#might color it if I’m not too lazy

[skimpilydressedwithanaxe]

woahhh bbg you're taking requests? could you draw my oc, Jay? :) xoxo

Hope I did a good job at translating your guy in my style

[kinggalexy]

Laaate night Lamb practice, I started getting silly at the end but also lazy.

[eyeballsoup7310]

Happy ten years to Greenglass house! When I become a ghost I better be able to befriend someone and rob their attic

[arolesbianism]

Try 3 of a Kickz redesign, and I thinkkkkk I like it ok? Not sure if it’ll stick but I’m giving it a shot

[justcat-judging]

₊ ⊹𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-challenging them to an arm wrestling but you flashed to win!

⋆. 𐙚˚-blue lock x reader

⋆. 𐙚˚- this I based on a trend going around on tiktok!

₊ ⊹ 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐘𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"No Defense"

“Let’s arm wrestle.”

Isagi glanced up from the game he was playing, a bit surprised. “Arm wrestling? Why?”

You gave a mischievous smile. “Just humor me.”

He chuckled, setting the controller down and moving to the table with you. “Alright, alright. But I’m warning you—I might go easy on you.”

“Sure you will,” you said, resting your elbow down and locking fingers with his.

He looked at you with that usual gentle curiosity, like he was already trying to read your every move. “One… two…”

But before he heard “three,” you unzipped your jacket slowly, revealing bare skin underneath.

Isagi’s breath caught.

“Three,” you said, pushing his hand down without effort.

“…You totally cheated,” he murmured, eyes still on your chest, a light pink tint coloring his cheeks.

You grinned, going to zip your jacket back up, but his hand reached out—not to stop you, but to gently rest on your wrist.

“…Don’t,” he said softly.

You blinked. “Oh?”

He scratched the back of his neck, not meeting your eyes. “I wasn’t gonna win anyway… kinda liked losing like that.”

You smiled, tilting his chin up with your free hand. “So what now?”

Isagi leaned in just slightly, his voice low and warm. “Now… I think you owe me a rematch. This time, I lose slower.”

You laughed, leaning closer. “Deal.”

₊ ⊹ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"Trickster Play"

“You. Me. Arm wrestling. Now.”

Bachira’s eyes lit up instantly, his grin stretching wide. “Ohoho? You challenging me, little monster?”

You raised a brow. “Are you gonna talk or wrestle?”

He practically bounced over to the table, sliding into the seat with a dramatic wiggle. “You’re on! But don’t blame me when you’re crushed by these.” He flexed his arm exaggeratedly. “I’m a beast, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, linking hands with him. “Yeah, yeah. Count us down.”

Bachira’s eyes narrowed with mock intensity. “Alright… one… two…”

And before “three,” you slowly unzipped your jacket, revealing bare skin beneath.

He froze. His pupils dilated. He blinked.

“Three,” you said sweetly—and slammed his hand down like it weighed nothing.

Bachira was silent for a second. Then:

“…That was EVIL,” he gasped, clutching his heart dramatically. “You attacked my soul, you little demon!”

You snickered, reaching to zip your jacket back up.

But suddenly he was right there, hands playfully catching yours, face way too close, grin way too dangerous.

“Uh-uh-uh~ Not so fast,” he sang. “You flashed the goods, now I’m emotionally compromised. You owe me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Owe you what, exactly?”

He grinned wider. “A rematch… where the stakes are way more fun.”

You leaned in, challenging. “Like what?”

Bachira’s eyes sparkled with something wicked. “Loser has to do whatever the winner wants.”

You stared at him. He stared back—like a cat about to pounce.

“…You weren’t planning on winning, were you?” you muttered.

Bachira tilted his head, all teeth and mischief. “Nope. But I do plan on collecting.”

₊ ⊹ 𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"Soft Defeat"

“Let’s arm wrestle,” you said suddenly, plopping down across from Nagi.

He blinked at you from the couch, lazy and stretched out like a cat. “Huh? That’s so much effort.”

You gave him a look. “Scared to lose?”

His brows knit together, and he sat up with a sigh, shuffling over to the table. “I’m not gonna lose,” he muttered, taking your hand half-heartedly.

You smiled, locking fingers with him. “We’ll see.”

“One… two…”

Just before you said "three," you casually unzipped your jacket—slow and smooth.

Nagi’s gaze dropped instantly—and he froze when he saw your bare chest beneath.

“Three,” you said quickly, taking the chance to slam his hand down on the table.

There was a pause.

Nagi blinked down at your joined hands. “Eh…? I lost?”

You grinned. “You got distracted.”

He pouted, his shoulders slumping like a sulky puppy. “That’s not fair…”

You chuckled and reached to zip your jacket back up, but before you could, Nagi's hand gently covered yours.

“Wait… don’t.” His voice was quiet, and he was still pouting, eyes glued to the space you were about to cover. “You cheated, so I should get, like… a consolation prize or something.”

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

He shrugged, gaze still soft but shameless. “Leave it off for a bit. I like the view.”

You raised a brow, amused. “So now you’re awake?”

“Mm… kinda worth the effort,” he mumbled, head leaning on your shoulder, arm loosely wrapped around your waist. “Still think you cheated though…”

You smirked. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Sleep? Nah,” Nagi murmured, nuzzling into your neck. “Not tired anymore.”

₊ ⊹ 𝐑𝐞𝐨 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"Play to Win"

“You and me. Arm wrestling. Right now,” you said, challenging grin on your face.

Reo looked up from his phone, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “You’re seriously picking a fight with me, babe?”

“I’m picking a win,” you shot back, already sitting down and rolling up your sleeves.

He laughed, standing up and walking over with that usual swagger in his step. “Alright, but don’t cry when I destroy you. It'll ruin that pretty face.”

You scoffed and locked your hand with his, the air electric between you.

“One… two…”

And just before you said “three,” you casually unzipped your jacket—all the way down, revealing nothing underneath.

His eyes dropped immediately. “Oh—”

“Three,” you said sweetly, and slammed his hand down before he could recover.

Reo stared at your joined hands for a beat, then leaned back in his chair with a low whistle. “Damn. You really used that against me?”

You smirked. “I said I’d win, didn’t I?”

He leaned forward again, eyes gleaming with amusement—and something hotter. “If that’s how you play, I’m gonna start losing on purpose.”

You chuckled and reached for your zipper, but his fingers caught your wrist before you could pull it up.

“Ah, ah. No take-backs.” His voice dropped a little. “You show me that and then expect me to just move on with my day?”

You raised a brow. “You gonna whine about it?”

Reo grinned, leaning closer until his lips brushed your ear. “No. I’m gonna make you lose next… and I won’t need tricks to do it.”

Your breath hitched.

“Rematch?” you whispered.

He chuckled. “Oh, baby. Game on.”

₊ ⊹ 𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"Distraction Tactics"

“You seriously think you can beat me in arm wrestling?” Rin asked, tone flat but with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

You were already rolling up your sleeve, sliding into the seat across from him. “I know I can. Unless you're scared of losing to a girl.”

He scoffed. “You're delusional.”

“Cocky,” you said with a grin, placing your elbow on the table. “Let’s go, Itoshi.”

Rin leaned in, gripping your hand with his. His touch was firm, steady, his eyes locked with yours like he was already visualizing his win.

“One,” you said, holding the tension. “Two…”

And just before “three,” you slowly unzipped your jacket.

His gaze flickered—just for a second. But it was all you needed.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath, and Rin’s focus shattered the moment he realized.

“Three,” you said sweetly, slamming his hand down against the table.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

“You—” His voice was sharp, but his face was clearly stunned. His eyes hadn’t moved. “You cheated.”

You grinned, smug. “Don’t hate the player, Rin.”

You casually started zipping your jacket back up, but before you could even get halfway, his hand reached out and stopped you.

His fingers brushed yours as he pulled the zipper back down just an inch. “You’re not getting away with that,” he murmured, voice low, eyes locked on you. “If you’re going to distract me like that… at least let me enjoy the view a little longer.”

You swallowed, pulse skipping.

“…So, rematch?” you teased, pretending your voice wasn’t shaking just a bit.

Rin’s smirk deepened as he leaned in. “Not until I even the score—with interest.”

₊ ⊹ 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐢 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"Unholy Match"

“You. Me. Arm wrestling. Let’s go,” you said, eyes locked with his across the table.

Shidou’s grin was instant—wide, feral, and full of trouble. “Hell yeah, princess. Didn’t know you were into foreplay like this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not—ugh, whatever. Just sit down.”

He dropped into the seat like a wild animal barely chained, rolling his shoulders with a cocky glint in his eye. “Better give it your all. I don’t hold back, even for cute little brats like you.”

You scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

Your hands locked. Electricity. Chaos. Tension.

“One… two…”

And just before you said “three,” you unzipped your jacket—smooth, confident, baring everything underneath.

Shidou’s eyes snapped down, pupils blowing wide. His breath hitched.

“Three,” you said—and smashed his hand into the table.

Silence.

Then he laughed—low, guttural, absolutely delighted.

“You dirty little minx,” he purred, tongue running across his teeth. “That was so fucking hot, I think I’m in love.”

You tried to zip your jacket back up, but his hand flew across the table, gripping your wrist tight.

“Nuh-uh. You started this. You deal with the consequences.”

You raised a brow. “And what—exactly—are the consequences?”

He stood slowly, walking around the table, eyes dark and hungry. “I lose the match, but I win the game. You knew what you were doing.”

Your breath caught as he leaned down beside you, voice dropping to a whisper.

“You flash your tits mid-match and think I’ll just walk away? Sweetheart… now I’m riled up.”

You bit your lip. “What are you gonna do about it?”

That grin returned—sinister, wild, unstoppable.

“Oh, I’m gonna ruin you. Not here, though.” He paused, hand on your shoulder. “I like to take my time with dessert.”

₊ ⊹ 𝐎𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐄𝐢𝐭𝐚 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"No Point Holding Back"

“Let’s arm wrestle,” you said, dropping into the chair across from him.

Otoya glanced up from his phone, expression unreadable. “Random.”

You leaned forward, challenging. “Scared I’ll win?”

He sighed, setting the phone down. “No. Just doesn’t sound fun.”

“Then make it fun,” you smirked.

