#reflection: ricky

[heroesspirit]

POV your little brother figure wants a bug so you use your splitting ability to grab it for him.

Second page was made by @ryssbelle!

[zushwood]

[pinkravat-art]

i love it when comedians make media that is not strictly A Comedy. music, dramas, podcasts, whatever. they have such a way with words and the comedy bleeds into whatever they make. It's my favourite thing ever.

please gimme your faves, i want to know more writers like this

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Full Tech Day One pic today from kiko laureano (denizen of skid row / ensemble) & video (that's four seconds of "ya never know" playing over the static image) from & ft. marcia milgrom dodge (director / choreographer) double captioning "there might be puppets in this musical ;)" & "Well Shake my hand! Come see LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS @guthrietheater featuring @actually_will_roland's hand!"

[diamondcitydarlin]

I'm gonna go a step farther with this and posit (as I'm pretty sure I saw one other person do as well- shout out to you) that Ricky didn't actually have to be a villain at all, at least not as much as he was, because with Ned Low appearing and then dying in the span of one ep and not really being a presence in the show at any other point, it just makes me wonder why Ned couldn't have been the 'big bad' (along with Navy) while Ricky could have been more of a morally grey, bumbling idiot self-involved character who changes and learns over the course of the story. Like, that absolutely could have been the direction and the more I think about it, the more frustrated I am that this isn't what happened. Ned was a great villain too! He could've been following them, harassing them, being a threat the whole damn time, even wrapped up in the scheme to consolidate/end piracy for his own gain and working with the English Navy (maybe at some point as a privateer commissioned by the King??), like that could have been a thing that happened and escalated, while Ricky tries to intern as a pirate, acts as kind of a parallel to Stede in fun ways that could be explored, cringefails at everything while Izzy despite himself starts finding him endearing oops, like there are so many possible things that could have been done with both of them and I think it's a shame that none of those opportunities were taken but it's ok that's what fanfic is for ig lmao

[rickie-the-storyteller]

Has anyone noticed that in most stories (whether on TV, movies, book series, etc), the most popular/iconic ships are usually the most toxic?

Either that, or they start out healthy and cute and then become toxic as time goes on lol.

Idk, it's just something I've seen a lot. I'm sure there are a couple of exceptions tho.

[goginaporter]

word for word bar for bar

RICKY & GINA High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (2019-2023)

[p5buecks]

grind on me

paige bueckers x oc

bathroom stall hook up

cw: smut

hi first smut post so i wanted to keep it pretty chill. let me know what you think and you can also send me requests!

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `

When the opening beat to Grind On Me by Pretty Ricky blasted through the club, there was only one person on my mind. My boyfriend; Caleb. This was our unofficial, official song. We met in a similar setting two years ago and as this exact song played, the brunette boy couldn’t take his eyes off me. As I danced and moved my body to the beat, Caleb watched intently before making his move.

I navigated through the crowd of sweaty, swaying bodies, eyes focused on my boyfriend who was stood with a group of his friends. I could feel myself grinning cheesily and there was no doubt, it was vodka induced. My vision had also significantly blurred since the beginning of the night and despite my steps being cautious and careful, I was still knocking into people. Without saying any words, I pressed my body against Calebs. I moved sensually, the way he liked it. My back pressed into his front and I waited for his hands to find my waist as they usually did but the familiar feeling never came. Instead I felt his flat palm press against my back before his voice muttered into my ear, “Chill, Selene.” I was tipsy and payed no mind and further pushed into Calab, ass directly in his crotch as as my hips moved to the beat.

“I said chill.” Calebs voice was deeper and more intense this time and paired with a slight shove, knocking me off balance, I couldn’t ignore him any longer. “What the fuck Caleb?” I spun around, coming face to face with my boyfriend. “You’re drunk and it’s embarrassing.” Calebs scolds, “You’ve never had a problem before.” I rebuttal, frowning while both hands rested on my hips. “Well, I have an image to keep up and people are looking, so chill.” Calebs eyes narrowed and I was taken aback, he never acted like this, I was caught off guard but I wasn’t about to back down. “I don’t give a damn if people are looking!” I flung my arms up in the air for dramatic effect and raised my voice several decibels higher. If people weren’t looking, they definitely are now.

Despite everyones eyes being on us having a domestic dispute in the middle of a busy club, Caleb had no problem reaching out for my face, holding me under my chin and squeezing my jaw, “Chill the fuck out or go home!” His tone was venomous and I sobered up quick before muttering a sharp ‘fine’ and hurrying away with tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

I barged my way to the bathrooms and locked myself in a stall before giving in and letting myself cry. The salty tears made my eyes sting and cheeks wet. I needed to go home.

“Pull yourself together.” I urged myself as I wiped my tear stained face, my makeup was ruined and as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I could only agree with my boyfriend. I was drunk and embarrassing. I was an embarrassment to him. I held my hands underneath the cold running water in a hope to ground myself and closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths, “He’s right.” I whispered.

“He’s a jerk.” A voice other than my own made me realise I was no longer alone in the bathroom and I flicked my eyes open. It took them a minute to adjust to the low lighting but the tall blonde at the door was crystal clear. Whoever she was, she was right. Caleb was a jerk but I wasn’t about to admit that to a total stranger.

I dried my hands, avoiding eye contact, just wanting to leave. “You good?” The blonde spoke again and this time she took a few steps further into the bathroom, closing the space between us. “I’m fine.” My response was short and quick and may have sounded rude, “I’m good. Thank you.” I corrected myself, shooting the girl a tight lipped smile and stepping around her. Our arms brushed each others and I was close enough for her scent to reach me. It was floral and sweet with hints of amber and vanilla. It made me stop in my tracks.

“You not allowed to have fun or sum?” She continued as I reached for the door handle. Everything told me to open the door and walk out. Go home, sober up and apologise profusely to Caleb in the morning but my body betrayed me. I let go of the door handle and turned back around to two artic blue eyes locked on me. Her pupils were dilated ever so slightly and she raised a brow as she awaited my answer.

“I guess not.” Was all I could muster and I leant against the basin. The cold marble cooling my heated skin. “Pretty girl like you should be having all the fun. Want me to go let him know?” Even though there was nothing funny about this situation and I could still taste my salty tears on my lips, I giggled, “It’s good. Don’t want you getting in trouble.” The blonde was now stood in front of me, our height difference glaringly obvious as I looked up at her. “What do you want?” There was a change in her tone, it was lower, more breathy and I suppressed a shiver. “To go home. Forgot about this mess of a night.” I tried my hardest to look away as I spoke, break the eye contact, relieve the tension that was quickly building but I couldn’t. Her hands weren’t on me but this girl had me in a chokehold.

“Forgetting is easy.” She said pushing loose curls off my face causing me to take a sharp intake of breath. Her hands were big but slender and cool against the warmth of my heated skin. “Yeah?” My voice came out croaky but I quickly cleared my throat, it was clear to me what was happening here and maybe I wasn’t thinking straight or maybe I was and just didn’t care but I was as game as she was. “Yeah. But if you need some help, just let me know.”

Two people in one stall was cramped to say the least but with my back pressed up against the wall and the blonde pressed up against me, any thoughts of this being wrong had exited my mind. She was everywhere. Her lips on my lips, then on my jaw, sloppy as they made their way down my neck before nipping at the skin on my chest. “No marks.” I breathed out and I got a chuckled response, “He don’t give a fuck baby.” And her hands that had found home on my hips tightened their grip.

Her knee was nestled perfectly between my legs, pressed firmly against my pulsating cunt and the firmer she pressed, the more I rolled my hips on her.

There were very few words spoken between us before her foot knocked mine apart and she pulled my panties to the side and pushed her fingers inside of me. Her pace was immediately fast and hard and her long fingers had no problem reaching that precise spot that made me gasp out loud. As quick as the sound tumbled from my parted lips, her hand came up to cover my mouth. She didn’t have to say anything for me to know that was a command for me to keep quiet.

She pounded in and out of me with no mercy, her hand having migrated from my mouth to my throat, squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. I was quickly losing control and was unable to stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head. I bit down on lip in an attempt to keep my breathy moans captive in my throat but it was pointless and as I whimpered in pleasure the blonde simply smirked at me, a small dimple revealing itself. “What would your boyfriend think if he knew some random had his girl moaning like this?” She asked cockily. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think of a reply. Hell, I couldn’t think of Caleb at all. Not while the wet sound of my arousal filled the small bathroom stall.

“Does he make you moan like this?” No. “Does he make you feel this good?” No. “Do I fuck you better than him?” Yes. But I wasn’t about to admit any of that to the girl I didn’t even know the name of. In an attempt to shut her up, I pressed my lips to hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth. Our tongues fought with each others. Sloppy and heated. I groaned into her mouth as her thumb rubbed soft, tight circles over my clit. “Fuck.” My voice was shaky as I pulled away and my legs almost buckled beneath me as my stomach flipped and contracted as I was worked to the edge. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The blue eyed girl mumbled as she held me firmly in place, against the wall.

With her hand no longer covering my mouth my sordid sounds were no longer being interrupted and my back arched off the wall as my body was overcome with pleasure. “Don’t stop.” I begged as I felt myself clench around the fingers buried inside of me. My skin prickled and my body twitched as I came undone. My head dropped to the taller girls chest and the guttural groan that I let out was damn right sinful.

Breathless and trembling, I whined as her fingers slipped out of me leaving me empty and dripping. I watched with hooded eyes as she took her slick fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of what I wanted to say but the moment was harshly interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open.

“Paige! We’re leaving!” I expected both of us to remain silent. Inconspicuous. But the girl in front of me called out back, “Give me two minutes.” At least she had a name now.

Paige fixed my skirt back into position after it had hiked up to my waist and she ran her thumb under my lip, no doubt wiping away smudged lipstick. “For the record, you can grind on me anytime.” And just as quick as she had made me cum, she left me stood alone, heart still racing from my climax.

