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#at least it’s not the metro I guess?

risuola · 29 days

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▶ ONE BEDROOM? — short memory about how you found yourself sharing a bed with two of your best friends.

contents: college!au, roommates to be, fluffy, silly Satoru, caring Suguru and all that jazz — 0,9k words

a/n: feel free to send me suggestions for entries of this series! any specific situations you think might be funny? any topics that sound interesting to you? let me know!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Alright, I found one,” Satoru informed, a grin of mischief tugging on his lips and both you and Suguru knew immediately that there are some gears turning below the mop of white hair of your best friend. “Near our uni, rent’s cheaper than any other we looked at, it looks nice, and there’s even a balcony for the addict. Available anytime.”

It sounded too good to be true, really. You’ve been looking for weeks now, desperate to find the right balance between the price and quality and it turned out to be the hardest thing you had to face in your lives. It was honestly a nightmare, turned out that you were way too late to find a rental with three rooms in the college area – everything was already taken and you were forced to scratch the idea of all having separate rooms. Two bedrooms, turned out, were just as hard to find. You were slowly coming to terms that you’re gonna have to either spend three hours in metro every day just to get in and out of uni or pay an unreasonable amount of money just to live even moderately close. In your head, you already saw yourself searching for the second job.

“Where’s the catch?” Suguru’s raised an eyebrow, his mind analytic as always and his questioning tone matched your thoughts perfectly. He wrapped one arm around your waist and reached with the other to snatch a phone out of Gojo’s hands, but the snow-whites grin grew even wider as he dodged the attempt. You could feel your friend taking a deeper breath behind your back, you were seated next to him, resting against his body whilst Satoru was on the floor, with his head comfortably on your thigh. “Is it one of those ‘rent a room along with ten other students’ kind of deal?”

“Nah, it’s a separate apartment. It’s not big, by any means, but as far as I’m concerned, it should be more than enough for us,” you reached your hand, but instead of giving you his phone, Gojo put his chin on your palm, smiling with the typical amount of cat-like mischief. “In fact,” he said, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a loud pop and threatening to lick you. The trail of sticky sugar covering his lips in a reddish tint from the cherry, his favorite, flavored candy. “I already sent a message to the renter.”

“Toru, spill it,” you pushed, pinching his cheek and with a theatrical roll of his pretty blue eyes, he put his phone into your hand, sticking the candy back into his mouth. You leaned back against Suguru’s chest again and with his head on your shoulder, you swiped through the pictures of the offer. “It… does look nice?”

“Sus,” the brunette mumbled, reaching to swipe over the screen with his own finger. “Very sus. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Satoru said in fake offense and got up to his knees to peek on what you two were doing, sticking his nose in front of the screen so aggressively that you had to push him away. “But—”

“Wait, is there one bedroom in this apartment?” You noticed. The pictures you were analyzing all showed the same room and the living area with joined kitchen, the bathroom, and again the same room, and some weird kind of storage? and again the same room.

“That explains a lot,” Suguru laughed lightly and leaned back again.

“We can see the place in an hour” Satoru showed off his pearly whites. “Come on, let’s at least see it, yeah?”

“I guess we can see it,” you gave it a nod. “The price is really nice.”

“Alright… so let’s get going.”

And so, all of you hopped on the bikes, you behind Satoru, and took the ride to see the apartment. Turned out, it really was perfect. Despite the apartment having just one bedroom, it was spacious enough to fit all three of you. The bed was so big it could easily fit five and during the many years of friendship, you and two of your friends shared way too many single person mattresses, sandwiched and squished together to think twice about it. The odd storage room seemed to be a perfect candidate to become a guest room (later called: a fuck room).

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Satoru grinned, looking at both of you as he was bouncing his ass on the bed, testing it as if he was already the owner.

“It is nice, I’ll admit,” you said, looking at Suguru to hear his opinion, but the man seemed to be thinking still. “Sug?”

“For me, it’s perfect. But,” he looked at you, a concern clearly written in his eyes, “is it alright with you?”

Geto has a way of constantly reminding you why you love him. He doesn’t look like it, in fact, he looks quite intimidating to anyone who doesn’t know him, but to you he’s just the sweetest, most caring friend you could ever wish for. If anyone was to worry about your comfort, it was him because it is true that all three of you slept together already, sharing sheets and being as close and personal as it was possible, but a random sleepover doesn’t equal sleeping with them every single day.

“It’s fine with me, don’t worry,” you reassured him, squeezing his bicep playfully.

“If it’s fine with you, then I guess we have a place.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams

506 notes · View notes

yunhoszn · 2 months

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save a horse, ride a cowboy

PAIRING jeong yunho x f!reader

WORD COUNT 12.25k

GENRES fluff﹒angst﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, reader is a city girl but i tried not using too many gendered terms, cowboy!yunho RAHHHHH, mentions of food, reader has a boyfriend for most of the fic (an oc) but there’s no real infidelity, reader embarrasses themselves on what i’d say is a few occasions too many, yunho is down bad, masturbation (m! and brief f! receiving), lowkey voyeurism, a really bad dad joke, horse riding scene bc i feel that’s pivotal for a cowboy fic, lots and lots of kissing, marking, teasing, vaginal fingering x2, oral sex (f! receiving) x2, multiple orgasms, very slight edging, praise, pet names (baby, babe, and princess oops), unprotected sex (BE SAFE PLS I BEG), cowgirl position, pull out method, missionary position, creampie lol, ending is cute but also kinda up for interpretation? i guess <3

SUMMARY when your grandparents decided to retire and take a summer’s long vacation in celebration, they leave their house in your care. at least you don’t have to worry about feeding the farm animals. but you do have to worry about the tall, handsome cowboy who does.

MORE AND SHE’S DONE oh my god, this fic actually pulled so much out of me i think i was the one seeing stars by the end.. 😭 but i’m so proud of it and the goals i tried meeting while writing. first of all the length??? insane for me. i can hardly get myself to write anything longer thank 5k 😞 THATS ENOUGH ABOUT ME THO,,, this fic was heavily inspired by the django performance if u couldn’t tell by the banner 😝 and i’d first like to thank the academy aka @kimsohn for encouraging me to write this and fueling my delusions ilysm maya <3 i’d also like to give a huge thank u to @bro-atz TYSM FOR BETAING AND HELPING WITH SCENES BRO ur my life saver fr <3 PLS PLS PLS REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!!

Growing up, you weren’t the biggest fan of trips to your grandparents’ farm in the rural countryside.

You were born in a big city, full of all the glitz and glam. There were bright lights that lit the skyline at night, distracting from the stars that illuminated above. The wide open space was blocked by high towers and large skyscrapers. You were accustomed to the sound of bustling pedestrians and the obnoxious honking of cars in the streets. There was seldom an evening of complete silence.

Everything was so tightly packed together, within walking distance if you didn’t feel like hopping in a car for a fifteen minute drive. You appreciated the insanity of the train station in the mornings before school, the metro so busy with students and working class individuals. You came into contact with numerous strangers throughout your day to day life.

However, every summer until you were a senior in high school was a different story.

Your parents wanted to keep you humble, you supposed, shipping you off to your grandparents’ for three months. Living in the city kept people too sheltered, too primped and polished for the real world. They wanted you to have that exposure, to experience what it was like to live without the fanciness of urbanization. The nine months out of the year that you spent in the city stunted that exposure, though.

When you’d arrive at their farm, luggage stacked like you were taking a trip to London or Paris, you felt like a glorified version of Regina George. Maybe Blair Waldorf. Elle Woods? You weren’t even rich like that. Your parents were nice, middle class people. There was just something about cow manure and the fear of stepping on a freshly laid egg that made it difficult to adjust to the setting.

It was most likely your stubbornness throughout your childhood that held you back even as you got older and more educated. You thought after graduating high school, the three-months-long “retreat” would come to an end. You’d only need to visit when necessary, maybe a week max. And that was true to an extent. During your university years, you only visited the farm around once a year. You were too consumed with school to even go home sometimes.

And then your grandparents decided to retire.

Their farm had supplied the town over with produce and other home-grown items for as long as you could remember. But they were getting older and no one in the family was willing to inherit the farm or its responsibilities. In celebration of their retirement, they planned a grand vacation to visit multiple countries. Their itinerary spanned an entire summer, just like your trips to the farm when you were younger.

Because you were the only one familiar enough with the area, they enlisted you to housesit while they were gone. You tried to get out of it, but they didn’t trust anyone else as much as you, despite your convictions about country life. So you reluctantly agreed, packing up your things to prepare for another grueling summer at the farm one last time.

But there was a bit of a setback.

”What do you mean someone’s living in the farmhouse behind their house?” You shriek into the receiver, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear as you zip up your final bag. Your mom sighs on the other end.

”Your grandma just only now told me, apparently it slipped her mind,” you can hear the sympathy in her tone. “He’s this boy who grew up in the town and he’s gonna take over the farm for them on the condition that they still live on the property. She said he shouldn’t get in your way and he’s expecting your presence. You’ll only see him if you ever actually go out to the farm and when he brings groceries to the house.”

”Great. Another thing I didn’t sign up for.” You mutter, giving your bedroom a once over to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Is there anything else I should know before I get there, like a secret pet or maybe a family living in the attic?”

”Watch the attitude, Y/N,” she warns, and you shut up immediately. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. You’re a grown adult and you’d rather spend your summer going out with your friends, but you already told your grandparents you would do this for them. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You sigh, nodding even though she can’t see it. At least you didn’t have to worry about caring for their farm animals. It was time to think of this as a staycation rather than torture. Sure, your friends were going to be living it up in the Bahamas for a week and your boyfriend was going to be here while you were surrounded by nothing but flat landscape for acres.

Perhaps it was good for you that there would be someone else on the property. You might’ve started to feel scared being alone in the middle of nowhere for so long. Though, your boyfriend probably won’t be the biggest fan of you staying within the vicinity of another man for three months. You’d just deal with that later.

The drive to your grandparents’ farm is actually more peaceful than anything else. Driving for long periods of time wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but doing it by yourself with nothing but your music filling your ears was a sort of therapy. It allowed you to come to terms with your fate for the summer and what it could entail, even if it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Seeing the lush greenery for miles upon miles as you neared their home evoked a sense of tranquility within you. If you kept a positive outlook on your situation, you would make it through these next few months unscathed and your sanity still intact. Maybe you despised the wide open space for years when you were a kid, but now that you’re an adult, you think you could learn to appreciate it and its beauty.

As long as the guy living in the farmhouse didn’t bother you like your grandmother said, everything would be—

Oh.

You pull up in front of the house, already thrown for a loop by the tall, very handsome stranger walking his dog back from the mailbox. His dark hair obscured his eyes, a bandana tied around his neck to match with the one hanging off the Border Collie’s collar. The two turn around at the sound of your engine, stopping in their tracks once you’ve parked.

He brings a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes, watching cautiously as you park slowly. You don’t know why you’re so anxious, it’s not like you’ll be interacting with him much during your stay anyways. There’s something about his slender figure and the fact that he was so clearly dedicated to what he does upon first glance that it makes you feel shy. You suck in a sharp breath before deciding to exit your vehicle, wiping clammy palms on your denim shorts. You’re starting to regret not dressing a little cuter, a little more presentable.

His features soften upon recognizing you, the pretty granddaughter that your grandparents showed him prior to leaving for their trip. The hand sheltering his face falls to his side and he gives you a warm smile, somehow warmer and brighter than the sweltering summer sun. You’d always been told not to talk to strangers, to keep your distance for your own safety, but you can’t help mirroring his expression with a small wave.

“H-Hi,” your voice wobbles and you kind of want to die just a bit. “I’m Y/N. My grandparents mentioned you lived in the farmhouse out back, but didn’t give me a name or face to expect.”

He extends his arm out and you shake his hand, albeit slightly nervously. His eyes squint when he glances between you and his dog. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Yunho, and this is Yeoreum.”

The name is fitting for the red and white colored Border Collie, her tongue sticking out as she stares up at you with big eyes that almost resemble her owner’s. You bend down to pet her, patting the soft tufts of fur on her head and appreciating her licks of excitement. Yunho laughs, whistling to catch her attention.

“Yunho and Yeoreum,” you repeat, a tiny grin on your face. “Befitting. Does she come with the property?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s spoken for,” he teases, a pout on his features. “But she can visit whenever you’d like. Jokes aside, did you need any help moving stuff into the house?”

