#also. off-screen. since i never actually made a post for it

[simplygojo]

Friend-Of-A-Friend ⸺ Chapter Ten

author's note ⸺ hey GANG I hope ur all doing well! Tysm for all the messages I actually LOVEEE yapping with u so pls don’t stop…also I have posted the dates of the upcoming chapters on the series master list if you’re interested hehe >.< pairing ⸺ Suguru Geto x Reader content ⸺ corporate-worker!reader, emotional tension, modern au, the good-ole-days trope, reader uses female pronouns, smoking mentioned(weed + cigs), reader is being spontaneous... taglist at end, 4.2k, this is an 18+ series - mdni

divider credit: @/toastray ୨୧ art credit: @/juziluohai

previous chapter ୨୧ series masterlist ୨୧ next chapter

You hadn’t meant to ignore him. Not really. But somehow, two days had passed without a response.

Monday night, you’d fallen asleep embarrassingly early—half-dressed and on top of the covers, one arm still crooked over your eyes.

And Tuesday…Tuesday was one of those days that just swallowed you whole and drained your social battery. Work was nonstop, your inbox a mess, and you’d ended up meeting your parents for dinner because they happened to be in town. 

Since moving out to the city after graduating, you’d often felt caught between places—never exactly out of place, but never fully settled either. 

It was like living in a space that was both familiar and somehow off, a quiet dissonance you couldn’t quite name. 

You missed home, sure, but when you visited, it didn’t feel quite the same anymore. The last while, that feeling of being “home” seemed just out of reach to you.

Nevertheless, you had a good night with your parents. The night ended with wine, too much laughter, a weirdly long hug from your mother, and a slow walk back to your place in shoes that weren’t built for walking.

By the time you’d made it upstairs, peeled off your clothes, and washed your face, it was already too late—and you didn’t want to open the message again.

Didn’t want to see his name glowing up at you like that. 

Not when you didn’t know what to say. Not when the weight of not saying anything had grown legs and learned to sit in your chest like it paid rent.

And now it was Wednesday.

You stepped out of the mirror-lined elevator, one hand trailing down the front of your coat as the doors sighed shut behind you. 

You stepped out of the mirror-lined elevator, one hand trailing down the front of your coat as the doors sighed shut behind you. 

The hallway greeted you with its usual hush, carpet soft beneath your shoes, the scent of fresh coffee already curling in the air. It was an ordinary morning, in theory.

Your cubicle looked the same as always—chair slightly askew, two pens missing from your holder, a yellow sticky note curling at the edge like it couldn’t be bothered to stay attached. You dropped your bag onto the floor, shrugged off your coat, and sank into the chair with a sigh that came from somewhere deep.

And then you pulled out your phone.

Enough was enough. You were so over the weird limbo of waiting to text him back. So over tiptoeing around a conversation that already had one foot in the door.

You knew exactly what to send him.

Without letting yourself overthink it, you opened Spotify. Thumb steady now, you scrolled down until you found it—the playlist. That playlist. The one you’d made in a different version of your life, with soft evenings and quiet corners baked into every track.

You tapped the three dots.

Selected Share.

Copied link.

Then you flicked over to your messages app. Suguru’s name was still there, second from the top, bolded. That last message staring back at you.

You pressed it open. Pasted the link into the text bar and pressed send.

You locked your phone without another thought and placed it face-down on your desk, like that might stop the ripple it sent through your chest.

Somewhere outside your cubicle, the printer sputtered to life. Phones rang. The world went on.

You had barely taken a sip of your coffee when your phone buzzed.

Once.

Then again.

The screen lit up with his name.

Geto: Wow. Another soul sliver, I see?

Geto: Now I’ve got something worthwhile to listen to while pretending to work. thanks

Your hand stayed still on the desk for a moment, fingers curled loosely around the mug. Heat pressed against your palm, but your attention didn’t move from the screen.

A small shift behind your ribs—tight, quiet.

The tiniest pull at one side of your mouth as your thumb lifted.

You: Don’t act like you weren’t waiting for it.

He was typing before your message even cleared the screen.

Geto: I wasn’t.

Geto: I’d accepted the silent treatment as my fate.

Geto: This is unexpected.

Your jaw moved slightly, a bite pressing down in the inside of your cheek. Not hard. Just enough.

You: Well…you're welcome for the emotional enrichment

Geto: Real generous of you…

Geto: I’ll take my time—can’t go burning through a whole soul-sliver at once.

Geto: Not every guy gets access like this, after all…

You let your phone rest on the desk for a beat, screen angled just enough that you could still see it. Across the room, someone dropped a stack of papers. The hum of the copy machine clicked on and off. A slice of laughter from the break room cut through, then faded.

Your thumb ran along the edge of the phone once, slow.

Then the last message arrived.

Geto: What are you doing after work?

There it was.

No punctuation. No build-up. Just weight, landing soft.

The tension that had held you upright all morning shifted. Not gone—but different now. Redistributed. Heavier in your hands. Lighter between your shoulders. 

Your posture didn’t change, but something underneath it did.

Picking up the phone, you answered honestly. 

Picking up the phone, you answered honestly.

You: Normally I’d say nothing.

You: But the last few days have been non-stop…I think I just need a night in.

You watched the bubble shift to “Delivered,” then locked the screen again, phone flat beside your keyboard.

A few minutes passed like that. No response.

You started working through your inbox—subject lines blending into each other, everything flagged as urgent when it wasn’t. Your fingers moved on autopilot, skimming, archiving, drafting. At some point you picked up your mug again, but the coffee had gone cold.

Your eyes drifted back to your phone more than once.

Maybe you’d read the tone wrong. Or maybe it didn’t mean anything to begin with.

You weren’t even sure why you were still thinking about it.

Then your screen lit up again.

Geto: Totally fair but

Geto: Any chance you want company anyway? You know I’m pretty quiet.

Geto: Thai food on me??

You didn’t answer right away.

There was a quiet kind of intention in the way he phrased it. No pressure, no expectation—just laid out with that offhand tone he always used. 

But Suguru wasn’t someone who invited himself over. He valued his space, liked to get use out of it. So for him to invite himself over on a random Wednesday—easy, but deliberate—landed heavier than it looked.

Your eyes traced the words twice. A warmth stirred in your chest—not giddy, not flustered. Just steady. Like something settling into place.

You: Okay fine, only if you know a place that actually puts flavour in their khao soi…

Geto: Do you even have to ask…I’ll bring the good stuff

You: Okay. Door’s open after 7 :)

Geto: Noted. I’ll knock anyway

Geto: Feels rude not to

You set your phone down, but didn’t look away from it right away.

Somewhere beyond the fabric of your cubicle wall, your manager’s voice called out a reminder for the 10:30 client call—half-chipper, half-stressed. Another email dropped into your inbox a beat later, its notification blinking in the corner of your screen. 

The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a washed-out glow across your desk, soft against the backs of your hands.

You dragged your chair in closer, fingers moving to the trackpad as you pulled up your briefing notes for the day. Line items. Status updates. A spreadsheet you'd updated three times this week already. Your cursor hovered, then moved with purpose. 

The first few slides needed cleaning up. 

A title needed shortening. Someone had left a comment in red that didn’t even make sense.

You got to work.

The rhythm came back slowly—scroll, revise, adjust spacing, add bullet points. Fingers tapping into a groove that didn’t ask for much thought. The shape of the day began to reassemble itself around you, familiar and structured. Your breathing levelled out.

But even in the middle of that—beneath the sharp clicks of your keyboard and the low hum of someone’s phone call two desks over—something still stirred just beneath your ribs.

You adjusted a chart. Added a footnote. Reworded a sentence that didn’t need fixing. Then glanced at the time.

Only 9:23.

You exhaled slowly through your nose and clicked into the next slide.

But it kept happening. Every few minutes, your eyes flicked back to the bottom-right corner of the screen. 

9:33…9:41… 9:53…10:07…get a grip…

Your coffee had gone cold by then. You didn’t get up for a new one. Just sat there, staring at bullet points you couldn’t remember writing, watching the cursor blink on an empty line like it had something to say.

Your mind wouldn’t stay put.

It kept folding back to him—soft and uninvited. It felt like a damn fly that just won't stop landing on you.

His voice in your head again: dry, amused, a little too smooth for how offhanded he always pretended to be. 

You could still hear the way he said things—slightly under his breath, like you weren’t always supposed to catch it.

That night on your balcony drifted into view. The smoke. The silence between sentences. The mug with the space cat. 

The way he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking, but you were…Maybe he knew that and watched anyway, you didn't know.

He was quiet about it. Always had been. Not loud in the ways people usually tried to be with you.

No—he lingered.

And now, here he was again. Not even in the room, but still—lingering. Threaded into your morning like background static. Like something you’d left on by accident.

This is just like him—to hang around in your thoughts like this.

Unrushed. Comfortable. Like he had nowhere else to be.

You minimized the briefing deck, reopened your inbox.

There was still half a day ahead of you. A call to prep for. Notes to clean up. Three emails flagged “urgent” that clearly weren’t they never were.

But under all of it—beneath the noise and the deadlines and the digital clutter—one thing sat clear and steady:

He was coming over to your apartment.

And your stomach wouldn’t stop catching on that fact.

Not nerves. Not panic.

Just something sharper than anticipation. A weightless little knot at the center of your chest, tugging every so often. Quiet. Persistent.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

The day had really turned around for you.

It started small—your inbox clearing faster than expected, the 10:30 call going smoothly, even the printer working on the first try. 

And then, right before you left, your favourite coworker who wasn’t in for a few days handed you a loaf of fresh sourdough, wrapped in wax paper and still faintly warm.

“Made an extra,” she said. “Thought you could use it.”

You didn’t argue.

Now, riding the subway home, the bread sat tucked in your tote, rosemary and salt lingering faintly in the air. 

You stood near the center pole, one hand curled around the metal, the other resting lightly on the strap of your bag. The car wasn’t crowded, but full enough that the space buzzed with soft movement—shoulders shifting, someone clearing their throat, the distant tinny bleed of someone’s music through their headphones.

The train rocked gently beneath your feet. Your weight adjusted with it, knees bending instinctively at each turn.

Your eyes moved without really seeing—past the ads, the streaked windows, the scrolling station names overhead.

Your phone was still in your pocket. No new messages. But it didn’t bother you this time. That quiet, steady feeling was still there—somewhere low in your stomach. Not jittery. Not uncertain. Just a kind of slow, warm anticipation.

You’d said yes. He was coming over.

And for the first time in a while, something about that felt simple.

Not easy, maybe. But uncomplicated. No second-guessing. Just something waiting at the end of the day.

The train slowed. You looked up.

Two more stops.

And then the walk home.

And then him.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

The lock clicked shut behind you, soft and familiar, and you let your keys drop into the bowl by the door with a sound that always marked the end of the day. Your apartment greeted you the way it always did—dim, quiet, a little cool from the window you’d cracked that morning for air.

You moved automatically. Shoes off. Coat shrugged down your arms. Work bag unshouldered and dropped by the couch, its usual resting place like muscle memory. But before you even made it that far, you stopped in the kitchen and unzipped your tote.

The loaf came out last—wax paper warm against your fingers, scent of rosemary and salt unfurling like it had been waiting. 

You stood there a moment, hand still resting beside it.

Then you sighed, turned toward the hallway.

Your reflection caught you off guard as you passed the mirror.

Nothing major—just the slight smudge at the outer edge of your eyeliner, the way your foundation had begun to settle around your nose. Your lipstick, barely there now. A long day’s worth of wear.

You paused.

Most nights, you’d wash your face the second you got home. Hair up, makeup off, cleanser and cool water with a clean, blank feeling afterward.

But tonight…you hesitated.

Suguru was coming over.

And that meant something. Even if it wasn’t a thing, exactly. Even if you weren’t calling it anything. Even if the whole thing was wrapped in casual words and nonchalance and Thai food.

Still. He was coming over.

Your fingers lingered near your temple. Not to fix anything. Just thinking.

It would be easy to leave it on. Just in case. Just to keep that tiny layer of armour. Lip balm, a little colour, a softened line around the eye—something to catch the low kitchen light a certain way.

You stared at yourself a beat longer.

But then you shook your head—small, firm. Almost amused with yourself.

No.

He’s seen you without makeup before. Plenty of times. 

Late movie nights with Gojo. Sunday mornings when you forgot to care. After swimming. After crying. 

Suguru had been there more times than you cared to notice until now.

This wasn’t new. You didn’t owe him a version of you polished at the edges.

You turned the bathroom light on, pulled your hair back, and began your usual routine. Cleanser, water, rinse. The feeling of a soft towel pressed to your face. Your skin underneath felt cooler now. Clean. Unhidden.

You stood there for a moment longer, fingers still damp against the edge of the sink. 

Then, without giving yourself time to overthink it, you peeled your clothes off—layer by layer—and stepped into the shower.

It wasn’t about being presentable.

It was about the day sliding off you, down the drain with the heat and the steam and the tension that had wound itself around your shoulders. You stood under the water until your muscles started to uncoil, until the thoughts quieted, until you could feel yourself again.

No scrubbing. No ritual. Just warmth on your back and a moment to exhale.

You dried off slowly. Pulled on something soft and worn—cotton against clean skin—and padded barefoot back to the mirror.

After smoothing on a fresh layer of moisturizer, you then reached for the one thing you never skipped—your tinted lip balm. 

Not makeup, not really. Just a touch of colour, and you used it religiously—if you could afford to buy one hundred tubes of it, you would.

A final step. A signal that the day was done, and you were back in your body again.

And when you stepped back into the hallway, you didn’t look in the mirror again.

You had no reason to impress him.

And besides—he was already coming over. Just as a friend.

Just as Suguru.

You moved through the apartment in slow, familiar steps, the quiet after the shower settling over you.

In the bedroom, you changed into something casual—comfortable enough to feel like yourself. Nothing styled. Nothing planned. Just what you’d wear on any night in.

Back in the living room, you crossed to the shelf near the window and pulled out your incense tin. You picked a stick without thinking too hard—something light, familiar—and lit the end. After a few seconds, you blew it out, letting the smoke drift upward in slow, lazy curls.

The scent spread gently through the space, warm and steady.

You turned on the lamp beside the couch—soft light, easy on the eyes—and took a step back.

Everything felt still.

Not perfect. Not staged.

But ready.

You crossed to the kitchen, poured yourself a glass of water, and leaned back against the counter, letting the quiet settle a little deeper into your skin. The light from the lamp caught on the edge of the glass, refracting small, watery shapes onto the floor.

After a moment, you picked up your phone to check the time.

6:46.

Still early.

You were just about to set it back down when the screen lit up with a new message.

Geto: On my way

Another one followed almost instantly—a photo this time.

You tapped it open.

It was a quick, close shot: his hand holding a folded-over brown paper takeout bag, knuckles curled around the handles. The background was nothing—sidewalk, a bit of concrete, maybe his coat sleeve just barely in frame—but your eyes caught on the smallest details without meaning to.

The soft dip of veins along the inside of his wrist. The way his rings—two of them, one heavier-looking than the other—sat neatly at the base of his fingers. His nails were clean. His grip relaxed.

He had… nice hands.

You blinked, screen still glowing in your palm.

You hadn’t meant to notice, really. But the image lingered for a second longer than necessary before you locked your phone and set it down, a little slower this time.

The scent of incense still drifted through the room, sweet and woody. Outside, a car passed with its headlights skating across your blinds. You glanced toward the door without moving.

He’d be here any minute now, and you really hoped that he remembered your khao soi…

The apartment felt still, but your nerves had started to hum again—quiet, low..

You crossed back into the living room, picked up your phone again, and tapped it awake. Opened Spotify. 

Scrolled past the ones you usually kept to yourself—the sad ones, the overthought ones—and settled on the playlist you’d made without any real theme. Just the kind of music that made the room feel like yours.

You connected to the speaker tucked on the shelf and turned the volume down low. Just enough to soften the silence.

The first track floated in, slow and steady. The kind of sound that felt like a room you wanted to stay in. Something with a soft beat, warm vocals, nothing that asked for too much attention.

You let it play. Let it settle.

Then you crossed to the couch and straightened the throw without thinking. Tucked a stray slipper under the edge of the coffee table. Wiped a nonexistent crumb from the counter.

And before you could check the time again—there it was. A knock.

Not loud. Not rushed.

Just two quiet taps, measured and certain.

He was early.

You didn’t move at first. Not startled—just still. Like something had clicked into place a beat sooner than expected. A flicker of something low in your chest, not quite nerves, not quite thrill. Just there.

A breath caught in your throat. You let it go. Then moved.

You crossed the floor, your socks making your steps soundless on the rug, and paused with your hand on the doorknob. 

You opened the door, and there he was.

Suguru stood there, completely oblivious that he just sent your stomach into a full somersault ten minutes ago. 

Jacket open, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans, the other holding the takeout bag by its twisted paper handles. The warm scent of curry and lemongrass drifted up between you, carried in on the quiet of the hallway.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours. Calm, unreadable, but steady.