“Unbelievable.” Whoever had called out for Paige was still in the bathroom so I remained hidden in the stall, “Give me a break, Azzi.” Paige replied and I was quickly met with silence as the two girls exited.

thank u for reading bbys, smooches!

[black-lake]

astro observations 10

Hey -- I miss doing these astro notes, it’s been- years? where have I been? forced into a rat race. I’ve lately been watching a lot of stand up comedies, timeless comedy movies, rush hour, the hangover, you name it, they don’t make shit like this anymore. I’ve also been dealing with saturn transit my 10th house and conjunct my sun fucking up my life. so I got stuff to share.

 ——

⛄︎ Happy capricorn season! I find it ironic that capricorns are hard workers but people don’t work hard in capricorn season, it’s when everybody slows down, enjoys the holidays, reflects and attempts to make new year’s plans. 

Aspects that indicate humor 

☃︎ I said it before and I will say it again, strong mercury-jupiter aspects are the most common in comedians charts, every existing comedian seems to have them conjunct, oppose or square. e.g. Jim Carrey, Kate McKinnon, Kevin Hart (mercury conj jupiter). Chris Tucker, Amy Schumer (mercury square jupiter). Rowan Atkinson, Steve Carell (mercury opp Jupiter).

☃︎ Moon in scorpio or capricorn, top notch dark humor. Chris Tucker, Pete Davidson, Louis C.K. (capricorn moon). Ricky Gervais, Ryan Reynolds, Matthew Perry (scorpio moon). 

☃︎ Moon in gemini or sagittarius, making you laugh at random things, making the small details in life events remarkable and ironic. Sag got that joyful light hearted spirit no matter how sarcastic they get. Bill Burr, John Mulaney (sag moon). Gemini got that chaotic animated twisted humor, can go on endless tangents but you’ll never get bored. Aubrey Plaza, Jim Carrey, and Rowan Atkinson (gemini moon).

☃︎ North node in gemini or sagittarius being a naturally funny storyteller their whole life. I also notice north node in virgo, leo and capricorn in those that pursue public speaking or stand up. 

☃︎ Many comedians or just straight up funny people got MC in gemini, virgo, sagittarius, or leo. 

☃︎ Mercury in aries, leo, gemini, sagittarius, scorpio, capricorn the type of people that tell a basic story but the tone of their voice, choice of words, and the underlying emotion mixed with their perspective and delivery makes it hilarious.

☃︎ Mercury in a fire sign, can be loud, the underlying anger and passion in their voice tone is what makes them funny. Chris Tucker, Kevin Hart and Dave Chappelle all got a leo mercury. Joe List got an aries mercury.

☃︎ Mercury in an air sign, they keep you engaged, animated expressions, great at impressions and mimicking when they tell stories. Trevor Noah is a good example and Jim Carrey (aquarius mercury).

☃︎ Mercury in earth and water, the way they so calmly tell an intense life event story with a straight face and calm demeanor, almost seeming high, a lot of irony and nonchalance. Pete Davidson (scorpio mercury), Ricky Gervais (cancer mercury) and Kate McKinnon (capricorn mercury). 

☃︎ I have mercury conj jupiter in aries and I’m ruled by mercury (gemini rising). I’m super sarcastic and cutthroat when angry, it makes people upset, shocked, amused, wanting to laugh but also butt heads with me. My mind can find irony in literally anything. I also can change my voice and facial expressions easily when I’m mimicking someone. 

☃︎ Those with strong mercury-pluto aspects, the type that could actually give you contractions from laughter. They think intensely, experience life intensely, are cutthroat and skeptical, are super intellectual and deep which is enough to make them ironic in the way they communicate. Their communication style comes across as bold, raw and shocking, saying it how it is, not afraid of joking about taboo or embarrassing stuff. It feels like my life is fucked up my mind is fucked up and I don't give a fuck typa attitude. Matthew Perry, Pete Davidson, Louis C.K, Adam Sandler, Ryan Reynolds, Steve Carell (mercury conj pluto).

☃︎ Heavy pluto and saturn placements can make someone insanely funny especially if they’ve got aspects indicating public speaking. The absolute best at self deprecating humor. They aren’t afraid to share their traumatic experiences, because not only they make people laugh but they give hope to those who can relate. They got where they are by accumulating that much knowledge and wisdom and it came through many wounds usually relating to rejection, abandonment and feeling inadequate. They use humor to heal themselves and others. 

☃︎ Pete Davidson, Ryan Reynolds and Ricky Gervais got heavy scorpio and pluto conjunctions, examples of plutonian humor. Dave Chappelle and Chris Tucker got heavy saturn aspects, examples of saturnian humor.

☃︎ Now Chris Tucker got all the basic comedian placements. He’s easily one of the best and most successful comedians to ever exist. The type to open his mouth and everyone starts laughing. It’s the attitude not even the context. He was the popular kid too, friends with Michael Jackson, Michael Jordan, Muhammad Ali, Jackie Chan, Prince and literally every iconic celebrity in the US. 

☃︎ Chris has a mercury square Jupiter at 0°, leo mercury 28°, capricorn moon, scorpio jupiter, saturn in gemini, jupiter conj neptune (can expand the imagination in storytelling), north node in aquarius (he was a trailblazer in rush hour and many comedians mimic him).

----

☃︎ I noticed so many times that people with saturn in gemini can be socially responsible, meaning that they refuse to cuss in some occasions and refuse to talk shit or go against their morals. Partially due to the lessons they learned on gossip and the consequences of misinformation or twisted narratives. Chris Tucker rejected an offer because he refused to cuss and smoke weed on camera, he also avoids vulgarity and profanity in his stand ups. 

☃︎ Those with gemini north node are either so good at communicating clearly, storytelling and entertaining or will learn that in this lifetime. Same goes for gemini risings. One of their missions is to accumulate knowledge from everywhere they go without the need for distant travel and sharing it with others rather than keeping it confined for abstract contemplations (sag south node). They develop a communication style that is so personal to them that allows them to be a messenger, a bridge between people and a powerful speaker. 

☃︎ I have a leo north node and the more I grow older the more I realize I'm never meant to act so old. This inner child in me screams to come out after every tough cycle esp when I'm mentally trapped in societal conformity. Those with a leo nn exude childlike innocence and purity, at their best spreading love and joy wherever they go. Though to get there they go through challenging experiences alone to build so much strength and confidence so they can pursue what they love and share love so freely since they are so used to being cold and detached (aqua south node). 

☃︎ Those with a cancer north node are naturally so good at business matters like building a company or climbing the success ladder (capricorn south node). They learn quickly that material success alone does not bring them fulfillment. Every time they reach somewhere that feeling of achievement is fleeting and they just want to share those moments with others. They have this urge to connect emotionally to their loved ones and create memories. They might desire having a family of their own, a secure home, and a sense of safety and stability.

I somehow always unintentionally post in december and my posts be considered old next month, so I quit my toxic draining job last week, kinda feels like a life crisis, but I’m feeling so safe and cozy in my bed having my hot mocha eating all the christmas sweets and watching funny shit. so share your fav stand ups, funny movies or documentaries, anything you watch during the holidays. stay warm and cozy 🧣🎅🏼

[axylotls]

⌕ s͟e͟a͟r͟c͟h͟i͟n͟g axyl's pg . .

zᶻ ( MAIN DRS ) ⨟ ♡

my main drs refer to the drs i'm most focused on scripting and the ones i'll mostly be posting about (this will be updated over time as i get hyperfixated on drs!!) — if you're curious about which dr i'm planning on shifting to first, that would be my 'rocky beach house' waiting room which you'll find listed below

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ marvel / mcu [ feat. idols ] ⠷

i have multiple mcu/marvel related drs, but this is one of my main ones—and the only one that i will be sharing (as of right now.) i have taken out soooo much from the original source material 'cause i'm not looking to get traumatized lol! still figuring some things out, but will update as i have them all settled in my brain & notes app ^O^

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ zerobaseone [ gyubrik vers ] ⠷

yes i have a major crush on both ricky and gyuvin... err there really isn't much to say about this dr 'cause basically the only particularly interesting thing about it is that i date shimkongz but you know what that's enough for me and that's all that matters. (watch me go back and edit this specific part of this post multiple times 'cause it changes depending on which member(s) i'm hyperfixated on lmao)

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ crush! [ own bg ] ⠷

my staple group, my family, my home, my everything. i love these boys with all my heart!! this dr came from the idea of being a nugu group that ends up dominating the industry. i also wanted this dr to be mostly unscripted as i'm normal a scripting fanatic lolz - definitely one of my faves ever!

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ zerobaseone [ poly vers ] ⠷

no yujin is not included in the poly because he is my brother!!!! (scripted him into boynextdoor) anyway, one of my faves ever because i'm always debating which zb1 dr to focus on (i have 20+..) and i realize how much easier it is to pick if i'm just dating all of the members<33 i love my familybaseone

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ male soloist ⠷

three male drs in a row... i am Man. again i adore this dr because i have nothing else to say i just love it okay!!!!! in this dr i was a contestant on boys planet and ended up in 10th so ultimately not making the lineup.... but it's okay because through the show i get to meet my boyfie gunwook<33

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ zerobaseone [ gunwook vers. ] ⠷

nobody loves gunwook more than me!!! (i'm looking at you seok matthew) this dr is free from any angst at all despite me being a bit of an oblivious dummy but that's nothing.. also pre-debut i was a prodigy so my iq is like 189 'cause i'm just that cool and awesome except im an actual dumbass when it comes to love 'cause tell me why i don't know gunwook is crushing on me despite confessing to my face multiple times throughout idol planet??

zᶻ ( FAVE DRS ) ⨟ ♡

listed below are some of my favourite and most special drs, but they don't quite make the cut for being my main dr as i'm focusing on other things at the moment. they're still very dear to me and definitely in my list of priorities of places i want to shift to first, though!!!