”That would be great, actually!” You scratch the back of your neck, lips pursing. Yunho waits for you to unlock the trunk of your car and places Yeoreum’s leash in your possession, making quick work transporting your bags inside. What was just supposed to be some light assistance, has evidently become him doing everything on his own while you stand and look pretty with his dog.

You didn’t bring too much with you since you didn’t have plans to leave while you were housesitting and your grandparents weren’t so old fashioned that they didn’t have a washing machine. Still, you felt useless allowing this stranger you’d just met to do all this manual labor on your behalf.

”Does he always do this?” You murmur to the Border Collie, falling to a seat on the lowest front porch step. She doesn’t give you a response (not that you expected her to), but pants happily in lieu of one, craning her head so you can scratch the spot behind her ear.

“You’re a guest, it’s just good hospitality for me to help.” Yunho says as he comes out of the house, stationing himself in front of you with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt loops.

“There’s a difference between helping and doing the work yourself. You’re just being modest,” you push yourself up to hand him Yeoreum’s leash. “But thank you anyway, that was really nice. I’m so tired from driving up here, so I think I would’ve collapsed doing all that back and forth.”

”You should go rest,” he glances at the house behind you. “There’s a whole three months of farm life ahead of you, so don’t wear your pretty little self out just yet.”

Yunho salutes to you and takes his leave, walking around your grandparents’ house toward what you assume is the farmhouse. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks feel hot, and you’re well aware that it’s not because of the summer heat. Your fingers clutch at the material of your t-shirt and you shake it to fan yourself.

It seemed like you were in for a bumpy ride these next few months. But like you reiterated prior to arriving, everything would be just fine so long as you and farm boy went your separate routes and lived your separate lives.

Yeah. Things would be alright. You hope.

It’s a week into your stay on your grandparents’ farm when you bump into Yunho again.

You’re toweling your neck after getting out of the shower, heading into the kitchen to make yourself another bowl of cereal for breakfast. So far the only downside has been your inability to cook a decent meal. Takeout or your boyfriend sleeping over were usually your saving grace, but without having either of those options, you’ve stuck to microwaveable things.

The sight of Yunho unloading groceries onto the counter has you squealing and nearly jumping out of your own skin. He flinches at your volume, knocking over the bag of rice resting against the vase in the center. Thankfully it was still sealed shut, if not there would’ve been a mess of rice grains all over the island counter. His clumsiness has you slapping a palm over your mouth to silence your giggles, not wanting to embarrass him.

”Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” You apologize sheepishly, folding your towel over your arm and placing it on a barstool nearby.

“N-No, you’re fine! I shouldn’t have just let myself in, it’s kinda just a habit. You deserve your privacy without having to worry about whether or not I’m gonna barge in unannounced.” He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just put these up for you and then I’ll be on my way.”

”Can I help?” You waddle over to him, fingers laced behind your back. “I’d feel bad watching you put my groceries away for me after going out and getting them.”

Yunho gestures for you to occupy the space beside him with a small smile that takes solace at the corner of his mouth. The two of you do everything in complete silence, still not entirely used to each other’s presence because of the lack of crossing paths. As you’re finishing up, you start grabbing the items you need for your cereal. He raises an eyebrow at you.

”You don’t want something a little more filling?” He suddenly questions, jutting his chin at your bowl.

”I would love that if I knew how to cook,” you laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? The granddaughter of two farmers can’t cook to save their life.”

Yunho shakes his head with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Well, I don’t have to feed the horses for another hour if you’d like for me to whip up something better than a bowl of cereal.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows furrow. Despite growing up with the mindset that you were above the farm life your grandparents tried to impose on you, you hated feeling like you were coming across as entitled. You didn’t want Yunho to think you were lazy or that you were too good. “You don’t have to do that. I can survive on instant ramen and cereal, I swear.”

”Y/N,” he says your name with a certain authority to it, and you’ve never loved the sound of your name coming out of someone else’s mouth so much before. “I want to. I’m not the world’s greatest chef or anything, but I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

”Okay, then,” you nod, taking a seat at the island. You watch in awe as he dances around the kitchen and prepares something for you. It’s weird, not in the sense that you feel awkward around this complete stranger, but because you feel the opposite. You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for a while. It’s almost like Yunho has been a casual part of your life for much longer than a week. He’s easy to get along with, easy to mold into what you’re used to.

And that’s weird because you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cooks dinner for you most nights, but somehow has never made you feel this taken care of. It throws you off. That should definitely not be the case. How is this man doing this in one week and your boyfriend couldn’t in two years?

The guilt settles in the pit of your stomach quickly. Sure, your boyfriend might’ve had a habit of forgetting important dates and didn’t give you half as much attention as he should’ve, but did that warrant the emotions brewing in your chest? Could that excuse this notion that maybe it was time to finally call it quits?

You zone out as Yunho finishes cooking your breakfast, too inside of your head to even fawn over the doting and slight coddling he was doing. Maybe you need to have a long conversation with Seojun about your relationship and where you want it to go. Perhaps it was a nice idea to invite him out to visit the farm, it could do you both some good.

“Ta-da!” Yunho holds out a plate to you, the sparkle in his eyes effectively pushing out any thoughts of your boyfriend and the shame that was picking at you. You can’t help but reciprocate his expression when you see how delicious the food looks.

He’d made you omurice, the ketchup on top in cute squiggly lines to form whiskers and a little dog face. You accept the plate gratifyingly, your fingers brushing as you do so. He smiles shyly, eyeing you carefully while you take the first bite. You don’t remember the last time you had a home cooked breakfast, accustomed to the occasional muffin at the coffee shop near your house.

”’Not the world’s greatest chef’ my ass,” you grumble, pouting at his humbleness and his inability to be bad at anything. “I might just ask you to have breakfast with me every morning if you can chef it up this well.”

That melodic laugh of his rings in your ears, his elbows resting on the island and his chin in his palms. “I’m sure Yeoreum would appreciate a companion who isn’t me.”

“How long have you had her?” You ask, shoveling more omurice into your mouth. If you weren’t so hungry and so appeased by how delicious it was, you’d feel bad for ruining his hard work. The ketchup no longer looked like a dog, but rather a splatter of red all over your plate.

“Almost four years now. I had her for a year before I met your grandparents. She adores them, so it’s no surprise that she likes you too.” He has this fond gaze in his eyes as he talks about his beloved Border Collie and it makes your heart ache.

The fact that he has such a good relationship with your grandparents seals the deal for you. Well, it would seal the deal if you were single. Yunho is like the ideal man that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He knows how to cook, knows how to clean. He’s adept around the house, skilled in yard work and other random jobs like fixing leaky pipes and installing new appliances. He’s gentle, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.

Your parents would never meet him, though. After the summer was over, you’d be back in Seoul and he would still be here, a distant memory. You forcibly laugh away the thought, excusing it as your response to his words and continuing the conversation about his dog.

Perhaps this stay would be harder to get through than you thought.

As the weeks pass you by, you find yourself becoming more and more infatuated with Jeong Yunho.

Cooking breakfast for you in the morning has become a regular thing. Monitoring him at the stove with sleepy eyes and a mug of fresh coffee in your hands has ingrained itself into your routine. Yeoreum called the spot beneath your stool her own now, laying there as her owner made your food. You think the transition from seeing him as just this comforting presence, this kind individual, to wanting something more was almost too smooth.

Especially right now as you sit on the back porch sipping on some lemonade, admiring the cowboy as he transfers bales of hay from the bed of his pickup truck to the pigpen and the cattle pen. He pauses in between trips, stripping off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He lifts the hem of the white tank top he’s wearing and uses it to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing the toned abdomen he had been hiding from you up until now.

You feel like you’re going insane, trying to pretend like you’re reading your book as you not so subtly gawk at his muscles straining with each bale he lifts. It’s crazy really, the effect he has on you doing his fucking job. You’ve made it a habit to sit out here and stare at him under the guise of various other things. Aside from being borderline obsessive, it’s horrible because you’re still very much in a relationship.

Most people would feel a hell of a lot worse than you do, like their entire world was crumbling between their fingertips just for finding someone else attractive. But for some reason, as time has continued to roll on, that guilt— that self-preservation— has faded. You’re dipping into another emotion that you’re too scared to explore.

Yunho takes a break from his labor to guzzle down a bottle of water, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Had you been paying attention to anything other than the view of the handsome man, you would’ve noticed the glass sliding out of your grasp, the condensation becoming far too dense to keep a solid grip on the cup. In the midst of drooling over him, your lemonade falls to the ground with a loud clanging noise.

Your reflexes are only swift enough to save your book, but the drink spills everywhere else and you wince at how embarrassing the situation is. You hurry inside to grab a towel before he can see the mortification enveloping your features. He seemed like the observant type, like one scan of your face could tell him everything he needs to know without a single word exchanged. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, blowing a raspberry while you attempt to regulate your blood pressure.

Through the window above the kitchen sink, you make out a confused Yunho, brows furrowed as he looks in the direction of the house. He worried over you entirely too much, particularly when you take into account the fact that all you did was think about him in manners not necessarily safe for work. Maybe you were just delirious. That was the only logical explanation for why you’re spiraling.

The high temperatures of the summer coupled with your surroundings are contributing to your change in behavior. Yes. That made sense. You weren’t crazy.

With a bit more reprieve, you’re able to grab a tea towel and head back outside to clean up your mess. (Not unaccompanied by a couple glances in Yunho’s direction, but that’s fine. Perfectly healthy even. It’s normal to check up on a friend. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, but who’s holding you accountable?)

“You know you’ve been making me breakfast every morning without asking for anything in return,” you speak up one morning, chin resting on the island. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Yunho purses his lips as he hands you your plate. “Nah, I like cooking for you.”

You try to ignore the way that has your heart fluttering in your chest, try to ignore the warmth blooming beneath your skin. Your eyes glance down at your food to avoid eye contact, bringing your chopsticks up to your lips. “Okay, well I wanna do something for you.”

Despite mumbling the words, he hears you anyway and smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his mug. He rolls up the sleeves of his denim button up, reaching down to scratch behind Yeoreum’s ear, the area that you’ve learned is her favorite. She pants joyfully, jumping on his leg excitedly. He looks between the two of you.

”Missy here needs a bath,” he says, cooing at her. “I was gonna give her one later, after I cleaned out the stables, but if you don’t mind doing it.”

”I’d do just about anything for that precious girl,” you nod enthusiastically. “Consider it done.”

This is how you end up out back, dog shampoo in one hand and the water hose in the other.

Yeoreum’s signature bandana and collar lay on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, the dog looking so different without her accessories as you prepare to bathe her. You wet her fur generously, squeezing enough shampoo into your palm to lather it on. Compared to your childhood pets, she’s pretty well behaved.

She’s probably one of the only dogs who’s ever actually enjoyed taking a bath, sitting still for you while you scrub and rinse and repeat. You take your time with cleaning her, wanting to make sure you do your best as a thank you for every plate Yunho has ever made you. Usually, this isn’t something you would jump at the opportunity to do. Somehow, being back at the farm this past month or so has done everything your parents tried to do when you were younger.

It could’ve had to do with the desensitization of being here every summer for so long that it just never stuck when you were grade school age. But now, fully grown and experiencing this all over again on your own, with new faces at your side, it’s like you’re being exposed to something different. You can see why your mom and dad didn’t want the city life to become a dependency.

You preferred the view of cabs and cafés over cows and chickens in the past, but now you found a sense of familiarity in them. You’d always want to go home as soon as you got here. Unlike other kids, you wanted your summer to be over as quickly as possible. You couldn’t imagine going home after this, though. This unveiled attachment to the farm you detested when you were younger could only be accredited to one person, and it was a little frightening.

He constantly brought out parts of you that you didn’t know existed. This enigma, the one that emphasized how big of a role he’s fulfilling in the short period of time you’ve been here, drills itself into your brain every day. You knew you had to acknowledge it sooner or later, but it was just less of a hassle to act like it wasn’t screaming at you. Your fear of change was a more pertinent issue to ignore, so you let it consume all else.

While getting lost in your thoughts, Yeoreum starts shaking and startles you, causing your hold on the hose to loosen, water spraying everywhere. The diversion has you losing your footing and slipping in the mud. You shriek, though it does nothing to block the stream that drenches you, your clothes getting wet. The universe decides it’s not on your side, because you happened to wear a white shirt. Why you chose to do that when you knew you were bathing a dog, you have no clue, but it was a little too late for regrets.