“Hi,” he said, voice low. Almost too casual. Like this wasn’t something. Like this was normal.

Your fingers tightened slightly around the doorknob. “You’re early.”

His mouth pulled at one corner—not quite a smile, but close enough to make your pulse skip. “Couldn’t help it. The place was faster than I thought.”

He stepped past you without needing permission, brushing by in a way that left the faintest trail of his cologne in the air—clean, a little woodsy, something familiar now. The door clicked shut behind him as you turned.

He dropped the bag on the counter, casual, already at home in the space.

You caught yourself watching the way his hand moved—how the veins in his wrist shifted as he let go of the handle, how the silver rings on his fingers caught the low kitchen light. 

There was something absurdly specific about it. The easy way his fingers flexed. The way they looked as if they’d been sculpted with quiet intention.

You looked away.

He glanced around once, slow. Took in the low lighting, the haze of incense smoke curling from the windowsill, the soft music still murmuring from the speaker before his gaze found yours once again.

“You went full ambience,” he said, voice low. Almost amused.

“Don’t act surprised. I like it when my place feels like mine. Always been a big decorator… don't you remember my place at school?”

There was a pause—quiet but not empty. You watched his expression shift, subtle as always. A small crease appeared between his brows, like the memory had come faster than he expected. Like it caught him a little off guard.

“Your old place…” he said, voice lower now. “Yeah. This feels the same.”

His eyes moved slowly around the room again, but you could tell he wasn’t really looking at the walls or the incense or the books. 

He was remembering something else. Maybe the cracked window frame in your university apartment that you simply never fixed. Maybe the crooked shelf you insisted on keeping there as a ‘happy accident’. Or maybe you, sitting cross-legged on a thrifted couch, light from the hallway bending around you.

He looked back at you.

“Feels like you.”

Then he nodded once, like that was answer enough, and turned to tear the tape off the bag. “Hope you’re still into spicy food. I didn’t hold back.”

“Bold of you,” you said, walking over, “assuming I’ve gone weak in the time we’ve been apart.”

“Mmm. Could never picture that,” he replied without looking up.

You watched as he pulled out a few plastic containers, setting them side by side. And your eyes were locked in on your khao soi, which was smelling ever so fragrant. He popped open a lid and peeked inside, making a small, approving noise. 

“Still hot.”

You grabbed two forks and two spoons from the drawer beside Suguru, handing one set over without thinking. 

Your hands brushed, briefly, the way they always seemed to lately—casual, but not quite forgettable.

Suguru stacked the warm containers in his arms and moved toward the living area. The fabric of his black sweatshirt shifted with him—soft-looking, slightly worn at the cuffs. 

His jeans hung low on his hips, baggy in that way that looked thoughtless but never quite careless, the denim faded in places which made them seem more lived in. He crouched beside the low table, setting the containers down with a soft thud before lowering himself to the rug. 

Cross-legged, back loose against the couch, one arm draped over his knee—comfortable, effortless. 

He looked good like that. Familiar. 

A little too easy to look at.

“Should we use plates?” You said, watching him from the kitchen.

Suguru shrugged with a sly grin, tilting his head like it was the most obvious logic in the world.

“I mean, there’s a first time for everything,” he said, deadpan. “But why waste clean dishes when the containers are already doing the heavy lifting?” 

You smiled, shaking your head as if amused by the effortless ease of his logic. “Yeah,” you said quietly, “that sounds about right.”

It felt so natural, this back-and-forth, the kind of simple comfort of his presence you didn’t realize you’d missed. Normally, you avoided people when you were drained—too tired to carry any weight but your own—but if there was one person who never took from your well, it was Suguru.

Your eyes met his for a moment, and there was no need to say it out loud. You both understood.

With a small, knowing smile, you settled down across from him on the floor, the warm scent of the Thai aromas filling the space between you. The room felt softer somehow—like the quiet in between storms, safe and familiar.

And just like that, you were home again.

taglist ⸺ @killak9mi; @nikilig; @pinkhoneydrop; @armfloaties; @sat-hoe-ru; @kaqua; @rriwyu; @erenspersonalwh0re; @dishs0pe; @rwirxles; @yourname-exee; @pyruvic; @marianaz; @you-transfix-me; @simplyyyuji; @zoldyi; @linaaeatsfamilies; @anuncalledbridge; @aseqan; @starmapz; @nina-from-317; @kang-ulzzang; @hashahasha; @maybe-a-bi-witch; @zeunys; @pandabiene5115; @shibataimu; @enchantinghonymoon; @gradmacoco; @re-tired-succubus; @aspiring-bookworm; @idkidk32; @paintedperidot; @yourfavbabigirl; @tellria; @ruby-dubydu; @susanhill; @arabellasolstice; @getosshampoo; @xoxoblueyy; @bxnfire; @ayumilk; @hanatsuki-hime; @aldebrana; @jomijase1622; @garden0fyves; @luvaerina; @clearalienjudgeartisan; @smskhee; @vertigoswan; @blackstxnszz; @getoe1s; @goonforgeto; **please note: if your name is striked out, that means I was unable to tag you, please check your settings if you'd like to be tagged**

[kyeomofhearts]

Bed Wars | J.WW

+ summary: after spending countless hours building a house for your boyfriend... you're suddenly met with his bed placed right next to yours? what the hell man! + pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader + word count: 800~ + content: fluff, established relationship, they're just playing minecraft lol, reader likes to bicker.

[ᝰ.ᐟ] happy valentine's day!!! thought i would post something small to celebrate since i didn't post for last year's valentine's day. also i would like to (unfortunately) thank @cherry-zip for bullying me into posting this on time! hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! <3 (borders made by @enchanthings !)

"C’mon dude,” you groaned, staring at the sight in front of you. “I made you a house for a reason!”

Wonwoo’s response? Moving his bed right next to yours. 

“Well, I want to sleep here,” he stated simply.

You let out an annoyed sigh, arms crossed. “Like, seriously? The colors don’t even match!”

Wonwoo only giggled, enjoying your frustration with him. “What are you talking about? My purple bed goes perfectly with your pink one. Also, what if a creeper spawns in my house—how will you ever hear my cries for help?”

Your eye twitched at his insistence. God, he was so annoying. “Now, why would a creeper spawn in your house?” 

“You never know, I’ve seen it happen before.” 

“Fine. I’ll move out then,” you said, quickly destroying your bed and leaving the house. You weren’t even bothered enough to take anything from your chests.

The two of you continued playing in silence for a few minutes. It’s not like you were actually mad or anything… but it was fun to start a meaningless fight with Wonwoo. 

In the meantime, you explored the surrounding biomes in hopes of finding a suitable place to make a new house. Well, more like a camp. (Your house was way too pretty for you to simply abandon.)

After a few more minutes of silence, Wonwoo began to message you in the game.

[gam3bo1: where are you :(]

[gam3bo1: i miss youuuuu]

[gam3bo1: answer me!]

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, turning to look at you from his monitor, eyes filled with faux innocence.

You scoffed. “Oh, no. Not at all. I just love how you’re completely ignoring the fact that I built a whole house for you, and yet, you insist on staying in my house!”

Wonwoo let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, it's not my fault my house feels so… lonely.” 

You rolled your eyes as he spoke, but he didn’t stop there. Who would’ve known that he was going to be this pouty.

“Look, our babies miss you too.” He waved you down to look over at his screen.

To your disappointment, curiosity got the better of you. “This better be–” Your voice cut off at the sight of your pets. 

All of your in-game pets–the dogs, cats, and even the random parrot you found in a jungle biome a few weeks back–were all sitting obediently inside your home. Wonwoo had conveniently placed them all in front of his bed, having them turned to look at the empty space–where your bed used to be. 

You narrowed your eyes upon realizing the little stunt he was trying to pull on you. “You’re trying to manipulate me into going back home!”

Wonwoo gasped. “I would never do such a thing!”

After a few moments of pure laughter, you finally gave in. You could never stay mad at him for too long. 

“...Fine, I’ll come back.” You huffed out, finally turning back to your monitor and making your way back home.

As you neared your house, something new caught your eye.

Behind your house, was a small, heart-shaped garden. The ground was tiled in a red-and-pink checkered pattern, carefully placed block by block. Peonies and roses filled the garden’s corners, their colors nicely decorating the huge heart in the middle. In front of the heart sat a small seating area just for the two of you.

“Oh.”

“I made it while you were ignoring me,” Wonwoo said, his voice suddenly next to your ear.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard. It was… annoyingly cute.

You continued to move around, stepping onto the checkered flooring and admiring the little details he had placed all around. It was cute.

“...You built me a garden?” you asked softly.

Wonwoo hummed. “I might have had help from a few tutorials, but yeah. I wanted to make a spot for us.” 

And unsurprisingly, your stomach did an embarrassing flip.

Wonwoo went back over to his desk, quickly moving his player to sit on one of the chairs in the garden. Following him, you sat down in the chair in front of him, and before you could even say anything he beat you to it.

“I just thought our shared house could use a little extra love. You know, since we obviously live together.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as Wonwoo laughed triumphantly beside you. He just had to ruin the moment! 

“Now c’mon, let’s go to bed,” he said as he pressed ‘Save and Exit’. By the time you reached the main menu, Wonwoo was already pulling you away from your desk.

“I’m never building you anything ever again,” you muttered, body betraying you as you leaned into him on your shared bed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “And yet you still let me sleep next to you.” 

You wanted to argue, but sleep was already pulling you away. “Mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

[enjoythebutterflies33]

✮ What happened to hello | Lando Norris ✮

Summary: Quick little drabbled based on all the speculation of Lando getting a bad haircut because he wore his hat so much at the Mexican GP

word count: 848

a/n: I haven't wrote in a long time so I'm pretty rusty, go easy on me! I also wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to wrap up the ending, so yeah, sorry for that!

“Take the hat off Lando” You playfully demand with a squint of your eyes as soon as Lando’s face appears on your laptop screen. 

You’re currently on day 14 of being apart since Lando left for the triple-header and it’s eating you both alive. You haven’t been apart for longer than seven days at a time, in almost a year. Everyone around you, even the fans, call you two codependent, but really, you were just in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible. 

Between the time zone differences and you both working so much, you’ve found it difficult to spend much time together. You’ve found comfort in being able to keep up with Lando from all of the fan and official F1 content posted online. 

You’ve gotten a giggle out of all the speculation surrounding Lando’s hair. It started on the first media day in Mexico, when it appeared Lando had gotten a haircut, but his hat stayed on the entire day. 

The next day was when the rumors actually started, Lando hadn’t taken his hat off again and every fan you came across was freaking out and cracking jokes that Lando got a bad haircut and was embarrassed about it. 

Initially, aside from enjoying all the posts, you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming Lando was mostly wearing the hat because of the heat; but then you realized Lando hadn’t sent you any photos without the hat on, and the handful of late night facetimes you had, he was already in bed with his hoodie up and it was mostly dark. 

Whenever you and Lando are apart, you always made sure to keep each other still included in the day to day parts of your lives; you were always sending photos, videos and voice notes until you could facetime or be with each other again. 

Lando hadn’t changed your familiar routine, he just never had hair showing, which was a little odd, but nothing concerning. You admittingly missed the post shower selfies or the sweaty, messy haired, tired post race selfies. 

You’re instantly met with a giggle from Lando “What happened to hello baby.” Lando’s sat in his drivers room, he’d got a couple hours break between practice and qualifying and wanted to make the most of your shared free time to squeeze in a quick facetime with you.

“Hello baby” You grinned cheekily. “I’ve missed you so much, did you get a bad haircut?” You giggled 

Lando raised an eyebrow as another giggle slipped past his lips. “Did I get a bad haircut?” 

You nodded quickly “You haven’t taken your hat off the entire time you’ve been in Mexico, so show me”

“And how would you know that, hmm?” Lando asked with a smirk. Lando was initially confused, but now all he wanted was to play into the fun he was having. 

A bright rosy blush crept up your cheeks as you briefly glanced away from Lando on the screen. Lando’s now grinning mischievously, enjoying getting to tease you. “Do I need to talk to Osc or have you been creeping on me?” 

Before you even get a chance to answer, Lando starts giggling again and shaking his head. You pout and cross your arms. “A bad haircut is the only explanation for the hat and not getting my selfies”

“Your selfies?” Lando questions, once again raising an eyebrow. He knows exactly what selfies you’re talking about, but one thing about Lando Norris is that he loves to tease his girlfriend.

“I want my post race selfies back Lando” 

Lando smiles widely, taking a moment to take in all of your soft sweet features. Lando hadn’t intentionally been keeping anything from you, the few days he had been in Mexico had been busier than usual and it slipped his mind. “I’m sorry my love, I promise you’ll get one after quali”

“I better” You murmur, arms still crossed against your chest. You did miss the selfies, but you weren’t actually annoyed with him, in fact any feelings that even remotely resembled annoyance or hurt from the past few days all stem from a place of missing Lando. 

Lando knows you better than you know yourself, so he knows that if he doesn’t do something in the next few minutes, the call is going to take a sharp turn from playful and fun to somber and probably leave at least one of you in tears. Neither you or Lando were one to shy away from your emotions, but if Lando could hold off on it, until he could guarantee you his undivided love and attention, that's what he’s going to do. 

Lando winks at you, before taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. “Is that better my love?”

A small gasp passes your lips, before you break out into the widest smile that Lando had seen in weeks. “Lando!” You squeal happily. “You look so handsome, why have you been hiding your hair?”

“I haven’t been hiding my hair, you doughnut,” Lando laughed. “It’s hot and I like my hat”

[scrub456]

Full disclosure: life has been hard lately, and my head space has not been great. That's why what I'm about to share has me livid.

It's been a while since I checked my comments on AO3, and oh gosh, look there's a new one! I open it up to see this...

Now, I've been around for a while. I know spam/bot when I see one, so I took this screen shot, marked it as spam, and almost just moved on with my day. But then I got to thinking...

I'm NOT in a great head space. If I hadn't been aware of this sort of garbage comment, this would have DESTROYED me. Heck, if I had gotten this comment on one of my first posted fics, back when life wasn't quite so hard, it would've seriously made me consider shutting myself off and never posting again.

And that made me so unbelievably angry.

Because I just know there are other authors and artists out there who are getting these same comments. People who are young and just getting started, and easily swayed by the opinions of others. Or individuals who are struggling, for whatever reason, and every word or brush stroke is a hard won fight, and need even just the tiniest validation that their effort is worth continuing. And broken ones who are looking for any reason at all to either get up or quit. (Don't quit. Please don't quit.)

I know this type of post has been written before; I have shared it multiple times, but the authors and artists out there, just know, your voice matters, your view of the world is unique and beautiful and necessary. Don't let who you are be swayed by the opinions of others, most especially soulless spam/bots who don't know you, don't see the heart and creativity you've poured into your work, and most importantly, HAVE NOT EVEN READ/VIEWED WHAT IT COMMENTED ON.

You want proof that these vile comments are unfounded, meaningless, steaming piles of putrid sewage? The above comment was posted on chapter 27 of my Inktober 2024 collection on AO3. This is a screen shot of that entire chapter:

There are no cliffhangers, no dramatics, nothing. Just 27 chapters of fan art. Drawings. It's not in any way a cohesive story, rather an eclectic collection of prompt fills featuring multiple and varying fandoms.

The hate fueled spam/bot is just that. Not worth my time, effort, or even the brain capacity I have given it. It doesn't care who I am, it's job is to post venom and destroy. The thing is, I learned long ago to not care about it either. My main reason for this post is to try to reach the authors and artists out there who have maybe fallen victim to these types of comments, and to let them know that they aren't alone in receiving these messages. Don't fall for it. Don't let the words take up any space in your creative mind and lovely heart.

And just in case you aren't sure what you're looking at when it comes to spam/bot comments, here are a few clear clues...

1. These comments can be positive too, but look for context. Does any of what the comment says actually apply to your work? Does it address specific details? Or are the 'details' it addresses details that actually appear in your story? (I.e. - cliffhangers in my collection of drawings).

2. Is the commenter a 'guest' profile? Now, not all guest profiles are bots, there are lovely people out there who, for their own personal reasons, have opted not to create user profiles, but still love fandom. But, a lot of (though not all) spam/bot profiles are guest profiles. And you can usually tell the difference just by the content of the comment. The below comment was a guest profile also left on Inktober 2024. It's simple, specific, and greatly appreciated.

3. The spam/bot comments are usually of a longer nature, extremely vague in regards to addressing what it is that is likeable or hateful about the post, and they go overboard with the language (excessive adjectives) used to prove their point. If you want to see other specific examples to look out for, I recommend doing a Tumblr search of "ao3 spam."

4. If you receive a comment that is questionable, and there is actually a user profile attached, check out the profile. Almost all of these spam/bot profiles are brand new (like, same day as you publish), and/or completely blank - as in, no used details, nothing published, nothing bookmarked, nothing at all.

5. Good or bad, always report spam/bots. Sites like AO3 and Tumblr are aware of the situation, and any reports they receive can help them take steps to protect legitimate users.