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ boynextdoor ⠷

one of my favourite male drs >_< there isn't much to say about this dr other than i love it very much. the angst from my relationship with jaehyun reflects my cr a lot so sometimes it's a bit bittersweet talking about this dr, but i love it so much either way and i cannot wait to live out my life here

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ girlnextdoor [ own gg ] ⠷

boynextdoor's sister group except not sister cause most of the members are dating each other... one of my many own girl group drs however it is by far my favourite not only because of our adorable concept, but also the overall vibes of the dr are superb compared to any other ^O^

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ solis [ loona brother grp ] ⠷

i got inspired by a shiftoker who introduced his loona brother group dr! i've always adored the girls (and i do have a few loona drs!!!) but a brother group is just what i needed :] i scripted the members to be the zb1 members + myself (duh), and dessa (bestie!!!!!!) & someone else that i haven't figured out 'cause i had to script out the other person i originally had 'cause we aren't friends anymore!!!!!! the lore goes CRAZY by the way...

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ enhypen [ multiple vers. ] ⠷

if you know me, you know i love enhypen!!! i currently have five different enha drs which includes my main eighth member dr, my 7th member dr where i scripted out jay cause i date someone else (that man can't exist if he's not dating me!!!), another 7th member dr but i'm a Man, my femhypen aka genderbent enhypen dr, as well as my 12th member dr where it's actually a co-ed group

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ aespa [ multiple vers. ] ⠷

aespa is one of my ult ggs that i love so much :] i have a fifth member dr where i date karina and a fourth member dr where i replace karina lol yes i'm crazy psycho and can't see my s/os date other people so i script them out altogether!!!

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ zerobaseone [ multiple vers. ] ⠷

as i've mentioned before i have MANY zb1 drs im talking 20+ and i can't even give you an exact number because i add and remove zb1 drs basically on the daily these days... the ones that are staying for sure (which are separated by who i'm dating—and not including the two that are my main drs) are: jiwoong dr, hao dr, hanbin dr, matthew dr, taerae dr, ricky dr, gyuvin dr, gunwook dr, ot8 (w/o yujin) poly dr, mattparkz dr, shimkongz dr, myung jaehyun dr, woonhak dr, and karina dr

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ stray kids [ multiple vers. ] ⠷

stray kids was my ult group for the longest time and although i don't stan them as hard as i used to, they'll always be some of my favourite people which is why i adore my two skz drs with all my heart! my main (and first ever non-own grp kpop dr) skz dr is my minho dr and my most recent one is my minsung dr :] no i don't ship them irl but yes i date both of them!!!! we exist!!! also btw i'm a guy in both of these drs ^O^

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ atlantis [ own bg ] ⠷

this was my first male dr that i made back when i thought i was cis... dark times! however its one of my faves and has a very detailed survival show (that definitely needs to be updated) that i will for sure talk about at some point in time lol i love my members in this dr so much

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ eclipse [ own gg ] ⠷

this was my first ever k-pop dr which i made before even knowing k-pop drs were actually very common in the shifting community (i learned shifting on instagram and i wasn't really a part of the community until i joined tiktok about six months after learning about it) anyway i love my eclipse girlies and one of the main reasons i made this dr was to have a co-ed kingdom/queendom show where the winners would be named the kings and queens of kpop (obviously eclipse wins!!)

zᶻ ( OTHER DRS ) ⨟ ♡

below are all my other drs!! note that i have so many drs and many of them have multiple versions (for example i have "canon" drs and some that feature idols instead of the original characters; other drs i just have multiple to experience different lives or have different s/os lol) so this technically isn't every single one of my drs, but every single universe that i will shift to. they say to dream big and i do!!!!

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ k-pop [ & fame drs ] ⠷

day6. (g)i-dle. itzy. ive. le sserafim. loona. newjeans. p1harmony. the rose. triples. txt. xdinary heroes. 3racha. multiple own grp + soloist drs. actor/actress. author. backup dancer. bake-off reality show. band. basketball player. boysworld. chicken shop date. director. katseye. little mix. mcyt. nepo baby. one direction. rapper. reality show. sugar baby. tennis player. vlogger.

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ mlb + marvel [ & hogwarts drs ] ⠷

agatha all along. black widow. general mcu. marvel w/ idols. mlb hero. mlb villain. mlb academy. mlb w/ idols. mlb x marvel. beauxbatons. canadian wizarding school. golden trio. hogwarts w/ idols. marauders. marauders w/idols. modern golden trio.

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ tv show [ & movie drs ] ⠷

alice in borderland. alice in wonderland. a.n.t. farm. arcane. austin & ally. baby. the babysitters club. batfam. bella & the bulldogs. best friends whenever. big hero six. bikini bottom. boynextdoor next door. business proposal. camp half blood. criminal minds. descendants. the devil wears prada. diamond castle. enhypen next door. ever after high. everything sucks. fairy secret. fashion fairytale. the fosters. gilmore girls. good luck charlie. the good place. gravity falls. hannah montana. her private life. hometown cha cha cha. how to train your dragon. the hunger games. inside out. island princess. jessie. jumanji. k-12 (i don't support melanie!!). kc undercover. lab rats. lemonade mouth. little women. maleficent. mean girls. my demon. namib. narnia. neverland. one day at a time. outerbanks. part time idol. pitch perfect. pokémon. power rangers. princess & the popstar. princess charm school. princess diaries. princess switch. sam & cat. the school for good and evil. shake it up. shameless. shrek. sky high. spiderverse. spirited. squid game. starstruck. start up. study group. the suite life series. the summer i turned pretty. summer strike. teen beach movie. the thundermans. to all the boys i've loved before. tomorrowland. totally spies. twinkling watermelon. victorious. weak hero. wednesday. wicked. wizards of waverly place. wreck it ralph. yellowjackets. zb1 next door.

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ book [ & fanfic drs ] ⠷

chanwitch. dark moon. dollhouse. folk of the air series. geronimo stilton. heartless. hideout. i hope this doesn't find you. if you could see the sun. kitten. the lunar chronicles series. paragon academy of aces. renegades series. say please. shatter me series. the tale of geoji & jinsil. this time it's real. you don't have a shot.

୨ৎ ˚ ﹒⠀ miscellaneous [ other drs ] ⠷

ancient royalty. better cr. boarding school. children of the planets. christmas wonderland. college life. concert experience. cottage witch. cupid. double life. dragon rider academy. eternal childhood. eternal summer. fantasy. five nights at freddy's. futuristic academy. ghost hunter. idol school. intergalactic royalty. jeu imaginaire. medieval royalty. minecraft. modern royalty. pirate life. post apocalyptic. porn star. small town. spy academy. street racer. supernatural school. supernatural idol school. teacher. waiting room. women-only paradise.

[jjjjeonww]

kim mingyu - "i miss my lover."

genre - angst :( ~~in which fans find out you and mingyu are dating, so what happens next? inspired by, "Mr Loverman" by Ricky Montgomery.

on a chilly, rain-soaked eve, mingyu found himself compelled to seek out his beloved y/n, desperate for even a fleeting moment in her comforting embrace. The relentless paparazzi had driven them to this clandestine existence, stealing precious time together whenever opportunity allowed.

as he neared your apartment, his heart pounded with a potent mix of anticipation and dread. slipping inside using the spare key you'd entrusted him, he prayed for a few blissful hours lost in your warmth and love. alas, fate had other plans.

an inquisitive neighbor, spotting mingyu's arrival, wasted no time in alerting the media vultures. before dawn, scandalous images of him entering your apartment plastered every gossip rag and social media platform, accompanied by salacious headlines and wild speculation.

you, oblivious to the brewing storm, was jolted from slumber by an urgent call from her manager. the gravity of their predicament crashed down upon you as you grasped the extent of the damage. meanwhile, mingyu too faced the wrath of his own manager, a man aghast and appalled by his actions.

damage control kicked into high gear, with the agency releasing a statement that confirmed their relationship and announced an indefinite hiatus for the couple. fans erupted in outrage, feeling betrayed and deceived, their disappointment and anger palpable. a scant few voiced support, but the overwhelming majority made their displeasure known.

bound and gagged, you and mingyu could only watch in horror as their world unraveled. separated, phones confiscated, and movement restricted, you were left alone with naught but you thoughts, the weight of their choices, and the dire consequences that now confronted them. the love that once brought such joy now felt like a cruel curse, threatening to destroy all they held dear.

as the scandal unfurled, the couple was forced to confront the brutal realities of their situation. the public reaction was vicious, with hate-filled comments and death threats deluging their accounts. you and mingyu were branded traitors, liars, and worse, every move scrutinized and judged.

the agency, in a desperate bid to salvage their image, imposed strict surveillance and monitored the lovebirds' every action, limiting contact between them. you were dragged before the media for grueling interviews and press conferences, forced to defend your relationship and its love or your group's reputation. .... you sat across from mingyu, the dim lighting of the room casting your eyes, usually so full of love and adoration, were now dull and lifeless, reflecting the inner turmoil that consumed you. you stared down at your hands, folded neatly in your lap, unable to meet mingyu's gaze.

the weight of your choices and his, the consequences of your love, pressed down upon them like a physical force. the once joyful and carefree couple now carried the burden of betrayal and deceit, their every move scrutinized and judged by the unforgiving public eye.

"it's not that i don't want to be with you, mingyu," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "but look at what our love has brought us to. we're drowning in this mess, and i... i don't know if I'm strong enough to keep swimming."

.... weeks after the break up, fans were mad, sad, and happy. mad because why would you break up such a joyful and lovely couple? sad because mingyu and you couldn't be together. happy because some fans claimed you were theirs and mingyu was theirs too. those were all opinions though. but a fact is that: mingyu still misses you. so very dearly.