He gave a slow blink, then moved to the table without a word. No theatrics. Just calm, composed, quietly dangerous. His hand met yours—cool, firm grip.

“One… two…”

You unzipped your jacket slowly before you said it—nothing underneath.

“Three,” you whispered, slamming his hand down before he could react.

He looked at your hands, then at your bare chest.

Then he leaned back, dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“…That’s cheap,” he said calmly. “But effective.”

You grinned, starting to zip your jacket back up. “Still counts.”

His hand reached out, gently but deliberately stopping yours.

“I didn’t say I minded.”

You blinked. “Oh?”

He leaned in, voice low, expression flat but his words anything but innocent. “If you wanted me to look, you could’ve just said so. No need to play games.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Maybe I like playing.”

His lips barely curved. Not a smile—just a twitch of amusement. “Then play with me instead.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was.

“You weren’t planning on winning, were you?” you asked.

He tilted his head, gaze flicking to your chest, then back to your eyes.

“No,” he said bluntly. “But I was planning on undressing you. You just beat me to it.

₊ ⊹ 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐮 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐨 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"Confidence Is a Weapon"

“Wanna arm wrestle?” you asked, sliding into the seat across from him with a glint in your eye.

Karasu didn’t even look surprised. He just smirked and leaned back in his chair, stretching lazily. “You sure you wanna lose in front of me like that?”

You raised a brow. “You talk a lot for someone who’s about to eat dirt.”

He leaned in, elbows on the table now, that annoyingly attractive grin curling on his lips. “Bold of you to assume I’ll be focused enough to play fair.”

You just grinned and offered your hand. “Scared?”

Karasu’s eyes narrowed slightly, that smug look deepening. “You wish.”

You locked hands, tension building in the air.

“One… two…”

You unzipped your jacket before saying “three,” slow, smooth—and very much bare underneath.

Karasu’s eyes dropped immediately.

“Three,” you said quickly, and slammed his hand down.

His jaw dropped slightly. “Oh, wow.”

You smiled sweetly. “Oops.”

He didn’t look mad. In fact, he leaned back, laughing under his breath. “You really pulled that card, huh?”

You reached to zip your jacket up, but his hand shot out, stopping you.

“Nah, nah. Don’t ruin it. I think I deserve to enjoy the full effect since you cheated.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please. You’re just salty.”

He chuckled, leaning in again, voice dropping to a silky murmur. “No, I’m impressed. That was a real Karasu move, actually.”

You raised a brow. “So you’re turned on and proud?”

He tilted his head, smirk sharp as ever. “You just made it really hard to focus… So now, I’m gonna return the favor.”

You blinked. “How—”

“Next game,” he said, voice low and smug. “Loser loses clothes. Hope you’ve got more tricks… ‘cause I’m definitely playing to win now.”

---(dang gang only 10 images)--

₊ ⊹ 𝐒𝐚𝐞 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 ⊹ ₊

⋆. 𐙚˚-"Chill King"

“Let’s arm wrestle,” you said, casually leaning against the table, eyes gleaming with challenge.

Sae didn’t even glance up from his phone. “Huh? Don’t waste my time.”

You smirked. “What, you too scared to lose to me?”

He slowly looked up, that signature smirk creeping onto his face. “Scared? I just don’t see the point. But fine, if you want to be embarrassed, I’ll oblige.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a pointed look. “You sure you’re not just scared?”

Sae sighed, setting the phone down with perfect precision. “If I lose, I lose. You can say whatever you want.”

He moved to sit across from you, completely unbothered, a man who knew exactly how to control the room. His hand met yours with a firm grip, eyes locking onto yours.

“One… two…”

Before you could say “three,” you unzipped your jacket with casual ease, revealing nothing underneath.

Sae’s eyes flicked down for just a moment, but his face didn’t change. He didn’t look flustered or shocked—just a quiet, calculating gaze that made your heart skip a beat.

“Three,” you said, slamming his hand down on the table with ease.

Sae blinked, finally breaking his cool composure with a small chuckle.

“Well, that was unexpected. But still… I wasn’t trying.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t trying?”

He leaned back in his chair, voice smooth as always. “I’m not going to win with you cheating. That’s boring.”

You smirked, reaching to zip your jacket back up, but his hand intercepted yours, stopping you.

“Leave it off,” he said simply, voice low. “You’re making it harder to focus, and I’m not in the mood to play anymore.”

You stared at him, taken aback by how casually he demanded you stay like that. “And if I don’t?”

Sae tilted his head, expression still cool, but the sharpness in his eyes made it clear: he wasn’t asking.

“You’ll regret it,” he muttered. “I’m not in the mood for games today, but I’ll definitely make it interesting later.”

He gave a casual smile, like it was just another Tuesday, and you knew he wasn’t bluffing.

[https-lvesick]

( 지성 ) ── college boyfriend headcanons!

content . . 𝜗𝜚 fem!reader, smut, fingering, public sex, creampie

lola’s notes .: it wasn’t supposed to be a smut headcanon, but i can’t help myself by nct 127. i swear i’ll bring more fluff fics so you won’t think i’m a horny dog <3

college boyfriend!jisung isn’t just your boyfriend — he’s also your roommate. when you first moved in together, he was painfully shy, barely able to speak without blushing. it took two months for him to relax around you, but once he realized he was in love, he wasted no time showing you how much you meant to him.

college boyfriend!jisung who constantly goofs off during lectures, making you scold him every single time. but it’s not his fault! the professor is so boring, how could he possibly pay attention?

college boyfriend!jisung, affectionately known as your personal puppy. the sweet boy who’s always trailing after you around campus, carrying your books, your bag, or anything else you need — always ready with your favorite snack or drink in hand.

college boyfriend!jisung who has a habit of procrastinating his projects, pushing deadlines dangerously close until you step in to help. of course, this means you end up falling behind on your work while helping him scramble to finish his.

college boyfriend!jisung who’s surprisingly popular. not a day goes by without some random girl trying to flirt with him. but he always rejects them with polite kindness — even the ones who don’t deserve it — and makes it clear: he’s yours.

college boyfriend!jisung who loves to play innocent even when his fingers are deep inside your dripping cunt, teasing you under the desk during a lecture. he doesn’t care if you’re in class — as long as you’re relaxed and having fun, he’s satisfied.

college boyfriend!jisung who begs you to partner up for group projects because he’s too nervous to talk to other classmates, using his best puppy-dog eyes until you give in.

college boyfriend!jisung who’s always down to skip morning classes just to stay in bed a little longer — whether it’s for lazy, sweet snuggles or slow, passionate morning sex that turns an ordinary day into something colorful and unforgettable.

college boyfriend!jisung, the shy, silly boy everyone assumes is too innocent for anything risqué. some classmates even joke that he might still be a virgin who doesn’t know how to kiss his girlfriend properly — despite how undeniably attractive he is. if only they knew what happens behind closed doors.

college boyfriend!jisung who couldn’t resist you before class, emptying himself inside you until your legs wobbled and his cum dripped down your thighs — leaving you to navigate the rest of the day with a secret only the two of you shared.

college boyfriend!jisung who’s absolutely certain you’re the love of his life. with your graduation approaching, he’s been secretly, nervously debating whether to propose. his heart races at the thought of slipping a ring on your finger — because all he really wants is to spend forever with you.

did you enjoy your reading? why don’t reblog, like or leave a comment? this way i know you liked what i wrote and surely will keep up with the good content! 𖹭 masterlist

🏷 @jungaji @spacejip @lyvhie @sinisxtea @jirsungs

[meinii]

“spoiled princess”

summary: you’re on a night out with Sylus, but your heels are hurting you. he might have to carry his spoiled princess home ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

content: fluff, use of nicknames (princess)

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

the night had been dazzling—glimmering chandeliers, the murmur of refined voices, and the weight of luxury pressing into every moment. you had dressed for the occasion, slipping into the red dress Sylus had bought you, its fabric hugging you perfectly, its deep color a striking contrast against your skin. the heels—elegant, high, and admittedly a little unforgiving—had added to the look, elongating your legs and giving you an air of effortless grace

Sylus had looked at you like you were the only thing worth seeing in that grand hall. his red eyes, intense and unwavering, had softened only for you. others feared him—respected him, but with you, he was different.

the evening had gone smoothly. Sylus had dominated the bidding, securing whatever he set his sights on with a calm authority that left no room for opposition. you had stood beside him, poised and lovely, feeling the weight of eyes on you—some curious, some envious. but none of it had mattered. the only gaze that had ever held your attention was his.

now, as the two of you stepped out of the grand venue and onto the quiet streets, reality set in.

the moment you took your first step away from the marble flooring and onto the uneven pavement, a sharp, aching pain radiated through your feet

you winced

immediately, Sylus turned, his sharp gaze scanning you in an instant. “what’s wrong?” his voice was soft—soft in the way only you ever got to hear it

you gave him a sheepish smile “my feet hurt”

his brows furrowed “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

you sighed, rolling your shoulders “because I wanted to look good for you”

something in his expression shifted, a quiet fondness settling there. he stepped closer, and before you could even react, he was bending down, effortlessly scooping you up into his arms

a surprised laugh left your lips as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck “Sylus!”

“I’m not letting you walk another step” he murmured, adjusting his grip so you were securely pressed against his chest. his scent—something rich and clean, with a hint of warmth only he carried—enveloped you.