6. If the spam/bot offers a money-making situation, offers to pay you for use of your creation, or asks for money in any way, shape, or form, report it immediately. AO3 has very strict guidelines about not using the site for monetization. Also, if it seems too good to be true... it is.

I don't know if anyone will even read all of this. But if you do, I want you to know that I am posting this from a place of vulnerability, knowing how much a comment such as the ugly one above, timed just right (or wrong), would have destroyed me. The only reason it didn't this time was because I was armed with knowledge. I hope this post helps you. I hope you have a peaceful day. I hope your words or your art come easy. I hope you know how brave you are for sharing pieces of you with an uncertain world. I hope you keep going. 💙

[rimatsu]

I feel like the mood among the bucktommies has changed once again, it was more hopeful and now it seems like it's more in the phases between bargaining and acceptance, as if a reconciliation was already out of the realm of great possibilities.

I don't know if this is just because of the renewal, which I find kind of absurd since the renewal was already a sure thing, or if the last episode + the lack of any mention of Tommy after 811, made people less convinced that the show will deliver something narratively satisfying. I don't know, I personally end up being affected by these waves of reality/negativity and my expectations have also lowered again.

What do you think? Has anything changed in your expectations for a reconciliation? Do you have any hopeful words to share?

i'll be honest, i don't understand how doom and gloom can still persist given everything we know about upcoming episodes. i've said it before and i'll say it again: the 806 press debacle (wrong buzzer noise) made the bucktommy troops entirely too cynical. there's being cautious, and then there's being unhelpfully pessimistic. as per previous tags: please be serious 😭😭😭

nothing that we’re seeing unfold on screen (and off-screen for that matter when it comes to leaks) points toward closure — quite the opposite, actually. and the simplest explanation is usually the correct one: if it feels like the third act of a romcom, it probably is one.

alright, this is going to be long, and redundant, so please bear with me as i try to convince stubborn doubters that a reconciliation is in fact very, very likely.

first things first... tommy is officially an outlier in buck's romantic history. let's review the facts, shall we?

in order of narrative importance:

- ali was arguably the most underdeveloped LI of this list. dating her was a decision made in an effort not to regress to past behaviors and she brought buck to his loft. ultimately she couldn't handle the risks of the job and broke up with him in the s2 finale. ali got one mention post-breakup

- natalia was the supposed happily-ever-after partner the show paired buck with under the threat of cancellation. she was the extreme opposite of ali and had a morbid fascination for buck's brush with death, something that was initially refreshing before becoming off-putting. their breakup happened offscreen in between seasons 6-7 and she got one expository mention

- taylor was his longest relationship and the most fleshed out, at least in term of screentime, their story spanning seasons with casual hookups in s2, a friendship marked by romantic tension in s4, and finally a committed relationship in s5. the first fracture was caused by buck's infidelity and more importantly the lies and overcompensation brought on by guilt, but the reason they split was ultimately because of fundamental differences in morals/work ethics/ambitions. his experience with taylor was formative because it taught buck not to give up on the whole relationship at the first sign of trouble (a valuable lesson he seemingly forgot since then but i digress…) she got one tv cameo post breakup (indirect mention)

- abby was the person who opened buck's eyes to his true desire (emotional closeness and romantic intimacy) but they had vastly different attitudes toward their relationship: she was the first big love of buck's life, but as much as she cared for him, maybe even loved him, he was mostly a distraction from the chaos of her life, and she seemingly had realistic expectations about their future together. their 'breakup' is a case of unusual circumstances. buck was hung up on her for a good chunk of s2, but they didn't technically end things in the previous finale. buck wholeheartedly believed she'd return to him after a few months and abby never dissuaded that notion. but once he realized she wouldn't, buck promptly moved on: first by pursuing taylor, and then ali. abby only got mentioned again in s3 to foreshadow her guest appearance for closure purposes. i'll compare and contrast her reintroduction to tommy's later on.

- and then we have mr. self-sabotage himself, tommy kinard, who unlocked the wonders of bisexuality laying dormant in buck (and unleashed his #Spoiled Brat tendencies). the first distinction from previous LIs is that their breakup wasn't written as definitive or unfixable. allow me to quote myself like a pompous asshole because i can't be bothered to rephrase the same sentiment (i'll be doing a lot of copy/pasting, actually... i did warn you against redundancy): they didn't part way because of irreconciliable differences or because passion/attraction fizzled out or because they envisioned different futures. if they wanted that door closed, tommy could’ve simply said he was uninterested in pursuing longterm commitment with buck, that they’re not compatible in the long run. there: a clean, uncomplicated break. instead, we were told that tommy desperately wants to be the person buck settles down with, except he’s convinced buck is propelled by the excitement of novelty, that he suspects buck is latching onto him for the wrong reasons, that he can’t allow himself to merge their home life together in fear that he’ll never recover once buck wants out. the implication here being tommy was in love with buck already, or at least halfway there. for his part, buck came to the realization that he wanted a future with tommy and immediately decided to pursue it because that's just the type of man he is: never one to do things by half-measures, seeing no value in waiting once his mind is made up. so there was no conflicting desire there. they wanted the same thing: permanence with each other, but fear and insecurity derailed the whole thing. let's call 806 Miscommunication 1.0. the second notable distinction? there has been a grand total of 4 tommy name drops post-confessions when we usually only get the one before buck moves on to greener pastures. hell, buck was having such a hard time with the breakup he developed a coping mechanism in order to deal with it. the baking was comically excessive and lasted 5 whole episodes. buck considers the breakup to be the beginning of his life unravelling — he implied that being with tommy was life as it should be, even... yeah, there's no precedent for this behavior. we've never seen him stuck on an ex to this extent before. tommy is starting to earn his most transformative relationship title beyond the obvious queer awakening aspect of it all, isn't he? now these repeated mentions weren't necessary (and unnecessary will be a word i use liberally moving forward), especially the one we got after a 4 months hiatus. we know why the writers included them now: they were keeping the thread alive for buck & tommy's reunion in 811. that's something the most optimistic of us kept pointing out despite those disheartening "exit interviews" — the breakup was too abrupt and open-ended, and the tommy mentions too frequent and pointed, for 806 to be the end of their story. 

speaking of 811, let's dissect that episode and establish why holy mother of god alone is a strong indicator of an upcoming makeup. because my god, did it do the opposite of presaging closure...

time to compare and contrast with abby! when she reappeared, both her and buck had moved on. yes, there was still some lingering affection, and he was single and had plenty of unaswered questions, but he wasn't haunted by them or abby anymore, and she was happily engaged to another man. i repeat: they both had moved on. getting back together was never an option introduced by 318. abby came back for one thing: firmly close that chapter of buck's life and heal whatever scars he still carried because of her. that isn't the case for the bucktommy Bare Mattress Fuckfest of 2025.

first of all, a hook-up? really? unnecessary. if the only goal was to shoehorn in the buddie question (as some people naively claim), then that could've happened at the bar. hell, tommy didn't have to be brought back for it at all: maddie could've floated the idea by herself when buck kept showing up at her doorstep looking as pathetic as a wet dog. it sure would've saved production some money! and if the showrunner was going for closure (he wasn't), having buck sleep with tommy was counterproductive. it only served to highlight desire and sexual chemistry between them (something that was only ever vaguely implied in s7-8a). why emphasize an aspect of mlm relationships that was missing from the og show until now? (also, remember when the doom-and-gloomists were convinced buck's queerness would be buried, never to be mentioned again, after the hiatus? only for him to initiate gay sex on national tv? it was an understandable concern considering the current fate of DEI programs, but catastrophizing caused unwarranted stress and grievances. let's maybe give the show a modicum of grace until proven otherwise?)

more importantly, 811 established that tommy regretted the breakup. that's something we could infer from the bubbling in 807, but there's a world of difference between considering contact a week post-breakup and still actively pining for buck 3-4 months after they ended things. tommy drove by the loft just the other day. recently. he hasn't moved on — is more affected by the breakup than buck himself, even. that's... you guessed it, completely unnecessary (and frankly cruel) if closure is the destination ahead. but it can't possibly be, because you know what else 811 nearly established? a reconciliation. tommy asked for a second chance, and buck was receptive to the suggestion before Insecurity and Foot-in-Mouthism derailed the plans.

instead of letting their romance naturally fade into the background after the hiatus, the writers purposefully reignited that flame. they crafted a scenario meant to prolong uncertainty about bucktommy's future together instead of closing that door forever. even without the contagion spoilers confirming that tommy will be back for the two-parter, the audience expects another conversation between the two exes. there were too many things left unsaid after that aborted kitchen argument. buck owe tommy an apology and a clarification, and he has yet to reveal that he missed tommy as well during their time apart — the viewers know that to be true but tommy was left with no reciprocation after admitting he fought constant urges to call. worse, he was left heartbroken after being told their night together meant nothing. sorry if i sound like a broken record, but that was unnecessary: there's no point in introducing conflict and Miscommunication 2.0 if they have no payoff.

as for the jealousy over eddie reveal... as many have pointed out, narrowing down tommy's insecurities is actually a good sign. the fears he spoke of in 806 were more formless and abstract, harder to assuage. jealousy over one specific person is easier to confront and work through as a couple (and it can be fodder for more drama if the writers don't sweep the whole thing under the rug). though i'll say that i'm inclined to believe tommy when he claims he was mostly joking — as in i don't think eddie was the root cause of the breakup. 811 doesn't retcon 806, only adds an appendix. tommy questioning the nature of buck's feelings for eddie is part of a larger picture (and a larger issue).

now i keep parotting the word unnecessary because 911 does not exist in a vacuum. every writing and acting choice is intentional and must serve a purpose. the hookup could've ended amicably but it didn't. tommy could've agreed with buck when he said their drunken romp didn't have to change a thing but he didn't. buck didn't have to sniffle and look miserable when he admitted that loneliness was no reason to pursue a relationship. in fact the whole episode is peppered with parallels and callbacks. buck and tommy wearing their breakup outfits as if they've been suspended in time since november is deliberate. the fact that the first night buck ever spent in his new place was with tommy in his bed was also deliberate. and this isn't my bucktommy-addled brain reading too much into a scene. slamming each other into walls while a song about never finding home plays in the background is no coincidence. quoting myself like a pompous asshole again: tommy was the necessary catalyst for buck to make peace with eddie's departure and start viewing the house as his own. he says verbatim "[sharing a bed with tommy] was the first night i was actually able to sleep in that place" — once again tommy is linked to comfort and safety and the beginning of a new journey. tommy started the unpacking process for him with that coffeemaker. buck is baking (an activity that was established as a visual indicator of pining for tommy) while he firmly shuts down the notion that he might harbor buried feelings for his straight-heterosexual-notinterestinmen-notanoption best friend. he expresses frustration and anger at the idea that tommy seemingly spent their entire relationship worrying about another man. later when maddie (the audience/buddie stand-in) assumes he's talking about calling eddie, buck corrects her and reasserts that tommy is the person he's thinking about. that was the throwback to 704. it's not about eddie.

for a brief moment in that kitchen, buck and tommy slipped back into domesticity. tommy waking up at the asscrack of dawn to buy groceries and prepare a veritable feast isn't meaningless either (at least i hope it isn't): it's a callback to masks — tommy the caretaker dotting on buck. i want to believe that scene was intentionally designed to contrast buck's dynamics with tommy compared to his relationships with the rest of the cast: the baker being fed, the eternal giver being the recipient of care. buck is loved but he's no one's priority. everyone he knows (with the exception of ravi who wants nothing to do with him lmao) has a spouse and/or children who naturally take precedence over him, but he could be tommy's priority.

it's also worth noting that tommy's "i can't move in with you" morphed into "i'm not ready to move in yet." could it be... foreshadowing i sense? third time's the charm is shaping up to be bucktommy's operating principle.

alright, enough yapping about 811. let's move on to spoilers territory. i'll try to keep speculations to a minimum but they're inevitable so take everything with a grain of salt.

tommy's unique skills set (tim's words) will be featured in the two-parter. his status as a previous member of the 118 was also emphasized. he'll readily assist his old firehouse in a time of crisis agsin (the rule of three strikes once more). contagion is described as a season opening/finale worthy emergency. 814-815 will be a large scale spectacle and is sure to be memorable given bobby's alleged death.

again, involving tommy in the two-parter is unnecessary. if a pilot is needed, background character #34 could do the job. i won't bring up the "it's way too much effort and money for closure" argument because we know for a fact that 815 isn't the end of the bucktommy storyline. tommy is featured in at least another episode, and a major one at that. i beg all debby downers out there to exercise reason: why on earth would they bring back buck's ex not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES (and counting) post-breakup if it's not for a reconciliation? a makeup is the only thing that makes narrative sense.

bts pictures/videos place both tommy and buck on the rooftop helipad during daylight and in the coliseum at nightfall, surrounded by heavy military and fbi presence. i think it's safe to assume they'll be stuck together in a helicopter for a few hours. forced proximity is a classic romcom trope for a reason: if there's ever a time to hash out their issues, it's midair with nowhere to run.

now let's focus on buck for a second. he followed maddie's advice: learning to be alone, to be content on his own so he doesn't spiral again the next time he's broken up with or a friend moves away. and content buck seemingly is, comfortable in his home and in his skin. it's a breakthrough: when he interacts with tommy again, loneliness will no longer be a factor influencing his desire to reconnect. buck has gained some measure of clarity since 811.

and reuniting under these less than ideal circumstances? pretty promising actually. tommy's loyalty and his willingness to help the 118 are two characteristics that captured buck's attention in the first place. it's an opportunity to recreate the initial spark, with the added knowledge of the man hiding behind the confident façade.

as for the presumed 816 leaks... tommy is part of bobby's honor guards. that tells me he plays a crucial role in 815, and if you ask me, there are only three reasonable options to explore:

1. buck and tommy makeup during the two parter. they're officially a couple again by the time the credits roll

2. what i think is more likely to happen: they start to reconcile in 815. they have a frank conversation and the groundwork for a reconciliation is laid down when buck asks for a saturday date but a proper makeup is put on standby as soon as the ripper knocks on bobby's door. they're left to navigate grief in this weird in between-state, but the desire to give it another try has been expressed free from the influences of loneliness or grief

3. they reconcile in the finale. tommy offers support as a 'friend' and buck leans on him until bobby inevitably rises from the dead ("i'm not lonely, and i'm not mourning, and i still want you")

i'm optimistic but not delusional: a love confession in the two-parter is way too ambitious and i'm not holding my breath for it. i don't think buck is quite there yet. his feelings for tommy are pretty... nebulous. he saw a future there, one he wanted to cement, and he sure looked and acted in love, but he never said it. hell, he had to be talked through realizing he was serious about tommy. in contrast, he readily defined his feelings for ex-girlfriends (he loved abby and taylor and told us as much) and for eddie (he knows he's not in love with the guy). i find buck's limited introspection when it comes to tommy endlessly fascinating... but that's a conversation for another day.

i'm losing steam so let's wrap this up. i wasn't thrilled by the s9 renewal but that's only bc 911 is an objectively mediocre show with a godawful fandom and i'll be held hostage around these hellish parts for at least another year. i don't see why the renewal would automatically mean bad news for bucktommy. the point of wanting them back together is to see them explore the joys and challenges of a committed relationship. another season is a prerequisite. oliver said buck is maturing: he's entering a new, more settled phase of his life, and i can't imagine the return of the hamster wheel at this point. if anything, i expect buck to reach new relationship milestones next season.

anyway...... i'm not claiming it's a 100% guarantee, let's start celebrating now (let us not forget the black mold infestation plaguing the writers' room) but logic dictates that a reconciliation is underway. so, long story short... yes, i am genuinely very optimistic about our chances <3

[babyangelsky]

BL Boys I Wanted Carnally in 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

Remember this game? I'm bringing it back!

MERRY CHRISTMAS LET'S LOOK AT BEAUTIFUL MEN

♡ Fort Thitipong as Mahasamut (Love Sea)

I wrote a whole post about how badly I wanted to eat this man with a spoon and how stupidly fucking attractive he is because I could not keep it to myself. I WANT TO EAT EVERY LAST BEEFY GOLDEN INCH OF HIM AND THEN I WANNA DO IT AGAIN!

♡ Furuya Robin as Takashi (Love is Better the Second Time Around)

I see Hiro. I understand Hiro. If this man made this face at me, I would also go have a really good shower.

♡ Ngern Anupart as Arthit (Fourever You)

THEY MADE HIM A FOOTBALL PLAYER AND COVERED HIM IN TATTOOS I NEED PART 2 LIKE I NEED AIR *SCREAMS INTO A PILLOW*

♡ Great Sapol as Yoryak (Wandee Goodday)

He's my blog header and blog title for a reason. Putting this beautiful giant ass man in bunny ears and a tail was a gift *specifically* for me. A gift for which I am eternally grateful, bless you thank you P'Golf.

♡ Mark Sorntast as Pie (Battle of the Writers)

I would like to once again thank the cameraman for this very slow pan up Mark's body and I would also like to thank whoever decided that Pie should strip for Ozone because they really blessed us all.