MUSIC: Mr Loverman, Ricky Montgomery. @min9yu_k: i miss my lover, man. Liked by: ylangelegy, gyubakeries, hanniescookie, etc. COMMENTS RESTRICTED BY OWNER.

[likea-silhouette]

Tied Together - ex bf!Harry Styles blurb

cw: mention of past relationship

word count: 2k

summary: Ever since you broke things off with Harry, you felt a massive feeling of guilt and hatred towards yourself for allowing such a trivial thing to come between the both of you. Now, all you had were your daydreams of him. What happens, in the present day, when you attend one of Harry's concerts and mix your daydreams with the reality of him being in front of you again. Inspired by the song Someone Else & Jesus by Ricky Manning

Sometimes I have this fantasy.

That one day I’ll get a knock on my door and it’s you with your arms outstretched and the widest, most infectious grin on your face.

I’d run into your arms with an exasperated cry of your name as I bury myself in your scent that envelopes your clothed chest and makes my stomach flutter. I feel as if I’m home.

It’s almost like I can smell you now, but that would be impossible amongst the thousands of sweaty, screaming bodies that are currently admiring you on a stage for the world to see and adore. 

As I briefly come back to reality, I smile to myself, watching you from the side of the stage as you do what you were clearly born to do with your life for the millions who know you’re a dime a dozen.

However, in my head, it’s just you, me, and the love that we once tended to religiously. In my mind, you’d whisper to me in that all too familiar accent, “Sorry, that I'm dropping in without warning, I've just missed you so much,” and I’d smile as if I knew this was always how it was meant to be with us. We were always meant to be so deeply tied together, yet in the real world, we couldn’t have been further apart. I shake my head and allow my ears to take in the screams and loud music that my brain had somehow filtered out in order to bring me to this space inside of my head where I went way more often than I’d like to admit. I wonder if he ever thinks of me as I think of him in a daydream that reflects our past. How he used to play me all of his new songs or tell me about his coffee order from the local coffee shop that day. The smallest things are the ones that bear the greatest weight on my heart because I crave them so so deeply, yet they are so fucking far away. That’s why I have this space inside my head that preserves a version of me and Harry that I would crawl on my hands and knees to obtain again in the real world. However, in my fantasy, I wouldn’t have to crawl to revive our relationship. Instead, we’d both have a proper laugh as we saw how inevitable it is that we would be back together again on my doorstep, because why wouldn’t it be? We are irrevocably chemical after all. Tied by a string that can’t be cut or stomped on. But instead, I left. I told Harry I couldn’t do this anymore - the touring, the months and months apart from one another. It was eating me up from the inside out and I thought that this was what he and I needed. If I just completely cut down our love that had grown into the prettiest maple tree, then eventually I would be okay. That I would heal and so would he. Except it never happened. Sure, things got easier, but I never stopped loving him no matter how many bodies I tried to use to replace him with. Now, Harry and I were strangers and he had been intertwined with other partners, and I was happy for him for that. Truthfully, I was. Harry was completely broken when I broke off our relationship. My best friend and Harry’s sister Gemma kept me in tune with how he was doing, but only because every time I talked to her, which was often, I would insist on asking if he was okay. Years later, I still did this very thing. That right there should’ve told me that what I did was the biggest regret I would make in my entire life. Now look at him - he’s touring the world again and making music that matures with every piece he creates. He’s dressing in a way that shows off how inevitably comfortable he is with himself and I couldn’t have wished more for him…except that he does this with me still by his side. I’m selfish, I know. But it’s foolish, isn’t it? I’m going to my 9-5 job and eating take-out in front of my TV on Friday nights while he’s doing all of this with his life. I am the one who lost out on so fucking much and, the fact that I did this on my own accord is the hardest pill I will ever have to swallow for the rest of my life. Especially when Harry was innocent in the matter, having done absolutely nothing wrong as a partner.

Regardless, I couldn’t be more proud of H for finding himself and those who love him - even if it means others inhabiting his heart like I wanted to again. He deserved love more than anyone because he gives it with everything he has and finding that genuine of a human is rare, yet what did I do with it? I broke it. All because I was young and I thought that long-distance relationships could never work. All because my anxieties ate away at me as I thought of the worst-case scenarios for what or who he was doing while out on tour in my absence. I placed my own insecurities on him and that isn’t fair to either of us. Now, I’m hurting in the process and I hurt him too. How stupid could I have been?

Suddenly, Harry’s voice rang through the entire arena as he addressed the crowd in between songs. Just the tone of his voice sent chills down my arms and spine and brought me, once again, out of my daydream. I watched as he interacted with those in the crowd - they didn’t know how lucky they had it. Being able to hold his attention and be graced with the things running through his mind that eventually left his mouth was such a privilege. I can’t believe I let that very thing slide through my fingers all because of my own stupidity. Harry never wanted me to break up with him. He pleaded with me on the street saying, “We can work this out. I’ll quit. I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t lose you”, but I couldn’t let him give up his dream and love in life just because it was something I, at the time, couldn’t get accustomed to. This is why I kept telling him as a way to pacify his tears, “This is for the best for both of us” - except I failed to mention that I’m no psychic, merely an insecure girl who allowed her thoughts to weigh more heavily in her chest than the love she had with him. I wish I could talk to that girl again. Warn her that he was it for her. That he was and would be everything she would ever need. Tell her that their love was strong enough to get through anything and that her mind was the one creating wars, not Harry.

Suddenly, I felt Gemma’s elbow poking into my rib just before she whispered in my ear, “He just looked at you.” Quickly, maybe a little too quickly, my eyes moved in Harry’s direction, only to find him just beginning to sing the next song with his eyes very much closed and his hands shaking as they gripped the microphone stand. “I promise you, babe. He looked right at you. Nearly looked like he pissed himself.” There I was again - missing those vital moments in life because I couldn’t get out of the make-believe inside my head.

But-god damn-in my head, it was everything I wanted and more. How could I resist? In my head, Harry watches me do the most mindless of tasks with a smile on his face and when I’d catch him, as I did every time, I’d give his knee a playful tap. He’d respond by wrapping his arms around me and whispering sweet nothings and thanks that said how happy he was that we figured it out and finally found each other once again and that this time it would be different because we were older and wiser. That’s how love is supposed to go, isn’t it? If you truly love someone, then you always find them again. Yet, why did it feel impossible to find Harry again?

I’d like to give up this hide-and-seek chase with love and instead have a kid running around our shared flat who looks like Harry and has his deep emerald eyes that remind me of him every time I look at the being we created together. But instead, I left all because I allowed my brain to tell me what was fact and fiction. Suddenly, the whiff of Harry’s scent filled my nostrils yet again, except this time it was extremely strong. It almost felt real.

I rapidly blinked my eyes and allowed the reality in front of me to come into crystal clear view. What I saw, made my mouth hang agape. Not even three feet away from me - there he was in the flesh, not just in my memories. Harry was shaking hands with a few crew members in all black as he expressed his gratitude while wiping a white towel through his sweat-dampened hair. He had clearly just finished his show and was readying himself back into his regular, non-stage life. And then his eyes met mine. “Told you he saw you”, Gemma muffled from the corner of her mouth at me as she watched the interaction of past lovers now meeting in the present. I couldn’t help the smile that graced my lips the closer he got because this was real. He was so fucking real. It wasn’t one of my far-fetched daydreaming spells, it was Harry, standing directly in front of me with a heaving chest as he tried to regain his composure after putting on a show.

Soon, he was standing directly in front of me with a matching mouth that also hung slightly open. “Hi,” I said after several seconds of the both of us staring at each other with goddamn identical stars in our eyes and wide-spread smiles. At first, Harry didn’t say anything. His eyes simply searched along my face. Taking it in - deciphering if this was reality or one of his own daydreams that he always thought to be fictitious and ridiculous to even be picturing. Yet, here you were. Here you both were. Suddenly, Harry’s arms wrapped around you and you didn’t care about the fact that the sweat from his clothes was quickly morphing into the sweat on both of your clothes. You didn’t care that it had been years and years of pain and missing him because right now, you had him where you had been craving him the most - in your arms. Everything felt worth it just for this moment, whether it lasted for just tonight or for the rest of eternity.

Harry squeezed me even tighter in his arms until eventually releasing but still maintaining a gentle touch as he let our fingertips just briefly kiss one another.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much. You have no idea.”

I shook my head because, actually- “I think I do. I’ve missed you too Harry.”

From that moment I felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time when it came to Harry and I. It was positive and even excitement.

It was hope.

[winwintea]

my apology letter

PAIRING ↬ boyfriend!zhong chenle x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ heavy angst. some fluff. no happy ending this is a breakup fic you have been warned

SUMMARY ↬ Chenle always thought that love truly wins all. Your relationship with him was filled with joy and connection. But lately, cracks have begun form. Between small misunderstandings, unspoken frustrations, and the growing sense that he’s not enough for you, Chenle begins to doubt his theory. Is love enough to bridge the gaps between you or is letting go the ultimate act of love?

WORD COUNT ↬ 3.0k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ i'm sorry in advance !!!! not really. suffer. happy birthday chenle. i hate (love) you so. very. very. much. title and fic based on my apology letter by kim yeon woo!

PLAYLIST ↬ my apology letter - kim yeon woo, who - lauv (feat. bts), lie with you - ten, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, the scientist - coldplay

CHENLE SITS DOWN, AND BEGINS WRITING HIS LETTER.

He’s lost track of how many times he’s sat in this exact seat. It used to be different. So different. At first it was nice. You were beautiful in every way possible. Kind, patient, and thoughtful. You always made him feel like the most important person in the world, even while surrounded by others. This table was a place of warmth, laughter, and love. Now the mood was only as tense as ever. 

He takes a deep breath, letting his thoughts consume him as he begins to write. 

I miss your laugh. I miss making you laugh. I miss that joyous echo of good times I could feel around the apartment, and I swear to god it was my favorite sound ever. I miss that. I miss us. 