Yeoreum jumps out of the basin you had her in and runs to the farmhouse just as Yunho’s walking out, fresh from the shower. You forgot that he was cleaning the stables at the same time you were giving the Border Collie her bath, but now you’re starting to wish you waited until afterward just in case you needed the assistance. And well, you definitely needed the assistance.

Plucking the tail end of the mishap, Yunho’s initial reaction is to laugh at your misfortune, but the closer he gets to the scene, the laughter dies out in his throat. Your top is sheer enough that he can map out the outline of your black bra. It leaves very little to the imagination and he thinks he might fall to his knees right here.

Since your grandparents told him that you’d be house sitting while they were away and proudly showcased a photo of you, he’s been enthralled by you. You had the face of an angel, or maybe a really enticing demon, he hasn’t cogitated it much yet.

He swallows thickly, hoping to keep his composure as he makes his way to you. His hand is a little shaky when it reaches to take the hose from you, squeezing his eyes closed and switching off the water. He stays there for a few seconds to mentally prep himself for an up-close-and-personal look at you, even going as far as holding his breath.

“Uh— you— um— you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold,” Yunho keeps his eyes cast downward. He’s grateful that you don’t note how red the tips of his ears are, or how he thinks the sky is suddenly much more interesting than your face.

Your head cocks to the side in confusion. “What do you mean ‘before I catch a cold’? It’s, like, a million degrees out.”

“The temperature drops at night and the sun’s setting soon. I’ll handle it from here. Yeoreum ran off, so I gotta chase after her anyway and I don’t think you want her to soak you more than she already has.” He’s insistent on shooing you away and getting you inside of the house. You huff.

”Okay… If you say so…”

Reluctantly, you spin around and traverse back. The draft of the air conditioning has you shivering, rubbing up and down your arms as you enter the bathroom to inspect the damage. Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when you finally see yourself. No wonder Yunho was so adamant on staving you off like you were the plague.

In your defense, you didn’t think the hose won the battle by that much. You assumed you’d just gotten everything above your shoulders wet, but no. You were practically doused head to toe. And the clear display of your brassiere under your clothes was the last thing on your mind.

He was stronger than you. Actually, he was a more respectful person than you. You would’ve gawked at him shamelessly if the roles were reversed. But at least you’re self aware! Right? The first step in recognizing that you have a problem, is admitting that you have a problem. That’s what you think they say in those addiction commercials, but you could be wrong.

Wow. Now you were comparing him to drugs. Though, you suppose there isn’t that huge of a difference. Both had equal success rates in terms of getting people high and then making it hard to wane off their effects.

You really had to quit it with the metaphor usage.

It’s around midnight that night when the lightbulb in the bathroom goes out, halting you from finishing your bedtime routine.

You’re exhausted to say the least, face damp from washing it and one of those fuzzy hairbands with the animal ears perched on your head. You were ready to crash out, but there were still a couple things you needed to do before that. It was proving to be a little difficult in the pitch black bathroom. The window above the shower was too narrow to provide any sufficient moonlight.

With a low grumble, you shuffle into your slippers and make the short trek from your grandparents’ house to Yunho in the farmhouse. You hug yourself when a strong breeze blows past, your flimsy t-shirt and sleep shorts doing hardly anything to block the cool summer night’s air.

A piece of you feels a little bad for bothering him so late, but you have no idea how to change a lightbulb. You don’t even know where the lightbulbs are. Besides, you think you’d electrocute yourself if you made an attempt to do it on your own.

You huff out a sigh and bring your knuckles up to knock at his door, waiting patiently for a response. He’s not asleep, you know this because he’s mentioned that his internal clock doesn’t turn off until two in the morning. Circadian rhythms were an odd concept, so to each their own.

“Yunho! It’s Y/N! Open up!”

When a few minutes have passed, you try the knob. Maybe it was a bit… too presumptuous of you to enter his home without explicit permission. Yes, you’d known each other for the better part of a month and a half, and yes, you’d gotten very close in that timeframe, but did that constitute your actions?

Whether or not the answer to that question was a yes or a no, you really wish you would’ve just waited outside. As you venture further in search of the cowboy, you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have.

Standing in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom, the door ajar at least an inch, you catch a glimpse of him on his bed. That white tank top you’re so used to seeing him in is between his teeth, eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure as he fists his cock with a purpose. His nostrils are flared and whiny moans escape from behind the fabric.

His head falls back every now and then, eyes fluttering shut when he runs his thumb over the slit. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice you, too entranced with chasing his high. Your lips part as you watch him fuck up into his hand, his shirt slipping from his mouth when he groans out a curse.

Just as quickly as you become distracted by the sight of Yunho jerking off, you become aware of what you’re doing. You flee the scene before you get yourself caught, exiting the farmhouse as quietly as you can. The lightbulb can wait until morning, it wasn’t that important, honestly. You’re in a daze the entire walk back to your grandparents house, goosebumps littering your arms and the image of him in such an obscene state burned into your brain.

You fall backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in hopes of willing away the path your mind is beginning to wander towards. All you can think about is the sight of him so desperate for release, large hand wrapped around his dick, abdomen contracting with need. You know you weren’t supposed to see, weren’t supposed to bear witness to something so personal.

It’s difficult to push out the nasty, inappropriate thoughts clouding your head. His expressions contorted into absolute bliss. His slender fingers could probably do so much more than your own, could probably reach places you’d never even dreamed of. And fuck, his dick, prettier and bigger than any other you’ve ever seen.

Your chest blushes with heat, an embarrassment washing over you when you realize you’re turned on. You should feel terrible for intruding on Yunho’s privacy like that, especially without him knowing, but all you can do is want him more than you already do. That craving for something deeper, carnal, fans the flame engulfing you, dragging you further into the sick and twisted hell you’ve created for yourself.

Yunho has been nothing but welcoming, kind and gentle with you, someone he didn’t even know the name of until last month. Someone who’s done everything in their power to repress this lifestyle for so long. And for some reason, it just comes so easily with him. You don’t feel forced to enjoy living on the farm. He makes you laugh and puts a smile on your face effortlessly. He has you wondering if life can actually be this simple.

But when all is said and done, there will be somebody else waiting for you back home. Somebody who doesn’t know how to whip up omurice with freshly laid eggs. Somebody who isn’t even a dog person, who thinks pets are nuisances. Somebody who doesn’t live in the farmhouse behind your grandparents’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

If you touch yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought of the man who has eyes that resemble the night sky, well that’s between you and whatever higher being exists out there.

You sit across from Yunho with bated breath, afraid that if you opened your mouth he would know your dirty secret. You avoid his eyes for the same reason, like one good look at you would reveal what you were trying to hide.

Yunho himself was doing his best to pretend like he hadn’t masturbated to the thought of you last night. He liked to think he was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were in a relationship, he’s heard you on the phone before. He stays silent as he fries rice in a pan and has some bread in the toaster. The only sounds in the kitchen are sizzling and the pants coming from Yeoreum under your stool.

In the time that you’ve been here, never once has it been awkward between you like this. The conversation usually doesn’t stop flowing, rolling on and on and filtering into things that don’t pertain to the original subject. He rarely has his back to you for too long, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a grin every here and now.

Both of you go to speak at the same time as a means of salvaging the morning from eternal strain. You stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Truly, you were two birds of a feather, or however that saying goes.

”Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being so quiet today,” Yunho says, though he knows it’s a lie. “I guess I had a long night.”

”Oh, that reminds me,” his mention of the previous night has you recalling the reason you went out to the farmhouse in the first place. “The light in my bathroom went out, do you think you can fix it for me?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he begins preparing your plate. “Actually, I have this joke about lightbulbs. You wanna hear it?”

Your lips curl into a smile, already attempting to hold back your laughter. With a raised eyebrow, you respond, “What is it?”

”What did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” He asks nonchalantly, taking a bite from his own piece of toast. You’re failing miserably at acting like you don’t think the joke is funny, although he hasn’t even told you the punchline yet.

”I dunno, Yunho, what did the lightbulb say to the light switch?”

“‘You turn me on.’”

There’s a pregnant pause as the joke resonates and you can’t stop yourself from cackling at how stupid it is. He joins in, but mostly because your laughter is contagious. His chest swells with pride at his successful landing, feeling like he’s on top of the world just for bringing a smile to your face. God, he was down tremendously bad.

Your spoon clatters onto the counter as you lean over, a hand clapped over your mouth as your boisterous laughing simmers into a giggle. Yunho leans into you slightly, matching your energy as he munches on his toast. This is what has you conflicted, so at war with yourself. The proximity should have you pulling away, but something about him always reels you in, despite the consequences that await.

And unfortunately, those consequences come to a head today.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N?”

You and Yunho jump back, whipping towards the source of the voice. Seojun stands there, his bags at his feet and his face crestfallen, disbelief written all over it. He shakes his head and turns to leave, you stumbling off of the barstool to follow behind him. The guilt you’ve only ever felt momentarily settles deep in your chest and deep in your stomach, though you technically haven’t done anything wrong.

Your abruptness startles Yeoreum and she’s up in a heartbeat, tailing behind you curiously. Yunho has to rush to stop her, but a part of himself wants to do the same. No matter how much he likes you, he’s never wanted to be the cause of your relationship falling apart. He wanted you organically, not like this.

”Seojun! Wait!” You call after him, holding up a hand to block out the harsh sunlight, tripping over your slippers. He scoffs.

“What am I waiting for? You to spew some bullshit about how nothing’s going on between the two of you? I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N. I’m not blind.” He pops open his trunk and throws his bags in haphazardly.

”You’re being unreasonable,” you exclaim, rounding the car so you’re directly in front of him. “There is nothing going on. We’ve just gotten to know each other since we live in the same vicinity. Did you want me to stay here for three months and hole myself away with no other human contact?”

“He was just supposed to be the guy who lived in the farmhouse. He wasn’t supposed to bother you. That’s what you told me, remember?” Seojun is losing his patience, something that has always been the root of the problem when you’ve gotten into past arguments. “How do you expect me to react when I come to surprise you and see you being so close to another man?”

“I was laughing at a joke he told me. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is and blowing everything completely out of proportion. I’m sorry that it never came up that we became friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never once cheated on you in the three years we’ve been together and for you to accuse me of that is so fucking low of you.” You’re not going to cry, not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s won. He thrives off of seeing your vulnerability and you won’t let him have it.

“I saw the way he was looking at you,” he seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I know that look because that’s how I used to look at you.”

A laugh devoid of any humor leaves you and he blinks. “That’s how you ‘used to’ look at me? When did you stop? And why am I just finding this out?”

”That’s not— that isn’t what I meant, Y/N—“

”No, Seojun. You did,” you glance away from him, nipping at the inside of your cheek. “We’re grasping for straws. We aren’t going anywhere anymore and we haven’t for a while now. That’s why we're standing here arguing over this. I just want to know why you didn’t just tell me.”

”I’m too complacent,” he sighs, breathing through his nose. “I was too comfortable with you and I didn’t know how to let you go or walk away. But you’re right, there isn’t anything for us to save, and it seems like we’re both ready to move on.”

“What does that mean?”

“I saw how you were looking at him, too. You might not have acted on it, but you have feelings for him. I’m not gonna stay and hold you back.” Seojun unlocks his car, opening the door. “And for what it’s worth, you won’t be wasting your time.”

You don’t respond, instead humming and letting him drive off. Once his car is far enough out of your view, you go back into the house. There’s an indescribable emotion that hostages you, binding your wrists and tying you down metaphorically. You can’t seem to shake it.

Yunho is still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Yeoreum to keep her calm. He gazes up at you expectantly and you feel the tears you were suppressing from Seojun bubbling up. If you weren’t going to cry in front of your (now ex) boyfriend, you definitely weren’t going to cry in front of him.

With a trembling exhale, you force yourself to say, “I need to be alone.”

He understands empathetically, clipping on Yeoreum’s leash and leaving the house in the same breath. That in itself has you crying like a baby the moment you’re all by yourself. You hold your face in your hands, body shuddering with each sob you release.

I saw the way he was looking at you.

I saw how you were looking at him, too.

You had a lot to think about, and everything always seemed to circle back to Jeong Yunho.

A couple days escape you before you register you haven’t seen much of Yunho. After your breakup with Seojun, you really did need a bit of room to process it all, but you hadn’t realized just how much you depended on the cowboy’s presence until you were missing it.