♡ Top Piyawat as Namping/Sian (Every You, Every Me)

I want them both in very different ways which, once again, all the credit in the world to Top both for Looking Like That and for having the skill to portray these two characters so differently.

♡ Pond Ponlawit as Hill (Fourever You)

I don't ever not want Pond carnally when he is on my screen. He was also great and attractive as Third in Century of Love but he didn't get enough screen time and also they didn't show him to us like this:

♡ Joong Archen as Fadel (The Heart Killers)

Style's just like me fr because I would absolutely RUIN my life for this man. I would ruin several lives for this man. I'd beg, borrow, and steal for this man.

♡ Frank Thanatsaran as Atom (The Rebound)

Atom is too sweet and too good and too damn fine not to have gotten his happy ending. I would do so right by him. He'd get a happy ending and then some.

♡ Nagumo Shoma as Arashi (Love in the Air Koi)

No one has ever been more perfectly cast in anything ever than this man. Shoma was made to be the Japanese version of Payu. The daddy dom energy just drips off of him. AND THAT SHOT OF HIS BACK? STILL NOT OVER IT.

♡ Big Thanakorn as God (Monster Next Door)

He's just so unfair. The sweetest, greenest flag of a man ever and built like a goddamn tree it's NOT FAIR!

♡ Lin Chia Yo as Johnathan (See Your Love)

Peace and love to Xin Jia he's just a baby gangster trying his best but I would NEVER let Johnathan leave that bed whether I remembered how we got there or not. NEVER.

♡ Sailub Hemmawich as Oab (This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans)

The long pretty eyelashes and the fuck me eyes and that body I just--ONE CHANCE JUST GIVE ME ONE CHANCE OAB PLEASE

♡ Yin Anan as Jack (Jack & Joker)

HE HAS A NECKLACE OF MOLES AROUND HIS NECK! HE HAS A MOLE JUST BENEATH HIS SHOULDER BLADE! DO YOU GET IT DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

♡ Jaonine Jiraphat as Latte (Knock Knock Boys)

Of course he's on this list. Do you know how many of his gym thirst traps I've posted on this blog since this show aired? I would like to personally and very sincerely thank whoever styled Jaonine in this show.

♡ Max Kornthas as Tai (Two Worlds)

I'd get distracted too if he was looking at me like this while I drew him. Doesn't matter which version of him it was, I would let him do anything to me and if it was the scarface version, I could fix him.

♡ Poom Phuripan as Joe (My Stand-In)

The way I would give Joe anything he wanted just to see that beautiful face smiling up at me. Congrats to Ming for being rich and everything but he could never treat Joe as right as I could. I would babygirlify that man to within an inch of his life just like he deserves.

♡ Honorable Mentions ♡

I am going to break my own rules a little bit because this is my list and I can so I'm going to include:

Kevin Chang as Ever4 (Eternal Butler)

Like I know the show just started and thus doesn't meet my criteria but I can't NOT include our new favorite daddy dom robot butler because...

...reasons. If I do a list like this for next year, best believe he's gonna be on it again.

Nike Nitidon as In (180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us)

This breaks my rules even more but I watched this show for the first time like a week ago and it immediately landed itself on my list of favorite BLs ever because everything about it is like heroin to me and I NEED this man to be in another BL so desperately like you don't understand giVE HIM BACK TO ME.

[cavernned]

ENHYPEN WITH ENTERTAINER TROPES

maknae line version!

hyung line version

notes: so….. i know it’s been a while since i uploaded the first part! AND IM SORRY FOR THAT. i just got really busy and then i was honestly considering scrapping it altogether bc i thought it was kind of a trash idea (oops!) but after recieving all the love on my rating my exes smau i thought that i might as well do the maknae line! to those that were waiting on it i apologize and hope that this suffices 💜🤍 (also please lmk if you want to be added to the perm taglist for my enha works!)

word count < 2890

trigger warnings: none!

model!sunoo x stylist!reader

Sunoo is a famous model!

Not only is he famous for his great visuals but also his cute personality 

every critic online would be saying that his face did not match his onstage persona at all! 

those that he worked with never had anything negative to say about him

in behind the scenes videos he’s cheerful and can be found interacting with staff

but once he gets on the runway….

it’s like a switch is flipped!

no more smiles or giggles, just serving face

and this is exactly what makes him so popular

another thing that always caught peoples eye were his day to day looks

from the way he styled his hair, the makeup that laced his face, all the way down to the clothes on his back seemed ti be perfectly curated to make him look good

AND BOY IH BOY DID IT WORK

but of course nobody could look that good everyday without a little help

and people began to speculate…

who is the genius behind Sunoo’s looks??

In a recent interview he’s asked this question 

his fans obviously expect him to happily answer like he usually does but-

HE COMPLETELY GATEKEEPS?????

rather than answering directly he laughs it off and makes a joke about how it’s all him!

and boy oh boy this answer disappointed many

(since this behind-the-scenes stylist was in such high demand amongst not only models but celebrities too!) 

people online searched and searched for any sort of hint or trace of this mystery fashion consultant 

but there was genuinely nothing!

UNTIL ONE FATEFUL DAYYYYYYY

some deep diver finds you credited in a post made long before Sunoo was famous 

before he was even a runway model at that

and the post didn’t even have him in it, there were only pictures of you at your graduation 

in the description was your name,  “l would like to congratulate Y/N L/N not only as an aspiring stylist and fashion designer, but as my one and only.” 

welp, the cats out of the bag 😅

YOU’D NEVER WOKEN UP TO SO MANY NOTIFICATIONS BEFORE…

You definitely didn’t post anything new or had any recent requests for pieces. Hell your commissions weren’t even open anymore? To top it all off you really weren’t on your phone that much to begin with. So imagine the surprise that you felt when the buzzing of your phone was coming from insta notifications rather than the sound of your alarm.

Not feeling quite ready to deal with the day yet, you quickly pick up the device to silence the flashing screen. Before you can even put the phone back down another notification pops up. This one coming from a message sent to your business email specifically. 

The first word being proposal was all you needed to. You were caught red handed. Instinctively, you turn over to your left. Beside you was Sunoo peacefully sleeping, completely oblivious to the chaos he most likely caused. As gently as you can you wake the boy up. 

“What’s up? it’s Saturday why are you up so early.” he loudly yawns.

Instead of using your words you quickly shove the phone into his face. Not before giving you a confused look, he takes the device from your hands and looks at the screen. It only takes him a few seconds to recognize what occurred while the two of you slept. “oh shit.”

————————————-

Later in the day during he actually had a shoot. 

Usually during his breaks he would film videos for his fans. They would consist of sneak peaks, informing them about his day, or just him eating snacks 

Since his girlfriend was outed on the internet though, there was no more beating around the bush (as much as he still wanted you to be his little secret)

That day you had also come into work with him, to tag along. So what better way to show you off then to include you in his daily vlog! 

Carefully he set up his camera. “Hey guys it’s been a while!” he happily said. 

After chatting about what he’d been up to and giving little hints as to what he’d was shooting for, he finally brought up the elephant in the room.

“I know you guys have been very curious about me.” he states, “There’s been a lot of stuff circling around online, but yes I do have a partner.”

He then grabs the camera and begins making his way over to another area. One in which you’re sitting and looking through emails on your phone. Placing it right in your face to your shock.

“This is her!” and then he abruptly ends the videos choosing to limit access to you once again. He was being serious about gatekeeping you from the world, his girlfriend was too good for people to gawk at. 

“What was that about!” you ask as he begins to sit next you. He rests his head on your shoulder feeling tired from everything going on and from changing outfits about twenty times. “oh nothing..” he replied.

It was in fact not nothing. 

When the video was uploaded later in the day, he couldn’t catch a break. Reading comments about how beautiful his girlfriend was and questions as to why he waited so long to reveal such a talented and pretty lady. 

To make things worse you laughed at his sulking! When he came to confide in you about his wishes to keep you all to himself, you giggled and in your exact words said “it’s been a long time coming.”

He supposes you were right. There was just no way your talent and beauty would be hidden forever. It was obvious that you were always meant for more than just being his stylist and he never planned on stopping you when the time came for you to branch out. Even though he didn’t expect said time to be so soon, he was happy for you and the opportunities he knew were bound to come.

That didn’t stop him from pouting about it though!

influencer!jungwon x bystander!reader

I think it’d be so funny if Jungwon was like a popular content creator 

an influencer if you will

in terms of content i feel like he’d do everything 

reactions, commentary, unboxings, mukbangs, playing games

hell maybe he’d even venture into doing asmr for a little while

POINT IS that he didn’t restrict himself into one area of content

now of course the two of meet in mid video 

in the specific one, he’s actually streaming

during the live he had ordered food to eat, initially forgetting about the meal until the door bell rings signaling its arrival

he quickly excuses himself to pick up his dishes 

and low and behold

ITS YOU

the one that was paid to deliver his meal

to put it simply the interaction was quite hilarious 

since Jungwon truly believed that he fell in love at first sight he ended up stumbling over his words so badly, nearly tripping over his own feet

and to top it all off, he NEARLY dropped his entire meal onto the floor 

once the door closed he let out the loudest scream known to man

what made it worse was the fact that his chat saw the entire interaction since his doorframe was still in view of the camera. 

safe to say that his chat did NOT spare him from the clowning they did on twitter 

the next time he saw you was also, during stream (SHOCKER)

this time around he was vlogging 

on the hunt for blind boxes he’d had his eyes on for a while

as he walked throughout the busy Popmart, his eyes landed on a familiar face 

(a pretty one at that)

there you were in all of your glory

your stare zoned in on the various Peach Riot blind boxes

he signals to his chat that the pretty girl that delivered his food was here 

quickly he stuffs the tripod into his bag so his fans wouldn’t be able to see your face

and he makes his way over to you

and it wouldn’t be Jungwon if he didn’t fumbles and embarrass himself for a second time

by some MIRACLE he actually gains your number

bro left the store clicking his heels together (not before paying for your items 🙂‍↕️)

now his fans don’t officially meet you until a few weeks later in another stream he started

THE STREAM STARTED OFF JUST LIKE IT USUALLY DID…

He would start off by talking about what he’d been up to. Then move on to reading chat for a while, answering questions and clowning his viewers the same way they did to him.

Then Jungwon brought up the main activity for the stream, playing video games! Said video games just being ones on Roblox. 

As he played it mostly consisted of him rage bating, cursing out little kids, and abusing his power because of his youtuber privileges he was given in certain games. 

In the middle of his reign of terror, somebody walked into the room. That somebody being you! Not knowing he was streaming you came to check on him since he was constantly screaming (more than usual at least!) 

Seeing that you walked into his room he stopped everything that he was doing to run up to you. Now that his headphones and mic were off, his chat couldn’t hear anything but the games music and sound effects.

But they were going crazy!

did somebody just walking into his room

jungwon has friends ? wow what a shocker

who tf is that

^my bets are on the doordash person

he’s literally dying in game

did he just kiss her??????

“What are you doing here?” he questioned, “Sorry if I was too loud, were you sleeping?”

Finding amusement in his worry for your wellbeing you gently brushed his bangs away from his face, “No you weren’t too loud, I wasn’t sleeping, and I came to check on you.”

This is when he melted. He couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to have you. Which resulted in his very bad case of cuteness aggression. Instead of giving a response like a normal person, he began placing kisses all of your face with seemingly world record speed. 

Once he’s done smothering your face with his own, instead of ushering you out of the room he drags you over to his set up, pulling out a chair for you to sit in. He quickly disconnects his headphones from his stream so they’d be able to hear your voice.

“So chat, I have something to tell you…,” he ominously says, “I’m no longer bitchless”

Cue to his fans absolutely flaming him nonetheless.

propaganda im not falling for

pretty lady blink twice if you need help

are you sure because she was just in bed with me last week 😹

theres no WAY jungwon pulled before me

lets be honest she probably got paid to be here

You cackled loudly while reading the messages that were quickly flying through the screen as Jungwon begged his fans to have some faith in him for once. 

Once your laughing dies down and hes done complaining, your boyfriend encourages you to speak.

After giving a small rundown of who you are Jungwon decides to tell the story of how the two of you became a couple. Dating all the way before the doordash incident, the both of you had a mutual friend and unknowingly went to the same college (before Jungwon dropped out which his chat also made fun of him for) 

After the whole Doordash and blind box fiasco where he managed to score your number, the two of you began chatting back and forth online. Which is when he found out about your love for playing video games! The two of you would spend most nights together on FaceTime, playing Stardew Valley and Minecraft with one another.

In a joking manner, he expressed his worries to you that maybe he was falling head over heels for a stalker. To which you were offended since you really had no clue that he was famous at all until he told. Im fact he had to show proof that he was popular online because to you he was only Jungwon, your boyfriend. Which perfectly worked out for the two of you!

Once the whole rundown thing was over, the two of you played video games late into the night basically forgetting fans were even watching the two of you. 

I hate the fact that he pulled her

can she date me instead

if they started streaming i would definitely subscribe

^she’s literally funnier than him

jungwon retire and give your channel to (name) thank you very much 💕

dancer!ni-ki x dancer!reader

dance influencers yayyyyy!!!

like jblaze and kirsten kind of dancers

basically well known and superrrr talented but also kind of behind the scenes

so how do you guys meet?

well this one is obvious

you’re obviously background dancers in the same mv

even then you guys don’t necessarily have to become close

but NO, in this choreography there are plenty of duo sections

and you and ni-ki were specifically partnered together

(it’s what the people want to see!!) 

since you guys are both try-hards, oftentimes you spend extra hours in the studio getting the moves down

naturally, the two of you go closerrrr 

often hosting lives and posting challenges with one another

AND THE DANCE COMMUNITY IS RAVINGGGGGG ABOUT YOU GUYS

it’s like two meteorites collided !

seeing two people be so effortlessly cool genuinely blew peoples minds

which checks out! 

once the MV the two of you were working in comes out people expect the era pf your duo to end

but no….

the lives keep coming, instagram posts, and multiple dance routines created by the two of you

at this point people are questioning if you guys are just a pair now or madly in love with each other

AND NOBODY KNOWS

up until one day

when a little stream titled “Dance Studio Tour :)” begins to go live

THE CAMERA MAN DILIGENTLY FOLLOWS

NI-KI AROUND…

He’d already covered a good amount of areas. The entrance, locker rooms, and lounge area had all been explored around with a camera. Streaming a tour of the studio he currently worked at.

Nearing the end of the livestream he finally reached the main areas, the mirror rooms.

There were three in total. Each would host a variety of different classes. Whether that be hip-hop, ballet, heels, ballroom, contemporary, or plenty of others. The first two were relatively normal. One being occupied with a class that he happily greeted and the second being wiped down by a janitor. 

Finally making his way to the third room which was obviously occupied. Loud music echoed across the mirrored walls and the lights created the perfect setting. At first glance (or direction of camera in this scenario) it looked empty, until the lenses landed on you.

There in the middle of the room you were on a tablet, closely monitoring yourself.  With headphones covering your ears, blissfully unaware of the pair that walked in.

Rather than interrupting you, he allows the viewers to focus on you for a while. Your concentrated face filling up the screen as the camera zoomed in. Watchers could slightly hear some funny narrations on behalf of Ni-ki in the background, some teasing, some in awe. 

Once you’re done checking for mistakes and errors you slowly get up to get started again. As you look at yourself in the mirrors it is exactly when you finally recognize the two figures watching behind you.

“Hey guys, what are you up to?” you questioned, being oblivious to the fact that he was filming that day.

“Nothing much, you should introduce yourself.” he urges as he and the camera man make their way over to you. 

As you’re giving a little rundown about yourself and what you’re currently working on, Ni-ki stares at you, listening intently to your words.  

Fans are definitely questioning the longing gaze he’s giving you at this point but not really going batshit insane about it.

It’s not until he’s done interviewing (teasing) you when they go berserk . As he begins to leave, he kisses you right on the lips smack-dab in the middle of the camera. The giggles of the camera man could be quietly heard in the background.

HELLO???

RUE. WHEN WAS THIS??

okay but who’s actually surprised 

^ME????

i could actually cry tears of joy

literally the best day of my life

To their surprise, you aren’t utterly shocked by his actions of kissing you in front of the camera because the both of you believed that you were being quite obvious the entire time. Considering the fact that you guys became a “dynamic duo” specifically after working together, you thought that it was all laid out for your fans.

Who knew that the lack of PDA and cutesy nicknames made people this oblivious.

Later on after the live is over, your fans expect some sort of explanation or announcement but… theres absolutely nothing! No bold instagram post or confirming tweet in sight.

I was not lying when I said you guys were pretty behind the scenes in terms of content and your personal lives! 

Which was exactly how it would stay. 

Of course, that didn’t mean you just left people hanging.

In instances such as group photos the two of you were often closely knit, when you went outside together you wouldn’t wear any masks or restricting hats and would wave at fans in passerby. 