He remembers how the mornings would go. You’d both sit at the table, sharing a simple warm breakfast that you or him had prepared. All that really seemed to matter was the two of you in that moment of time.  

He looked at you, the sunlight reflecting off of your face. You were always smiling at your phone, lips quirking as your fingers began typing. You placed your phone against your chest after hitting send, waiting for him to react. 

As Chenle was absentmindedly scrolling through the news, he noticed a notification pop up on his screen.

My Love: “You okay? You’ve been quiet today.”

Quiet, huh? You always enjoyed texting him to get his attention. Thought it was funny. He looked up to see you smiling at him with a concerned expression. Not wanting you to worry too much Chenle smiled and shook his head, but did not say anything else.

The two of you continued eating in silence. 

Chenle sets down the pen, this burden in his chest growing heavier. Where did it all go wrong with you two?

The two of you used to be inseparable. Days consisted of stolen glances, shared jokes, silly photos and videos, small moments that brought this intimacy together. Now, you barely interact with each other, barely talk to each other. His mind drifts to details of last night. 

You sat on the floor, folding the laundry in front of the TV. Your movements were slow and graceful, thoughtfully folding every article of clothing. Chenle sat on the couch behind you, staring mindlessly at the TV, playing some show he couldn’t care less about. He didn’t look at you, you didn’t look at him.

The silence was tense and deafening, yet neither of you made moves to break it.

Chenle picks up the pen again with a stronger grip.

I don’t know how we got here. I don’t know how to fix it. Actually, that’s a lie. I do. But maybe I’m not cut out for that. I know I’m losing you, and it feels like I’m losing myself too.

Chenle’s mind drifts to a day where everything seemed perfect, but always something tugging at the back of his mind.

The amusement park date. Your laughter was vibrant and warm, eyes sparked with determination as you tossed beanbags, threw balls at cans, aimed darts, always determined to best him. The two of you definitely had a competitive streak, but Chenle always made the sacrifice for you. You ended up winning a small stuffed dolphin, holding it high above your head like a trophy.

Chenle mock pouted, and laughed, “Guess I’ll stick to basketball.” He pulled you into his arms, the dolphin nearly squished between you as he pecked your cheek, while the two of you broke out into fits of giggles. 

But even in the moment of happiness and joy, there was still something eating at him from inside. 

Chenle grips his pen tighter as he recalls those fleeting moments of joy, moments that now feel bittersweet. He lets the ink flow on the paper again, writing some more.

I think about how happy we’ve been, and yet there’s always this weight, this worry I can’t stop thinking about. Even in our brightest moments, something felt... off. It’s not because of you, but because of me. It's slowly destroying me.

Later that evening, the two of you had dinner at your favorite restaurant. Chenle thinks about the way your face lit up when the waiter placed your meal in front of you. He could never get over these small things that you did that make his heart feel giddy as well. 

You slipped out your phone and took a photo of the meal, sending it to him with a caption to the photo.

My Love: [Photo Attached]

My Love: "We should make this at home sometime! You’re practically a chef. 😊"

Chenle chuckled, replying out loud, “Only if you clean it up afterwards.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you dove into your meal. For a while, everything felt easy, like it used to.

But then you got home.

It started with something small. Just a simple misunderstanding about weekend plans. Chenle couldn’t even remember the exact details now, only how frustrated he felt when his words seemed to fall short. He’d tried to explain, stumbling over his thoughts, but the look on your face never changed. You remained calm, patient, nodding along as if you understood every word.

You always did that—nodded and smiled. But had you really understood him?

Chenle sets the pen down again, and stares at the words he just wrote on the page.

"You always tried to meet me where I was, even when I couldn’t meet you halfway. I see that now. And I hate that I didn’t see it sooner."

He swallows hard, glancing toward the bedroom door. The stuffed dolphin you won that day lay peacefully tucked away in the closet. It reminds you of the time when things were simpler, or maybe just felt that way.

He stares at the words, hoping they’ll somehow fix what’s broken. But words alone aren’t enough.

They never have been.

Chenle’s been so lost in his memories and thoughts that he hasn’t noticed how much time has passed. He lifts his head and sees you standing in the kitchen. You’ve been here the whole time.

Preparing a lunch for the two of you, you move quietly, chopping the vegetables and stirring a pot on the stove. He barely hears your movements, soft and careful. He wonders if you feel the tension between you two as acutely as he does.

And for that moment, he just watches you. Your posture is relaxed, your head tilted slightly as if you’re caught in your own world. You seem so at peace, and it breaks him.

Chenle wants to reach out to you. To stop this moment from becoming what he knows it has to be. He wants to take your hand, to hold on to you just a little longer. But he knows that’s selfish. This cannot wait.

He swallows hard, his throat tightening as he tears his gaze away from you. His hands clenched into fists on the table, fingers trembling slightly. This is it. 

Taking a deep breath, Chenle forces himself to speak. His voice is low, almost breaking, the words that come out of his mouth are barely audible.

“Y/N, let’s break up.”

Chenle had been distant lately, but you didn’t press him. He always had this quiet side to him, and you figured he’d come around when he was ready. You trusted him.

Lunch was extra special today. You were making tteok-bokki—Chenle’s favorite. It wasn’t a particularly hard dish, but he appreciated the effort you put in for it. You focused on the ingredients, the soft sizzle of the stove and the aroma that filled the kitchen. Smells like these made everything feel brighter.

You lost yourself in the rhythm of cooking, chopping vegetables and stirring the sauce until it thickened just right. He had taught you how to make the dish originally, cooking it to perfection until you got it just the way he liked it.

You glanced over your shoulder at him briefly. He was at the dining table, hunched over something. A notebook? His phone? You couldn’t tell. He didn’t look up.

It wasn’t like him to be so withdrawn. He’d always try—he’d send funny memes or silly videos to make you smile. Lately, though, his texts had seemed less and less. You told yourself he was just busy, and would make time as usual to make it up to you.

When the food was nearly ready, you began washing the dishes in the sink, suddenly remembering something you’d been meaning to ask. You turned around, leaning slightly on the counter, and smiled.

“Chenle,” you said, your voice soft but clear. “Take off early for work today and let’s go out to eat dinner together, alright?”

Your hands begin to move, signing something quickly as you mouthed the words out, the gestures being full of emotion to convey your thoughts and feelings. It was your way of making sure he understood. He didn’t know a lot of sign language, but he always made the effort to try and guess.

He initially looked at you with a serious face, his lips in a tight thin line. His eyes were conflicted. Why he looked so pained for some reason, you had no idea. But as soon as you started signing his lips curved into a smile once more, a familiar smile that you loved looking at all day long. 

Eventually after no reaction, Chenle seemed to process your words and nodded his head. He held his hand up in a ‘ok’ position to ensure that he had understood and got the memo. 

Pleased with his response, you turned back around and finished up your task in the kitchen. 

Chenle had asked you to prepare him lunch. You suggested his favorite. He needed this moment to himself, to let the words leave his mouth and test the weight of them in the air.

“Let’s break up,” he had whispered while your back was turned. The words had tasted bitter, like ash on his tongue, their weight heavier than he could have anticipated.

But you hadn’t heard him.

You’d been deaf since the moment he met you. He could still remember your first conversation. It was brief and awkward, with you typing out sentences on your phone and holding the screen in front of him. He’d smiled at how patient you were. A patience you still had today. From that moment, he was hooked.

Yet now, after all this time, he hated himself for how little he’d tried to understand you better.

Chenle leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. The guilt felt like a heavy weight, weighing his shoulders down.

He loved you. God, he loved you so much. But it wasn’t enough. Love alone wasn’t enough to bridge the gap of happiness between the two of you.

He thought about all the times you had signed something to him, your gestures full of emotion, but he could only guess their meaning. You never scolded him for not understanding, never grew angry when he needed you to repeat yourself or resort to texting instead. You were always kind and understanding. Patient and calm. 

But you shouldn’t have to be patient. You shouldn’t have to wait for him to change. You shouldn’t have to wait this long. 

He had taken advantage of your patience, convincing himself that things would work out eventually. He would catch on quickly. Or so he thought. 

He had barely scratched the surface of learning sign language, and didn’t put in as much effort as he should’ve. 

He wasn’t enough for her. His mind flooded with these thoughts and revelations. These words were sharp and seemed to pierce his heart, filling him with immense pain.

The gap between his hearing and your not hearing had grown too large, too large to ignore. At first, he had thought together you could leap over it, that your love would be enough. But he was wrong.

You deserved someone who would dive into that gap and build a bridge, piece by piece, brick by brick. Someone who would work to understand every gesture, every look you made, every unspoken word.

He wasn’t that person. He would never be that person.

Chenle glanced at the letter on the table, the words he had written laid out before his own eyes. He wanted to say goodbye, but he couldn’t find a way to do it face to face. Not properly. Not without him breaking down. 

Maybe he wasn’t strong enough to say the words. Call him a coward. He couldn’t face you. He couldn’t even say he wanted to break up with you outright. Yet he wasn’t brave enough to stay and keep letting you down.

He heard you call his name again, your voice soft and light, the way you always spoke just for him. Your hands moved as you spoke, signing the words with ease, your face glowing after looking at him. 

And in that moment, he realized: no matter who he met in the future, he would never love anyone the way he loved you.

But that love wasn’t enough.

The apartment felt emptier than ever when you walked in one day after work. 

You’d noticed the change the moment you opened the door: the subtle shift in the air, the absence of his shoes by the entrance, the way the quiet seemed louder than usual, some space seemed emptier than you remembered. Your chest tightened as you stepped further inside looking around the living room.

That’s when you saw it.