You hadn’t meant to push him away, if that’s how he saw it. A night of bawling your eyes out with a pint of ice cream and The Vow was enough to cure you. However, it appears that he thought you needed more, going as far as putting a pin in your daily breakfast ritual. You aren’t sure how to extend an olive branch when you weren’t even trying to cause a rift between you in the first place.

Being with someone for three years may not seem like a lot, but that fraction of your life is stuck with you, like a thumbtack that refuses to come out of the wall. You’d had boyfriends before Seojun, but they weren’t nearly as serious. There weren't formal introductions between parents, no late night conversations that bleed into early mornings, no sleepovers and quick kisses before work.

Of course, after a certain point, those had just become habitual. You weren’t doing them because they evoked a sense of love or care anymore, but rather because you were familiar with them. It was safer to continue the pattern of waking up and falling asleep to Seojun on the other side of the bed, the intrusion of sunlight and the cacophony of traffic outside your window, even if you didn’t really want to.

And then you came here.

Somehow, returning to your grandparents’ farm was exactly what you needed to break through that cycle. As much as you would love to attest it to your location and discovering the appreciation your family wanted you to feel for it, you know the real reason. It’s all thanks to a certain cowboy.

Yunho’s feelings for you run far deeper than he could’ve imagined. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened with you and Seojun, but he thinks putting distance between you is better in the long run anyway. On the off chance you’re still together, he wants to preserve his heart. He’s handed it to someone else too easily in the past and he doesn’t want to make that mistake with you if you don’t feel the same.

But even on the off chance that you’ve broken up, he still wants to stop himself from falling further and harder than he already has. Without ill will, he doubts that you would give up the life you have in the city for this, for him. He’ll be perpetually chained to being a faint imprint on your memory of the summer. You’ll think back to the months you spent here and he’ll have played only a minor role.

It was wishful thinking, too hopeful of him to presume this would lead to a happy ending. You were from different worlds, led different lives. It was time for him to be realistic. And that meant implementing the space that was supposed to exist between you from the get go.

Though, you make it difficult when he bumps into you on the way back from the mailbox. Déjà vu, anyone?

Yeoreum is excited to see you, jumping onto her haunches to lick your face when you kneel to her level. You giggle, squeezing one eye shut as you balance yourself and hold her still so her weight doesn’t clamber you both onto the ground. Your fingers pet to top of her head softly as you coo, “Who’s a good girl?”

Yunho physically winces when his chest tightens at the sight of his two favorite girls. The word ‘distance’ bounces around his head like a pinball, reminding him what he’s supposed to be doing. He just can’t bring himself to walk away. Especially when you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“Hey…” You start, steeling your tone to ensure it’s even. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you or something. I needed some time to myself to figure things out. It wasn’t my intention to shut you out and put you on the back burner.”

”No, it’s okay. I had to figure stuff out on my own, too,” he uses his bandana to dab at the sweat perspiring on his forehead. “Did you sort through whatever you needed to?”

“I did,” you nod, standing upright. “Seojun and I broke up, so I had to sit with my feelings for a bit. We’ve been together for so long, I think I needed to remember what it was like to be without him, and then I realized that’s basically what I’ve been doing since I came here.”

”Oh.” Yunho’s lips form an ‘O’ shape, hands dragging down the sides of his pants. “I’m sorry— um— about your breakup.”

”Don’t be,” you smile, dismissing his sympathy. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We weren’t really in the relationship wholeheartedly anymore. There wasn’t a point in stringing it along, you know? But that’s enough about me, did you figure your own things out?”

”I thought I did,” he says, which is true considering he’d been mulling over what to do with his emotions subsequent to your argument with your ex. “And then I kinda steered off course. It’s alright, though, I think I like the new conclusion I’ve come to a lot better.”

You might be on the same page now, but there was an entire discussion that had to happen to solidify that. Following a very emotionally charged past couple days, you could do without that today. You’re both just glad that the air is cleared and you can resume building the bond that began forming the moment you stepped foot onto the farm, no restrictions whatsoever.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?”

You glance up from your book, this time genuinely reading it as Yunho fed the chickens and cleaned up their coop. He towers over you while he asks the question, his shadow thwarting off any direct sunlight. Your nose scrunches.

“When I was in, like, middle school? It’s been a minute,” you answer, making sure to bookmark the page you stopped at. “Why?

”Would you let me teach you how to do it again?” He nips at his lower lip, like he’s nervous you’ll say no. The truth of the matter is you’d say yes even if he asked you to commit arson, which is kind of a problem.

“That sounds fun,” you shrug. “What time should I be ready?”

”Uh, now?”

Okay, so sitting on a horse did not seem this scary when you were twelve.

It probably had to do with you being fearless and whatnot, but also because you did whatever your grandparents asked just to appease them. The faster you got off the damn horse, the faster you could go back inside and situate yourself in front of the TV. They thought they were making progress with you, but really you were outsmarting the outsmarters.

Sweat glazes on the underside of your hands, disrupting the security of your grasp on the reins. Yunho thought it would be wiser if he stayed on foot, guiding you and the horse around the perimeter of the pen. You hoped you didn’t look as afraid as you were, but you’re certain the slight quiver of your bottom lip gives it away.

“You’re doing fine, Y/N,” he reassures, maintaining a comforting amount of eye contact with you.

”Am I? Or does it just seem that way because you’re pulling the horse?” You quip, gripping the reins tighter when it steps over a rock and you sway a little. Your tone is laced with sarcasm, something Yunho hasn’t heard much of from you since you’ve met, but he thinks it’s cute that you resort to violence when you’re scared.

You notice the quirk of his mouth and how he’s trying not to laugh at your terror. It pisses you off solely because his humor isn’t unwarranted. You are being a bit over dramatic. He unties his bandana from around his neck and tosses it to you. “So you don’t callus your hands.”

He’s too thoughtful, too considerate for his own good, but that’s what roped you in. Even when you met for the first time, he had you figured out. The longer you stare at him, the more you realize just how perfect he is. If you were still in school and you were tasked with writing an essay about the summer you spent here, you’re sure the words would flow onto the pages flawlessly, without skipping a beat. Your prose would be so beautifully written, that even the most notable authors would be envious of your experience.

The only downside of this was the fact that time was beginning to seep through your fingers. There was mutuality in your feelings for each other, that was almost unequivocal. You were both just hesitant in taking that first leap. The uncertainty lied with that goodbye at the end of August, the one that’ll hurt a lot more than it was supposed to. But you know that postponing your unceremonious declaration of feelings would just do more harm than anything else.

One consistency you’ve singled out since coming back to the farm is this common theme of divine intervention, or fate, whatever you want to call it. Right when you’re on the brink of an epiphany, you’re always forcefully shoved into it, like a freight train crashing into its platform traveling at full speed. This moment is no different.

Yeoreum barking at a squirrel on the other side of the pen scares the horse who’s back you were currently on. It bucks up and you release the reins in alarm. You fall quickly, but Yunho’s quicker, catching you in his arms like it’s been a childhood dream of his to be a superhero. He searches your face for any indication that you might be hurt, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The eyes you’ve grown to adore examine your own with so much care that you find yourself melting in his hold. Your face instinctively leans into his palm, fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt like he may drop you.

It’s nearly second-nature to minimize the gap between you.

You never understood what novelists meant when they described kissing scenes. And you think that’s because you’d never truly had a kiss like this before. It was as if they were all talking about this second, this blip in time. The sparks that shoot from where your lips meet to the tips of your fingers, the thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the sensation of never wanting to escape, never wanting to stop.

Yunho’s hand snakes behind your head, tangling in your hair to deepen the connection. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Everything that had been stacking on top of each other was leading to this, the collision that rivaled the Big Bang. You whine into his lips, an invitation but also an inquiry.

He parts from you just so he can catch his breath, his forehead resting on yours. “Can I take you inside?”

You nod fervently. “Yes. Please.”

He wastes no time hauling you to the farmhouse. His grip on your wrist is gentle as he pulls you into his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trapping you between his legs. Your restraint wears thin, nimble fingers fumbling with the rest of the buttons on his denim shirt. You push it off of his shoulders, a bit shell shocked when you discover that he’s wearing a regular t-shirt as opposed to his usual tank top.

“You would pull something like this today of all days,” you laugh breathily, untucking the shirt from his pants. He reciprocates the sentiment, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck while you undress him.

“Is it evil of me to say I was sorta hoping this would happen?” He speaks into your exposed collarbone, nipping, sucking, biting the skin. Your appreciative sigh goads him, his tongue gliding across the abused surface as a form of relief.

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head, fast to yank off his shirt and run your nails down his abdomen. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

“Yeah?” Yunho flips the two of you easily so you’re the one on the bed now. He pushes up the hem of your shirt, pecking your stomach to your clavicle as he shows more and more of your skin until the fabric is removed from your body. “Can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

You involuntarily moan, completely untouched and because of his words alone. Every part of you feels like it’s lit ablaze, burning with want and need and everything in between. This ran further than just what-ifs and late night fantasies. Your relationship with Yunho tiptoed on the edge of something you’ve never known before, and that makes this so much more special.

He glances up at you when his fingers reach for the button of your shorts, a silent ask for permission. You give him the green light and hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with your breathing trapped in your throat as he rids of your panties along with them. His hands push your knees to your chest, kissing your inner thighs and right around the place you need him most, but never there.

“Yunho…” You warn, but it comes across as a broken whimper rather than an establishment of authority. He laughs and then his lips are pressing to your clit, a sweet kiss that has all rationality taking a vacation from your brain. Your head tips back and you fist at the sheets.

He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it around the sensitive bundle of nerves each time it makes its return. It’s almost criminal how good it feels to have his mouth on your cunt, eyes already heavy lidded with pleasure. He sucks on your clit at the same time he decides to insert a finger into your entrance, curling it experimentally just because he can. Like you predicted, it reaches that spongy spot at the crook of your pussy, brushing it once he’s sure he’s found it.

While you walked in on him fucking his fist, the only thing on his mind was you. He was so absorbed in the mental image of what you would look like beneath him, wiggling, writhing, squirming with indulgence. His social awareness was at a zero. This replayed over and over until he came, his thoughts so vivid he could’ve swore it was real.

But this, the actual thing, was so much better; his forearm pinning your hips down, his middle finger curling and uncurling inside of you, his mouth working overtime to inch you towards the edge of that steep cliff. He moans when your eyebrows practically coalesce, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You look so gorgeous like this, so disoriented all because of the bliss he was providing. The vibrations of the sound have you arching your back, uncontrollable whines running from your mouth.

“Feel good?” Yunho asks, disconnecting his mouth and replacing it with his other hand, ring and middle digits swiping across your clit with practiced pressure.

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, eyes on the brink of rolling to the back of your head. “Feels so good, Yun… Just like that, ‘m almost there.”

That’s all he needs to hear, switching his hand and mouth once again, focusing on alternating harsh and gentle sucks of your clit, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your hole. The doubled change in stimulation knocks the wind out of you, the precipice of your orgasm so close you can taste it. You’d never been brought to the summit this early in the past, and you think Yunho deserves some sort of reward for being the first to do so.

You’d worry about that later though, because you’re blindsided by it before you can even conjure your next thought. You cum with a cry, tears springing to your eyes from the immense amount of ecstasy coursing through your veins, swimming in your bloodstream. Yunho coos at you, not stopping until you’ve relaxed in his hold. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”

The praise makes your head feel airy, like empty space unoccupied by anything. If you paid attention in chemistry, then you’d know that’s highly impossible, but you didn’t. The only chemistry you even remotely care about is the one between you and Yunho, the tension that has piled higher and higher for days on end until its crescendo now.

You sit up to kiss him roughly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. He smiles into it, a hand raising to caress the underside of your jaw. He climbs onto the bed, scooting you up so you’re positioned by the pillows. It doesn’t take much effort for your bodies to swap, his back to the headboard. You clumsily seat yourself on his lap, a knee on either side of him and sighing wistfully when his mouth trails down your throat and sternum, slender fingers sneaking behind you to unclasp your bra.

He aids you in removing his pants, still simultaneously prioritizing kisses all over your bare chest. When you’re both fully naked, you take your time admiring his cock. It’s just as pretty as you remember, long and thick. Your hand wraps around it gingerly, stroking the length as you lean down to kiss him again. You don’t think you could ever get enough of his lips on your own.

“I’m not exactly getting any action over here, so I don’t have any condoms,” he says into your kiss, voice no louder than a whisper.

“That’s okay,” you run your fingers through his hair. “Wanna feel you anyways, all of you.”