Even in other artists behind the scenes content if the two of you were involved, a lot of the time fans could see the two of you conversing in the background. 

And every blue moon in a random photo-dump there would be one, MAYBE even two photos of you guys included.

You guys were private yes, but not secret!

masterlist ★彡

taglist: @ashirp @ninistranaut

[deerspherestudios]

THEORY!!

i have had this theory for a while now , but i feel like MO is based on the sleeping beauty. how so? 1.) Mychael's three hens parallels with the three faeries in the sleeping beauty 2.) Menu screen theme but thats more obvious lolol 3.) The princess in the sleeping beauty was cursed to prick her finger on a spindle's needle , when it was time for the curse to take it's action she was almost in a state of hypnosis[?] and walked up to the spindle wheel to prick her needle. NOW mc in MO is sort of hypnotized too because we see on day 3 how mc [sort of] willingly walked upto a mushroom ring [if your choices lead to that] and attempts to touch it. i think i've connected the dots..... /silly 4.) this might be a little farfetched but mychael watches us sleep.... sleep... sleeping.... sleeping beauty,,,,, honk mimimimi.... 5.) Maleficent cursed aurora because she was considered an 'outsider' and wasn't invited and welcomed to the grand celebration. guess who else is the 'outsider' [sort of]? MYCHAEL!! humans do not welcome him well! 6.) the forest themes... yummy.... i loved the aurora living in a cabin in woods parts of the movie... who else lives in a cabin in woods? you guessed it!! mychael!! 7.) my memory is hazy but i think one of hen's name is a direct reference to the sleeping beauty... primrose was aurora's name when she had to hide her identity as a civilian. thats what i think so far... i might've not worded some of it correctly but i hope this made sense! i really really reallyyyyyyy enjoy MO<3 thank you for sharing this piece of art with us :DDD have a lovely day i hope this ask finds you and doesn't get consumed by tumblr algorithm TnT <333

,,,I'm actually stunned speechless because hey? I kinda see it,,,?

I can debunk it wasn't based on Sleeping Beauty but I commend you for connecting dots I didn't even realize I'd made haha! It's just incredible coincidence you were able to find pretty decent comparisons here.

I don't usually add much to theory posts because that's the fun of theorizing but enjoy me yapping below if you'd like!

Of everything above, the only thing I can confirm is

4.) this might be a little farfetched but mychael watches us sleep…. sleep… sleeping…. sleeping beauty,,,,, honk mimimimi….

is exactly what I was going for; since Mychael did indeed discover you while you were sleeping (ironically the one point you thought was farfetched haha) and that's what made me choose the main menu theme!

The reason it happened to be a music box version of Once Upon A Dream is because (get ready for Cheea lore here) I played an OFF fan-game titled UNKNOWN as a teen, and in it was a music box version of A Cruel Angel Thesis; it changed my brain chemistry about music box covers ever since. (I don't even watch the anime 😭!)

In fact, I almost used the music box version of Waltz in E-Major, Op. 15 Moon Waltz by Cojum Dip in Astronought's ending scene!

It's also a major part of the reason I gave Mychael a kalimba! I recommend looking up music box covers of songs you know if you enjoy the sound!! <3

Everything else was a coincidence!

Also just an extra tidbit for people who read this: when I was deciding Mychael's favorite Disney movie, it made me think how much he'd want to be Prince Phillip, (I mean genuinely the movie was never about Aurora it was about the fairies lmaoo but I digress) especially after the finale with him defeating Maleficent with the fairies' help.

He'd never consider himself a princely hero but he wishes he could be. And something about meeting your soulmate in the woods by accident really spoke to him.

[redr0sewrites]

s. sub vox headcanons please…. i need that tv man so bad its not even FUNNY

YESSSS MY INBOX HAS BEEN LITERALLY FLOODED W SUB VOX EVER SINCE I MADE THAT POST HAHA

🥀Cw: smut, dom!reader, marking, overstimulation, praise, degradation

🥀 Pt 2 Sounding Hcs Here

🥀minors dni

this man is a SPOILED switch

vox genuinely thinks hes a dom until he meets you, he's used to being dominant and has probably never tried being a sub

his ego gets in the way a little at first, he thinks it's embarrassing

however, once you begin to ease him into it, he's no longer embarrassed about the fact that hes subbing... hes embarrassed about how much he enjoys it

vox is so bratty, especially in the beginning

he has to trust you a lot to truly submit, and that takes time

he'll be very demanding, he'll try to touch himself without permission, he'll boss you around, he'll directly disobey commands, all in the effort of pissing you off

little does he know that you aren't giving up

PUNISH HIM. vox has a huge humiliation kink, fuck him in front of a mirror or in his monitor room where he can see himself from all anges, its so embarrassing to him and he'll probably short circuit

better yet, video tape it (w consent ofc) and play it for him later to fluster him

vox loves it when you talk dirty, hes def the type to have a voice kink

vox is also the type to be incredibly sensitive imo, and he gets overstimulated veryyyy easily bc of that

the easiest way for to you break down his bratty, bossy layer is to overstimulate him until he's sobbing

he has to really trust you tho

as much as vox likes your degradation, he LOVES youre praise

this man is constantly under stress, and is always hungry for control, so having someone else take it away from him can be very relieving for him

tell him how good he's doing, how good he's making you feel, and his mind goes all fuzzy <3

honestly once you slip into praise vox is practically GONE, he slips into subspace so easily when it comes to the overstimulating pleasure you're providing and combined with the praising? he's done for

vox always wants his hands on you, but he's so touchy and forgets how sharp his nails are, so you often have to restrain him

he likes seeing you covered in scratches tho, and also secretly likes it when you leave hickeys or scratches on his skin. ESPECIALLY when they're visible- it ties in with the humiliation kink ig, but if anyone ever noticed or pointed it out he'd prob cause a blackout with how flustered he'd get

speaking of getting flustered, vox glitches and whimpers when he moans, and his screen will often flush or grow static-y

the lights and electronics often flicker or go out when he cums, and he often cums so hard he glitches out and cuts the wifi (much to val and vels annoyance)

vox likes receiving more than giving, and LOVES blow jobs- it can be a little hard for him to give oral (lmao) but he loves bjs so so so much

theres something so pleasurable about just laying back and doing nothing but whimper and claw at the sheets as you suck him dry, and he cries from pleasure every time

VOX LOVES IT WHEN U SUCK HIM OFF WHILE HES WORKING, BUT HE NEVER ACTUALLY GETS ANY WORK DONE AND SPENDS THE WHOLE TIME SHAKING AND TRYING NOT TO THRUST INTO YOURE MOUTH

vox is also def a squirmer, like he'll shudder and whine over the gentlest touches. y'all also have to change the bedding like eveytime you have sex cuz he literally CLAWS at the sheets and moves around a LOT

simple solution? shibari

he loves/hates being tied up because its soooo humiliating and it gives you complete control

speaking of control, he finds it really hot when you're pissed or acting dominant outside of the bedroom

sometimes (alot of times) he'll try to intentionally piss you off just so you'll fuck him senseless

at the end of long work days, he either wants to be gently praised and taken care of while you both make love or fucked absolutely senseless until he can't even remember why he was upset and can only helplessly babble and whine

vox goes incoherent super easily and it only embarrasses him more that he can't get words out

he def owns a lot (and i mean a LOT) of sex toys and likes it when u use them on him

some nights he just wants to lay back while you try them all out on him

HES INTO SOUNDING AND YES I WILL ELABORATE IF ASKED <333

just the thought of u filling every one of his holes and overstimulating him from every angle makes him horny

he def will want you to use a remote control vibrator during meetings, he gets off on the humiliation

however with all of his baggage w valentino and shit, he def likes being treated sweetly too

some days he needs to get out of his head and be forced into submission and put into place, but others he needs to be pampered and praised and treated like glass

vox is much more emotional on these days and is a lot more clingy during these softer sessions

talk him through his orgasm, he'll probably start crying and let out the prettiest whimpers- he just cant help it, you make him feel so good :(

overall, he can be both super bratty and super submissive at the same time and is one kinky mf

humiliation is absolutely his biggest kink, followed in no particular order by bondage, a voice kink, praise, marking/claiming, DRY HUMPING (again i will absolutely elaborate if asked... hehe), and being put in his place

YALLLLLL IK THIS IS SO SHORT BUT I HAVE LIKE 6 OTHER SUB VOX REQS IN MY INBOX RN WHERE I WILL DEF BE GOING INTO MORE DETAILED SCENARIOS HEHE I LOVE HIMMMMM!!! I'LL PROB DO MORE IN DEPTH LIKE GENERAL HCS FOR HIM SOON WITH HIS DOM SIDE AS WELL CUZ THIS MANS THE WORLDS BIGGEST SWITCH- ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYEDDDD FEEL FREE TO SEND IN MORE REQS >:D

UPDATE: ELABORATION (basically pt 2 w sounding hcs) HERE

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

About the "kwamis as mentors" angle: Interesting to read and analyse, yet I can't help but feel they were not necessarily meant to be seen as mentors. At least to me, they seemed to be kind of whacky mascot characters who are tied to the lore, who have a personality to crack a joke or point something out or cause a little situation or be cute, but nothing more.

They are rather naive magical entities chained to jewelry (a fact they don't seem to mind that much or think about at all except for Plagg) and all that talk about "being around for 5000 years" and having seen many holders before is just there to make them seem more wise than they actually act like. From what I've seen on the show I would even assume there's a threshold to how much they can even mature emotionally and understand humans. Sometimes Tikki and Plagg even come off as indifferent and egoistical towards their holders (like an example you gave with Tikki, or Plagg's fixation on cheese over Adrien at times).

So...sorry if I missed it, but why do you view them as mentor characters? You made an interesting post about rom-com vs magical girl and the magical girl part is exactly why I always viewed them just as critters to appeal to kids, but nothing more. I can see that the show's writing is so inconsistent that sometimes they are portrayed as wise but more often then not they are just background noise to get a little interaction on screen so that the characters are not talking to themselves about miraculous stuff or to point something out for the audience.

The show's writing is pretty weird, so there are elements that are hard to get a clear read on. The Kwamis are one such element. When they're one-on-one with their chosen, they often feel like mentors to me. When they're all together, they almost always read like "critters to appeal to kids" (mostly because there are too many of them to let them have individual personalities when they're all together). So while I think that they're supposed to be mentors, it's not like that's the only canon-accurate read.

To dig into what I mean by the one-on-one writing, let's look at this exchange from Feast:

Master Fu: See, Wayzz? If Marinette had kept her Miraculous, the sentimonster would have swallowed her right up. Wayzz: Or she would have transformed into Ladybug and fought it. Master Fu: Sometimes fighting is futile, Wayzz.

And then later on we get this:

Wayzz: Master, look! Ladybug and Cat Noir, despite their ridiculous costumes, they haven't let you down! Wang Fu: That's impossible! They don't have their Miraculous! Wayzz: Master, it's obvious it's them—who else would do something so crazy? Cat Noir (Adrien): Hey, have a taste of this! Some exploding banana split from Bananoir! Ladybug (Marinette): Much tastier than any Miraculous! Wayzz: Look, Master, there's no use in running! Your disciples never give up the fight, no matter what! With or without their Miraculous, they are Ladybug and Cat Noir!

That's some pretty active mentoring right there.

Wayzz is probably the character that feels the most like a mentor to me. When he's with Fu, he feels like Fu's partner or adviser, which is why I think that the Kwami's aren't supposed to just be cute critters. They're regular ol' Jimmy Crickets meant to act as a conscience that the characters can talk to since this is visual media and you want a way for the characters to talk through their thoughts instead of having them do it all internally.

I also present this exchange from Desperada as evidence:

Adrien: Plagg, Ladybug needs me. She needs "Adrien"! Plagg: If you asked me, this whole idea is worse than cheese in a can. Adrien: She thinks I'm the perfect guy for this mission. Plagg: You can't be Cat Noir and another superhero at the same time! Which means that you're not the perfect guy for this mission. Adrien: The Lucky Charm told her I am. Plagg: That's not how it works. Why am I bothering? You're not even listening.

We then get Plagg reiterating that this is a bad idea through multiple loops, ending with this:

Plagg: Ah! At last, you've come to your senses. Adrien: I'm not sure Ladybug will have very fond memories of her experience with "Adrien Agreste". Plagg: Then make up for it as Cat Noir.

See? I told you Plagg can be a good mentor when he wants to! Tikki, take notes!

I'd even call this bit from Sapitos some quality subtle mentoring from Trixx:

Alya: Oh please, Ladybug! We'd make a great team! I could help Cat Noir and you every day! Ladybug:(her earrings ring) I'm about to transform back! Hurry! Alya: Please? Ladybug: I have to go! I'm trusting you! (opens a nearby door and goes inside, so she can detransform) Trixx: You're absolutely right, Alya. I'm sure the three of you would make quite the team! You have all the makings of a true superhero. You're strong, brave; but most of all, you're trustworthy.

Way to both build Alya up and reminder her of her duty, Trixx. Gold star. Quality mentorship!

So are the Kwamis supposed to be mentors? Who knows! I just see them fill the role often enough to feel comfortable judging them through that lens.

Miraculous also isn't the only magical girl team show to make the cute critters into mentors. That's a pretty standard path even though it's also common to see the critters used to sell merch/appeal to kids and nothing more. In terms of classic magical girl team shows, I'd say that the Kwamis are written way more like Luna and Artemis from Sailor Moon than Mini Mew from Tokyo Mew Mew.

[tec-a0l]

26 years

it’s been 26 years since the massacre at CHS, and because there’s so much misinformation surrounding it, i’ve decided to make a list of the most common myths to debunk them.

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“eric was the leader, dylan was a follower”

this narrative is pushed by many different sources (most notably by dave cullen), however it’s blatantly false. both dylan and eric were equally responsible for planning and following through with the massacre.

if anything, it could be argued that eric was more of a follower, as dylan wrote about committing a massacre nearly a year before eric did, and several of their friends stated that eric actually tended to follow/copy dylan in more innocuous ways. this, however is also somewhat farcical, as they made the choice to do this together, and should both be held equally as accountable.

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“eric shot dylan”

this goes hand-in-hand with the “leader/follower” myth, however based on all the publicly available forensic, ballistic, and coronary/post-mortem information, dylan undoubtedly took his own life.

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“they picked 4/20 because it’s h*tler’s birthday”

the intended date was 4/19, as they were inspired by the 1995 oklahoma city b*mbing done on the same date, however they weren’t prepared enough when the day came and they had to postpone.

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“there were 15 victims”

yes, 15 people died that day, but only 13 of them were victims—you cannot be the victim of a massacre that you, yourself perpetrated. while it’s true that d&e were victims of an unsupportive society and intense bullying, they chose to carry out the massacre, which means they were not victims of their own violence.

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“rachel & cassie were killed for believing in god”

rachel scott & cassie bernall’s martyrdom is probably one of the most prevailing myths about the massacre, but it is very much untrue. for rachel, she had no interactions with d&e on the day, as they shot her from a distance. for cassie, while she did have an interaction with eric, it was only him taunting her before taking her life—no conversation took place.

d&e did, however, ask valeen schnurr if she believed in god—to which she answered something along the lines of “no…yes, because my parents believe,” according to schnurr herself and other survivors from the library—but she wasn’t killed because of it.

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“d&e were members of the trench coat mafia”

while they did wear trench coats/dusters, neither dylan nor eric properly associated with the TCM. a couple of their other friends did, but not d&e themselves.

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“dave cullen’s book is an accurate account of the events”

this could not be further from the truth—dave cullen’s book is filled with misinformation, distorted evidence, and flat out lies. this includes the very real story of how the now-late anne marie-hochhalter—whom he never even interviewed, instead going off of random news reports—was injured. she had spoken out about it in an article, stating:

“I was injured at [CHS], and Dave Cullen's book is inaccurate and sensationalized...It felt kind of violating, to be honest,” Hochhalter says of the experience of reading Cullen's book. “He got the part about how I was injured completely wrong. I couldn't bear to read the whole thing.”

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there’s no doubt hundreds of other myths surrounding the massacre, but these are the main ones that come to mind first.

it’s important for us to remember that this was a very real event that had very real impacts on people—it’s easy to fall into the trap of disconnecting d&e from the destruction they caused, viewing them more as fictional characters you just see on your screen, but that’s far from the case.

i hope cassie, cory, daniel, danny, dave, isaiah, john, kelly, kyle, lauren, matthew, rachel, and steven all rest in peace, they were taken far too soon.

for dylan and eric, i hope their friends and families can remember the good times they had with them, and the rest of us can learn from this case and not go down the same dark path they did.

my love is with the families of all those effected by this tragedy, we owe it to them to do our best in making the world a kinder, more understanding place and taking whatever steps we can to stop more shootings from happening.

be kind to yourselves, and be kind to others.