“this is embarrassing” you muttered, though you made no move to get down

he arched a brow, a small smirk playing at his lips “you didn’t find it embarrassing when I was bidding millions in front of a room full of people, but this is what gets to you?”

you huffed, burying your face against his shoulder “that’s different”

his chuckle was deep, a vibration you felt against your body “mmh. I think you just like being spoiled, princess”

you lifted your head to glare at him, but the effect was ruined by the soft smile tugging at your lips “and whose fault is that?”

his smirk widened “mine. and I have no regrets.”

with effortless strides, he carried you down the quiet streets, the city lights casting a warm glow over the two of you. there was something oddly intimate about it—the world around you so vast, yet in that moment, it felt like it belonged to just you two.

you traced lazy circles on his shoulder, your voice quieter now “you know, you really don’t have to do all this”

Sylus glanced down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before softening “of course I do”

you tilted your head “why?”

he stopped walking for a second, just enough to shift you in his arms and hold you closer. his red eyes, so often cold and intimidating to others, were warm now—filled with something deeper, something unspoken

“because I love you” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world

your breath hitched. even after all this time, the way he said it—so sure, so unwavering—still made your heart stumble

a slow smile spread across your lips. “I love you too, you know”

he resumed walking, his grip on you firm yet gentle “I know.”

by the time you reached his home—your home—the ache in your feet was long forgotten, replaced instead by the warmth of his presence, by the steady heartbeat beneath your palm

Sylus carried you all the way inside, straight to the bedroom, where he carefully set you down onto the bed. before you could protest, he knelt down, his fingers reaching for the straps of your heels. his hands were always so sure, so capable, and yet, as he removed your shoes, his touch was nothing but tender

you watched him in silence, something tight settling in your chest

once your feet were bare, he stood, his gaze flickering back up to yours “better?”

you nodded, but before he could pull away, you reached for him, tugging him down onto the bed beside you. he didn’t resist, allowing himself to be pulled close until your foreheads nearly touched.

he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin and with that, the night faded into something softer, something quieter

the world outside didn’t matter—because in the safety of his arms, you had already found home.

[violetseaslug]

HEAR ME OUT suupperrr famous rockstar semi x really girly fem reader

" all i ever wanna say is are you mine? "

⊹⁠˚₊ ⤷ pairing: se-mi x fem!reader // wc: 1k

⊹⁠˚₊ ⤷ my masterlist

──────

brief a/n: i wrote this in the middle of a uni lecture im sorry to the girl who was sitting behind me </3

cw/tw: reallyyyyy flirty/teasing se-mi, the reader is incredibly oblivious

synopsis: se-mi prepares for the final tour of her concert, the reader is there for funsies idk. but se-mi has a crushhhhh.. (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

──────

The last thing you expected when stepping into se-mi’s world was for the media to assume you were dating her.

One accidental viral photo of the famous rockstar leaning a little too close—her signature smirk aimed right at you—and suddenly, the internet had declared you her newest lover.

The problem? se-mi wasn’t exactly denying it.

“Should I kiss you, or do you just like to torture yourself?” se-mi teased, leaning against the vanity in her dressing room, watching you through the mirror.

You had come here for a simple explanation, a chance to clear your name before the media frenzy spiralled further out of control. But with se-mi, nothing was ever simple.

“I— I just think maybe we should say something,” you stammered, resisting the urge to fidget under her intense gaze.

“People are going crazy over this. Shouldn’t we tell them it’s a misunderstanding?”

Se-mi hummed thoughtfully, pushing herself off the counter and sauntering toward you. “Hmm… I could do that,” she mused. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Your breath hitched as she stopped just inches away, her presence overwhelming.

“This is fun for you?” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way her eyes flickered down ever so briefly before she grinned.

"of course it is,” she said smoothly. “You really have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Your brow furrowed and you tilted your head in confusion.

Se-mi’s fingers traced along the edge of your pastel-colored skirt before tugging lightly at the fabric. “You show up looking this cute, all soft and sweet, and I’m supposed to focus on my concert? So unfair.”

You had always been undeniably feminine—delicate lace trims, soft pinks, flowing skirts, and perfectly styled hair. You took pride in your appearance, always making sure your perfume was light and floral, your nails pristine and polished. The contrast between you and Se-mi’s edgy, dark aesthetic was almost comical, yet it only seemed to fuel her amusement. Your wardrobe alone was enough to make her tease you endlessly, calling you her ‘princess’ whenever she got the chance.

Heat bloomed on your cheeks, and you turned away, clutching your purse closer like it would shield you. “That’s not— You’re ridiculous.”

She chuckled, taking your chin between two fingers and tilting your face back to her. “youre really cute, y’know. Should I tease you more or be nice?” She leaned in, her lips a breath away from your ear. “Actually… nevermind. I like watching you squirm.”

Your heartbeat hammered in your chest, and you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or something much worse—something thrilling.

Taking advantage of your dazed state, Se-mi moved behind you, placing her hands on your shoulders as she peered at your reflection in the mirror. “Hmm,” she mused. “Since you’re here, you might as well help me get ready.”

Before you could protest, she grabbed a delicate pearl necklace from the vanity and handed it to you, turning around and sweeping her hair over one shoulder. “Be a sweetheart and put it on for me?”

Your fingers fumbled slightly as you reached up, the warmth of her skin under your touch making it impossible to focus. As you clasped the necklace, she turned her head slightly, her lips just barely grazing your knuckles.

You froze.

Se-mi’s gaze flicked up to meet yours in the mirror, a lazy smirk curling on her lips.

“You keep looking at my lips through the mirror.” she murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

You let go of the necklace like it burned you, stepping back quickly. “Y-You’re impossible.”

She laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder before turning to face you fully. “You love it.”

And the worst part was… maybe she was right.

____________________________________

Later, after Se-mi finished getting ready, you found yourself sitting in her dressing room as she picked up a sleek black guitar, idly strumming a few notes. The melody was effortless, her fingers moving with practiced ease over the strings.

You weren’t sure when you started staring, but you definitely were.

Se-mi caught your gaze and smirked without missing a beat. “If you like my hands so much, you could just ask me to touch you, sweetheart.”

Your mouth opened, then closed, heat creeping up your neck. “I wasn’t— I mean—”

She laughed, setting the guitar down and leaning forward, elbows on her knees as she peered at you with amusement. “You’re so easy to tease.”

Before you could argue, she suddenly patted her lap. “Come here.”

You blinked. “What?”

She gestured again, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “Sit. I need to adjust my tuning, and you’re the perfect armrest.”

You hesitated, but the expectant look in her eyes made it clear—she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Reluctantly, you sat, smoothing down the ruffles of your soft skirt as you felt her arms subtly tighten around your waist while she positioned the guitar again.

“You fit so perfectly," she murmured. "Maybe I should make this a habit—having you right here, all soft and sweet just for me." she murmured. Se-mi chuckled after realizing how forward her words were, but the smug look never left her face.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her breath tickled your neck. “I can sit somewhere else, you know.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” she shot back, fingers gliding over the strings effortlessly.

She kept strumming idly, her voice dropping lower. “You’re so easy to fluster, you know that? I could say anything right now, and you’d probably melt.”

“I wouldn’t.” you mumbled, but your burning face betrayed you.

Se Mi hummed, smirking. “Oh? So if I leaned in right now… whispered in your ear about how pretty you look, how sweet you must taste… if I told you how much I love seeing you like this—all soft, delicate, pliant—just waiting for me to ruin you…” her fingers ghosted along your wrist, tracing slow, lazy patterns, “...you wouldn’t be trembling?”

Your breath caught. She leaned in, lips dangerously close to your skin.

“You’re holding your breath,” she teased, her voice silk-smooth. “Are you that affected, sweetheart? You cant even speak.”

You exhaled shakily, your whole body burning. “se-mi—”

She chuckled, finally pulling away. “Adorable.”

The intimate moment was suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door.

Se-mi sighed dramatically but didn’t move. “Come in, if you must.”

Minsu peeked inside, raising an eyebrow at the scene before them—Se-mi lazily holding her guitar, you sitting in her lap, her arm still draped around you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“…Am I interrupting something?” he asked, amused.

Se-mi smirked. “Oh, not at all.”

You immediately scrambled to get up, but Se-mi held you firm for a second longer before letting you go, laughing softly as you avoided eye contact.

As the bandmate left, she turned back to you, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So jumpy. Should we play a game to loosen you up?”

You eyed her warily. “What kind of game?”

“A staring contest.” Her grin widened. “Loser grants the winner a favour.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re awfully confident.”

“Of course.” She leaned in, her nose nearly touching yours. “You can barely last five seconds without looking away.”

Determined, you held her gaze. Seconds passed, and despite your best efforts, your face grew hotter under her unwavering smirk.

"You know, if you keep looking at me like that, I might just have to kiss you… and I don’t think you’d stop me."

You lost.

Se-mi tapped her chin, pretending to think. “Hmm. What favour should I ask for?”

“…Just get it over with.”

Her eyes gleamed. “Kiss me.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

She tilted her head. “Unless you’re too shy? I can always think of something else.”

You knew she was enjoying this far too much—but the question remained. Were you really going to back down?

Just as you instinctively leaned in—whether from the moment or the sheer gravity of her presence—you froze. Se-mi grinned, her lips hovering just inches from yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“Were you expecting something, princess?” she teased, voice barely above a whisper.

Your pulse jumped, and you pulled back quickly, flustered. “I-I wasn’t—”

Se-mi chuckled, tilting her head. “Cute.”

And just like that, she had won—again.

[cece693]

I Don't Need A Gentleman

pairing: edward cullen x gender neutral reader tags: edward is old fashioned and kinda a prude, the reader is not, reader doesn't want vanilla sex anymore, alice and rosalie are cool sister in laws

You lounge on the massive, cream-colored couch in the Cullens’ living room, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone as Alice and Rosalie flip through a stack of fashion magazines. It’s one of those rare, lazy evenings—no imminent threats, no pressing vampire drama—just the family scattered around the house doing their own thing. Alice bumps your foot with hers. “You’re weirdly quiet today. Seriously, what’s up?”

You look up, tapping the phone against your knee. “It’s kind of about Edward.”

Rosalie arches a perfectly groomed brow. “What did our golden boy do now?”

Your cheeks—if they still could—might blush. “He didn’t really do anything wrong, exactly. It’s just…” You pause, gathering your thoughts. Even though you’ve been married to Edward for a while, it can still be tough to put some things into words. “He’s super considerate, and I adore that about him. But sometimes—okay, a lot of times—I just wish he’d show a little more…passion? Fire?”

Alice makes a sympathetic face, setting her magazine aside. “He can be a bit old-school, yeah. He has that ‘eternally seventeen’ gentleman thing down to a T.”

“Tell me about it,” you huff. “I’m a vampire, too! I mean, I’m not exactly made of glass. But he keeps treating me like I’m this delicate flower that might crumble if the wind blows too hard. I swear, sometimes our kisses feel like little pecks—like he’s worried I’ll spontaneously combust if he lingers longer than three seconds.”