”Fuck, Y/N, you can kill a man with those words.” He groans, nails digging into your hips. You giggle, but it’s interrupted by him sitting you fully, his dick slipping through your lower lips. A whine brushes his ear when the tip catches your clit, repeating the movement until you can’t stay still.

The closest you’ll ever get to Heaven on earth is Yunho’s cock pushing inside of you, filling you up so deliciously you think you could die like this. Your jaw slackens, hands coming up to support yourself on his shoulders. Even if this is a one time thing, something that never happens again during your stay at the farm, he wants you to remember this when you go back home. He wants you to recall this sliver in your timeline and never forget it, wants his name engraved in your memory like a branding iron.

Once he feels you’ve adjusted to him well enough, he pulls you off of him almost entirely, just to ram back in without mercy. He punches a voluminous moan from you, eyes watching where he disappears in you and reemerges. You’re tighter and so much warmer than he dreamed you’d be, but it’s perfect. You suck him in like a vacuum, as if his cock was made to be inside of you, as if you didn’t want him to part from you.

“You’re s-so deep, Yun,” you mewl, pulling him in for another headache-inducing kiss. “Don’t wanna stop.”

He exhales through his nostrils, mumbling out a curse when your walls squeeze around him. He wanted to last a while for you, wanted to hold out and prolong this moment until you were both on the crest of passing out. But you feel like a glove, your silk-adjacent cunt begging for more and more.

“Think I might cum soon, princess,” he groans, tossing his head back and just about losing every ounce of his sanity when your lips start marking the column of his throat.

His big hands move under your thighs, holding you in place so he can fuck up into you. The pace at which his cock drills in and out of your pussy has you seeing stars, eyes snapping shut and nothing but colorful spots decorating your vision. You were already abhorrently sensitive following your first orgasm, so it didn’t really take much to introduce the second.

Your hips stutter and it washes over you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering and collapsing into his top half. He pulls out of you quickly, mouth stationed by your ear as he jerks himself off until he’s painting your backside. He moans, a lot like the sounds he was making the other night, and you feel the need to just kiss him again.

Your lips lock sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous actions. Yunho curves a hand on your cheek, seperating from you the smallest distance so he can admire you. The smile that etches onto his expression makes you dizzier than anything else. However, the cutesiness can only span so long before the setting gives way.

Yunho’s hand snakes in between you, his forefinger sliding up and down your slit teasingly. Your breath comes out shaky, your face finding purchase in the crook of his neck. He replaces the digit with his middle finger, parting your pussy lips in search of your clit. It doesn’t take him very long to find it, rubbing tight circles into the engorged skin. You moan into his shoulder, resting your forehead on it to see the way he works your cunt.

“You’re so wet, baby. Have I not fucked you enough?” He whispers into your ear huskily. Yunho talking dirty to you is something you didn’t know you needed in your life. His finger slips downward, thrusting up into your hole with ease. He keeps massaging your clit with his palm, the stimulation making your head woozy.

“Mmmph— Yun, god. Feels too good.” You whine, gyrating your hips on his hand.

“Is that right, babe?” He encourages, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of their thrusts, almost like you hadn’t been in this position already. “I can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy around my cock again. Gonna fuck you harder than the last.”

Your whimpers raise in volume, focusing on the way he curls his digits in you, applying pressure with the heel of his palm to the circles he’s rubbing into your clit. You can sense your third orgasm approaching, warmth flooding your cheeks at how embarrassingly fast he worked you back up. Your walls clench around his fingers, alerting him of how close you are. He pauses, worming his body down so his face is eye level with your cunt again.

Yunho does the whole teasing thing a second time, kissing and suckling the hot skin of your belly, knowingly denying you of your release. You grab a handful of his hair, tugging at the ends to spur him on. He groans, giving into you and licking a straight line up your slit. He inserts both fingers again, this time using his tongue to manipulate your swollen clit.

The heat of Yunho’s mouth makes your insides ache, the necessity to cum intensifying. You keen loudly, desperately, needily, the sight of the brunette between your legs so incredibly arousing. He sucks on your throbbing clit, his long fingers as deep as they can go, and you crumble.

“Oh my god— oh my god— I’m cumming! I’m—” You cut yourself off, convulsing under him. He laps up as much of your juices as he can, coating his chin with your release. You moan as you pull him towards you to unify your lips, a mixture of your saliva and cum connect your mouths in strings. At this point, the sex is messier than anything you could’ve plucked from your wildest dreams.

One hand trails down your body, using your nimble fingers to play with your sensitive clit when he starts fisting his cock in preparation to enter your pussy again. You use your free hand to scratch at his contracting abs. He hisses, propping himself up with one arm next to your head and his eyes trained on the way you finger yourself at the same time. You can feel his breath on your cheeks and being in this proximity to him fuels your yearning.

“Please, Yun… Need you back inside of me,” you whimper. Rubbing your clit with your own fingers isn’t satisfying enough, not with him here in front of you, not when you know how good he can make you feel.

“Fuck, baby, when you beg like that I don’t know if I can hold back.” He chuckles lowly. It rumbles from his chest, shooting to your core.

“So don’t,” you rouse. “This is more than just a one time thing for me, Yunho.”

His eyes widen just a bit, your confession catching him off guard. That’s all he needs to line himself up with your hole, hooking his forearm under your knee as he slides in, stretching your cunt so perfectly with his perfect cock. “Shit— you’re so tight, princess… It’s almost like I didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.” He moans and spreads your legs wider. He bottoms out with a grunt, throwing his head back from the feeling of your velvety walls. A near deafening cry is ripped from your vocal cords. He nips at your neck, starting to piston his hips.

His thrusts don’t slow but become calculated, speeding up and diving deep simultaneously. It only took a short amount of time to figure out what you liked and he used it to his advantage. Yunho hikes your knee to your chest, groping your tits with his free hand. He twists and tugs at your nipples just hard enough that it contributes to your pleasure rather than hurts you.

It’s as if he doesn’t feel buried inside of you sufficiently, because he decreases his pace to press and fold your other leg up, his hips ramming into your ass with each thrust now. The tip of his cock kisses at what feels like your cervix. That familiar coil begins to fasten again, keening with every drive into your cunt. The squelching noises would’ve made you cower in shame with anyone else, but with Yunho it turns you on further.

You moan, and he flattens his hand on the lower part of your stomach. Yunho groans, biting the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers find your clit again, circling insatiably to get yourself off.

“You gonna cum for me again?” He rasps, his hold on your legs almost painful. The backs of your thighs burn, but you endure it for the sake of the moment. You reach up and behind yourself, grabbing at the headboard in an attempt to match his force.

“Oh my god, yes— yes yes yes yes,” you babble, the syllables blurring together like your mind. “Gonna cum so hard for you, Yunho. Keep going, please.”

His lips attach to yours, tongues tangling sloppily. The position you’re in is on the opposite end of the spectrum from how you were expecting this summer reunion to go. Had you not been made aware of Yunho living here at the last minute, you probably would’ve backed out of your commitment to staying. Deep down you’re a little too thankful that your grandmother mentioned him when it was too late to reconsider.

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Yunho whispers into your mouth.

You let go of the headboard, cupping his jaw and kissing him lovingly. “Me too.”

Your fingers speed up and so do his thrusts, perfectly timed with each other to shove you both towards your highs. You’re on the cusp of falling apart, arching into him to close the gap between your bodies.

“Wanna cum inside you. Can I?” Yunho grunts.

“Yes yes, please. Fill me up, Yun, want all of you.”

He continues to abuse your cunt, pounding into you like his life depended on it. You sob, clamping your walls around him. He freezes, suddenly spilling into you. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock.” The warmth of his release and his words coax your orgasm, the fluttering of your cunt milking every single drop from him that it can. Even with his dick plugging you up, you can feel it dripping out of you and onto the sheets below.

He rocks into you languidly until you’ve calmed down enough for him to pull out. His forehead is flush on your chest, rising and falling with it, both of you so spent from the intense physical activity you engaged in. You stare up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, carding your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“You meant what you said right? About this not being a one time thing.” Yunho says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of permeating the atmosphere you created.

“I don’t think I can go home at the end of the summer and forget the way I feel for you, Yunho.” You admit out loud. There had been a constant struggle in your head over whether or not to follow your heart, but as he looks at you with those sparkly eyes of his, you know your answer. And you feel a little stupid for ever considering the counter.

“And what exactly are those feelings?” He pushes, folding his hands on your sternum and laying his cheek on top. You giggle, brushing his hair out of his view. As tempting as it was to divulge your theatrical journey in assessing your emotions, you’re too exhausted to stay awake. It would have to wait for another day.

“You have the rest of the summer to find out, cowboy.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez jeong yunho #ateez yunho #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunhoszn

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fernshawart · 1 year

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I've seen a post going around saying that if we eat the rich we shouldn't touch Pearl. And it got me curious on what is it that makes her an exception ? Pearl is not just rich. She's CRAZY rich. We saw it in her interview, her mansion is immense and she keeps mentioning how much money she has randomly. But I think there's several reason why we don't see Pearl as bad for her money.

One, Pearl is a good person. Genuinely. Pearl is known to be generous, to care a lot about others and to be willing to spend money to help everyone. We see it when she's helping Eight in the metro, not hesitating a single second to help her out with money (btw, she didn't ask for her to give it back. Cuttlefish did). We also see it with Marina, who visibly lives with her (see the pic down) and who she probably took care of when she was homeless.

Two, Pearl's personality isn't just money. We don't love Pearl because she's crazy rich. We love her because she's unhinged, because she's sweet and caring, because she's funny ... She's not Scrooge McDuck. Money has an important part in her life but it's not her main personality trait.

Three, Pearl is close the punk scene, and it seems that she grew up in this environment as a young adult. Punks are inherently linked to concepts like anticapitalism, anarchy (hence why she was team chaos), freedom of the individual and anticonformism. There is no way she grew up in this scene without learning about these concepts and at least adhering to them in some way. The reason why she got into punk was most likely to express herself, meaning she probably had some retrospective beforehand.

Four, Pearl is humble. And what I mean by that isn't that Pearl doesn't talk about her money. She does, obviously. But rather that Pearl's wealth doesn't seem to make her feel superior in any way to others. She will talk to you like any other person no matter your status. It was obvious with how she treated Marina when they first met. It's also seen with the fact that she's friend's with the agents, even calling Eight a really good friend of hers. But it's still present to this day with Damp Socks.

Damp Socks could've been formed in many different ways. But Pearl actually found everyone on social medias. These people were just random dudes she found cool and that she got into a big adventure.

And finally, Pearl works hard. She was born into wealth, but nowadays, the reason why she has money is because her band is successful. Pearl has always shown a desire to improve herself, to change and try new things, to work into building up a future for herself and Marina. That's one of the reasons why she wanted chaos. She refuses to get stuck in a box that would keep bringing her wealth and fame but that would ultimately make her feel like she doesn't improve anymore. Damp Socks is a manifestation of Pearl's wish to grow up. And to me, this proves that Pearl wants to change for the better.

... Also she screamed so loud at a terrorist that he blew up. I guess that helps.

#character analysis #splatoon 3 #Splatoon 2 #splatoon #pearl houzuki #pearl #hime

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eregyrn-falls-art · 23 hours

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Jumping in with the view of the aurora borealis last night, Friday May 10, 2024, from Halibut State Park on Cape Ann, MA. It's often listed as the darkest skies you can find near to the Boston metro area, and we knew that you can get a good view to the north and northwest out over the ocean to the horizon. (Darker skies would involve a longer drive to the west, or to the north.).

We thought we'd better head there because we expected to see only a hint of the aurora on the horizon, and this was our best chance to see unimpeded all the way to the horizon, helped by the darkness of the ocean.

WELP. We needn't have worried. Did NOT expect a show like this, or for there to be streamers and columns right overhead!

There were at least a hundred other people out there; probably more, considering the parking lot was packed and people were parked all along the roads on the approach. We arrived around 10:30pm, and left at midnight. More people were still driving up and streaming in as we left.

At the bottom left: a bit closer to what it looked like with the naked eye, although not quite, either. Obviously, though, it didn't look as bright as all of the photos; apparently camera sensors can pick up on the lights better than we can. But when we arrived, at first we wondered if we were seeing wispy clouds lit by cityshine from below, until realizing they were definitely GREEN and showing streaks and columns. We could also make out the pink colors unaided. I guess I'd say that the light created by them felt like a half-moon lit night?