[elliesbebegurl]

Warmest Welcome

Abby x Ellie x Masc!Reader

synopsis: Ellie has always dreamt of being in a band. Her new bandmates are more than happy to welcome her.

warnings: 2.6k words, sub! ellie, dom! reader, dom! abby (idrk, abby doesn’t get involved much here but yea), reader plays with ellie while they write lyrics for their upcoming song TEEHEE, voyeurism, fingering (e!receiving), edging and implied overstim (e!receiving), asphyxiation (e!receiving), Y/N is used once

A/N: The song they’re “writing” here will be Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus SO THAT’S FUN 😍

also sorry this took a looooong time to finally post since I posted the sneak peek. IVE BEEN BUSY IM SORRY 🙏🙏

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Ellie was never the type to be extremely social. She would only go to campus to finish her classes, go to the library to re-write her lectures and then go straight back to her place—avoiding any possibility of socializing.

Not that she was ever really talked to. Except her online friends. And when she orders takeout. Do they count?

Though one thing she loved was music. Whether she listened to it or played it herself. Every single pluck of the guitar strings as she played a familiar melody she had heard from the radio earlier that day.

She played beautifully. But who would believe someone like her fucking shreds guitar? See, the problem was that she never really was confident in her skills.

On the flip side were you and Abby. The two of you were pretty well known around campus, being a relatively successful duo after a song you made up one random sleepover with Abby blew up on social media.

Got a little tipsy after sipping on a little too much wine while you two had a “study night”, ended up writing a whole ass song and recording it in Abby’s closet before sharing on a platform for shits and giggles. Now… you’re not complaining though.

So when Abby hears about an upcoming “battle of the bands” happening back in her hometown right on your summer break from uni, trust that you haven’t been left the fuck alone for the past. Four. Days.

Abby spins in your desk chair, with you sat up on your bed as she bugs you for probably the 7th time that day. “Come on, it’ll be fun! Plus, we’ll get to meet other bands, and didn’t you tell me then that you wanted to try getting laid with a bass play-“

You groan. Running your hands over you face as you reason:

“Oh my God. Dude. We’re not even a band. How the fuck are we gonna sign up?”

Abby sits straight, her eyes narrowing as she hummed. “Uhhh…”

Your eyes remained on Abby, crossing your arms as she lets out an awkward chuckle. Rolling your eyes, you go back to “working” on your laptop. In reality, you were actually searching for ways to sign up for the event and its requirements. These are one of the fewest times that Abby would actually go and nag you about something she really wanted to do. So naturally, being her best friend, you try to find a way.

But it’s true though. You two need at least another member to proceed with this competition.

But how?

—————————

After another week of endless (and in-secret) searching, the post you made asking anyone willing to join your band finally got a good amount of emails sent to you. (Abby was blocked beforehand so she couldn’t see.)

One thing that caught your attention in particular was a sophomore who simply wrote in the email about how she wanted to audition as a guitarist—even making the effort of sending a video. Some others already did, so you shrugged it off. Naturally, you clicked on the video and sat back in your seat as it loaded.

When the play button appeared in the middle of the screen, you put on headphones before hitting play.

The girl was leaning over her camera, making sure it was steady before standing up straight. She then shakily introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Ellie. Uh-“ She cleared her throat, her pick now pinched between her fingers.

She chuckled nervously, making a small amused smile creep up your lips as you leaned forward on your desk—now more intrigued.

Hm. This is new.

“Sorry if this is awkward, but um… fuck—sorry, I’ll play.”

There’s a short pause when Ellie leans over, hitting play on her laptop and adjusting the strap of her acoustic before positioning her fingers over the strings.

The familiar intro of “21 Guns” starts playing. From the very first strum, you could tell she had that rhythm. She wasn’t holding herself back—yet also wasn’t playing senselessly.

Unlike the very few others who sent in an audition video where their wrists were stiff and too hyper-focused on getting the song right rather than letting themselves enjoy—Ellie was the exact opposite.

Even though her face wasn’t showing, just with the way her body rocked along as she played almost effortlessly, you could see just how much she loved what she was doing.

When the chorus comes, theres a sudden cut to her now playing an electric guitar, along with her fairy lights in the background now flickering to the beat.

This makes you chuckle in amusement, now nodding along as you sat through the whole video.

When the video ends, you take off your headphones and you sit back.

Well.

You grab your phone from your desk to text Ellie’s contact number.

—————————

Ellie’s leg bounces anxiously as she waits alone in the coffee shop—where the three of you were to meet up. The coffee she ordered wasn’t helping either.

After 10 minutes of her checking the time and biting the inside of her cheek, the sound of the wind chimes by the entrance gets her attention, where she finally spots you and Abby as you both enter the shop.

Ellie stands up abrupty, the screech of her chair pushing back turning some heads, but she was too starstruck to notice, nor care. The sudden noise makes the two of you turn your heads too. Ellie smiled sheepishly before waving you over.

Safe to say Abby approved of her.

Well, both of you did.

Too much so that you had to pinch her side under the table when she kept ogling at the girl. And her also having to remind you of what this meeting was really for.

“You’re making her nervous.” She whispered through gritted teeth as she faked a smile, but her eyes warned. You returned a sarcastic sweet smile before going back to your conversation with Ellie.

From then on, the three of you would meet up after your classes and have small talk just to get to know Ellie more.

By the fifth time meeting up, you and Abby finally decided it was time to bring her to the gig studio you two frequented.

Time to see if you three could really work as a band.

—————————

Ellie rushes to her dorm room, almost stumbling forward as she takes off her shoes.

She’s panting, mind running as she plopped on her bed.

Closing her eyes tightly, Ellie tried to get rid of the thoughts currently running in her mind.

These are your NEW and FIRST bandmates. Please control yourself. Fucking hell, Ellie. You’re weird as fuck. Finding your bandmates hot WHILE playing? C’mon, don’t fuck this up. Are you a pervert?

Ellie groaned as she thought to herself, covering her face in embarassment.

Still, her mind wandered. Because how could Ellie miss it? When Abby’s arms flexed everytime she hit the drums—the sleeveless shirt she was wearing earlier only emphasizing her toned muscles. The way you smirked flirtatiously at Abby and her when it came to your favorite part of each song, and how the flickering lights in the studio somehow made you hotter—whenever you closed your eyes and threw your head back when singing a particularly high note. How you were effortlessly playing the bass while doing so made her even more flustered.

And don’t even get started on how much compliments you two would shower her when you’d get the chance.

With that, Ellie swallowed. The ache she felt far too much for her not to give in now.

With one last sigh, her hand trailed down.

When her fingers finally reach her waistband, she closes her eyes and finally lays her head back before dipping lower.

No one would know anyway.

—————————

“Dun-dun, dun-dun. My lips start to shake.” Abby mumbles, waving the pen around as she scratches off the last lyric she wrote down.

“This might be fake,” You suggested from behind Ellie as you clung onto her, both of you sat in the middle of your bed.

Much to Ellie’s surprise (and to her delight, though she won’t admit), you were quite touchy. So when you asked for her permission the first time to hug her from behind as the three of you brainstormed all of the band “necessities”, she was ultimately surprised. And flustered.

You could tell. Very easily, at that.

Abby had to hold back a chuckle of amusement at how flushed Ellie’s face looked as she nodded.

Ever since then, it basically became routine for you and Ellie.

Did Abby get jealous you were hogging Ellie everytime you guys were at your apartment? Very much. But then again, Abby’s the one who’s always with Ellie at campus. Seems fair enough.

“This-must-be-fake,” Ellie suggested in her own tune, and you repeat it a few times in your mind and nod as Abby jots it down.

“Okay, so after we finish this verse, all we have is the bridge and the post-chorus?” Abby looks up at you both for confirmation.

“Mhm.”

“Yep.”

“How’d you come up with this song anyway? This is the typa shit I’d religiously listen to when I was in highschool.” Abby curiously asked, looking at Ellie.

“You still listen to the songs you used to listen to in highschool.” You teased.

“Exactly.” She agreed before shifting her attention back to Ellie.

“Uh… don’t know, actually. It just came up to me after watching the second Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie.” She sheepishly admitted.

Abby shrugged in acknowledgement as she went back to thinking of what else to add on the last verse. You snickered as your face buried in Ellie’s neck, your hold on her getting slightly tighter, though she figured it was just you being you.

Abby knew very well what you were planning on doing, so the sight only makes her roll her eyes.

“Can we at least finish this verse before you fuck her?” Abby grumbled.

Ellie’s eyes widen. “W-What-“

You click your tounge at Abby’s comment. “I’ll help you,”

You then turn your attention back to Ellie, face still buried in her neck. “Can I?”

It takes her a while to respond, so you reassure. “We don’t have to if you don’t wanna. Just want to reward you for this… little song you wrote. I think this’ll be a hit when it comes out. Don’t you think so, Abby?”

Abby doesn’t even glance up from her notebook, biting the end of her pen as she re-read the lyrics she had already written.

“I’d hope so.”

“Right now?” Ellie croaks out.

“Up to you.”

—————————

“I’ve got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby,” Abby sung for example.

You hum in approval. “That’s how the bridge sounds?”

“Yep. I think it would also sound better if Ellie plays that part with a palm mute. Then for the pre-chorus, the beat drops again—then the grain of the guitar, like, fades as the song ends.” The blonde further explained.

“Sounds good! What do you think, Els?” You remove your hand covering her mouth, and she takes a big gasp of air before it’s turning into high-pitched whimpers.

Here she was, spread out and leaning back against your chest as your fingers curled up into her g-spot relentlessly. She had opted to close her legs from the overwhelming pleasure a minute or two ago, but you made Abby sit in between her legs, making it so she couldn’t do so.

Ellie’s grey hoodie was now bunched up above her chest, her jeans and underwear long gone. You freehand is pinching and pulling at her sensitive nipple as your other drilled into her at a pace she didn’t even know was fucking possible.

Ellie couldn’t help but throw her head back, trying her best to hold onto something to try and keep herself grounded. She landed on the plush of your thigh, her back arching as she sobbed out. “P-Please-uhh, fuck!”

Abby closed her notebook along with her pen inside, and she frowns. “You’re wearing her out before I even get a turn.”

You wrap your arm around Ellie’s neck as you re-angle your wrist—making it ache so much more, but the sounds Ellie were making make it so fucking worth it. You had her in some kind of chokehold, not enough to stop her breathing completely, but just right to hold her down and make her feel lightheaded.

“Be patient.” You say to Abby, before turning to Ellie. “Be quiet, baby. Abby’s getting jealous. Can’t let her know I’m making you feel too good now, can we?”

Abby’s eyes land on Ellie’s face, already looking so fucked out. Eyes half-lidded and watery, and her mouth hanging open with no other choice than to let out pants like a pathetic dog.

Without thinking, Abby leans forward to gently cup Ellie’s face, her entire body shaking by the force of your fingers still fucking into her. She slowly comes closer, waiting for Ellie to stop her. When it doesn’t come, Abby’s crashing their lips together.

You continue your rough pace as you laugh mockingly at the way Ellie very clearly struggles to keep up with Abby.

Abby decides to pull away and finally wait her turn. Patiently. She’ll have Ellie to herself after this anyway.

Ellie’s eyes brimmed with overwhelmed tears as she rasped out. “I-I’m—

Can I? Please, can-can I?”

“Can you what?” You ask condescendingly, knowing exactly what she was asking.

“Can I c-cum? Please! Fuck, I can’t—“ She sobs, trying her best to be good and to please you, but your fingers feel too good and you aren’t giving her any permission.

“Hmm.” You hummed cruelly, wanting to drag this out a bit longer.

“Y/N. Take it easy on her.” Abby spoke sternly, already taking pity on Ellie’s current state. Not because she herself was only eager to see Ellie cum.

Not at all.

The blonde gently puts her palm flat against Ellie’s lower abdomen and slowly applies pressure. She looks at you pleadingly.

You roll your eyes. “Cum for me.”

As soon as Ellie gets the confirmation, her cunt is squeezing your fingers, and her cum gushes onto your palm. The feeling of Abby pressing down on her lower abdomen only intensified the feeling of your fingers deep inside her pussy, tears now streaming down her face.

Her mouth opens in a silent scream as her entire body shakes, her brows furrowed like she was in pain, but the desperate rut of her hips against your hand could beg to differ.

When Ellie does manage to get a gasp of air, she’s shakily whimpering from sensitivity.

When she calmed down, you slowly pulls put your fingers, earning a small squeak from her.

You bring your fingers up to your face to taste her. Once you do, you look at Abby, who’s already looking at you expectantly, with a grin. “You lucky bastard.”

You slowly slide Ellie off of you as you get up, making sure she doesn’t fall.

Ellie is now laying on her back as her chest heaved up and down, still recovering from whatever other-worldly shit she just experienced just about a minute ago.

You land two gentle taps on her cheek to check in on her. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Ellie nodded, voice a bit hoarse.

Ellie looks down to see Abby’s large hands already smoothing up and down her thighs.

“You aren’t too tired, aren’t you?”

Ellie shook her head. “Mm-mm.”

You smiled at the interaction, knowing that she’s in for a hell of a treat with Abby.

You lean down to kiss Ellie gently as Abby now starts trailing kisses from the back of her knees to the inside of her thighs, gradually lifting them up over her shoulders.

When you pull away, you tuck away a strand of loose hair in Ellie’s face (among many others) with a fond smile.

“Welcome to the band, Ellie.”

—————————

A/N: I finished this half asleep. SORRY I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO POST ANY STORIES LATELY AAAA

I’ve been very very busy and I almost got hit by a bus last week so that’s a new experience

also sorry but I think this’ll be my last smut fic for a while (idk I still might write some other stuff while I’m at it) BECAUSE I just had a dream and I had the brilliant idea to make it into a story cause why not and I find it rlly interesting so I think I’ll be working on that for a while.

That’s all, THANK YEW

taglist: @bookpagecandlescent @raindontpourellie

I couldn’t find the other person that wanted to be tagged, ur tags are probably off :(( sorry

[it-happened-one-fic]

In The Dark - Idia

Author Notes: So I have never blamed Idia for kind of hating his hair, but in the same sentence, I really love the fiery hair. And that was the inspiration behind this fic. I wasn't listening to anything specific while I wrote/edited this, and it's been sitting in my google docs for a while. Now that I think of it though, its kind of funny that I'm posting this right after having finished posting the Ignihyde section of the vampire series. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral Reader/ sfw/ fluff/ romance implied/ sort of comfort I guess

Word Count: 1032

“It’s kinda nice how dark Ignihyde is…” I trailed off as I noticed Idia staring at me from where he sat in front of his monitor. 

Not only was he looking at me with no small amount of surprise, but he had also paused his game and actually swiveled his chair around so he could better stare at me incredulously. 

I honestly didn’t know whether to be flattered or uncomfortable with the sudden amount of pointed attention he directed my way as I shifted awkwardly under the weight of his sudden stare.

“I mean… I was just thinking about how it’s darker in here than in other places, and it’s kind of nice. Like a change of pace or something?” I fumbled slightly as I attempted to explain my previous words.

I shifted again, locking my hands together as he continued to just stare at me as I smiled at him awkwardly, “But then again that isn't too good for your eyes since you play games on your computer in here…. The intense lighting probably gets hard on them.”

At last he mercifully interrupted my rambling, rolling his eyes dramatically as he spoke, “I don’t have to worry about lighting. It’s never completely dark where I’m at.”

It was my turn to stare at him in confusion, eliciting a characteristic sigh from the housewarden. He pushed himself out of his chair in an almost bored manner and sloomed across the room and over to the light switch before looking my way pointedly, “Watch.”

With that single word, he clicked off the lights just as his computer fell asleep at an impressive rate, almost like he’d somehow cued it for maximum effect. 

But, instead of the utter, pitch-black darkness I was expecting, a soft blue glow filled the room, not unlike what one might expect from a computer screen. 

I blinked slightly as Idia looked at me sulkily from where he stood, illuminating the entire room with the just light from his hair. And in hindsight, it only made sense that Idia’s hair, being the flame that it was, would emit light. Especially since it usually casts at least a slight glow on him.

Idia managed a mildly bitter smile as he held my gaze and spread his hands, as if to gesture to the light he was putting off, “See? I can’t ever be in the dark….” 

He trailed off, his voice getting quieter till I could barely hear him, but I managed to make out the words, “I can’t ever hide, not even in the dark.”

I felt myself frown at his words, watching as he looked down and towards the ground, almost like he was ashamed.

I shifted, slipping my previously curled-up legs off his bed so I could stand, “Idia, do you not like your hair?” 

At my quiet words, he snorted, a distinctly bitter sound, “Wouldn’t you hate it? I’m a flame-haired weirdo. It’s no wonder everyone stares whenever I show up anywhere. It is, quite literally, a curse.” 

He looked up at me once more, yellow eyes bright even though the lighting was dim. But even then, I could clearly make out the scowl on his face.

I felt myself smile, though, as I stepped towards him, shaking my head slightly, “That’s a shame. I like your hair.” He blinked, staring at me incredulously yet again, but this time, rather than faltering, I let my laughter bubble out of me.