Rosalie leans back, crossing her arms. “Look, Edward’s always been overly cautious. It’s one of his most annoying…okay, fine, endearing qualities. But you can’t blame him for wanting to protect you. He’s basically built that way.”

You sit up straighter, pushing your hair out of your face. “Totally. I get it. I love how he’s protective, and, well, a total gentleman. But I need more of that oomph. Y’know, that feeling where you just can’t keep your hands off each other.”

Alice snorts a laugh. “I never thought I’d hear you say ‘oomph.’ You should definitely say that to Edward’s face. He’d probably blush so hard, if vampires could blush.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “But how do I bring it up without hurting his feelings? He’s so sensitive. The moment he thinks he’s made me even slightly uncomfortable, he clams up.”

Rosalie sets the magazine aside with a little thump. “You’re married. He can handle the conversation. Trust me, you should be honest about it. Being in love for, what, decades? That means talking about the hard stuff, or the passionate stuff.” She smirks at that last part.

Alice nods enthusiastically, tucking her legs up beneath her. “The best way is just to be straightforward. Tell him how you feel without making it sound like he’s doing something wrong. Emphasize that you love his old-fashioned side—it’s part of why you married him, right? But also make it crystal clear that you want him to dial up the heat. You’re a vampire, for crying out loud, not some breakable human.”

You exhale, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “You guys are right. I’m probably overthinking it. I’m worried he’ll take it the wrong way, but I can’t just keep ignoring how frustrated I am.”

“Exactly.” Alice taps your knee again. “He’ll listen, especially if you remind him that you still love all the things that make him Edward. He just needs to hear that you want him to trust your strength, too.”

Rosalie stands, stretching with the fluidity of a cat. “And if that doesn’t work, just throw him up against a wall somewhere. That’ll get the point across.”

Alice gasps in mock horror. “Rosalie Hale! That’s your brother you’re talking about.”

She smirks. “Hey, I’m just saying, sometimes subtlety isn’t the answer.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Let me try talking first before I start tossing him around.”

Alice and Rosalie share amused glances as you stand, giving a quick wave. “Thanks for the advice, seriously.”

“Anytime,” Alice sings out.

“Go get ’em,” Rosalie adds, winking.

You head up the stairs to find Edward, heart fluttering in that familiar way only he can cause, despite both of you being, well, undead. He’s in his usual spot in the family’s library, flipping through a thick novel—something old and fancy, undoubtedly. The moment he senses you, he glances up with a small smile, eyes full of that unwavering devotion.

“Hey,” you say, crossing the room until you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Got a minute to talk?”

“Of course,” Edward responds softly, setting the book aside. He tilts his head, concern flickering in those golden eyes. “Is everything all right?”

“It is,” you reassure him, settling in beside him on the velvet couch. You can still hear Alice’s and Rosalie’s voices drifting faintly from downstairs, but you focus on Edward. “I just wanted to share something that’s been on my mind, and it’s really important to me.”

He nods earnestly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Taking a breath, you gently place your hand over his. “So, we’ve been together for a long time. We’re married, and I’m a vampire—just like you, right? But sometimes I feel like you’re handling me with kid gloves. I love your gentlemanly side, and I’d never want you to completely lose that. But I want us to be able to express our love passionately, without you worrying so much that I’ll break.”

Edward’s gaze drops to your entwined hands. “I—I see,” he says quietly. “I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t my equal. It’s just…I can’t shake the habit of worrying you might be hurt or regret something if I let go too much. Even though you’re stronger than any human I once knew, it’s hard to override decades of caution.”

Leaning in, you brush a gentle kiss against his cheek. “I know. And I respect how deeply you care. But hey, my strength is legit.” You grin, flexing half-jokingly. “I promise, I can handle more. And if something’s too much, I’ll tell you.”

Edward’s lips curve into a small smile. “Thank you for being honest with me. I guess I needed a reminder that I’m not the only one in this relationship who has a say—especially when it comes to showing affection.”

Your heart (metaphorically) flutters at the genuine warmth in his voice. “Exactly. I love being with you, and I don’t want you to hold back. We can figure out the balance, you know, do the old-fashioned courting stuff, but also, I don’t know…maybe occasionally break the furniture?”

His eyes widen for half a second in surprise, then he laughs, the sound soft and musical. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he teases, sliding a hand around your waist to pull you closer. This time, when you tilt your head up for a kiss, you feel him lean in just a bit more—a tiny, tangible shift. His lips linger, his cool hand splaying across your back. The moment stretches on until you both draw away, contented smiles on your faces.

“That,” you whisper, thumb brushing against his jaw, “was exactly what I’ve been missing.”

Edward’s eyes shine with affection. “Then I’ll make sure you never miss it again.”

Downstairs, you can practically hear Alice’s “Yes!” whispered under her breath, and you know Rosalie is grinning in that smug way that says, “Told you so.” It makes you laugh softly. But that’s the beauty of this big, unconventional vampire family.

Edward gently presses his forehead against yours. Neither of you needs to breathe, but the moment feels like a breath of fresh air anyway. Old-fashioned or not, he’s all yours—and he’s finally letting you show him that you’re every bit the strong partner he deserves. And judging by the heat in his eyes, this is just the beginning.

[saraaisfree]

Colors of Us (Kwon Ji-Yong)

pairing: Kwon Ji-Yong x reader

category: fluff, slight angst if you squint

word count: 922

(inspired by this gorgeous hairstyle from 2022)

The days since your boyfriend returned from the military had settled into a familiar rhythm. You’d wake up late, wrapped in each other’s warmth, make a lazy breakfast, and talk about your plans for the day. Then, after work, you’d return home, cuddle on the couch, and fall asleep together.

It was peaceful. It was simple.

It was nothing like the whirlwind life you used to share.

Back then, the “rockstar” era of G-Dragon was in full swing—the partying never seemed to end, the tour schedule was relentless, and the constant travel blurred the days together. You watched how it drained him, how the weight of being a global icon never seemed to leave his shoulders. You did everything you could to support him, but sometimes, even you weren’t sure if it was enough.

Then, after his military service, everything changed.

When Ji-Yong came back, he wasn’t G-Dragon anymore. He was Kwon Ji-Yong—the boy you had fallen in love with, stripped of the fame, the cameras, and the noise. At first, he barely left your shared apartment, retreating into himself for months. He was quiet, hesitant, afraid of stepping back into a world that had moved on without him.

But now, three years later, things were starting to look up. A new BIGBANG song, Still Life, was about to be released, and you could see the spark returning to his eyes. It wasn’t just about making music—it was about reclaiming a part of himself.

And that’s how you found yourself standing in your tiny bathroom, bowls of vibrant hair dye scattered across the counter, preparing to give your boyfriend a brand-new look.

Ji-Yong leaned against the sink, watching as you mixed the first batch. His platinum blonde hair, still damp from washing, hung loosely over his forehead. The sight made you nostalgic—he had always loved experimenting with colors, but this time, it felt different. This time, it was a fresh start.

“So, what color should we do first?” you asked, turning to him with a grin.

He smirked, tilting his head in thought. “Whichever one you want, love. I trust you understand my vision, so just go crazy.”

“Dangerous words, Kwon Ji-Yong,” you teased, dipping a brush into a striking shade of electric blue. “I might just give you rainbow hair.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

And with that, you got to work.

The bathroom quickly became a chaotic mess—splashes of dye on the counter, smudges of color on your arms, and the occasional curse when Ji-Yong playfully nudged you mid-stroke.

“Hold still!” you scolded, carefully sectioning his hair. “Do you want this to turn out patchy?”

“You’re just enjoying bossing me around,” he teased, though he obediently stayed still.

Twenty minutes later, the masterpiece was complete. His hair, once a blank canvas, was now a blend of vibrant hues—red, blue, green, and purple melting into each other like an abstract painting. Ji-Yong blinked at his reflection in the mirror, running a hand through the strands.

“Sooo, what do you think?” you asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

A slow smile spread across his face. “It’s perfect. You know me too well.” He turned to press a quick kiss to your lips.

You gasped. “Noo, you got hair dye on my face! Now I’m going to be stained green.”

Ji-Yong laughed, completely unapologetic. “It suits you.”

You huffed, rubbing your cheek dramatically. But before you could complain further, he hesitated, glancing at the leftover dye on the counter.

“Actually, I was wondering… Since we have extra bleach and colors… would you like to match with me?”

You froze. The idea was tempting—but then reality set in.

“Ji, I have an office job,” you reminded him. “I don’t think my boss will be thrilled if I show up looking like a human highlighter.”

He pouted. “Just this once? For old times’ sake?”

Damn him. Damn those pleading eyes.

You sighed, shaking your head with a fond smile. “Fine. But if I get fired, you owe me a lifetime supply of ice cream.”

His grin was immediate. “Deal.”

And so, an hour later, your own hair had undergone a similar transformation. Bright streaks of pink, blue, and purple now wove through your strands, blending into a colorful masterpiece that mirrored Ji-Yong’s.

“Now we really look like a power couple,” he mused, admiring your reflection in the mirror.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “We’ve always been a power couple.”

The two of you spent the next few minutes styling each other’s hair—him carefully tousling yours, you playfully running your fingers through his. Every so often, he’d steal a quick kiss, claiming it was “part of the process.”

When you finally finished, you snapped a picture together—Ji-Yong pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as you smiled at the camera.

You posted it with the caption:

“Some things never change, huh?”

Tomorrow, you’d deal with your boss’s reaction. Tomorrow, you’d worry about professionalism and consequences.

But tonight, you were just happy to fall asleep in your boyfriend’s arms, tangled together in the warmth of familiarity, in a love that had endured years of chaos and change.

Because some things really never did change.

[ha-rinrin]

Drunk Confessions

summary: Your best friend Jinx convinces you to accompany her to a frat party—what’s the worst that could happen?

word count: 8.8k

pairing: Jinx x fem!reader

warning: smut

note: I wrote this at 2am if its bad im deeply sorry my eyes were closing as I wrote it

masterlist

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the window of Jinx’s dorm, casting a cozy glow over the beautifully chaotic space. Posters of her favorite bands were plastered everywhere, and her desk? A vibrant mess of colorful sketches and paint tubes spilling over. The air carried a faintly sweet scent, probably from whatever concoction she’d been whipping up in the kitchen. You and Jinx lounged on her bed, tangled in a heap of blankets and pillows, just enjoying the rare calm of a lazy afternoon. Her body so close to yours made you nervous, the palm of your hands becoming sweaty.