Middle bottom is the look straight overhead. Bottom right is the pic my friend took that showed me adjusting settings on my phone, lol.

So, incredible experience, and we had a lot of luck with the weather. A few clouds but mostly not. Just AMAZING to be able to SEE it with the naked eye. And can't get over how relatively well the photos came out just with a phone camera.

Good luck to everyone who will be trying in the coming days! The forecast for tonight is really strong again (Kp:9, which is the highest), and some articles I've seen say the lights should be visible for the next few days. So if your weather doesn't cooperate tonight, I hope you get another shot at it!

(My only advice would be to take pics with your phone camera, even if you can't make out anything right away. And, I only had luck by slightly zooming in. I kept trying to zoom out and get a wider shot, and the viewscreen went black and I got nothing. Zoom in, and I could see the blotchy colors show up on the screen; took the pics with 3 second exposure. Didn't look like anything on the viewscreen, and could only see what I got later.)

#aurora borealis #halibut state park ma #my photos #ids in alt

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makethatelevenrings · 7 days

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Angel by the Wing - THIRTY-FOUR

chapter warnings: swearing? but like, if you're this far in the fic, you should be aware of that

Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)

“The baby’s yours.” The words fell out of his mouth before he could rein them back in. Jake could have just taken his bag and walked out of the door, but when he walked out of the bedroom, he found Bradley seated on the arm of the couch and grinning down at you while you talked about something. Your hands had been waving in the air as you chattered on, but they froze midair at his declaration.

“What are you talking about?” Bradley stood from the couch to face Jake. You sat up, your complexion a little greener than before. Jake held up the paternity tests and tossed them at the two of you.

“It’s yours. But I bet you already knew that,” he seethed. Bradley’s eyes flickered down towards the papers that were settling on the floor and then glanced back at you.

“I hadn’t told either of you yet,” you explained. You stood, feeling at a disadvantage, and Skipper pawed at your hands. You were suddenly grateful for the cat who curled up in your arms, placing a proverbial and literal barrier between you and the two men.

“When were you going to tell us?” Bradley’s question was soft and not accusatory which is the opposite of the hard, rigid lines in Jake’s shoulders and jaw.

“I don’t…” Your voice was thick as you tried to explain. “I don’t know. I didn’t…so much was changing and happening. I was going to and I’m sorry, I-“

“We discussed this before. It’s important to know family history to protect you and the baby.” Bradley’s voice was even and sure. He balanced the emotions in the room with careful words.

“At least we know who it is now because it could have been anyone,” Jake muttered.

And all hell broke loose.

“Hey!” Bradley snapped. Your grip on Skipper tightened minutely before you gently released him to hop back onto the couch. Bradley moved to block you from moving forward as rage consumed you.

Jake paled as his words sank in and he opened his mouth to apologize but any words were met with a throw pillow from the couch colliding with his face. Bradley wound his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his chest so you didn’t wiggle out of his arms.

“Fuck you, Jacob Seresin. Fuck you!”

“I didn’t mean that!”

A startled, bitter laugh escaped you and you reached for another throw pillow but Bradley maneuvered you away from the couch. “So what did you mean? You meant to call me a slut and not a whore? You meant to imply that I’ve slept only with the greater metro area of San Diego? Rich coming from a manwhore like you.”

A fire lit in your eyes and you yanked yourself away from Bradley. Your eyes landed on the duffle bag at Jake’s feet and you scoffed. “Of course. Of fucking course. The great Jake Seresin senses a whiff of commitment and runs the second he gets a glimpse of freedom. Now that you’re sure it isn’t yours, you’re going to take the chance to run.”

Bradley stiffened and surged forward, placing himself between you and Jake. He saw the way the blond’s jaw clenched and his fists balled up.

“Big, bad Jake Seresin is scared of some feelings,” you taunted. The gloves were off and the claws were out. You were sick and tired of being a simpering, hormonal mess. Anger settled in your veins and flooded your system as a balm to your wounded pride. “Well, looks like you’re off the hook. That’s what you’ve been looking for this whole time, right? You heard that you might be a father and you just couldn’t handle it. Guess it all works out in the end for you. Now you can go find some other girl to warm your bed before you ditch her too.”

“Hey, that’s enough,” Bradley warned.

“What, he can’t take a little heat? Thought you were better than this, Seresin, but I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

It was a low blow and you knew it. Your mouth parted with a stuttered exhale and then you swore quietly under your breath as Jake grabbed the straps of his duffle bag and stormed out of the townhome. Footsteps followed but he didn’t give a shit.

“C’mon, Hangman, this is your place.” Rooster was the one that followed him. Always so fucking noble. Good thing the kid was his because then they couldn’t attribute any problems to Jake’s fucked up family.

“I don’t care.” It doesn’t sound like him, this easy defeat. Jake tosses his bag into the cab of his truck and reaches for the driver’s side handle when Bradley grabs his wrist. Jake hates that a pulse of want rushes through him at the touch. There’s not a lot of men who are bigger than him, so Bradley’s easy confidence and casual display of strength always knocked the air out of his lungs.

“Jake.” His name sounds wrong in Rooster’s mouth. “Just stop and think this through. You’re hurt and acting irrationally and-”

“I thought you’d be happy that it’s yours. I’m out of the picture now. There’s no competition, Rooster. It’s always you. It was always going to be you.”

Bradley’s gaze sharpens and Jake has to look away from the sheer depth of his scrutiny. He notes a scratch in the paint on the door of his truck and files away a mental reminder to get that buffed out.

“Why are you doing this?” Rooster’s voice is softer than he expected and it makes Jake’s words catch on the lump in his throat.

“You said it yourself. All I’ll do is fuck it up. I’ve failed so many people. Don’t make me add you three to the list. I’ve fucked it up over and over again. I’m no good, Bradshaw. Let me make this easy for you. Let me go.”

Bradley’s grip instantly loosened around his wrist and it dawned on him what he meant. The night in the bar, that very first night, when he made that offhand comment. A bitter reminder about the past.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Bradley argued. “I didn’t mean that you-”

“But I did. I do. I could have gotten my mom and sister out of their sooner. I could have saved Frankie. I could have stopped that fighter before it got so close to you and Mav and now you can’t fucking sleep at night. I can and I will ruin that kid’s life if you let me stay. I know you’re looking at houses so just…let me know when you get a place for her. She deserves it. I don’t.”

His fingers curled around the handle and he yanked the door open before Bradley could stop him. In fact, he didn’t even try to stop him. He just stepped back and watched in silence as the truck peeled out of the driveway.

Bradley slowly walked back into the house only to be greeted with an oppressive silence cloaking every nook and cranny in the place. It wasn’t meticulously clean like Jake typically keeps his places. It hadn’t been spotless ever since you and Bradley had taken up residence in his bed.

He peered into the living room and found it empty. The kitchen was also empty. He was about to enter the bedroom to check when Skipper approached. The cat bumped his little head against Bradley’s ankles and wound his way through his legs before padding off towards the guest bedroom.

When Bradley opened the door, he found you seated in the middle of the room and staring at the empty room. Fitting, he thought. The room certainly reflected the way the whole house felt.

“I didn’t mean to say it,” you whispered hoarsely.

“I think a lot of things were said that we didn’t mean,” he soothed. You blinked up at him with tear-filled eyes and Bradley pushed away from the doorframe to join you on the floor. He slid his arm around your shoulders and drew you close. He felt your tears more than he heard them, Jake’s words still ringing in his ears. Your body trembled as you wept and all Bradley could do was lay you both down on the floor and cradle you close.

Tag list: @mizzzpink @xoxabs88xox @dreaminglandsworld @khaylin27 @loveforaugust @atarmychick007 @itsmytimetoodream @krismdavis @emma8895eb @hangmandruigandmav @lunamoonbby @sihtricswife @jstarr86 @drakelover78 @abaker74 @hardballoonlove @nerdgirljen @primroseluna @espressopatronum454

#jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin #abtw #hangman x reader #rooster x reader #sereshaw x reader

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laviudanegra99 · 4 months

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Craving attention

lewis hamilton x rapper!reader✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Author's note♡: I finally got myself together to write for the first time, so I'm happy I guess?? Idk what I'm doing so pls forgive me if I mess up this whole thing

(Also English isn't my first language, but I've been learning it since I'm really young, so I think that won't be a problem)

Trigger warning: cheating, angst, use of Y/N, swear words, description of bodies, slight sexual themes +heavily implied religious Latina reader

You are driving home from the studio. You call Lewis, like you always do when he happens to be home. It's winter break in F1, so he has more free time than usually, but you can't take advantage of that, because you're working on your upcoming studio album. To your surprise Lewis doesn't pick the phone up. "He might be asleep" -you say to yourself. You never know what he's up to when you're away from home, but it doesn't bother you: you trust him. You finally pull up in the driveway and smile to yourself as you get out of the car, happy you're home early. You mostly arrive home late night, around 10-11 pm or even at midnight, but today Metro Boomin, the producer you're working on your new album with, told you to go home early. He knows how little time you get to spend with your boo.

You walk up to the door and walk in, greeting your boyfriend: "Lew, baby, I'm home!" He doesn't answer. You figure he's indeed asleep. Your bedroom is upstairs, in the other side of the house, so he can't hear your arrival. You tip-toe your way towards your bedroom, careful not to wake him, but the closer you get the more you hear the sounds of two people. You would think he's watching a movie, but you could tell his voice out of a million other ones. To your surprise the other voice belong to a female. The door was slightly open so you peeked in -just a little. Enough to see a skinny, blonde girl -your complete opposite- putting her clothes back on as Lewis is watching her. Tears well up in your eyes as you keep watching their interaction, slowly pushing the door open, while looking daggers at Lewis. If looks could kill, he would be dead. You slam the door behind you as you ask "why?"

Lewis immediately tries to explain it to you (if you can even explain anything in this situation), but you disrupt him: "Just shut the fuck up! Now tell me the truth..." He can't find the words, his eyes become watery.

"It's just- I'm sorry, I- I just missed your attention, love, please"

"I don't need your apology. This is just... asqueroso. Did he at least tell you he has a girl?" You look questioningly at the blonde. She just shakes her head no, while giving you a sympathizing look.

"¡serpiente!" You tell him through your teeth. "Get outta here! Not you though" You make the girl stay.

You try to be as kind to her as possible as she didn't know he had a girlfriend. As Lewis quickly skitters out of your house you sit the girl down on the sofa. "You need a drink?"

She whispers. "Yes please" She seems nervous, but you try to treat her the best you can. You hand her your water bottle, that you bought on your way home, letting her know it isn't open yet.

"When did this start?" My tears are still falling, but now that you don't see Lewis, you're starting to calm down a bit.

"A couple months ago, in a party. I thought he was single" She says, visibly upset.

"Didn't you recognise who he was though?" Lewis is pretty famous, not only as an athlete, but also as your boyfriend.

"He never told me he was famous. He's that racing driver? I love your songs, but I don't really watch F1 and I'm not into celebrities' lives like that."

"Thanks for telling me. May the Lord bless your soul."

"No problem. I'm sorry you had to walk in on that." She looks down, clearly embarrassed, while taking a sip of her water.

"How did you get here by the way?"

She looks down on the ground. "Lewis gave me a ride."

"Lemme call you an Uber." You sit down on the couch next to her, while yours tears start falling again.

"Thank you." She puts an arm around you after you throw your phone on the bed from the couch. "Are you okay? That guy's a dick, isn't he?" You just nod as you hug each other. She smells like vanilla and coconut shampoo.

"It's just... you're the complete opposite of me" I cry on her shoulder.

"Looks wise?" You nod. "You're beautiful!"

I smile through my tears. "Just like you"

"Thanks. Let's just agree we're both pretty, and have amazing personalities and he's just a prick." She smiles as you giggle.

"Doja was right. N✭ggas ain't shit." You both just giggle.

"Oh, the Uber's here. You'll find your way out?" She nods. Before she leaves you exchange numbers and hug each others goodbye.

After she left you put your hype song on: Drop the World by Lil Wayne ft. Eminem. You take Lewis' clothes, put them in his bags and throw them out the window, on the street. You decide to take care of his stuff (aka keep them). He has enough money to buy new stuff, right? You look in the mirror and run your hands through your curves while wiping your tears away -your better off this way. You decide to hit the stu and continue your work with Metro -maybe you'll bond will go deeper with him, now that you're both single?