A neatly folded envelope sat on the table, your name written on it in Chenle’s familiar handwriting. Beside it, the small dolphin you’d won at the amusement park laid out next to the letter on the table, its glossy black eyes staring back up at you.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your hands trembling as you picked up the envelope. You didn’t open it right away. Instead, you stood there, staring at the letter, trying to steady your breathing for a bit. You knew this was coming. You tried to ignore the signs, but you were correct.

When you finally sat down, it was in the same chair Chenle always used. You never sat in it, since it always seemed like his spot. The cushion still felt warm somehow, as though he had been there just moments ago. You placed the envelope on the table in front of you, staring at it for what felt like an eternity before you finally gathered enough courage to open it.

The letter was written in his careful handwriting, each word deliberate, each line heavy with emotion. As you began to read, tears blurred your vision.

My dearest Y/N,

By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be gone. I know you probably saw it coming—I’ve been distant for a while now. And I know you deserve more than this. A goodbye in words rather than on a page. But this is the only way I could say everything I need to. 

From the moment I met you, you were the brightest part of my life. You lit up every room you walked into. You taught me so much about patience, about kindness, about love.

And I failed you.

Things have been different, haven’t you noticed? I miss your laugh. I miss making you laugh. I miss that joyous echo of good times I could feel around the apartment, and I swear to god it was my favorite sound ever. I miss that. I miss us. 

I don’t know how we got here. I don’t know how to fix it. Actually, that’s a lie. I do. But maybe I’m not cut out for that. I know I’m losing you, and it feels like I’m losing myself too.

I’ve tried to convince myself that our love would be enough to bridge the gap between us, that I could make up for my shortcomings. But the truth is, I haven’t. I’ve barely tried to learn about you and your world. You’ve carried so much of the burden, of the weight of our relationship, and I just let you.

You deserve someone who won’t let you do that. Someone who will learn every gesture, every sign there is in the vocabulary of sign language, who will work tirelessly to meet you where you are.

That someone isn’t me.

I hate myself for not being enough for you. I hate that I couldn’t give you what you deserve. And I hate that my love for you isn’t enough to fix this.

You always tried to meet me where I was, even when I couldn’t meet you halfway. I see that now. And I hate that I didn’t see it sooner.

I think about how happy we’ve been, and yet there’s always this weight, this worry I can’t stop thinking about. Even in our brightest moments, something felt... off. It’s not because of you, but because of me. It's slowly destroying me.

I hope that someday, you find someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved. Someone who will put in the effort I didn’t, someone who will never let you feel alone.

I’ll never stop loving you, Y/N. I just hope that letting you go gives you the chance to find the happiness I couldn’t give you.

I’m so sorry.

- Chenle

Your hands trembled, shaking the letter slightly, your tears dripping onto the paper and smudging the ink. You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle the sobs threatening to escape, but it was no use.

The dolphin on the table stared back at you as if it held all the memories you’d shared—the laughter, the quiet moments, the love.

You folded the letter carefully, placing it back in the envelope as your tears continued to fall. Sitting there in the silence, you felt the weight of his absence settle around you.

And yet, even through the pain, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame him.

Because you understood. And that hurt the most.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000 @polarisjisung @peterm4rker @sleepyvic @chenlesfavorite (u too pookie)

[majestyeverlasting]

A Little Less Restless

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I haven't posted any new writing in a bit, and it feels good to be resolving that (yay me). Please enjoy this piece I wrote today. Lot's of fluff and very obvious feelings. It's been a while since I wrote something for him. <3

Three knocks sound on Bucky’s front door as his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom. He's leaning close to the mirror in careful criticism. Enough to see the green flecks in his irises. The freckles on his cheeks from being in the sun. The pricks of hair making up his scruff. Then he eases back and squares his shoulders. They fall after he releases a breath. 

He prays he doesn’t look as restless as he feels. 

The smile you give him when he answers the door carries a warmth he isn’t sure he deserves. But he takes it because that’s all he can do. Enjoy it like a man who’s been cold his whole life. By some miracle, he feels himself smiling back in that small, weighted way of his. It was a trade off of sorts, and now you’re even. No outstanding debts. 

He motions you inside with a soft please, and you study him once you’re in the foyer. In the few seconds that you’re silently observing, Bucky wishes he knew exactly why. As tender as your gaze is, heat was already rising to his cheeks. But like everything else when it comes to you, he takes it. Looks right back at you shyly, pushes his hands into his pockets, and waits. 

“Your hair’s shorter,” you finally say, smile growing wider. “Did you cut it?” 

“Cut it,” he repeats like a question, hands moving to run through it. The previous night creeps back to the forefront of his mind. 

When he’d gone for a walk to get some air and inadvertently found himself being drawn in by the red, white, and blue barber’s pole spiraling on the next block. It’d been ages since he’d gone to a professional, but walking inside to the faint scent of tobacco and aftershave made him feel as though he’d never stopped. 

“Mhm,” you hum, certain. 

The stumped look on his face vanishes like it was never supposed to be there. “I went and got it trimmed at a place called Ricky’s last night.” 

“And you forgot that quickly?” Next thing he knows, you’re wrapping him in an embrace, peeking up at him after a few seconds, “I’m teasing.” 

He squeezes you back tighter. 

It’s you who eventually pulls away, and he finds himself trailing you as you venture deeper into his apartment, eyes roving thoughtfully. A coffee table now complements the couch in the living room. The walls are no longer bare. At long last, the space was beginning to look more like a home. 

For the longest time, Bucky had only seen it as a place to rest his head after countless assignments that took him miles away. It didn’t need to be anything special, or so he thought. One of the first things you told him upon coming into his life was that he needed a constant. A place to come back to that he could make his own. That was his. He’d spent so much of his life serving other people and belonging to other people that he was finally learning what it meant to be his own. 

It was exhausting not being halfway across the world with a task to busy his mind. Brooklyn was still in comparison. A place where he could recognize street names, faces, point out buildings that used to be something else when he was a kid. And now there was you, who made being stateside worthwhile in a way he didn’t think was possible. He realized then, how much he’d deprived himself of meaningful connections outside of work. 

“It looks great in here, Buck. What’d I tell you?” Your earnesty is genuine. Makes him, as old and borderline cynical as he is, feel special. “You’re gonna have to start inviting me over more.” You shoot him a wink, and he freezes because of the weight of the implication. If you notice, you don’t say anything. 

A few months ago you’d been strangers crossing paths. Then acquaintances. Now friends who cared about each other a whole awful lot. Only, it was more obvious on your end. He kept most of his sentiments guarded, not yet ready for them to bleed out like an open wound. It didn’t help that you were always wielding a knife, coming closer and closer to cut through the wall he built around himself. 

“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “I’m always here.” 

“When you’re not on assignment,” you add. “And I know. I just don’t want to scare you away.” 

Bucky frowns at the suggestion, but his lips eventually turn up. “Good thing you’re not a scary person,” he says, counting on earning a laugh. Something. 

And you do, right before shaking your head. “I’m serious.” 

“You couldn’t scare me away,” he assures. 

You nod slowly. “So how’ve you been?” There’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue, so he waits it out. It ends up punching him right in the gut. “You look…I don’t know.” 

It hadn’t been all too long since he’d come back from Morocco. Only a week. And it would be a while before he was sent out anywhere else. His mind was in the constant process of drifting to the type of thoughts all men sifted through when they have nothing but time. Those regarding purpose, belonging, and meaning. Not to a deep, crippling degree, but enough to make him want to spring into some sort of action. Find something to indulge in that wasn’t saving the world. 

Bucky swallows and shifts his weight. “Restless,” he offers. “Didn’t think you’d notice.” 

“I’ll always notice.” Silence stretches between the two of you and a siren wails in the distance. “Maybe we can go out tonight, just you and me. Is that something you’d wanna do?” The question sounds shy. 

What you didn’t know quite yet is that he’d probably do just about anything if it was with you. 

***

At the end of the night, it’s Bucky who pulls out his card and pays for dinner. Not even giving you the chance to think about digging into your purse. As an old tune continues playing overhead, your grateful eyes sparkle at him from across the table. 

Neither of you had dined here before. It’s one of the places Bucky said used to go by a different name and was run by a different family, Italians. You liked listening to him talk about what once was because it made you realize just how much he knew. Just how thoughtful and reverent he was when it came to the good memories he had. 

Being listened to so intently was new for him. But he enjoyed it. Especially when you’d ask questions or bring up a point he made further back in the conversation. By the time the waiter comes back around with his card and his copy of the receipt, the two of you are basking in the memory of the evening and thinking about what the rest of the night may hold. 

“This was really nice,” he says, folding his napkin and setting it aside on the table. Then his expression becomes consumed by a certain solemness. “I don’t know how well it comes across, but I need you to know that I appreciate you. A lot.”

Your heart nearly bursts. “I know, Bucky,” you promise. He still looks unconvinced, so you extend your hand face up on the table for him to take. “I know.” 

The cab ride back to his place is quiet. You hold onto his hand the whole way, relishing the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth over your skin. It’s a gesture that says I’m here with, I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me. Brooklyn passes by in rushes of darkness peppered with light. Pedestrians walk alongside the streets, some holding hands just like the two of you. It isn’t long before the driver pulls up alongside the curb of the complex. 

It isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you’re sure that you want to stay. 

The two of you get off at the fifth floor. 

“Is it okay if I spend the night? If not, I completely understand. I know it’s such short notice,” you ramble as he’s turning his key into the door. He hopes you don’t notice the way he falters. But part of him knows you do. You don’t miss anything. Luckily for him, you’re just as fazed by your own question, holding your breath. 

It’s not until you’re inside that he graces you with an answer, “‘Course you can.”

Your shoulders drop in relief. What you’re not expecting is the laugh he tries to bite back. Maybe it was mean of him, but he liked knowing he could make you sweat. Sometimes it seemed like it was only ever you who made him openly anxious. 