“You’re coming with me, right?” Jinx asked, her eyes practically sparkling as she scrolled through her phone, on a mission to find every detail about the frat party that night, who was going, where it was, she was going as far as to search if there was a specific dress code and “how to dress for a party” on wikihow. She leaned in closer, her blue hair brushing against your arm, sending a little jolt of energy through you.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I don’t know, Jinx. Frat parties can get pretty…  you know, overwhelming. What if things get out of control, you know that I'm not an extrovert and what if I end up making things awkward?. what if I end up in a corner and everyone thinks “look at this weirdo standing by the wall”, or-?”

She looked at you as if she were one word away from calling a psych ward. “Okay, now stop right there. Where’s your university student spirit?” she asked, her tone playful but firm. She always had this unique way of calming you down, even if it was a little unconventional. “Come on!” she urged, throwing her hands up dramatically, as if you were being ridiculous. “I’m not asking you to jump into a pit of fire! It’s just a party—music, dancing, and a whole lot of fun! Plus, it wouldn’t be the same without my best friend there.”

Even when you were freaking out, you couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. “You know  I’m not exactly the ‘party’ type. I’m way more into our movie marathons and snack fests. Those are fun too,” you said with a sweet smile.

But this will be different! Just picture it—it’ll be just like in the movies! Music pumping, everyone dancing like nobody’s watching, and us stirring up some delightful chaos as always!” Jinx grinned, leaning in, her eyes wide with mischief. “Come on, it’ll be a blast! We’re a team, remember? We can handle anything together!”

“Delightful chaos? Is that your new way of saying ‘let’s get kicked out’?” you teased, raising an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk.

“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, biting her lip to stifle a laugh. “But think about it! This is our chance to break out of our comfort zones. Besides, I can’t do this without my ride-or-die! We’ll stick together, and I’ll keep you safe. Mostly.”

You rolled your eyes, your heart warming at her enthusiasm. “I don’t know, Jinx. What if it gets too wild? I’m not exactly a social butterfly here, you are the one who takes that role.”

“That’s exactly why I need you!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “You balance me out! And who knows? You might actually have fun! Plus, what if I end up in a food fight again? I’ll need you there to help me dodge flying pizza!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that ridiculous image. “That was one time!”

“Exactly! And it was the best night ever!” Jinx said, her enthusiasm infectious. “You’ll totally regret it if you don’t come. Just think of all the crazy stories we could tell! Pretty please? I really want my best friend by my side!”

You looked at her, taking in how sincere she was, hope shining in her eyes. “Fine, but only if you promise not to get us kicked out and staying by my side.”

“Deal!” she exclaimed, her grin stretching wide as she pulled you into a quick hug that felt warm and comforting. “You’re not going to regret this! Now, let’s get ready!”

As she jumped off the bed and started rifling through her closet, you couldn’t help but smile at her infectious excitement. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone wouldn’t be so bad, especially with Jinx by your side.

As you both stepped out of her dorm, the energy crackled between you. Jinx practically skipped, her excitement infectious as she led you down the bustling streets toward the frat house. The music thumped louder with each step, pulling you closer to the chaotic glow of string lights, neon paint, and a wild swarm of partygoers.

“Jinx! Over here!” called a girl with a bright green streak in her hair, a friend of Jinx’s you recognized from campus but had never spoken to before. She was surrounded by others from Jinx's circle, each one more eccentric than the last. They erupted into cheers upon seeing her, welcoming her with quick hugs and high-fives.

“Hey, you all made it!” Jinx cheered, bouncing over to them. With a proud grin, she introduced you, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you gave a nervous wave. Her friends greeted you warmly, instantly pulling you into their circle and helping you feel more at ease in the lively, unfamiliar environment.

You stood there, adjusting to the crowded atmosphere, but Jinx’s friends made it easier. They were loud and full of life, radiating the same chaotic energy that Jinx thrived on. Each one had a unique style: mismatched patterns, brightly colored hair, and bold makeup you wouldn’t expect to see in a classroom. It felt like Jinx had magnetized a group of people as wild and vibrant as she was.

“Finally dragged you out, huh?” said a tall girl with neon blue lipstick, winking as she handed you a plastic cup. “It takes a lot to get someone out of their cocoon, but Jinx is persistent.” She nudged Jinx playfully, who rolled her eyes with a grin.

“Trust me, this is a rare occurrence,” Jinx said, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “But I had to bring my best friend into the madness at least once, right?”

Her words warmed you, even though you could feel her friends’ curious gazes on you. You took a sip from the cup, feeling the buzz of Jinx’s excitement wrap around you like a blanket.

As the night went on, Jinx’s group chatted animatedly, and every so often, you caught her glancing over to check on you, her hand brushing against your arm as she leaned in to hear your responses. Each time her skin touched yours, an unmistakable spark ignited, even if it was just a fleeting connection.

As the night deepened, Jinx remained the life of the party, her laughter ringing out above the pulsing music. Each time she returned to your side, she held a new drink—colorful concoctions that seemed to amplify her energy even more.

“You have to try this one! It’s delicious!” she exclaimed while holding up a vibrant pink cocktail, her grin widening as she leaned in closer.

You took a cautious sip; the sweetness almost masked the alcohol. “Okay, this one’s not bad,” you admitted, your smile growing as you handed it back. You watched her down a good portion of it, her eyes sparkling with delight.

With each drink, Jinx became even more animated. She danced around you, tugging you along as she pulled her friends into playful conversations. The rosy hue in her cheeks deepened, and a slight slur in her words made her even more charming.

“Are you having fun?” she shouted, swaying to the beat. Her laughter bubbled up, contagious in its joy. “I mean, like, really having fun?”

“I’m getting there!” you replied, feeling the warmth of her spirit wrap around you.

As the night wore on, you noticed her friends keeping a closer eye on her, subtly guiding her back when she drifted too far into the crowd. Jinx, however, seemed blissfully unaware, caught up in her whirlwind of excitement. She had just finished another drink—a bright green one.

“Check this out!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with mischief as she took a big gulp. “This is the best!”

After downing the drink, she stumbled slightly, catching herself against your shoulder with a laugh. “Oops! I think I’m getting a little tipsy,” she admitted, her voice a mix of excitement and amusement.

“Just a little?” you teased, chuckling as you steadied her.

“This is what parties are all about, right? Just let go and have fun!” she answered.

You watched her with a mix of affection and concern as she took another drink from a passing friend, her laughter growing more exuberant with each sip. Despite her slight wobble, there was a light in her eyes that seemed to shine brighter, her joy infectious.

“Promise me you’ll stay close?” she asked, her expression earnest as she looked at you with those bright, swirling purple eyes.

“Always,” you replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly, warmth blooming in your chest at the sincerity in her gaze.

After another round, she returned to your side, clutching a neon blue drink.

“Maybe we should slow it down a bit, huh?” you suggested, attempting to steer her away from the colorful drinks.

“Slow down? Never!” she exclaimed, then leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But seriously, you’re the best. I love having you here.”

You felt your heart flutter, caught off guard by the sincerity in her gaze. “I love being here with you, too,” you replied, your voice softening as you looked into her eyes.

She smiled, the warmth of the moment hanging in the air, but instead of saying more, you both swayed gently to the music, her shoulder brushing against yours, sending little sparks up your arm.

As the party continued, Jinx’s energy ebbed and flowed. She’d lose herself in dance, twirling around before suddenly collapsing against you, breathless and giggling. “I’m definitely tipsy now,” she confessed, finally self-aware, her cheeks flushed and her smile wide. “But you’re still here.”

“Of course I am,” you assured her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. It felt natural, as if you were meant to be this close.

“Good,” she murmured, resting her head against your shoulder. The moment felt intimate, surrounded by chaos yet cocooned in your own little world.

You wanted to say something more, to bridge the gap between friendship and something deeper. But the thought of her waking up tomorrow, her mind clearer and possibly regretting this moment, held you back. Instead, you focused on the way her laughter resonated in your chest.

As she tilted her head up, her eyes gleaming under the colored lights, you noticed the slight wobble in her posture. “Hey,” she said, mischief dancing in her voice. “You’re really special, you know that? Like… you get me.”

You smiled softly, your heart racing. “Thanks, Jinx. You’re pretty special too.”

Without warning, she leaned in, her breath warm against your skin. In that fleeting moment, you felt her lips brush against yours—soft and tentative. But just as quickly, you pulled away, a wave of uncertainty washing over you. Confusion crossed her features, and you could see the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes.

“Why didn't you kiss me back?”

You could see the heaviness in her gaze, a hint of sadness creeping in.

“Jinx…” You didn't even know what to say to her, so you went for the classic and safe option. “Let’s get you some water, alright?” you said gently, trying to guide her toward the kitchen.

“I like you, okay?” she finally blurted out, her voice earnest, cutting through the noise of the party.

Your heart raced, the weight of her words hanging in the air between you. “Jinx, I—”

“Wait!” she interrupted, her eyes wide with determination. “I know it sounds crazy, but you make me feel… I don’t know, like I can just be myself.”

You took a breath, trying to process everything. “You’re really drunk right now. This isn’t the best time to have this conversation,” you said, your voice soft yet firm.

“Maybe,” she admitted, her expression shifting as she leaned closer, her breath warm against your face. “But it’s true. You get me in a way no one else does.”

The sincerity in her gaze made your chest tighten. “Jinx, I care about you. But you have to know that it’s the drinks talking right now. You might not even remember this tomorrow.”

“Who cares about tomorrow?” she shot back, frustration creeping into her tone. “Right now, I want you to know how I feel.”

You could feel the tension building, the unspoken feelings that had always lingered just beneath the surface. “It’s complicated, Jinx. I don’t want to ruin what we have,” you said, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening.

“Then don’t!” she pleaded, her voice dropping to a whisper as she stepped closer, her presence intoxicating. “Just let me have this moment. Please.”

“Jinx—,” you said, your heart pounding. “We need to get you home. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Home? What’s so great about that?” she asked, her expression faltering. “I just want to be here with you, right now.”