Sorry if this was bad, I tried my best. Pls reblog if you liked it and if there's something I messed up pls tell me, I'm really tryna get better🤍🤍🤍

Here's a c.ai link if you'd like your own ending ↪ https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=R3uGZM2fgWVbGjwgyVlvZxujjUL0Xba9slJOKDv8Mwc

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x yn #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x latina!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #f1 x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 drivers x reader #f1 #formula 1 #f1 driver #f1 drivers #angst #lewis hamilton angst #cheating

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seilahscopium · 10 months

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protected in the rain

♡ I grant a wish for whoever summons me and take one thing as a payment ♡ 𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐚: In the rain with Megumi and saying something sweet to him<3 𝐒𝐰𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Megumi Fushiguro ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ thinking about being out in the rain with Megumi at night time. you didn't have an umbrella and were holding hands as you walked the streets and only got light from the lamposts and signs of the shops you passed. when you got off the metro it was raining and you had to still had to walk all the way to Jujustu High. Megumi's shoulders would slightly droop, not at all wanting to walk in the rain- especially without an umbrella. "We have to walk for like eight minutes," he told you checking his phone for directions and soon deadpanning as he added, "Actually it's going to be a little longer than that." You were barely listening, just wanting to walk out into the rain already. you leaned back and forth on your heels, holding his arm for support, and looked at him, "I'm fine with it. It was super hot all day so getting to walk in the rain would be a nice way to cool off don't you think?" he guesses you were right. he gave a nod to your words, which you took as the go-ahead, and pulled him out into the wet streets. even if Megumi looked laid-back and stayed quiet, he was actually looking out for you. you didn't see it but he was watching you the entire time and glanced at the shady people you would pass. for your safety. he makes sure to hold your hand at all times since you had a habit of leaving if something caught your eye. you were not...the most aware of your surroundings and turned your brain off when with Megumi. you were stomping in the puddles as you walked across the crosswalks. he wasn't the most amused when you stomped in the puddles because it got his pants wet -_- you were also talking about literally anything that crossed your mind, so he'd listen and make sure to give replies when it was needed. when you got near an area without as many people, he'd scold you about being not aware of your surroundings as much as you should be. and he says all of this because it's Megumi's way of showing he cares about you. "There could be shady people creeping around who want to mug you or take advantage of you. you need to make sure you're more aware of your surroundings, y/n." he'd tell you, still holding your hand since you weren't all the way in the school's area just yet you listen to him talk, giving him the respect of eye contact and everything, and Megumi thought his words finally got through to you. you'd act at least a little more guarded in public thanks to him. however, all you did was hum. "but if you're with me then I don't have to worry about anything," what. did you not hear a word he said? "because you'll always be here to protect me, right?" you added ... "...well yeah, but..." Megumi trailed off, letting your words sink in. you trusted him and knew he'd take care of you from anyone bad. you didn't have a doubt in your mind that he would protect you. so much trust just in him and him alone. there was literally someone like Gojo and you still chose to be protected by Megumi. the tip of his ears flushed pink and he turned his head to the side, gripping your hand a bit tighter, and continued walking to the school. "...fine, I'll look after you. but if I'm not around make sure to look after yourself," he said quietly, but you could hear him just fine "alright" you nodded you went back to looking at the things around you and looking at the trees and whatnot, just anything colorful to keep your eyes occupied. and Megumi had the smallest smile on his lips.

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro

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sgiandubh · 6 months

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"He's actually paying those PR people? Whatever for? A drunk wombat would be better at the task." I LOL'd because my god have we been asking this very question of both Sam and Cait for years. They're PR is actually the worst. It's honestly hard to believe at times. Absolutely zero idea who either of them are trying to reach. The recalibrating after that VF disaster sent Cait into hiding, I'm not sure she's done another print interview since Belfast promo ended and if the Sam articles are going to continue on this way, he can quit too. Boring.

Dear Quit Anon,

I am flattered I managed to bring a smile or even a LOL, but I am not particularly glad about it. Unlike droves of people who think this PR shitshow is sad, I actually find it mystifying.

You are right. Goddess C went into occultation after that cursed VF interview. There are clear reasons, I think, for that. Also, please take into account the fact that, despite the illusions peddled by some fuckwits in this fandom, there are many things we simply do not know (nor should we, most probably).

As for S, I guess that ever since she went totally MIA (as I said, make-up and fash-un promo don't really compensate), he is overexposing himself. On purpose. Perhaps to protect her (I think so). Certainly to hide something. Since this is no way in hell about being gay (I will die on that hill and I know I am right), the only thing he could hide is well... I don't really need to draw it, do I?

Smoke and mirrors is always a risky strategy. S simply hasn't got what it takes to play that game long term, probably for the same reasons he was never a serious shortlist candidate for Bond. At this point in time, he'd mechanically go with whatever merde du jour is thrown by his imbecile PR on the table. Still, it's high time he'd seriously pull himself together. He can do better, as I wrote in a comment: he can do NYT and he did it very well, recently. And I was glad to see that. But Metro is just disappointing, clueless and tasteless. And it's padding up a press portfolio with amiable, meaningless bullshit that goes nowhere. Or at least nowhere near he wants to be or see himself in, let's say, five years from now.

OL is going to end. It has to. It's been both a blessing and a curse, I said that before. Then, it will be high time to end the fucking Truman Show. He (abstractly) knows that, he keeps hinting about it. “I’m ready for new challenges, but also nervous about what it’s like in the real world” - for some reason, I found this phrase very telling. But I doubt he internalized what probably still feels like a safely remote occurrence, right now.

What are his real projects? For the moment, zero. Directing? I'd love to see it, but he's got no real credentials for that. Bond? I mean, publicly gushing and insisting is not going to manifest it. He needs a real movie, a good one to break that glass ceiling. Is he going to get it? I hope so. But his personal brand awareness is still low. The PR clowns should stop talking to us, in here: we are already here and not going anywhere. All of us: antis, mommies, shippers, fencers, haters, trolls. They should talk to the people who have no clue who S is, and do it differently. He should step out of his comfort zone, ditch the leeches and refuse to discuss his personal life, for a while. There, I said it.

What are her real projects? For the moment, not much. Sure, we have The Cut, where I gather her part is minimalistic, to be kind. We also have The Amateur, of which very little is known at the moment. However, if I am correct, she is not one of the leads. Enough said. And beyond that? Crickets.

Make no mistake. The real litmus test is not now. The real litmus test is 2025. And then we'll see. And I'll still be here, taking weeping Anons because I don't know who said I don't know what I don't know where. Mark me.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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pommunist · 2 months

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honnestly im kind of sad we will never see any non european french speakers on qsmp :( i was hoping one day i would be able to hear quebecois french on a popular project, i wanted to see how the culture and dialects were different, and have cultural exchange even just between the same language. it would have been so cool, because quebecois and metro french have this sort of wall between them, with a lot of quebecers kind of seeing european french as pretentious, because a lot of the media from france that gets to quebec is them shitting on quebec and making fun and calling it backwards. it would have been great to see something where they got to interact and share differences and similarities but i guess that will never happen because of lack of communication. :(

my only consolation is finding out that at least eventually they had a few canadians on the french twitter team

YES YES YES YES 👆👆

This is something I’ve always wanted for the QSMP, that we would some day get more French and Portuguese speakers who are not from countries that are not France/Brasil.

Quebec is a big one obviously but I also would have loved seeing french speakers from Algeria, Belgium, Morocco, Congo etc etc

Or even French people but who don’t come from Metro France but instead from Guadeloupe, La Reunion, Mayotte…

That would have been a great way to introduce even more cultures without having to introduce a whole new language (meaning having to new admins that speak that languages and all that implies). Maybe it would have needed some translator improvements to deal with the different accents/slangs idk but yeah 😔

(Also that’s crazy because now that I think about it Canada doesn’t even have an english speaking rep on the server ?? hello ?? but at least you got Mike Tazercraft now)

#qsmp #also ik quebec and canada can’t be equated at all bc a large numbers of reason #my last sentence is just that it occurred to me that canada as a whole is just not represented #unless i’m wrong and forgetting like an obvious persons???

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centralperkchenford · 8 months

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Chenford + Lucy gets hurt during the secret dating era and Tim cant contain how worried he is

I’m not sure what everyone else considers the secret dating era but personally I consider it up until the Valentine’s Day episode where their friends clearly knew. So this one is before that.

That nothing safe is worth the drive and I will Follow you, follow you home

It’s not like people don’t know that Tim cares about Lucy, but they don’t know how deep those feelings actually go. He knows that’s it’s only a matter of time before people find out they are dating but they have for the most part been doing pretty good. They keep their distance at work no matter how many times Tim wants to go over and walk besides her. They don’t normally ride in together and if they do they go in at separate times. It’s a pain but it’s worth it, Lucy is worth it.

But Tim knows there will be a breaking point and he guesses today is the day. The call comes in on the radio as Tim is driving to a scene with one of the metro guys. And Aaron’s voice comes in loud and clear over the radio. Tim grips the steering wheel, and he tries to ignore the fact that his heart feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.

“We need an RA to the scene. Officer Chen has been shot.” Aaron voice says. Tim nearly runs into the car in front of him.

“Sir are you alright?” Mad Dog asks him. Tim doesn’t answer right away, he’s not sure he can talk without giving anything away.

“I’m fine.” He bites out. “Just my former Rookie.” My girlfriend. Mad Dog looks at him strangely.

“Didn’t know you cared about your former rookie so much sarge.” He says. And if Tim wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack he would retort back. He continues driving and before he knows it he’s pulling into the hospital parking lot.

He ignores Mad Dog’s look and he gets out of the shop. “Sir.” Says Mad Dog his voice cautious. “We need to get to—”

“You go.” Tim snaps. He just needed to make sure Lucy was okay. He wouldn’t be able to focus if he didn’t at least see her. He would deal with Pine later.

Mad Dog climbs out of the shop and heads towards Tim. His face determined. “I will go with you.”

But Tim shakes his head, “No. You go to the scene. I- need to do this by myself.” He says. “There’s no need for both of us to get in trouble.” Mad Dog hesitates but nods and heads to the drivers side of the shop. Tim waits until he is gone and then he heads towards the emergency room.

He spots Aaron first and his heart nearly jumps out of his chest again when he’s sees his white shirt covered in blood.

“Thorsen.” Tim barks and the younger man jumps at his voice. Tim stands in front of him and looks at him expectantly.

“What’s the status on Chen?” He says his voice shaking a bit. Aaron sighs.

“She’s in surgery. The bullet just missed a main artery. She’s going to be fine.” He says. Tim closes his eyes. Thank god. But his chest still feels tight and he knows that it won’t go away until he sees Lucy with his own eyes.

“Sir what are you doing here?” Aaron asks him. Tim looks up at him words whirling around in his head.

“I heard it over the radio.” He says. “Lucy is important to me.” Aaron looks like he wants to say something. But he clamps his mouth shut. Smart man.

His phone buzzes and he answers already knowing who it is. “Bradford.” Pine barks. “Why aren’t you on scene?”

Tim takes a deep breath, ready to reveal his relationship with Lucy to Pine.

“I just need to be here.” He says. “Officer Chen was shot.”

Pine makes a noise over the phone. “Understood. You get one pass Bradford next time I won’t be so nice.” She says sternly.

Tim sucks in a breath and he wonders if Mad Dog told Pine about how panicked he was in the shop. “Yes ma’am understood.” He says. Pine hangs up without saying goodbye and Tim turns back to Aaron.

“I guess we just wait.” He says. Aaron nods and Tim sits down in a chair. He puts his face in his hands and sucks in another breath. He just got Lucy after so many months of denial and pushing down feelings. After the UC op, and Ashley breaking up with him. He finally was brave enough to admit he wanted her. And she wanted him back. He couldn’t lose her. He’s not sure he would survive if he did.

Someone sits down next to him and he feels a hand on his back. He looks up to see Angela looking at him sympathetically.

“Tim.” She says quietly. He just shakes his head at her. He suspects Angela knows but her being well her.. she wasn’t going to admit until they came clean.

“It’s Lucy.” He whispers. Angela hums and runs a hand up his back and then down again. “How can I not worry?”

Angela hums again. “I know Tim.” She says quietly. “Believe me.” Tim doesn’t say anything else he just puts his head between his legs blinking back the tears.

It feels like an eternity before the surgeon came out. “Family of Lucy Chen.” He calls out. Tim jumps up without thinking.

“I’m her medical proxy.” He says. “Timothy Bradford.” The surgeon looks at him curiously, and the nods his head.

