: Zerobaseone / Zerose

AUTHORS NOTE: To preface, this story is far from a masterpiece. It’s purely an outlet to spill some of my little Shimkongz head-thoughts, because they are truly adorable. - If you’re here for filth smut, then please be patient. It’ll come in due time, don’t you worry, but this is a slow burn so buckle up.

AO3 LINK

If Ricky were to ever confide in someone as to how unsatisfied and unhappy he felt with his life, he was certain they’d laugh in his face.

Ricky… the kind, intelligent, handsome and talented Shen Ricky? 

Ricky, who never had a single hair out of place, always knew exactly what to say in any situation, and could have anything he could ever wish for with little more than a smile? 

If he of all people were to say anything of his growing stress and unhappiness, he’d be shot down in a heartbeat. Told he was ungrateful, spoiled and ignorant.

But no. If only they could see behind the veil of perfection that followed him wherever he went. 

Ricky wasn’t the flawless man he seemed to be. Whilst- yes, he was blessed as some would say- he was barely keeping himself afloat amidst the expectations and pressure that society was constantly bearing down upon him. 

And this could not be more apparent to him as in that moment, perched on the edge of one of his mother’s many expensive couches, all but fighting for his right to freedom.

Now, this may seem melodramatic as an opening statement, but the context of the situation provides for little more that can be truthly said besides this accurate, whilst seemingly exaggeratory, explanation.

Ricky’s mother had been on his back relentlessly for the past few months about her wish to marry him off. Constantly trying to set him up on dates, introducing him to countless “eligible” partners, never giving him a chance to breathe.

The poor boy couldn’t even engage in the most mundane of conversations with her without his mother subtly dropping comments of endorsement regarding countless women he had never even met, let alone felt romantically inclined towards.

Afterall, what good is it attempting to get him to establish a romantic relationship between himself and someone who knew nothing about him. And, no. His family’s wealth was not a factor of awareness that could be attributed towards knowing him.

Ricky had never felt even slightly inclined to pursue intimate relationships with anyone he’d met in his lifetime thus far, the closest he’d ever come to that would be his very occasional hook-ups… but those couldn’t be considered as anything more than “no strings attached” encounters with no purpose besides fulfilling his own sexual needs, and he took no price in them whatsoever.

But that’s not to say that he had never felt that unmistakable tug on his heart whenever he settled down to watch one of his favourite romance dramas… no. Not at all.

He’d be lying if he tried to imply that he didn’t often like to entertain the thought of finding someone to call his own, but the simple fact in his life that he’d more than come to terms with waa that the right person for him did not exist- or at least not within the bubble of wealth and class that his status constrained him to exist within.

The people Ricky met were always predictable- their attempts to get close to him being pathetically obvious in that they were driven by little more than the contents of his bank account.

Not once had anyone who was supposedly “interested” in Ricky ever done as much as ask him about his favourite food.

And, whilst a wish to be inquired about something as trivial as his favourite food may seem pathetic and pitiful, you’d be shocked by how much weight that sort of question holds after becoming so used to answering nothing but shallow-rooted small talk.

So, sure. Those people may very well be “interested” , but were they interested in the beautifully small things that made Ricky the man he was? The strawberries that made him smile in bliss when their juice filled his mouth? His hobbies? His anything? 

No. 

They were never truly interested in Ricky, but in whatever bells and whistles came with his name.

These are exactly the sorts of reasons that he’s been trying in vain to get his mother to understand.

It just seemed that no amount of refuting her endless harassment could make her understand just how unhappy Ricky would become if he agreed to sell himself away in a marriage.

“Mā, will you please just listen to me for once?” Fingers grasped harshly in his hair, body stiff and teeth gritted- Ricky figured that one last push couldn’t hurt when he was already crushed at rock-bottom.

Clearly, his raised and frustrated tone was enough to cause what he could only hope was a flash of softening across his mother’s gaze from where she sat comfortably within the plush upholstery of a crème chaise-lounge, and he cautiously took it as a sign to continue. “What will it take to get you to understand that this isn’t what I want? You know I care about our family, but you also fully well know that I can keep us together just fine without marrying. All that getting engaged would do is make me depressed and you know it.” It took all his strength to maintain an ounce of respect as he directed his words in her direction, but truly his patience was running out; in that moment, there was nothing Ricky wanted more than to get up and leave, drive away and never return.

“Quanrui … you know this ideal is bigger than you, right?” His mother spoke with far too much softness for what she was implying- far too affectionate of a smile on her face to be suggesting that Ricky had no say in the course of his own life. “It’s not just your life that this matter regards, but mine, too… your little sister’s. You know that we don’t possess the same talent for business that you do, and our family unit is far too small to rely solely on you to keep food on the table. Your sister is too young, and I’m too old. If you choose to put us at risk by not engaging with someone who may not only be your life partner, but your business partner… my dear, Quanrui. I don’t know how we’d cope.”