“Being here with you is amazing, but I care about you too much to let this go too far when you’re like this,” you said gently, trying to balance her feelings with your concern.

“Why can't you just let go for one night? We’ll deal with the aftermath in the morning,” she tried to convince you, her frustration boiling beneath the surface.

As her words settled in, you knew you had to keep her safe. “Come on, Jinx. Let’s get you home. You need water, not more drinks,” you said, guiding her gently toward the door.

With each step, you felt the weight of her lingering gaze on your back, the unspoken words hanging in the air. You knew she wouldn’t remember everything in the morning, and that was both a relief and a burden.

As you pulled her out of the chaotic house and into the cool night air, you felt her lean into you, exhaustion finally taking over. “You’re the best, you know that?” she mumbled, her voice slurred yet sincere. “I really appreciate you being here. Even if… you don’t really like me back.”

Her words stung, and you turned to face her, feeling the ache of unfulfilled possibilities. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Jinx. It’s just… complicated.”

She looked up at you, her eyes hazy yet searching. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? When I’m sober?”

You shook your head softly, trying to keep the moment light despite the heaviness in your chest. “Let’s just focus on getting you home for tonight, okay?”

She nodded, her disappointment palpable. As you walked together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you, a bond strengthened yet fraught with unspoken truths.

As you stepped into Jinx’s dorm, you immediately took action. 

“Alright, let’s get you settled,” you said, gently guiding her toward the couch. Jinx plopped down, her head drooping slightly as she leaned back against the cushions. You quickly grabbed a water bottle from her desk, unscrewing the cap and holding it up to her lips.

“Drink up,” you instructed, watching as she took small sips, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay awake.

“Thank you, you’re the best,” she mumbled, a lazy smile spreading across her face.

Once she had finished the water, you decided to help her get ready for bed. “I’ll be right back,” you said, heading toward her closet. You rummaged through her clothes until you found a pair of soft pajamas—a comfy, oversized shirt and matching shorts.

When you returned, though, you found Jinx curled up on the couch, her breathing even and soft, the energy from earlier dissipating into peaceful slumber. Your heart swelled with affection as you watched her for a moment, her colorful hair sprawled out around her like a halo.

“Guess I’m not needed after all,” you murmured to yourself, a smile tugging at your lips. But the thought of leaving her on the couch didn’t sit well with you. She needed a proper place to sleep.

With a careful determination, you knelt beside her. “Hey, Jinx,” you said gently, brushing a few stray hairs from her face. “Time to move to your bed.”

There was no response. She just shifted slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips. You took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around her and lifting her up with surprising ease. Her weight was familiar and comforting, and you could feel the warmth radiating from her as you cradled her against your chest.

“Here we go,” you whispered, navigating the small room with care. You stepped over her scattered shoes and clothes, your heart racing as you carried her toward the bed.

As you laid her down, Jinx stirred slightly but didn’t fully wake, a sleepy smile gracing her lips as she nestled deeper into the blankets. You quickly slipped the pajamas onto her, careful not to jostle her too much.

“Goodnight, Jinx,” you whispered, brushing a soft kiss against her forehead. She sighed contentedly, and for a moment, you stood there, watching her peaceful form.

Feeling a rush of warmth, you decided to settle in on the edge of her bed, the soft sheets inviting. As you sat there, your mind wandered, replaying the night’s events—the laughter, the dancing, the momentary brush of her lips against yours.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of what she had said earlier, the sincerity of her words hanging in the air. It felt like a turning point, one that you hoped tomorrow would help clarify.

Eventually, fatigue began to pull at your eyelids. You leaned back against the headboard, listening to her gentle breathing as you drifted into a light sleep, the room filled with the comforting glow of string lights. before you even knew it, you were fast asleep. 

The soft light of morning crept through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred awake, the events of the night still fresh in your mind. Glancing over at Jinx, you smiled softly at the sight of her peacefully sleeping, her colorful hair spilling across the pillows.

Careful not to wake her, you quietly slipped out of bed, stretching a little as you got to your feet. You padded over to the small bedside table, a little nightstand with a drawer that seemed to hold everything from old textbooks to stray hair ties. You opened the drawer and rummaged around until you found a bottle of aspirin.

After grabbing the bottle, you filled a glass with water from her desk, setting it gently on the nightstand next to the aspirin. You paused for a moment, glancing back at Jinx, who was still nestled under the covers, a serene expression on her face.

“Just in case you need it,” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. You tiptoed out of the room, making your way to the small kitchen area in her dorm.

Once there, you decided to make breakfast. The scent of coffee filled the air as you started brewing a fresh pot. You rummaged through her cabinets, pulling out some eggs and bread for toast. Cooking felt oddly calming, and the rhythmic motions of cracking eggs and toasting bread helped clear your mind.

As you worked, thoughts of Jinx floated through your mind—her laughter, the way she lit up the room, and the unexpected confession from the night before. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation mixed with anxiety about how she would feel in the morning.

The scent of coffee filled the air as you worked, the rhythmic motions of cracking eggs and toasting bread helping clear your mind. Suddenly, the sound of soft footsteps approached, and you turned to see Jinx walking into the kitchen, her hair tousled and her eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

She rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn as she leaned against the doorframe. “What time is it?” she mumbled, still half-lost in her dreams.

“Late enough for breakfast,” you replied, flipping a slice of toast. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

Jinx blinked a few times, her expression slowly shifting from drowsy confusion to delight. “You’re the best! I can’t believe you made breakfast. What are you cooking?”

“Just some eggs and toast,” you said, pouring her a cup of coffee and handing it to her. “Nothing fancy, but I hope it’ll help with your hangover.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she groaned, taking a sip and making a face at the taste. “Is that black coffee? You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue.”

You chuckled, leaning against the counter as you watched her. “I can always add cream and sugar if you’d like.”

She waved a hand dismissively, already turning her attention to the toast popping up from the toaster. “Nah, I’ll take it strong. What’s life without a little bitterness, right?”

“Speaking of bitterness,” you began, your voice light as you tried to gauge her mood, “how are you feeling this morning?”

Jinx leaned against the counter, a playful smirk on her lips. “Like I’ve been run over by a truck. But I’d say it was worth it for last night. You kept me from doing anything too crazy, right?”

“Just trying to look out for you,” you said, your heart racing slightly at the memory of her words from the night before. “But you were definitely having fun.”

Her smile faltered just a bit, and you could see the wheels turning in her mind. “Yeah… about that.”

You raised an eyebrow, bracing yourself for what she might say next. “What about it?”

Jinx glanced down at her coffee, biting her lip. “I kind of remember some things. Like… maybe telling you you’re special?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “You said a few things, yeah.”

“Did I embarrass myself?” she asked, looking up at you with those bright, swirling eyes, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity flickering in them.

“Not really,” you assured her, trying to keep your tone light. “You just expressed some feelings.”

She blinked, the weight of your words hanging between you. “Feelings?” she echoed softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Yeah, feelings,” you said, your heart racing as you fought the urge to say more. “But maybe we should focus on breakfast first?”

“Right, breakfast.” Jinx nodded, but you could see that her mind was still on the night before. As you both stood there, the air thick with unspoken words, you hoped she’d be ready to talk about it again soon.

You turned back to the stove, flipping the eggs with practiced ease. “So, what do you think? Scrambled or sunny-side up?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Scrambled, definitely. Can’t handle any more surprises this morning,” she replied, a hint of a smile creeping back onto her lips.

With the eggs cooking, you let the comfortable silence settle between you, stealing glances at Jinx as she took another sip of her coffee. Her gaze drifted toward the window, the sunlight illuminating the room in warm hues.

“Last night was… fun,” Jinx said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but you could hear the hint of vulnerability underneath. “I just—I hope I didn’t say anything too crazy.”

You chuckled lightly, trying to ease her worries. “You were just being you, Jinx. It was kind of nice, actually. You don’t have to worry about what you said.”

She turned to you, her eyes searching your face for reassurance. “But you know I can get a little… reckless when I drink. I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“It wasn’t awkward,” you reassured her, your heart racing again as the memory of her words flashed through your mind—the way she had looked at you, the closeness you had shared. “You just told me you think I’m special. It was sweet.”

“Sweet, huh?” Jinx replied, her lips quirking up in a teasing grin. “And what exactly does that mean? Are we talking ‘special friend’ sweet, or ‘I think you’re cute’ sweet?”

You hesitated, the weight of her gaze making it hard to form the words. “It could mean a bit of both,” you said cautiously. “But it depends on how you feel this morning.”

Her expression shifted, a mix of playfulness and genuine curiosity. “What if I told you I remembered a little more? Like… that kiss?”

You turned to face her fully, heart pounding. “You remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” she said, her tone teasing yet edged with something deeper. “I also remember how you didn’t really return it. But, uh, I’m sorry; it kinda slipped.”

You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, and your pulse quickened at her admission. “It’s not that I didn’t want to,” you stumbled over your words, scrambling for an explanation. “I just—”

“Just what?” she prompted, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Were you scared of my breath? It was probably awful.”

“No! It wasn’t that!” You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly as you caught her playful grin. “I just didn’t want to make things weird.”

“Aw, so you were thinking of my feelings,” she teased, leaning closer, her expression shifting as she tried to gauge your seriousness. “But, like, what do you think about it now? I mean, is it still weird?”

You took a deep breath, trying to navigate the sudden shift in the conversation. “I think it was a moment,” you said slowly. “And it felt… nice. But I don’t want to rush into anything. Especially since you were—”

“Drunk?” she interrupted, a bit of uncertainty creeping into her playful demeanor. “Yeah, I get that. But maybe it was a bit more than just that, you know?”

Your heart raced as you met her gaze, feeling the weight of her words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe there’s something there that we haven’t really explored yet,” she said softly, her voice losing its playful edge. “Like, between us.”

You swallowed hard, the implications hanging thick in the air. “Are you saying you want to explore it?”

Jinx hesitated, the teasing glint in her eyes dimming slightly as she shifted her weight, looking almost vulnerable. “I don’t know. I’m scared, honestly. I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

“Neither do I,” you replied earnestly, wanting to bridge the gap between you. “But if we don’t talk about it, we’ll never know.”