“Okay.” He says slowly. “The surgery was successful. We managed to get the bullet out and stop the bleeding. She is still asleep, but you can go in.” Tim is bouncing nervously on his toes.

“Can I-” He glances back at Aaron and Angela who are both standing behind him. “Can I see her please?”

The surgeon nods and leads him away to her room. He peeks in his heart pounding. She looks so small in the end and she’s covered in wires. Her eyes are closed and her hair is swept to the side. He pulls up a chair and grabs her hand rubs her hand.

“Lucy.” He says his voice shaking. “I was so worried. I did a very Un Bradford thing and rushed here. And you will either tease me or be mad at me but I don’t care. I just needed to see you.” Lucy doesn’t wake but Tim keeps talking. He talks until his throat his dry and he lays his head down next to her. He closes his eyes falling to sleep to the sound of her steady breathing.

***

Tim wakes up to fingers combing through his hair. He looks up to see Lucy staring at him her eyes tired.

“Hi.” He says his voice rough with sleep. He scoots closer to her, still holding her hand. “How long have you been up?”

“Just woke up.” She mutters. “And it was a pleasant surprise to wake up to my boyfriend beside me.” Tim smiles at boyfriend.

“Why aren’t you at work?” She asks. He scoffs and rubs his thumb across her palm.

“You know better than anyone I wouldn’t be able to concentrate knowing that you were hurt.” He says. Lucy hums and reaches up to cup his face.

“I know.” She says her eyes searching his face. “I’m glad you are here.” He stands up and bends over to kiss her softly. She reaches up to hold him in place despite still being attached to the IV and other machines.

“I was worried.” He says. She makes a soft noise and pulls him down to kiss her. It’s soft and slow and it’s much like their real first kiss.

“I hate that you were worried.” She mutters.

He kisses her again. He can’t seem to get enough of her now that he knows she’s okay. “I will always be worried about you Lucy.”

“Mmhmm.” Says Lucy. He puts his forehead against hers and breathes her in. They stay like that for a minute before there’s a cough from behind them. Tim jumps back and looks behind him to see Angela standing at the doorway with a smug look on her face.

“Aaron owns me fifty dollars.” She says. Tim rolls his eyes at her. And then leans down to kiss Lucy again feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

#chenford #the rookie #chenford fanfic #tim bradford #tim x lucy #lucy chen #chenford fic #anon answered

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burntheedges · 1 month

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Another made up fic title:

Loose Change

ooh El this one is interesting --

You've developed a network of spots that you like to play in, places that have good foot traffic but aren't so crowded that you or your open case get bumped (or your hard-earned cash gets stolen -- it's happened before). It's a couple of metro stations, an open area in a park near Adams Morgan, and a corner on the mall in warmer months. You try to cycle through them so you don't get bored, so the people walking by don't get tired of your music. But it's getting harder to resist going to the Archives station every morning you can, if you have time before whatever practice or rehearsal you have that day. Just on the off chance you'll see him again. He's clearly a fed -- he wears a suit and walks like the rest of them, as they head up and out of the station to work. You're close enough to the Hoover buildling to assume that that must be where he works, so you'd decided weeks ago that he's probably FBI. But he doesn't look like an FBI agent. He's too hot, for one. And the way he smiles at you? With that scruffy beard and adorably tousled hair? And those eyes? Fuck. And every morning that you're there, without fail, he digs in his pocket to drop his loose change in your open violin case after he stops and listens to you for at least a few minutes. You noticed that he's been walking by earlier and earlier -- you try not to guess (or hope) that it's because he wants to be able to stop longer, to listen to you longer. Even though he does. And then on a random Tuesday in September he walks up as normal, leaning on the wall nearby with a smile on his face to listen to you play. You smile and try not to look back at him, try to play the crowd. But your eyes are drawn back to his over and over again. On this particular morning you need to get going around the time he normally leaves, so you start to pack up just when he goes to walk past, digging in his pocket. When he sees that you're leaving, too, he stops. "Maybe I could buy you a coffee this time instead?"

send me a made up fic title and I'll tell you what I would write for it

#marcus pike x reader #ask me anything #fic title asks

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arogustus · 1 month

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Splatband Analysis - SashiMori

(Disclaimer: This analysis is based on what I get out of looking into the character descriptions we have of the splatband characters. If you disagree with what I say, that is fine, we are all beheld to our opinions. Just don't be a jerk about it.)

SashiMori. The band best known for several things. Giving us the dopest trailer of Splatoon 2, having Da Boy, Paul, as a member, and of course the ever present mystery of the mysterious former lead singer. Let’s talk about them.

The band

SashiMori started life as a loud rock band, Ryu-Chang, Karla and Taichi alongside the mysterious vocalist. According to Taichi’s descriptions, it seems he’s the one who founded the band in the first place, but lost control of it to their self-centered, authoritarian vocalist. We have yet to learn the identity of this strange, mysterious person… but we’re pretty sure it’s Pearl. Like, it’s mentioned in Karla’s section in Haikara Walker that the vocalist of the band before SashiMori (the context here either means a different band they were in or SashiMori itself before they took on the name, it’s vague) had vocals so strong only they were capable of handling it. We know Pearl was a death metal artist who wrecked her venues a lot, and it’s not a guess to say she was probably a lot more domineering before meeting Marina. They actually asked Nogami himself about this fact, and said it was up to our imagination. That’s just a roundabout way of saying “yes, but we’re not gonna tell you that.”

Eitherway, the other three kicked their vocalist and stuck together as an instrumental band before deciding to search for a new one. Clearly the three were close enough that they willingly stuck together and united against a common foe in order to keep playing without problems. So, they put out an application of fish Twitter, and that’s where Paul comes in. They laughed at first, seeing such a smol bean trying to join the big leagues. But once he wowed them, they made him the centerpiece of the band's sound, and SashiMori was born.

They also got to make an appearance in the White Day artwork, chilling with the homies of Bottom Feeders and Hightide Era. Well, all but one of them. You’ll see why in a bit.

Ryu Chang

Our big man Ryu is first. He’s a carp who grew up in a prestigious home at the base of Mount Nantai (another Pearl reference, seriously), who became a punk during his teen years and an established drummer after that. He was 35 in Splatoon 2, and that back in 2018, meaning he should be at least 41 by now (we are growing ever older every day). There isn’t much of a description of what he’s like now, but he did have a rebellious teenager phase at least, so it’s likely all that punk ideology stuff has carried on into adult life. He illustrates as a hobby, and created the little mascot you see in SashiMori’s album art, Mr. Wasabi. Wonder what the little guy is about.

He’s got a Rainmaker team going on with Kuze and Blow, Underpass Bass Drum, so he’s active in the Turfing scene. And as we established, the two also showed up in the Deep Sea Metro concert to perform for a bit. One thing I wanna note is that it’s considered an impromptu performance. They didn’t plan to perform together at the place, which begs the question: what were they doing in the Deep Sea Metro? Were they simply attending and got dragged on stage… wait, actually that makes sense.

He’s kinda hard to read in the White Day Art. He’s sitting with Blow and Taka, and we know he’s friends with Blow. The only other thing to tell is that he’s very much watching Finn and Tangle fight, but his eternal fish face makes it hard to tell what he feels about it. Concern? Annoyance? Attraction? Who knows.

Karla

Karla is a mystery. They’re very quiet, their age is a mystery, and no one even knows how they eat! Well, actually, according to science, the Scaly-Foot Gastropod doesn’t eat at all, but rather relies on symbiosis with bacteria living inside them to get nutrition. Sooo, yeah, lady just doesn’t eat anything. Neat.

That’s what their description focuses on, being very quiet and mysterious. Doesn’t even respond to questions during interviews, just goes “...” and that’s it. Obviously no indication that they outright can’t talk, just that they rarely do. They’re the silent type, maybe out of shyness, maybe because they just don’t have much to say, or maybe a third thing. At least it’s stated they don’t have bad intentions, so you know, they’re not evil.

Fun fact, Karla’s design is actually reused from an old concept for one of the Denizens of the Deep that would show up in the train. While that is concept stuff that didn’t make it in, and doesn’t mean that them being from the Metro is true, the evidence does point to it being a possibility. Would certainly explain their quirks.

Out of the four, Karla doesn’t show up in the White Day artwork. Finn is there, and she’s (evidently) female, so that wasn’t really a reason to stop them from showing up. Maybe they were hiding out of frame? Maybe they took the picture? Or maybe they’re just asocial and didn’t want to come hang.

Taichi Sawaberu

Taichi is, as can be inferred from the text, the founder of the band. He created SashiMori cause he wanted to add singing to his music after mostly being an instrumentalist, which as we can tell didn’t end well. Is the most experienced member of the band, being an experienced studio musician and all, so he’s been in the business for a while. He also has a lot of activities outside of the band. Hobbies most likely. You know, stuff like surfing, competitive knitting, high stakes bingo, whatever other kinds of hobbies exist. He must get out a lot.

Compared to the other two, he wasn’t fond of Paul at first. He thought he was, to quote, “tiny and awful.” Now, it’s hard to say if this actually applies to Paul for real, as from what we see, nothing really indicates him being an awful kid in any way. He did change his mind after a while, at least, so maybe he was just projecting onto him? If the Pearl theory is correct, it would actually make sense that he was projecting onto Paul his last experience with a small person. His opinion must be a lot more positive now.

We see in the White Day artwork that he’s having a spirited conversation with Nishida. Far as we know, Nishida is pretty introverted, so Taichi must have somehow gotten through to him. What they’re talking about is unknown, but let’s just place this as Taichi x Nishida friendship (wow!)

Paul

Autism be damned, that octo boy can work a turntable. Paul is the highlight of SashiMori, a ten year old octoling who’s the replacement of the previous singer. Instead of singing, though, he provides vocals by remixing them from whatever sources he’s got, including ancient human vinyls. He’s a DJ like most octolings, but he’s actually labeled a particular type of DJ. A turntablist, to be precise.

I’m gonna give thanks to @porubiteki, a moot of mine who knows a ton about DJ stuff and did all this research well before I decided to do this series. A Turntablist is a type of DJ specializing in manipulating music in real time. It’s basically the record scratching you see TV DJ’s do, but far more focused on compared to other forms of DJing. You actually hear that a lot in SashiMori’s music, which features it far more than any other of the Splatoon DJ’s. It’s also a well respected title in the DJ world due to how difficult it is to master the technique, and considering how Paul is highlighted as highly talented to the point of wowing three experienced musicians, it's safe to say he’s worthy of the title.

Personality wise, we don’t get too much. What we know is he remixes from a lot of other DJs, meaning he’s a fan of any DJ’s work. As highlighted above, he is very talented, which can only come from extensive work on his craft, especially for someone his age. Taichi thought of him as “tiny and awful”, but if the Pearl theory applies, it’s likely he was projecting onto Paul for being small. We see him playing chess, and humiliating his opponent Jawn in the process, so his smarts extend outside of DJ work too. Also, it’s well known that child prodigies tend to be a lot more mature for their ages, so it’s likely he might have some of those traits.

And now for the big question. Are he and Acht related or not? It’s a common question asked due to the fact he wears a beanie with a tag that has the same logo as DJ Def1sh, a crude doodle of an octopus face. Haikara Walker itself brings up the question, in the same paragraph as Acht’s potential relation to Marina. Specifically, they might be blood relatives, or just follow the same brand. Side Order revealed the Marina thing to be true… and it didn’t reveal anything about Paul. You had one job, Nintendo.

While Karla is the one with the “mysterious past”, Paul here is probably the one where the trope fits the most. It’s because his existence raises a lot more questions than it answers. Regardless of what his relation to Acht is, it’s clear from that that he’s from the domes. So, what’s a kid his age doing on the surface? When did he get there? The fact he had a Squid Twitter account implies he’s been around long enough to get familiar with all that stuff. Why is he even on fish Twitter anyway? Doesn’t he know that shit can traumatize even adults? Does he have parents? If not, has he been homeless the entire time before meeting SashiMori? Cause a kid doesn’t just show up to a band audition without at least some implication of family having taken him there. Questions and questions. Where is he now? Nintendo, please, tell us where our boy is, WE BEG Y-

—

And that does it for SashiMori. We are now left with three bands. Hightide Era, Chirpy Chips and ω-3.

#splatoon #splatbands #splatband analysis #sashimori #ryu chang #karla #taichi sawaberu #dj paul #my work #i'm back baby

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