 “It’s true, I really do. While I do like the darkness of Ignihyde since it’s a change of pace, I also really like the light your hair puts out. It means you and whoever you’re with can never lose their way, even in the darkest of places.”

I stopped in front of him, still smiling up at him despite his confusion, and shrugged, “Call me a pyromaniac, but I’ve always thought fire is pretty. And blue flames are unique, so you don’t get to see them very often anyway.”

He blinked, still staring down at me with now widened eyes, and I felt my smile do what I’d thought was impossible; it grew. 

Somehow the fact he seemed to find it so hard to believe that I liked his hair was oddly cute.

“Just remember that everyone doesn’t see you as a freak and might even like the qualities of yours that you find so horrid,” I pointed out cheerfully, half-teasing him as I grinned at him playfully.

Idia swallowed, and silence hung between the two of us for a beat as I patiently waited for him to respond, genuinely curious as to what he would say. I didn’t receive a response, though. Instead, I flinched as he clicked the lights back on, the sudden brightness assaulting my eyes, causing me to let out a tiny but indignant, “Hey!”

“I guess⏤” He started, and his voice cracked slightly, causing him to go stiff before he slumped back down into his usual posture. His hands began to tangle into his long, flaming locks as he looked away. And I watched as the hair he held crushed in his hands began to slowly change from its usual pale blue into a soft pink that had my eyes widening before I held up a hand to cover the smile that started to creep onto my face. 

There was no telling how he would react if he figured out what was happening, and luckily, as he cleared his throat, he seemed unaware of his hair’s fascinating but slightly condemning behavior that made me love it even more than I already did. “I guess if you like it, then that’s alright… I mean, it can’t be all bad or whatever.”

I grinned at his less-than-honest behavior but opted to not call him on that or his blushing hair; better to just leave things be.

“Right, your hair is lovely just the way it is. And I hope you come to like it too.” He glanced at me, his gaze meeting mine as I smiled at him until he scoffed slightly, rolling his eyes and looking away again. But even then there was a slight smile on his face that betrayed his emotions.

[kingkatsuki]

— miscommunication

Based on this silly little post I made here. With inspiration from @/oooohno💕 basically Sakura can’t fathom anyone could ever like him like that.

Pairing: Sakura Haruka x f!reader.

Warnings: none, a little angsty, Sakura is bad at feelings.

Word Count: 2.9k.

You always feared getting your heart broken someday, you just hadn’t imagined it would happen like this. Sakura had always been kind to you, ever since you’d been introduced to him through Tsubakino. It was one of the many reasons why you found yourself falling for him. It had been impossible not to, and you’d spent the majority of the time working up the courage to finally ask him out. Convinced by the fact that Tsubaki had guaranteed he would say yes.

“He’d be a fool not to like you,” He said, glancing at you through his reflection in the small compact he carried with him. Giving you a reassuring wink as he applied a fresh layer of engine red lipstick, “You won’t know unless you try.”

But maybe you were the biggest fool of all because you definitely hadn’t expected Sakura Haruka to leave you standing alone in the middle of the park wearing a pretty sundress. An excruciating pain ruminated beneath your ribcage as you tried to fight back the ache of rejection.

The first step had been the most difficult— working up the courage to ask for his number. It seemed awkward to ask for it straight up, but you also didn’t want to just get it off Tsubaki in case it crossed any unspoken boundaries. So you decided it might be easier to give him yours, writing it down onto a napkin from Kotoha’s restaurant one morning while you waited for her to pour your coffee. Before slowly sliding it across the bar to Sakura, who was shovelling omelette rice into his mouth. His pink cheeks bulged with food as he skimmed the note, looking up at you with a frown.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” You smiled softly as you thanked Kotoha for the coffee, walking out through the door into the warm morning sun.

If he didn’t want to what? Sakura thought to himself as he scanned your number on the white napkin. Why did you give him your cell phone number? Sakura pondered the reasons as he continued to shovel the warm egg omelette rice into his mouth. You could want to hang out as friends, but you’d never showed any indication of wanting to do so prior. Or perhaps you were looking for protection, although that didn’t make sense when you were so close to Tsubaki who was a force to be reckoned with alone.

You didn’t need protection— so what if you’d given him your number so you could fight? It made the most sense to Sakura. It had to be why you stared at him each morning when you came in for your coffee, almost as if you were sizing him up with expectation, and today was the day you’d decided to extend the invitation. He waited until he’d finished his plate before fishing his cell phone out of his pocket to send you a text message.

Even after Kiryu had added Sakura to a Furin group chat all those years ago, Sakura was never the best at texting. He tests the words against the screen as he debates how to properly respond. Backspacing until he finally settles on a simple, yet concise answer and he hits send.

Sakura[9.49AM]: I want to.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing to, but it had to be some sort of fight. He’d never trained with you before, so it couldn’t be that. And if you were friends with Tsubaki-chan, perhaps you enjoyed fighting too.

You[9.53AM]: hi! I’m glad you texted, I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted to go or not but I’m glad you do!!! Honestly, it’s made my day :)

Sakura reread the text twice, just to make sure he understood what you meant. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go— so you were looking for a fight.

Sakura[9.55AM]: When?

He texts back, glancing at the screen as he notices the three little dots appear at the bottom to signal you are typing back.

You[9.57AM]: Meet me in the park by the swings at 7pm :)

Sakura read the text three times with a frown— 7pm. So you really did want to fight him? That would surely be the only reason you wanted to meet so late.

It felt like a shame to fight you, especially when your face is so pretty. Sakura feels his cheeks flush at the thought as he pictures that same sweet smile you give him each day when he sees you enter the restaurant to order your usual coffee to go, while he tries to hide his face in his omelette rice.

But you’re best friends with Tsubaki-chan so you must be strong, and maybe that’s the reason why you’ve chosen to fight him. And he’s never one to back down, and you’ve set the stage now so he has no choice but to agree. Sending back a single word as his fingers glide across his phone screen.

Sakura[10.00AM]: Yes.

Sakura isn’t sure how he’s supposed to prepare for this, or if he even needs to. He’s never seen you fight before, although he’s certainly seen you mad. Your soft hands balled into tight fists as you warned off a guy for getting a little too close, so close in fact that even Sakura was decidedly about to jump in— until you managed to get him to back off and leave.

Okay, maybe you were strong—

He doesn’t know anything about your fighting technique, or the way you hold yourself. Wondering whether you have a similar style to Tsubaki, and that’s why you’re so close? But he’s friends with Suo and Nirei and they don’t fight like him, so maybe that doesn’t make sense, he frowns. He’s known you for a while, and this is the first time you’ve shown any indication you want to fight, so now he’s started to overthink everything. Contemplating how he’ll be able to get the upper hand— or what spoils will be offered to the victor?

He makes sure he’s early, arriving at the park ten minutes before your scheduled fight with his hands bundled into fists inside his jacket pockets. But he’s surprised to see you already there and waiting, his roaring heartbeat catches in his throat at the sight of you as he almost forgets to breathe—

You’re sitting there waiting wearing the prettiest dress Sakura thinks he’s ever seen. A flowy sundress that hugs your curves in all the right places, embarrassed when his eyes are instantly drawn to the cleavage that spills out of the top. Your bare skin has a dull throb pounding at the back of his head as though he’d just been sucker punched as he wonders whether he’s still standing or how you’re this strong.

The moment he first saw you, he remembers a word that Suo had taught him to describe things like this— and he reckons that’s exactly what you are. Ethereal.

His cheeks burn a fiery red as he risks a glance further down, the soft material of the dress stops just above your knee as he follows the path of your legs to see your feet encased in pretty wedge sandals that strap around your ankles. There was no way you’d come to fight like this— in fact, he couldn’t fight you like this, could he?

“Hey.” You notice him staring as you stand up to walk towards him, and Sakura is certain that he won’t be able to land a single hit when the scent of your perfume surrounds him.

“W-what are you wearing?!” He shouts, despite the fact you’ve come to stand in front of him and it takes you aback.

The same insecurities begin to shroud you as they did when you were preparing to meet him. Standing in front of your full-length mirror as you tried on various outfits until you came to settle on this one, almost deciding against it at the last minute before you checked the time and noticed if you didn’t leave you might be late.

“Oh— you don’t like it, do you?” You fiddled with the strings at the front of the dress that were tied into a pretty, thin bow. Sakura’s eyes couldn’t look away as they followed the movement, noticing your pretty painted nails before he found himself staring at the hint of skin that peeked out of the top of the dress, “I knew I should’ve worn the other dress, it’s not quite as light as this one. God, I feel stupid.”

One of the thin straps was dangerously close to falling down your shoulder, and now Sakura wasn’t even sure he’d be able to land a single punch. This had to be some kind of distraction technique.

“You can’t fight in that!” Sakura raises his arm in an accusatory point, trying to stop himself from shaking and showing any signs of fear as he tries desperately to tame the fierce blush that streaked across the apples of his cheeks.

“I can’t fight in this?” Sakura despised how adorable you looked when you cocked your head to the side with your words, his heart banging like a marching band as he thought about his initial statement— maybe he was foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in this.

When he’d watched Tsubaki fight, he’d always notice men that would get distracted from his short skirts and heeled boots— was this what you were trying to do to him now? Was this your plan all along?

“It’s—” He tries to get the words out, but it’s difficult when you look so cute, “It’s not— it isn’t—”

“It isn’t what?” You take a small step closer and the sudden movement had his fight or flight instinct kicking in as Sakura turned to run. Escaping in a hasty sprint as he left you standing alone in the park, the sun slowly falling over the horizon.

You try to ignore the ache in your chest when Sakura turns to run, wondering why he’d even bother to show up at all when he was going to reject you anyway. But then you suppose that’s one of the reasons why you even like him in the first place— he’s way too thoughtful and considerate of others. That’s probably why he didn’t want to reject you over text, and he’d come to tell you face to face.

Trying to stop the tears from falling as pearlescent droplets collect in your thick lashes to blur your vision, blinking them back you pull out your phone to rest Tsubaki. The first text sitting at the top of your phone is still your message chain with Sakura as you reread the “Yes” he’d sent you hours earlier. You were so stupid.

It’s the first fight Sakura has ever run from in his twenty-two years, and he hates himself for it. Hates that you managed to win on pure tactics alone as he makes his way back to the restaurant to find his friends.

His chest is heaving when he finally makes it through the door, knocking the wood so hard it almost flies off its hinges as wild eyes search for his friends. Thankful they seem to be the only people inside as he makes a beeline for them, his two-toned hair now windswept and pushed back from his forehead as it sticks up in all directions.

“You’re back quick?” Kiryu notes, his thumb pauses on his screen to take note of Sakura’s dishevelled appearance.

“Did she stand you up?” Nirei asks, concerned.

“No.” Sakura deadpans, still standing by the table despite there being a free seat in front of him as he leans his weight on the balls of his feet.

“You stood her up?” Kiryu locks his phone and places it down on the table as he raises a questioning brow, “That’s really not how to treat a girl, Sakura. I thought you—”

“I went there!” Sakura shouts, louder than necessary inside the small cafe as his hands ball into fists on either side of him.

“What happened?” Suo asks calmly, trying to diffuse the situation, but there’s a curious lilt to his tone.

“S-she was there.” Sakura tries to work out how to explain what happened, as his nose scrunches pensively.

“Okay? So that’s good, right?” Nirei smiles.

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura is loud, immediately regretting his volume as the heat rising inside his body starts to become uncomfortable. Slouching down to sit beside Suo as he mumbles, “You can’t fight in a dress—”

“Girls can fight in anything,” Kiryu smiles, as Sakura looks across the table at him. So you did want to fight? “But I don’t think that’s what she had in mind.”

Oh. So if you didn’t want to fight him, then what else did you want?

“Well, where is she now?” Suo questioned, and Sakura answered for him with a sheepish look paired with a deep pink blush all the way down to his shoulders, “You left her in the park?”

“Wait— on her own?” Nirei continued, “Why would you do that?”

And somehow it sounded worse when his best friend put it like that. Sakura hadn’t left you alone, or at least he hadn’t meant to. You were there alone before he’d even got there, almost like he’d just stopped in passing. You were fine—

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura repeated with an angry rasp to his tone.

“Sakura, you messed up.” Kiryu starts laughing playfully, shaking his head, “You’re gonna have her and Tsubaki-chan mad at you now. I can’t believe you did that to her— the poor girl.“

“What?!” Sakura baulks, “But she’s the one that text me!”

Sakura never wanted to fight you, why would he? You were far too pretty— too delicate to be subjected to that. He didn’t want to think about you fighting anyone, the thought alone had that same strange feeling bubbling in his tummy as he pictured you coming out of the fight hurt. That same seated desire inside him burning red hot at the thought— Sakura is certain he’d fight to the death to protect every single inch of you, to stop any harm from coming to you.

“What do you think it means when a girl gives you her number?” Sakura sat back beside Suo as he pondered the question.

The only phone number he had stored in his phone outside Bofurin friends and Togame from Shishitoren was Kotoha, and that was because she’d grabbed his phone the same day he’d given it to Kiryu. But Sakura didn’t mind so much because she always brought him food. But he didn’t think that’s why you’d given your number to him, was it?

“Iunno.” He mumbled gruffly, his lips curling into a pout, “That she wants to fight.”

Tsubaki-chan had texted him to spar all the time, it wouldn’t be weird to think you’d do the same.

Kiryu shot Suo a look as he gave his friend a soft smile, before trying a different approach. It was clear after knowing him for so many years, that Sakura was inexperienced in things outside the reemits of fighting.

“Have you never found a girl pretty before, Sakura-kun?” Suo asks,

“Shaddup!” Sakura snaps swiftly, already feeling a dangerous heat rise inside him— but it’s at that same moment where he really ponders the question.

Kotoha is pretty, he supposes. Thinking back to the first time he met her when she offered him a warm plate of food with a kind smile, remembering the heat that plumed inside him that followed her kindness as Sakura found himself coming back to her.

Sakura is certain he thinks Tsubaki is pretty too, although none of them seem to compare to how he feels about you. The incessant pounding of his heart against his rib cage at the mere thought of you, your saccharine perfume makes him feel dizzy and yet he hates when you’re not around so he has to remember the way it smells. The sound of your laughter causes more than just a subtle warmth inside him like Kotoha, it's more like a blazing inferno that courses through his veins like molten lava that’s impossible to extinguish. And the way you manage to fluster him without even being there— he’s constantly thinking about your face before he falls into a dreamless sleep, and waking up to wonder what you’re doing right now.

Tsubaki would probably think he’s foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in a pretty sundress with sandals when he fights in a skirt and heels all the time. Maybe it would give you some kind of advantage, a way to get the upper hand. The sandals wedge gave you a slight height advantage sure, but would that be enough to beat him?

“Are you listening, Sakura?”

“Yeah.” He pushes his chair out with a harsh screech against the hardwood floor as he moves to leave, frantic in his search for you as he hopes you’re still standing where he left you.

[suhlogic]

smile for the camera [kmg x fem!oc]

mingyu x camgirl! oc [roommates] 

summary: little did you know mingyu has been a subscriber of your onlyfans account and has a little crush on you. 

warnings: dom!mingyu, sub!fem reader, unprotected sex, choking kink, size kink, cum eating, mingyu’s a bit possessive, corruption kink, slight voyeurism

you and mingyu have been  roommates for a  year now, it was an unexpected thing for you to have a guy roommate but you really had no choice as you were out of living options to live in since the school year was beginning so when you saw mingyu kim's post on twitter through your mutual friend seokmin, you grabbed the chance and thank god he actually agreed to such an arrangement. it honestly helped that you two were in the same social circle as it was less awkward but if it came to your dynamics, you and mingyu simply got closer as the months went by. you've also grown to know that he is organized, knows his household chores, and is a gentleman on top of being 6'2 feet tall, absolutely handsome and ripped due to  consistently working out, and his golden skin that just  looks so dreamy whenever the sunlight seeps through your shared apartment. he was also funny and extroverted which you needed and never failed to always comfort you after a long day. as the days went on, he began to grow on you. but little did he know, whenever he was out for his late night workouts you were actually an onlyfans streamer. you started to stream as a hobby, a side hustle your best friend, karina recommended that you do since you were bored out of your mind and no men were just ever enough for you to be satisfied. plus, it was good money and was raking in what you needed to pay the bills for the shared apartment although you and mingyu split the bills.  

lately, you find yourself growing more attracted to mingyu. you didn't know if it was just the dry spell that was luring you into him like a moth to a flame  or the fact that he was a godsend in your messy life. surely, it couldn't just be purely platonic as he slowly became the guy you constantly fantasized about while touching yourself across your body wishing it was his hands doing all the work instead whenever you'd stream and film content. on the other hand, mingyu knew your little secret. you'd think he was still away for hours on end spending dinner with your other friends after hitting the gym but he was always on the other side of the wall, hearing your moans and screams as he jacked himself off every night longing to feel his huge dick inside you. imagining what it'd be like to have you under his touch like you were being set ablaze only screaming and moaning for him out of sheer pleasure. whenever mingyu would see you walk around in tight shorts and oversized shirts in the morning with no underwear in sight, it'd take all of his patience not to fuck you hard in every spot of your place and it wasn't something you both were strangers to—hell, you were always catching him shirtless and it really was a sight to be gazing at. you just hoped and prayed that your feelings won't prevail and make you do something stupid. 

friday nights began with your usual routine of dressing up in your cutest pink lingerie and doing your makeup as you put on a matching lace mask that resembled a butterfly. after being done, you set up your stream and the vibrator and dildo you were to use later on for your show. "hey guys, how's everyone doing? i hope your week went well," you happily greeted your viewers as they began to enter your livestream.