“True,” she said, biting her lip as she considered your words. “And you know me—I’m not great with talking about feelings. They’re just… there. And sometimes they scare me.”

“I get it,” you said, trying to offer her a reassuring smile. “Feelings can be confusing, especially with everything that happened last night.”

“Yeah, and you’d think I’d be used to it by now,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “But I guess I’m just not as brave as I pretend to be.”

You felt a surge of empathy for her, knowing how hard it could be to voice what lay beneath the surface. “It’s okay to be scared, Jinx. We can figure this out together.”

She looked at you, her expression softening. “Together sounds nice,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But, like, what does that even mean? Do we just hang out more, or…?”

“I think it means being honest with each other,” you suggested, feeling the weight of the conversation start to settle into something more hopeful. “Maybe we take things slow and see where it goes?”

“Slow, huh? You mean like taking it easy, not like a rollercoaster ride?” she replied, a teasing tone creeping back into her voice. “Because you know I’m all for the thrill, but this feels different.”

You chuckled lightly, appreciating her humor amidst the serious talk. “Exactly. No rollercoasters. Just… us. Hanging out, having fun. And if things happen, then they happen.”

“Okay, I can work with that,” Jinx said, her smile returning, though there was still a hint of apprehension in her eyes. “But what if I get too reckless again? You might end up in a weird position where you have to deal with my chaos.”

“Chaos is kind of your specialty,” you said, your heart fluttering at the thought of her quirks. “And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her laughter filled the kitchen, lightening the air between you. “You’re seriously the best. I mean, how did I get so lucky to have you around?”

You couldn’t help but grin back at her, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “I could say the same about you. You keep things interesting.”

She stepped closer, her playful demeanor shifting again as she looked into your eyes, the laughter lingering in the air between you like a sweet melody. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” you replied, your heart racing at the intensity of her gaze. “You make everything more fun. More... alive.”

A flicker of vulnerability passed through her eyes, and you could sense the shift in the atmosphere. The teasing edges of the conversation softened, replaced by something deeper, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a while now.

“Do you think,” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, “that we could… maybe try to be more than friends?”

The question hung in the air, and your heart raced in response. “I’d like that,” you said, the words spilling out before you could second-guess yourself. “I really would.”

Jinx stepped even closer, her breath warm against your skin. “Then maybe we should just go for it,” she suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief yet grounded with sincerity.

“Go for it?” you echoed, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Yeah. Like… a kiss. Just to see how it feels, you know?” she said, her voice teasing but her expression earnest.

“Okay, but if we’re doing this, I want to make sure it’s not just a spur-of-the-moment thing.” You took a step closer, feeling the space between you disappear. “I want it to mean something.”

Jinx nodded, her eyes locked onto yours, the playful edge returning just a touch. “I’m all for meaningful moments. Just don’t blame me if it ends up being a little chaotic.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

With that, Jinx leaned in, her gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again, searching for confirmation. You felt your breath hitch as the moment stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and uncharted territory.

Then, as if the world faded away, you closed the distance. Her lips brushed against yours softly, tentative at first, sending a rush of warmth through you. It was gentle yet electric, a perfect blend of sweetness and a hint of the wildness that defined Jinx.

As you kissed, it felt like everything else disappeared—the kitchen, the smell of breakfast, the morning light filtering through the curtains. It was just the two of you, suspended in a moment that felt both familiar and entirely new.

Just as you began to pull away, Jinx grabbed the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, her lips moving against yours with a newfound urgency. The softness of her kiss quickly transformed into something more passionate, igniting a fire within you that sent shivers down your spine.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat radiating from her body. Jinx responded by pressing herself against you, her hands weaving into your hair as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss even further. The world outside faded into oblivion as you lost yourselves in the moment, the taste of her lips intoxicating, each brush igniting sparks of electricity between you.

The kiss grew more fervent, each movement becoming bolder, more desperate. You felt her heart racing against your chest, mirroring your own excitement. She pulled you in, and you could feel the playful chaos she thrived on, but it was paired with a tenderness that made your heart race.

“Wow,” Jinx breathed against your lips, her eyes sparkling as she pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a teasing smile playing on her mouth. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, breathless. Your heart was pounding, and the warmth spreading through your body felt electrifying.

Jinx leaned in again, this time capturing your lips with a fierceness that made your head spin. She pressed you against the counter, her body fitting against yours perfectly, igniting every nerve ending in a way that made you forget everything but her. You could feel her smile against your mouth as she pulled you in deeper, her fingers dancing down your sides.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you asked between heated kisses, the pulse of adrenaline making your heart race even faster.

“More than okay,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry as she nipped at your lower lip, sending a jolt through you. “I’ve wanted this for a while.”

With that, the air thickened with desire, the playful banter fading as you both surrendered to the moment. Jinx's hands explored your back, pulling you even closer as you kissed her back with equal intensity. It was a dance of chaos and connection, both of you losing yourselves in the rhythm of your lips moving together.

As you kissed, you became aware of the world around you again—sounds of the eggs sizzling on the stove, the coffee still brewing, the gentle hum of life outside—but none of it mattered. It was just you and Jinx, tangled up in each other’s arms, feeling the rush of something new and thrilling.

“Wait,” you said suddenly, pulling back, breathless. “What if we burn the toast?”

Jinx laughed, a bright sound that lit up the kitchen even more than the morning sun. “Oh, right! Priorities!” She reluctantly stepped back, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “But I wouldn’t mind some toast and maybe a side of more kisses later?”

You grinned, heart still racing from both the kiss and her playful tone. “Deal. But for now, let’s save breakfast before it turns into a charred mess.”

With a shared laugh, you turned back to the stove, stealing glances at each other as the air buzzed with a new energy. You couldn’t help but feel like everything had changed in that kitchen, and you were both excited to see where this new path would lead.

The soft morning light spilled into Jinx's room, painting everything in warm hues as you snuggled under the cozy blankets. You were nestled against Jinx, who had sprawled out comfortably beside you after a chaotic yet delicious breakfast. Her hair was a wild mess, a testament to the way she rolled out of bed in her usual chaotic style, and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she looked.

With a dramatic sigh, she flopped back down, burying her head between your breasts, her voice muffled as she said, “I like this relationship benefit.”

You felt your heart race, a warm flush creeping up your cheeks. “Oh really?” you replied, your fingers gently running through her hair. “What else do you like?”

“Mmm, definitely the cuddles,” she sighed contentedly, her breath warm against your skin. “But mostly this.” She wiggled a little closer, clearly enjoying the closeness.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her, pulling her even tighter against you. “You’re just using me for cuddles, huh?”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, lifting her head to flash you a cheeky grin. “But can you blame me? You’re the best pillow ever.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed you. “A pillow? Really?”

“Yeah, the best kind—soft and warm,” she teased, leaning in to nuzzle you again. “And I can’t get enough of you right now.”

You felt a flutter in your chest at her words, heart swelling with affection. “I could get used to this,” you admitted, pulling her in closer, both of you sinking deeper into the sheets.

“Me too,” she said softly, her voice a little more serious now. “You’re like the perfect chaos to my perfectly chaotic life.”

“Perfectly chaotic, huh? I like the sound of that,” you replied, grinning at her.

Jinx giggled, but her laughter faded as she studied your face, her gaze lingering on your lips. You felt a spark of anticipation in the air, a delicious tension that made your heart race.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice low, “can I…?”

You didn’t need to answer. In one smooth motion, Jinx closed the space between you, capturing your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. The world outside faded away as you melted into the moment, your fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer.

Her lips were warm and inviting, and you felt a rush of exhilaration as the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Jinx sighed against your mouth, the sound sending shivers down your spine. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, and you could taste the remnants of breakfast lingering on her.

As you both finally pulled away, breathless and a little dazed, Jinx rested her forehead against yours, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, does this count as a benefit?”

You chuckled, still feeling the warmth of her lips on yours. “I think it counts as a pretty great benefit,” you replied, your heart swelling with joy.

“Good,” she said with a sly smile, “because I plan on taking full advantage of it.”

You laughed again, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. You lay there, lost in each other’s embrace, knowing that this—Jinx, the cuddles, the kisses—was exactly where you belonged.

You couldn't help but feel a mischievous grin spread across your face. “I might need to show you just how much I like these benefits, too,” you teased, leaning in closer.

Jinx’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her playful energy radiating off her. “Oh? I’d love to see what you have in mind,” she said, her voice dropping to that breathy tone that sent heat rushing through you.

Before you could overthink it, you leaned in, capturing her lips again. This kiss was deeper, more urgent, as if you were both trying to convey everything you felt in that moment. You pulled her closer, fingers tracing down her side as you savored the sweet taste of her.

Jinx responded eagerly, her hands threading into your hair, pulling you in as if she wanted to become one with you. You could feel the rush of passion growing between you, each kiss igniting a spark that left you both breathless.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself shifting lower, your lips trailing from her mouth down to her neck, planting soft kisses along her skin. Jinx shivered beneath your touch, her breaths coming in quick gasps

as you continued your descent, each kiss eliciting a sweet sound from her lips. You reveled in the way she reacted, her body responding eagerly to your every move.

“Wow,” she breathed, her voice filled with a mixture of surprise and delight. “You’re really good at this, aren’t you?”

You smirked against her skin, relishing the way she melted under your touch. “Just trying to show you how much I appreciate our little relationship benefits,” you replied playfully, your lips brushing against her collarbone.

“More, please,” Jinx urged, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she pulled you back for another kiss, this one even more heated than before. Her hands roamed down your back, fingers dancing over your skin, igniting a fire within you that you could hardly contain.

With renewed determination, you resumed your exploration, trailing kisses down her torso, pausing to admire her beauty. Each kiss left a lingering warmth, and you could feel her pulse quicken beneath your lips.

“Hey, don’t forget about me up here,” Jinx teased breathlessly, her playful tone mingling with the seriousness of the moment. You looked up at her, grinning at the way her cheeks flushed a deeper shade.

“Oh, I could never forget about you,” you replied, your voice low and teasing as you moved back up to capture her lips again.

She pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly, as if you were made for this. The kiss deepened once more, the world around you fading away as you lost yourselves in each other.

After a few blissful moments, you pulled away slightly, resting your forehead against hers. “I could get used to this,” you murmured, your breath mingling with hers.