Deep down, Ricky knew that his mother’s reproach was nothing less than an underhanded attempt at manipulating him; their fortune was far from enough to keep them afloat even if Ricky stopped working all together, and his mother’s fashion line was so stable that the income it brought in couldn’t be disrupted even if they tried… but the mention of his younger sister cut deep.

He would do anything to ensure that her smile would never fade, anything to look after her, to keep her happy. In the society of duplicitous and two-faced sociopaths that Ricky had grown up in, his younger sister served as one of very few reminders that there is still hope for the world. She was sunshine and innocence incarnate, always seeing the best in people… and Ricky would rather die than see her suffer.

But even the reminder of his sister couldn’t quench Ricky’s growing anger entirely. 

Who had given his mother the right to control his life like this? Did she not care for his well being one bit?

The thought was infuriating, but he knew there was no room for altercation when it came to his mother; she was far more likely to physically drag him into the marriage office than be convinced to leave him be. 

Which left him three options:

-One, illegally leave the country and forge a fake identity.

-Two, give in and just get married to one of the women on his mother’s very long list of eligible bachelorettes.

-Three ( and he’d felt as if a lightbulb had lit up above his head when he thought of this one), engage in an ultimatum.

“Mā, I understand. But… please. Just give me some time. I’ll find a fiancé by myself. Just.. if this is going to happen, I at least want it to feel natural.” He put on his meekest, most respectful voice and subtly batted his eyes- just praying that she’d at least agree to this.

It felt like the best compromise for this situation; he’d try as hard as possible to find someone that he actually felt comfortable with, someone who saw him for who he was, and if that meant just making a friend who was willing to get married to him for the sake of the situation, then so be it.

But deep down … Ricky also found himself hoping that maybe this would be his chance to find someone genuine. Maybe if he socialised in settings that weren’t high-class-exclusive, then he could find someone who could truly care for him, and that he could truly care for too.

The wait for a response from Ricky’s mother felt impossibly long. 

It seemed that every time she’d appeared to be about to say something, she’d immediately shut her mouth. 

But eventually, with Ricky having put on his best “I’m about to cry, but it’s your choice” face (reserved for desperate measures), it seemed that her resolve had begun to crack.

“Alright,” she caved, “I’ll give you three months. But if you haven’t found someone eligible by then, I’ll be arranging it for you.”

Ricky felt an overwhelming wave of relief wash over him and all but jumped out of his seat to place a chaste kiss on top of his mother’s head.

“Thank you, Mā.”

Sure, three months to find the person he’d be spending the entirety of his remaining days on earth with was far from ideal, but it was easily the best outcome possible.

Ricky could only hope that the person he’d find would be different from everyone else.

He turned to leave his mother’s living room, intent on getting a head start on his new “mission to find love” (as one may say), when said woman called out to him with fake innocence, “But, Quanrui. Your fiancé… I have some requirements for who they can be.” 

Ricky stilled his step, what was she planning?

“First, they have to be a potential business partner; they need to have a steady income. That’s not too hard- right, Quanrui? But second…

She must be a woman.”

His heart sunk, that bitch.

“I don’t know what goes on inside that head of yours, but I’m not even close to oblivious enough to be ignorant of the way you look at men. We can’t have you ruining our family’s reputation, now can we?”

To be fair, Ricky probably should’ve expected that. But he couldn’t fight the way his blood boiled as the words left her lips.

How childish was she??

He figured it was probably safer to just walk out at that, and that he did.

So what if his future fiancé was a man? Considering the nature of the agreement, the first requirement seemed understandable. But for her to tell him he couldn’t be with someone of his preferred sex?? That was a line that she did not have the right to cross, and one of the many things that Ricky had been hoping to avoid when he established the deal.

What era was she living in, anyway?

So, angrily clutching his wheel as he drove back home to his apartment building, Ricky swore then and there that he’d prove her wrong.

He’d find someone who was not only a good marriage partner in his mother's eyes, but someone who also made him happy- and if that meant breaking his mother’s second requirement, then so be it.

———————————————————

| PROLOGUE | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | …

@yuqisbackupdancer @moonlightndaydreams

[preciouspiastri]

logan fully mispronouncing daniel's last name is killing me

[kimtaeraes]

RICKY Oze Live (230501)

[monstersxxorxxmen]

"It's Ricky," he finally took pity on his hookup from the night before who was clearly having a hard time remembering his name. He searched for his shirt before giving a shout of victory at finding his it. "Don't worry I'm not offended.... I had fun though? Maybe we could do this again some time?"

Open to M/F/NB