[clumsypup0697]: hi angel i missed you 

[clumsypup0697]: have you been busy?

[g4m3bo1]: want to see all of you so bad baby

the last comment on your stream made you blush and teased whoever user g4m3bo1 was on the other end of the screen. "aw, you missed me that much gameboy?" you smirk as you began to take off the straps of your bra and began to fondle with your tits. 

[clumsypup0697]: fuck, you're so hot i wish i was doing that to you 

[g4m3bo1]: youre driving me crazy baby 

clumsypup0697 tipped $8

[sebcherries]: need company? i can help😉

as your hands began to travel lower to your wet heat, you moved backward to lay yourself on your pillow to give them a view of your slick pussy and teased yourself with your fingers rubbing your folds and the bud of your clit. your moans became louder as you began to add a third digit inside, eyes closed in euphoria wishing it was mingyu doing such a thing to you. you began to insert your dildo and the sound of coins clinking which meant that the tips began to rake in on your stream. you didn't care if your moans were getting louder or if your hottie of a roommate already arrived. 

sebcherries tipped $20

clumsypup0697 tipped $35

g4mebo1 tipped $40

ho3shi tipped $35

on the other side of the wall, mingyu decided to cancel his friday night plans to go outside. so he just decided to go on his favorite camgirl's stream room who went by her online name— strawberryviolet. he's been a huge fan since stumbling across her channel just purely deciding to jack off his stress away one night. as he watched the girl slide the huge dildo in and out of her tight wetness, he couldn't help but jerk his huge dick off faster thinking how y/n's pussy would feel instead. as the moans got louder on the stream, so did the moans from the other room. he rushed to clean himself up and exit the stream he was watching. but holy fuck, he was met with a sight to behold— his roommate was a camgirl all along, and he was her fan. the difference was that she just had a mask on. 

"holy shit!l" he exclaimed, snapping you out of your pleasure. you quickly turned off your stream and rushed to cover yourself up in front of mingyu, "what the hell are you doing here, gyu?" you asked in frustration. "had nothing better to do but turns out i'm roommates with a cam girl?" he smirks as he leaned against your door. shirtless just wesring his boxers, his huge manhood still definitely erect the way it's almost bulging. "i can explain, please..." you pleaded but he just smiled again. "strip for me," he said with a demanding tone and so you did, baring it all for your roommate you're clearly growing feelings for.  "you're so fucking obedient huh?" he walks over to you as his fingers ghost over your face and lips which sent goosebumps down your spine. mingyu pulled you into a deep kiss with your tongues tied, "gyu, please fuck me..." you begged. "baby, you have no idea how long i've fucking waited..." he says as he picks you up and carries you to your bed, carefully laying you down as he left kisses and hickeys all over your body. "so fuckin' gorgeous, can't believe you're showing this off to the whole world...'s all mine," he whispers as he began to suck on your left boob while fondling the other one with his hand. "been watching your streams for fuckin months now..always would jack off to you every damn night thinking about how i'd fuck my hot roommate," he says  gazing up at you with eyes that had sin painted all over them as he slowly began to kiss you down to your clit, his teasing leaving you on edge. "be patient baby, we got all night." his breath fans against your pussy. he strip your panties off with his teeth and continues to eat you out with his skilled tongue like he craved for you so desperately. his toned forearms and huge hands gripping the back of your thighs securing you in his hold as he began to suck and create random figures on your clit. his pace going faster as your moans got louder, mingyu looked like such a fucking god in between your  thighs.  all you could do was tug on his hair as he ate you out. 

"i'm close baby please...let me cum," you stare at him with puppy eyes as he hovered on top of you to kiss you again. "not yet angel, i need to cum inside you," he says through gritted teeth as he grabbed you by the neck with both his hands to kiss you once more.  mingyu then began to flip you over on all fours without pulling out his dick inside your wet and slick pussy. "so fuckin gorgeous," he slowly buries himself inside you to the hilt and goes slow as his hand has both of your hands gripped against your lower back while the other holds your waist down. you never knew heaven could exist until you felt every inch of him inside you, making sure you're screaming and moaning for him only within the confines of your own bedroom. "gyu, please let me cum, gonna be so good for you..." you whine out as he slaps your butt cheek and squeezes your ass while he thrusts his huge dick inside you. as mingyu begins to pound into you harder and faster, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. he then flips you over into a missionary position and puts your legs over his shoulders and pounds you slowly, the stretch teasing your pussy much more different from earlier. "gyu, please go faster..." you whine, almost running out of words to say while you were fondling with your huge tits as he rubbed your clit with the pad of his thumb. mingyu looks so fucking hot on top of you— you thought,  his short cropped hair driving you insane as his sculpted body glistens like honey due to the sweat, brows furrowed focused on wanting you to reach your high. you grab onto his arms as you felt his thrusts get sloppier and his hand tightening around your neck, just choking you right. you thought mingyu would stop there but immediately takes his dick out of you and dives his head in between your legs and eats you out once more, "want you to cum on my tongue baby, yeah?" he smirks as he begins to lick figure eights on your labia and sucks your clit til you reached your first high.  

as he hovers on top of you, he flashes you a devilish grin and says, "so fucking sweet, just like how i thought" and you put your arms around his neck and pull him in for a long passionate kiss. mingyu inserts his length once again inside you and thrusts at a faster pace repeatedly as you feel him getting sloppy once more inside, "angel, i'm so fucking close...let me cum inside yeah?" he moans as he kisses your neck, sucking on it which would definitely leave a hickey later on. "yes, please daddy...i'm yours.." you moan out and it sends him over the edge as you feel his cum gush inside of you and some of it trickling down your legs. the two of you come down from your high and he lays on the bed beside you for a while and pulls you close against his broad chest wrapping his arms around your naked body, "how long have you known?" you asked looking up at him as your head was laid on his chest while he ran his fingers through your hair, "well, i've been your fan since i almost walked in on you a few months back" he says gently while he smiled at you, flashing his sharp canines that you always adored. the two of you clean up, well mostly mingyu because you could barely walk and drift off into slumber, naked bodies entangled under the sheets yet the thought of him asking you "what are we?" floats in his mind as he closes his eyes. 

[serumandsteel]

The Shape of Silence | B.Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It’s been three years since you ran, from your old life, from the wreckage, and from the man who terrified you in the quietest way... not for what he’d done, but how he made you feel. You built your silence carefully, stitched it together with fake names and faraway places. But peace never lasts, not for people like you. All it takes is one call—Sam’s voice on the line—and suddenly, you’re being dragged back into the ruins. Back to the man you swore you’d never face again. The question is: will you run again, or finally break? 

Warnings: PTSD, post-Blip trauma, references to violence and past missions, slow-burn romance, unresolved feelings… all the fun things 

A/N: usually I’m the one reading and not the one writing but I felt inspired and also have been in the bucky mood. feedback also appreciated…. possibly a series or pt 2

word count: 2k

read pt 2 here

You were doing really well, actually.

New name, new country, no government agency trying to shoot you in the back of the head. A small miracle.

You had a place that didn’t leak when it rained, a coffee guy who didn’t ask questions, and a rotating list of burner phones that no one—not even the faces of your complicated past could trace.

You even started keeping houseplants alive. Mostly.

For once, things were… quiet.

Which, of course, was the exact moment the universe decided to light a match and toss it directly into your hair.

Three years. That’s how long it had been since the world ended and then conveniently stitched itself back together like nothing happened. Three years, since you came back from the Blip and decided—very rationally, you might add—that disappearing again on your terms was the only way to survive it.

Three years of running. Three years of trying not to think about what—or who—you left behind.

The burner phone buzzed once against the counter, screen flashing with a number you didn’t recognize — which, ironically, meant you did.

You stared at it, chewing the inside of your cheek like that would somehow make the call vanish.

Second buzz.

You sighed.

“Goddammit, Wilson. Should’ve known you’d find me eventually,” you said, voice low, hoarse from disuse and cheap cigarettes.

There was a pause, just long enough to sting.

“You always were shit at staying hidden” came Sam’s voice, warm with just enough snark to remind you this wasn’t entirely a social call.

A crooked smile ghosted across your lips as you leaned back against the counter, a chipped ceramic mug in one hand, coffee long gone cold.

“Excuse you. I’ve been off the grid so long, I forgot what my own voice sounds like.”

“Yeah, but I still found you. What’s this, identity number seven?”

“Eight,” you corrected. “But who’s counting?”

“Guess the Norwegian botanist gig didn’t pan out?” Sam chuckled.

“I killed that identity for a tofu vendor gig. Got to wear linen and pretend I was at peace. It was very convincing.”

“You hate tofu.”

“Yeah, well. I was really committing to the bit.”

Sam chuckled softly. But then the laughter faded, replaced by something heavier.

“I know you’ve been trying,” he said gently. “Trying to start fresh. Do something... else.”

There was a pause, long enough to feel like a dare.

“You gonna say ‘but’?” you asked, already bracing.

He exhaled through his nose. “But I don’t think it’s working.”

Your knuckles tightened around the mug. The silence stretched. “I thought I was,” you said. “For a while.”

Because you had been, sort of. At first.

It was easy to pretend. To play normal. There were days where the quiet didn’t feel suffocating, where you could almost believe the life you built wasn’t held together with duct tape and denial.

You were sleeping through the night. Making breakfast. Watching trash TV. Laughing at dumb things. Smiling at strangers. Almost human.

But then the stillness started getting loud.

The nightmares crept back in, uninvited and sharper than before. Not of missions, or gunfire, or enemy intel—those, you could handle. These were different. These were memories.

Your mother’s hands in the garden. Your brother calling you Bug just to piss you off. The last family dinner where no one knew you were already halfway out the door. You used to tell yourself it was noble, what you did. That burning the old life down was worth it.

But in the dark, none of that held up. In the dark, you could still hear the screams and torment. And not just the ones from others. Your own, too. 

A beat passed. You stepped away from the window, drawn to the flickering TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t turned the damn thing on in weeks. Now it was flashing grainy footage of John Walker shaking hands and flashing a rehearsed grin. The stars and stripes on his chest made your teeth grind.

“You really let that dropkick parade around with the shield?” you muttered, not bothering to hide the disgust in your voice.

Sam groaned. “Don’t start.”

“He looks like someone ironed Steve’s suit onto a wax figure and then taught it how to lie.”

“That’s generous.” Sam grunted.

“He’s a PR stunt with a punchable face.” You really despised this man and you hadn’t even met him. You didn’t want to meet him.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he said.

You shook your head and turned the TV off, the screen cutting to black with a flicker. “Steve would’ve hated this.”

“He did,” Sam said quietly.

The weight of that landed between you like a stone. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The name had only gotten harder to say since he’d… left. Since the shield passed hands. Since everything broke apart.

“I need you on something,” Sam said finally, voice a shade more serious. “We’ve got a situation brewing. Weapons smuggling, data leaks, all the usual mess. This one’s different, though. Real quiet. Real coordinated. Thought it might be your kind of thing.”

“You’re calling to ask for my help or to tell me I’ve already been volunteered?”

“Bit of both.”

You arched a brow. “You just miss having me in your ear, admit it.”

“That too,” he said, and you could hear the smile return to his voice. “I wouldn’t be calling if I had other options. But you’re still the best I’ve got.”

You hesitated, letting the pause stretch out. “Where?”

“I’ll send you coordinates. You’ll be working remotely, running comms and intel. Nothing on the ground.”

“And who else is on the team?” There was a silence. Not long, but long enough.

“Barnes,” he said finally. “And... Walker.” Your throat tightened. Of course.

“You didn’t tell Bucky you were calling me, did you?” Anxiety slowly creeping up your spine.

“Would you have picked up if I did?” Fair point.

“He’s... been different,” Sam added, cautiously. “Since the Blip. Since—everything. But he’s trying. He really is.”

“I’m not.” The words came faster than you meant them to.

Sam didn’t push it. “You answering my call at all says otherwise.”

You didn’t answer. Just stared at the black screen where Walker’s face had just been, distorted in static, and thought about how easy it had been to disappear. How hard it was to stay gone.

You’d carved yourself a quiet life out of the rubble — made it your religion not to look back. But the moment Sam’s voice cracked through the static, all that dust you’d buried rose up like ash in your lungs.

“Fine,” you said. “I’ll run intel over coms. But I’m not getting on the ground, I haven't trained combat in years”

“Not asking you to.”

“Don’t let him talk to me.”

“Which him?”

You didn’t answer that either. And Sam didn’t press. “I’ll send the drop point,” he said softly.

You ended the call before he could say anything else.

flashback

The sun was beginning to set, casting long golden fingers across the lush canopy that framed the edge of the Wakandan safe zone. From the hut’s open doorway, you watched the way the light bled through the trees, painting everything in warm, dying fire.

Behind you, the wooden floor creaked softly. You didn’t need to look to know it was him.

“You’re not resting,” Bucky said, his voice rough from sleep.

You smirked, arms folded over the railing. “You sound like Shuri.”

“She’s right.” A pause. “You never stop moving.”

“And you’re one to talk?”

That earned you a quiet huff — the closest he got to laughter most days. His presence moved closer. You felt it before you heard it. The subtle shift of air. That quiet storm energy he carried, always simmering. Always one bad day from boiling over.

“You were with Ayo today?” you asked.

His jaw tightened. “Yeah. She ran through a few more words. Just to see.” He shrugged, but it didn’t look casual. “I didn’t… snap this time.”

“That’s good,” you said softly.

He didn’t answer. Just looked out toward the trees, the silence suddenly too heavy for the space you were sharing.

“She says I’m close. To the end of it.”

“You’ve made a lot of progress, Bucky. You should be proud of yourself.” You gave him a small smile, but he didn’t quite return it. Just looked at you, brow furrowed like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out.

“You’re still looking at me like I’m going to snap,” he said after a moment.

Your heart dropped.

“I’m not,” you replied, too quickly.

“You are.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky.”

He studied you for a moment longer, then looked away, jaw tight.

“But you were watching me.” He said it like a fact, not an accusation. “Back in Bucharest. After what happened with Steve. I wasn’t stupid — I knew someone was following me.”

You said nothing.

“Steve told you to keep an eye on me?”

A beat passed. “Yes,” you admitted. “At first.”

His eyes met yours then, sharp and unreadable.

“And after?”

You swallowed. “After... I wasn’t doing it for Steve anymore.”

Something shifted in his expression. Like a crack in armor — small, but real. He looked away again, down at his hand, fingers flexing like he didn’t quite trust they belonged to him.

“You think I’m still him,” he said. “The Winter Soldier.”

“I don’t,” you said, stepping closer. “But you do.”

He flinched like you’d hit him.

“I see you,” you added, softer this time. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

The silence stretched between you like a taut wire. You could feel the tension in your chest — the part of you that had been trying so hard not to care too much. To keep your distance. Keep it professional. Just until he was stable. Just until you could leave.

But there was nothing professional about the way he was looking at you now.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you whispered.

“Why?” His voice was low. Raw. “Because of what I did?”

“No. Because of how I feel.”

That stopped him cold.

The air between you buzzed — tense and fragile, like it might crack if either of you moved too fast. You felt your pulse in your throat, in your fingertips, in the space between where he ended and you began. You were suddenly so aware of how close he was. How few barriers still stood between you and everything you’d tried to ignore.

“I’ve killed people,” Bucky said quietly, voice just above a whisper. “I’ve hurt people.”

You didn’t blink. Didn’t back away.

“And I’ve hunted people,” you said. “Lied to people I love. Built systems that could level entire nations. You think that makes either of us clean?”

He didn’t reply. Just watched you — like you were the first light he’d seen in a long, long time.

Your voice softened. “You’re not a monster, Bucky. You never were. You were just… alone.”

And now you were close. Too close. Inches. Breaths. The space between you felt electric. His hand lifted slowly, hesitating at the edge of your jaw like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch. Like the smallest move might ruin everything.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he said, barely audible.

You gave him a crooked smile, sad and sure all at once. “You already have. So have I.”

And then his hand touched your face — rough and warm, grounding. You leaned into his palm without thinking, like your whole body had been waiting for this. Like this was the first real thing you’d felt in months.

You don’t remember who kissed who first.

Only that it was desperate and aching, like you both knew it wasn’t going to last. Like you’d already made peace with the fact that everything was about to come crashing down.

But for now, in this sliver of stolen time, you let yourselves fall.

a/n possibly may be turning this into a mini series - chapter 2 is brewing