“You’re terrible,” you accuse, failing at restraining a smile. “Absolutely horrible.” You’d forgotten to throw away an empty water bottle before you left, and it’s the closest thing you’re able to throw his way in retaliation. He catches it and tosses it in the trash himself. 

Mischief written all along his smile when he starts towards you. 

Partly scared and partly excited, you think to flee at the last second. After a few measly steps, you’re being pulled back into the firmness of his chest. He’s sure enough laughing now, the vibration rushing straight into your back right along with the warmth of his body. So are you. He only has one arm secured around your waist and, despite the fact that he’s not even trying, it's enough to hold you. 

“Wait, wait, wait—hold on a second!” your words come out giggly both because you’re anticipating some sort of attack, and because he’s never held you quite like this before. Unlike a normal hug, this feels like he has you rather than you having each other. It’s vulnerable. Dizzying. 

“You win, you win!” 

“What?” he laughs in surprise. His mouth is so close to your ear that you shiver. “Thought you had more fight in you than that,” there’s a playful warmth to his words. 

You shake your head in denial and relax back into him. You didn’t stand a chance of winning unless he let you, and you were more than willing to tap out early. Because even so, you were still in his arms at his mercy, and somehow that felt like the safest place to be. By the time you realize both of your laughter has faded to a thoughtful silence, he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear. 

When he lowers his arm from around your waist, you turn around to face him. 

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. He suddenly looks boyish, younger. Having crawled out of whatever shell of crushing expectation and responsibility he usually resided within. 

When he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, his shoulders relax and his breaths slow. And for once, he indulges. In you. In the prospect of having someone to lean on and being leaned on in return. It’s a reminder that he’s allowed to experience nice things. To have a life to look forward to outside of lending himself to cause after cause. 

You’re soft, and warm, and everything good a person could be. He pulls away slowly after a while, blinking down at you with heavy eyelids. You’re looking right back at him like he’s the world itself. 

“Maybe you’re not so terrible,” you whisper, smiling. 

Of everything he was feeling now, restless wasn’t one of them. 

_

Thank you so much for reading! I promise I see every like, comment, and reblog and appreciate them all very much. 

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[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Grind On Me..

Jey Uso x Reader

Author’s Note: last one, was suppose to post this one first but forgot to edit it 🤭

baby mamas: @love4brutality @cheappop @acknowledge-reigns @minteagalaxea @isabella-2025 @maineventabbey

specifically made for @spiicii

no warnings but ALL the warnings… specifically meant to be a surprise but y’all already know what we are capable of.

The pedicure chair came alive beneath you, gentle vibrations working their way up your calves as the warm water soaks your feet. The scent of lavender lotion and fresh polish lingers in the air. You take another sip of your iced coffee, eyes half-lidded, the muted sounds of the nail salon blending with soft R&B overhead.

Beside you, your best friend Ryan is already mid-story, her hands moving wildly as she talks. She’s glowing—like she knows something you don’t.

“I’m telling you,” she says, dropping her voice like it’s some scandalous secret, “it was otherworldly. I had Jimmy in handcuffs. I climbed on top, told him not to move, not to speak. Just… feel me.”

You glance at her, amused. “You make it sound like you went to a sex retreat, not his apartment.”

Ryan laughs, tossing her head back. “It felt like a retreat. I was in charge, and I made him breathe with me. Eye contact the whole time. No rushing. No thrusting. Just slow, deep grindin’. His heart was pounding—I heard it. And girl…” She exhales, fanning herself with her freshly done nails. “I cried. Like, full-body release cried.”

You choke on your drink. “You cried?”

“I transcended,” she insists. “It was like my body just… took over. Total control. It was mindful, sensual—every inch of him had to feel me.”

You scoff, trying not to smile. “Yeah okay. Jey would never let me do all that.”

Ryan smirks knowingly, tapping a nail against her cup. “He would. If you told him to. I seen the way he looks at you… if you demanded it, that man would just drop everything and eat you out right here in the pedicure chair.”

You shake your head, dismissing it, but your mind drifts anyway. You picture it—Jey beneath you, breath syncing with yours, his wrists cuffed and mouth shut, letting you run the show.

Ryan’s voice cuts in again, daring. “Go ahead. Try it. Just once.”

You swirl your straw through the melting ice. Then, with a slow smile, you say, “Bet.”

—

Later that day..

The bass hits first—syrupy and familiar. Pretty Ricky’s Grind With Me floats through your apartment like smoke, curling around your thoughts, your hips swaying without permission. You hum along, the heat in your chest rising as the lyrics settle in your bones.

You’ve been thinking about what Ryan said all day.

Her words echo between each beat.

“Just breathe with him. Lock eyes. Make him feel you.”

“Cuff him. Take control bitch!”

You step into your bedroom and open the top drawer of your dresser. Leather, silk, mesh—too many choices, not enough nights. Your fingers slide past the usual suspects until you find it—the deep green number with the low-cut front, sheer sides, and barely-there back. The one you bought for no one but yourself.

Until now.

You hold it up to the light. It shimmers like a secret.

Slipping it on feels like slipping into power. The fabric hugs every curve, the lace barely molding to the top of your thick thighs, your waist, your chest. You check your reflection and smirk—you look dangerous. And you like it.

Next comes the black trench coat. You drape it over your shoulders, not bothering to button it. Just enough coverage to make the reveal that much sweeter. And then, the final touch—your black heels. The ones with the thin strap at the ankle and the sharp stiletto that made Jey stare the first time you wore them.

He didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes followed you all night. He whispered things in your ear that made you wet before dessert even hit the table.

You step into the heels now, one foot at a time, and stand tall. Taller than your nerves. Taller than your doubts.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Daddy💚: You still coming or nah?

You smile.

Oh, I’m coming.

After sending a quick reply, you step out of your building with a rhythm in your hips that wasn’t there before.

The night air is cold enough to raise goosebumps along your thighs where the trench coat parts with each stride. The heels click against the pavement like punctuation—each step a promise. When you slide into your dark green Camaro, the leather hugs your thighs like it knows where you’re going. You don’t rush the drive. You savor it.

Pretty Ricky still plays in your head as you cruise through the quiet streets. You roll down the window halfway and let the wind kiss your neck, the city lights reflecting off the hood like a spotlight. You don’t second guess. Not once.

You pull up to Jey’s townhouse and turn off the car. Everything feels heightened for a bit. Like the world knows what’s about to happen.

You shove your hands into the pockets of your trench coat as you climb out. The chill brushes against your legs, teasing you, but your fingers find something warmer. Solid. Familiar. The steel of the handcuffs. The mini key tucked right beside them.

Your heels tap against the concrete walkway as you approach his door.

One knock. Then two. You hear him before you see him—footsteps, a shuffle, a breath—and then the door opens.

Jey stands there with nothing but gray thin sweats and the faintest smirk. His mullet is tousled lightly, his eyes heavy-lidded like he just woke from a nap or a dream he’s hoping you’ll finish. But it’s not his face that steals your breath—it’s the damn happy trail. That faint line of hair disappearing into his waistband, low and inviting.

You bite your lip.

He opens his mouth to speak—but you move first.

You reach up and undo the clasp of your coat with slow, deliberate fingers. The trench parts like curtains, and you reveal the green lace beneath. His eyes darken instantly, jaw twitching.

He leans in, lips parted, about to kiss you.

But you press one finger to his mouth, silencing him.

“I’m in charge tonight,” you whisper.

You slide that same finger down his bottom lip, then press your palm to his chest. He lets you push him backward—his body obedient, eager, confused but turned on as hell. You step in with him, crossing the threshold, and then—click—you swing the door closed behind you with your foot.

Locked in. Lights low.

And just like your favorite anti hero Beetlejuice said.. it’s Showtime.

Jey’s chest rises a little faster now, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip like he wants to test how far he can push you.

But he doesn’t dare.

You step toward him, heels echoing against the tile like a countdown.

“No talking,” you murmur, brushing a hand across his jaw. “No touching. No decisions. Tonight, you’re mine.”

His shoulders drop slightly—not in defeat, but in surrender. His eyes never leave yours.

He nods.

“Use your words,” you say, tracing your nail under his chin.

“Yes mam.” he replies, voice rough and low.

A bolt of heat rushes through you.

“On all fours,” you command softly.

Without hesitation, he drops. His hands and knees press to the floor, palms flat, head bowed. The image steals your breath for a moment—this is what Ryan meant. It’s not just sex. It’s the power of being seen, being trusted. Of having someone so strong, willingly give you the reins.

You slip your hand into his hair—thick, soft, familiar—and curl your fingers around his mullet. You tug, not hard, but just enough.

“Crawl.”

You guide him through the hallway like that, he takes slow steps as he moves ahead of you. He’s quiet, respectful, muscles tense but completely under your control.

You reach the bedroom door and push it open. You tug again. “Up.”

He crawls and climbs onto the bed on his knees and starts to reach for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down—

But your fist tightens in his hair and you yank his head back sharply.

“Did I say you could undress?” you ask, voice calm, ice wrapped in dominance.

His breath catches. “No mam.”

Your lips brush the shell of his ear and kiss it gently.

“Then don’t move unless I tell you to.”

You reach into your trench coat pocket and feel the cold kiss of metal.

Pulling out the cuffs, you dangle them from your finger, letting them sway just enough to catch the light.

“Hands up,” you say softly.

Jey doesn’t hesitate. He lifts his arms above his head, resting his hands against the iron bed frame. His breathing deepens, chest rising and falling with every second you take to secure him.

Click.

Click.

The sounds are final. He’s yours now.

You step back, letting your eyes roam the picture he makes—wrists bound, happy trail exposed, sweatpants still on, obedient and silent. His eyes track your every move, but his body doesn’t flinch.

You walk to the foot of the bed. The room is quiet, pulsing with energy. Then, with a exhale, you undo the belt of your trench coat and let it fall.

Green lace. The sharp lines of your heels. You see his lips part slightly, a twitch in his jaw as he fights the instinct to move.

Good.

You crawl onto the bed, very slowly, every shift of your knee drawing out his anticipation. You swing one leg over his hips and settle down—straddling him, but not rushing. The feel of him beneath you, caged and pulsing, sends a heat through your core.

You rock once. Controlled.

His head tilts back slightly, a moan catching in his throat—but he doesn’t move. He knows better.

You lean forward, chest just brushing his, eyes locked on his.

“You’ve had me submit to you more times than I can count,” you whisper, your voice like brown sugar. “Letting you take, letting you use, letting you guide me…”

You grind again, slower this time. More pressure. More tension.

“…But just for tonight, baby—you submit to me.”

A low, ragged breath escapes him. You feel him twitch beneath you—his sex drive rising fast, cock hardening between you—but he doesn’t buck. Doesn’t thrust. He waits.

Good boy.

You stroke his cheek gently, keeping your hips moving at a rhythm made to drive him mad—deep enough to tease, slow enough to build, cruel enough to keep him tethered.

“You’re doing so well,” you murmur, pressing your forehead to his. “So good for me. Just like this. Just… like… this.”

And still, he doesn’t move. But his entire body is trembling, desperate to give in.

Exactly where you want him.

You keep riding him slow—clothed, torturously so. The rhythm is hypnotic, almost cruel. Each roll of your hips drags that green lace over his hard length, and you feel him throb beneath you, helpless in his bonds. Still, he doesn’t move. Not until you say so.

You lean forward again, your palms pressed flat to his chest, and your eyes find his.

“I’ve wanted this,” you whisper, letting the confession slip between you like a secret. “Not just the power… you. All of you.”

His jaw clenches. His wrists tug against the cuffs, but not in defiance—in desperation.

“I love you,” you say, lips barely brushing his. “I’ve loved you. And I just wanted to get closer. To feel you—slow. Mindful. Real.”

He groans. “Please…”

You tilt your head, lips curling.

“Please what?”

“Please… I need you.”

That makes you smile. A slow, indulgent smile—the kind only someone in total control can wear.

You sit up, grinding just once more, and then lift yourself slightly, teasing the pressure off his length. One hand slides between your thighs, and you tug the lace aside—graceful, confident.

You hover just above the band of his sweats, just over the center of him. Close enough to feel the heat radiate off his skin.

“Is this what you want?” you ask softly, voice sultry but grounded. “Is this the pussy you’ve been craving?”

“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, please…”

You smirk, shifting back so your pussy is no longer aligned with him. Instead, you lower your hips slowly, grinding down on his happy trail, feeling that soft line of hair against your folds, against your thighs.

“Tonight’s about new things,” you purr. “Control. Trust. Devotion.”

You start to move again—hips rolling in that same tantric rhythm, slow and steady, dragging your wetness over his stomach, making him feel what he can’t yet have.

Then you look down at him, eyes molten.

“Will you be my good little submissive?”

His eyes nearly roll back.

“Yes…” he groans.

And you keep riding his happy trail, every grind pulling another gasp from his lips—until even his restraint starts to tremble.

The tension continues to rise and coil inside you...

Each grind down his abdomen—against that soft trail of hair, that delicious heat right above his cock—pulls you closer to the edge. Your lace had somehow been moved back and is soaked. His abs are coated with your precum as it continued to fall, shining under the soft light. The room smells like sex without the penetration. Like restraint about to shatter.

Jey is panting beneath you, eyes glassy, lips parted. You can feel the way his muscles flex under your movements, like he’s trying so hard not to break. But you hear it in his voice when he finally begs.

“Please,” he gasps. “Please let me cum.”

You roll your hips slower, deeper, your thighs tightening around his waist as your breathing stutters.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, voice heavy, sultry. “I’m gonna cum all over your happy trail, baby.”

His head slams back into the pillow, his fists clenching around the cuffs. “Fuck—baby.. let me cum to…”

Your hips move faster now, chasing it—riding it. Your moans slip out without control, and you feel the orgasm building, swirling at the base of your spine.

You lean down, your mouth just above his.

“Cum for me,” you whisper.

He trembles now.

You press your lips to his jaw, your breath hot as you murmur the command:

“Cum.”

That’s all it takes.

Jey chokes out a moan—deep, guttural, undone. His whole body tenses as he releases into his sweats, untouched, hands cuffed, everything surrendered to you. It hits you at the same time—your orgasm crashes through you, hips grinding down, coating his abs, your thighs shaking as you ride out every wave of it.

The room is filled with breathless sound—gasps, broken moans, the sound of your release smearing over his stomach.

You stay there, trembling above him, one hand pressed to his chest, the other gripping the headboard. He’s shaking under you, eyes wet, lips parted.

And neither of you says anything for a moment—because nothing needs to be said.

You exhale slow, your body filled with satisfaction, your heartbeat beginning to settle.

Carefully, you climb off him and sit back on your heels. Your fingers brush against your trench coat, discarded at the edge of the bed, and you find the tiny cuff key tucked in the pocket.

You walk back to him—no more commanding. Just care. You reach up, slotting the key into the cuffs.

Click.

Click.

His hands fall free.

But before you can pull back, he grabs your wrist—gently—and tugs you down onto him. You fall against his chest with a laugh, your body melting into his like muscle memory.

He kisses you.

It’s not demanding. Not teasing. It’s home—a press of lips, full of something that feels like forever.

Then he pulls back, a cocky little smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Leave that tantric shit to my brother and Ry,” he murmured. “We got our own shit.”

You laugh, forehead dropping to his chest. “It was fun handcuffing you though.”

He hums. “Yeah, well…” His fingers trace the curve of your spine. “You’re next, mama.”

You look up at him just as he leans in and kisses you again—deeper this time, but still loving. Still yours.

And when he pulls back, he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“I love you.”

Your breath catches. And then, without hesitation, you whisper it back.

“I love you too.”

[fanbasetwo]

Ꮺ . , SHAMELESS , S.QR !

PAIRING: pervert bf ! ricky × gf ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: you had always known that your bf could be a bit too much at times but if you were being honest, you didn't actually mind it. what you hadn't expected was of him being more perverted than you could've ever imagined in your dreams. [REQUESTED] . . . . . . GENRE: suggestive, drabble. WORD COUNT: 796. [LIBRARY] Ꮺ ten : thirty one

You're walking ahead of Ricky, hips swaying naturally, as his hungry gaze follows your every step. It doesn't bother you, not really, because you know you're just as perverted in your desires. But he's different. He outpaces your perversions, surpassing them in a single, lustful stride.

His mind starts to wander, drifting between your thighs, imagining an eternity trapped there. For him, it is heaven-the ultimate dream destination. It's in the way his eyes linger, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he loses himself in his fantasies.

You have been noticing recently that the stack of panties in your drawer keeps dwindling. A pair gone here, a set vanished there. You did not bother much with it at first. You must have misplaced them or forgotten them in some drawer or tucked them away in some forgotten corner. But then, he started replacing them.

Every time you discovered the deficit, he'd surprise you with new, better panties. Lacy, silky, or soft cotton—it didn't matter. He spoiled you, indulged your every whim. Such a sweetheart, you thought.

But was he?

There it lay, hidden in the remnants of discarded fabric. How they carried still with your scent, how a hint of musk could be detected from the traces of your arousal. There was the scent of Ricky's lust and how he indulged, so twisted and secret.

He was not only replacing the missing pair of panties. He stole them and used them as prizes, jerking into the fabric and painting them with his own release. Your smell, your aroma, becomes some twisted aphrodisiac fueling his darkest fantasies.

He was no sweetheart. He was a thief, a pervert of the highest order. But you couldn't help the thrill that raced down your spine at the thought, the dampness that gathered between your thighs. Because deep down, you knew you wanted him to do it again. And again. And again.

The warm water streamed down your body while your hands caressed every curve of your skin soaped up with soap in the bite marks on the neck, breasts, and inner thighs. Each one remained a reminder of last night's raw passion. You felt the heat of water only make the memories all the more burning, when your body craved just a little more even with the evidence being washed out.

If you hadn't noticed it before, you did now. The little gap in the door from where you saw Ricky, who stands across the room, a picture of brazen desire. His hand, hidden within the confines of his jeans, moves with a purposeful, rhythmic motion. It's clear what he's doing, the lewd act concealed but not truly secret. His eyes, once again, betray him.

A guttural, muffled “Fuck” is wrung from his lips, the word lost to the steamy air and the sound of the waterfalls. Even without the audible confirmation, you know him intimately, and his pleasure is as familiar to you as your own reflection.

As he spills himself, his release seeping into the fabric of his boxers, he allows himself a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. His eyes flutter shut, a look of utter contentment etched onto his handsome face. But it's fleeting.

They snap open, his eyes darting right to you as if by magnet. There, in the small slit in the door, only big enough to be almost an oversight, he can see you. And you can see him seeing you.

His eyes scan your wet body, shameless in their appreciation. They linger on the curves he knows so well, the peaks and valleys sculpted by your natural beauty and the passion you share. His gaze burns a trail from the top of your head down to your toes, pausing at every tempting inch in between.

He gives you a look that's as sheepish as it is lustful. A smile tugs at his lips, crooked and full of mischief. It's the grin of a man who knows he's been caught, but couldn't possibly be more pleased about it.

As he watches, his eyes go to your towel, not blinking, as you start to dry yourself, and he follows the route of the towel with an imagination of how the absorbent fabric would feel on your skin, wishing his hands were there.

He's a sweetheart, in his own twisted, insatiable way. He indulges your every whim, worships your body with a fervor that borders on reverence. But he's also a thief, a pervert, a man consumed by his own dark, lustful desires.

And as you lock eyes through the gap in the door, you realize that you wouldn't have him any other way. His shamelessness is part of what draws you to him, the key ingredient in the recipe of your relationship.

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