Jinx’s gaze softened, and she smiled, a genuine warmth filling her eyes. “Me too. It feels… right, you know?”

You nodded, the weight of her words settling over you like a cozy blanket. “Yeah, it really does.”

With a playful smirk, you let your fingers trail down to her thighs, feeling the softness of her skin. “But I think I still have some benefits to explore,” you said, looking up at her with a teasing glint in your eye.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Jinx challenged, her voice laced with playful urgency. “Get to it!”

With a laugh, you lowered your head once more, ready to discover just how far this delightful chaos could take you both. The room was filled with soft laughter, warmth, and the promise of so many more sweet moments together.

You pressed your lips to her inner thigh, feeling the warmth radiate from her skin. Jinx gasped softly, her body responding eagerly to your touch, and you smiled against her, savoring the thrill of the moment.

“Is this what you meant by ‘benefits’?” you teased, your voice low and playful as you continued your trail of kisses.

“Definitely,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in your hair as she held you close. “But I might need a little more encouragement.”

With a playful glint in your eye, you shifted lower, planting kisses along the inside of her thigh, slowly building the anticipation. Jinx squirmed beneath you, her breath hitching as you took your time, enjoying every second of your exploration.

“You’re such a tease,” she murmured, half-laughing, half-pleading.

“Only because you love it,” you shot back, glancing up at her with a mischievous grin.

“Guilty,” she admitted, her voice a mix of sincerity and playful defiance.

Encouraged by her words, you continued your journey, your kisses trailing ever closer, teasingly brushing against the edge of her shorts. Jinx’s breaths quickened, the tension in the air crackling with electricity.

“Please,” she whispered, her eyes pleading, and that single word ignited a fire within you. You knew exactly what she wanted, and you were more than willing to give it to her.

You shifted your attention, pressing a soft kiss on the waistband of her shorts before slowly pulling back to look into her eyes. “Are you sure?” you asked, wanting to make sure she was comfortable.

“More than sure,” she replied, her voice firm yet filled with an undeniable sweetness.

With a smile of affirmation you discarded her shorts along with her underwear, you pressed your lips against her clit, and Jinx gasped, her body arching towards you as you continued your teasing exploration, sucking, twirling her bundle of nerves with your tongue. Each kiss sent shivers through her, and you felt empowered by the effect you had on her.

“God, you’re incredible,” she breathed, her fingers tightening in your hair as you took your time, cherishing every moment, every reaction.

You decided to add your fingers into the mix, thrusting them inside of her, and a long, soft moan escaped her lips. Jinx’s body responded eagerly, arching toward you as if craving more. You could feel the warmth radiating from her, the way she melted beneath your touch igniting a rush of exhilaration within you.

“Just like that,” she gasped, her fingers still tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if she wanted you to be a part of her completely. The urgency in her voice made your heart race, and you reveled in the control you had over her pleasure.

“Is this what you wanted?” you teased, your breath warm against her skin as you began to move your fingers in a steady rhythm, curling them just right. Each thrust brought forth another wave of pleasure, another gasp that made you want to smile.

“Yes! Just like that!” Jinx breathed, her voice trembling with need. You could see the way her body reacted, how she squirmed and writhed beneath you, and it only encouraged you to go further.

You leaned down, placing gentle kisses along her thigh, reminding her of the connection you shared as you continued to tease and explore her. Every movement was deliberate, designed to drive her wild, to make her forget everything else but the sensation of being with you in that moment.

“God, I can’t get enough of you,” you murmured against her skin, feeling the heat of her body against your lips. Jinx’s eyes sparkled with mischief and desire, and you could tell she was close.

“Don’t stop, please!” she urged, her voice a mix of desperation and delight. You quickened your pace, your fingers moving with newfound urgency as you watched her face, captivated by the way her pleasure built higher and higher.

“Let go for me,” you encouraged softly, feeling the tension in her body as it coiled tighter. The room was filled with the sounds of her gasps and the rhythm of your movements, creating a beautiful melody that echoed the intensity of the moment.

As Jinx finally surrendered to the wave of pleasure, you felt a rush of triumph wash over you. In that blissful moment, everything else faded away, and all that remained was the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Jinx's body tensed and then relaxed in a series of delightful shudders. You watched in awe as her expression transformed, a mix of bliss and vulnerability that made your heart swell. You slowed your movements, wanting her to savor every lingering moment, every aftershock of ecstasy.

“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering open, filled with a soft glow. “You really know how to treat a girl right.”

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “I just aim to please,” you replied playfully, your heart racing at the intimate connection you had just shared.

Jinx’s smile was radiant, and she pulled you closer, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that sent warmth through your entire body. “You definitely succeeded,” she whispered against your mouth, her fingers tracing the outline of your jaw.

As you kissed her, the world around you faded again, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you both like a warm embrace. The taste of her lingered on your lips, sweet and intoxicating, fueling the spark of desire that still flickered between you.

“Can I return the favor?” she asked, her voice playful but with an underlying sincerity that sent a thrill through you.

You felt your cheeks heat at the suggestion, but you nodded eagerly. “Only if you want to,” you replied, your heart racing at the thought of her taking charge.

“Trust me, I do,” Jinx said, her grin wide and mischievous. She shifted to position herself above you, a look of determination in her eyes that made your breath hitch.

As she settled between your legs, you couldn’t help but admire her confidence. Jinx leaned down, planting soft kisses along your body, savoring every inch of your skin. Each touch felt electric, igniting your senses and leaving you craving more.

“Just relax,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. You nodded, allowing her to take the lead, your heart racing in anticipation of what was to come.

The sensation of her lips trailing lower sent shivers through you, and you felt yourself sinking deeper into the sheets, completely at her mercy. Every kiss was filled with love and passion, a reminder of the connection you had forged in that cozy bed.

Jinx paused, looking up at you with a playful sparkle in her eyes. “You ready?” she asked, her voice low and sultry.

You nodded, breathless with excitement. “Always,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

With that, she continued her descent, and you felt the world around you fade away again as she focused her attention on you, filling the room with shared laughter, love, and warmth that made everything feel just right.

With a sly smile, Jinx shifted her focus, her lips dancing across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Each kiss sent ripples of anticipation through you, drawing soft gasps from your lips. You couldn’t help but arch your back slightly, urging her on, lost in the intoxicating sensations.

Jinx’s laughter echoed softly in the room as she reveled in the effect she had on you. “You’re so cute when you get all flustered,” she teased, looking up at you with those bright, playful eyes that held a hint of mischief.

“Only because you make it impossible to stay calm,” you replied, your voice breathless, heart racing as you felt her warmth envelop you.

She smirked, leaning in closer, her breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “Good,” she whispered, before pressing a soft kiss against your stomach as she slowly took down your own underwear, sending another wave of shivers coursing through you. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, anticipation building with every gentle caress.

As she continued her descent, her lips brushed against your thighs, teasingly lingering just enough to drive you wild. You could feel the tension in the air, thick with desire, every breath feeling heavier as you awaited her next move. “Jinx, please…” you murmured, half a plea and half a command.

“Patience,” she shot back playfully, her eyes sparkling with delight as she pulled back slightly to tease you. “I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”

With a determined look, she finally kissed you where you needed it the most, her mouth immediately sucking your clit, just as you did with her, each gentle touch eliciting gasps that echoed in the quiet room. She took her time, savoring every reaction you gave her, her confidence radiating as she explored what made you tick.

“God, you’re amazing,” you breathed, lost in the sensations she was creating. You could feel the warmth pooling deep inside you, the tension building to an almost unbearable level. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” she replied with a soft chuckle, the sound sending shivers down your spine. As she licked and flicked her tongue on your pussy, making you feel an overwhelming rush of pleasure, your body responded instinctively as you melted into her.

Every movement was filled with a playful urgency, and you tangled your fingers in her hair, guiding her as she navigated the sensitive areas with expert precision. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you and the blissful connection that deepened with every moment.

“Jinx,” you gasped, feeling the tension building to a breaking point. “I’m so close…”

“Let go, toots,” she murmured, her voice low and encouraging. “I’ve got you.”

With her words echoing in your mind, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure that crashed over you. Your body responded eagerly, a rush of bliss that left you breathless as you found release, each wave washing away any lingering doubts or worries.

Jinx held you close, her movements slowing as she savored every moment, every reaction. As you came down from the high, she pressed gentle kisses along your thighs, your skin still tingling from the intensity of it all.

Your heart racing as you pulled her up to you, wanting to feel her warmth enveloping you once again. “You really are incredible.”

Jinx’s smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I aim to please,” she quoted you, her voice teasing yet filled with affection. “So, what do you think about these relationship benefits now?”

You laughed, pulling her in for a kiss, savoring the taste of her lips and the lingering sweetness of your shared moments. “I think they might just be my favorite thing about us.”

She grinned against your mouth, her playful energy infectious. “Good, because I’m not done exploring all the benefits yet.”

And as you both settled back under the covers, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of warmth, laughter, and love. Just like it was always meant to be.

[lilangelbud]

She lounged on her bed, her phone propped against the pillows, her lip caught between her teeth as she scrolled through her camera roll. Bored. That was the word of the day. The house was too quiet, the heat making the air thick and lazy. She’d already binge-watched two seasons of a show she didn’t even like, eaten half a bag of chips, and painted her toenails three different colors. Now, she was left with nothing but her thoughts—and her brother’s number on her screen.

You’re at work, right? she typed, her fingers tapping lightly against the screen. She hit send before she could second-guess herself.

No response.

She pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in a way she knew made her look annoyingly cute. Why is he ignoring me? She sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it up, her heart leaping—only to see it was a spam email. Ugh.

Fine. If he wasn’t going to answer, she’d make him. She grabbed her phone, flipped the camera to selfie mode, and took a quick picture. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts—the one that always smelled like him—and nothing else. The hem barely grazed the tops of her thighs, and she made sure to angle the shot just right, her legs slightly parted, her lips in a teasing pout. She hit send, adding a caption: Miss you.

Still nothing.

Her cheeks flushed, but she wasn’t ready to back down. She adjusted the shirt, pulling it up a little higher, and took another. This time, she let the fabric ride up her thighs, her smooth skin gleaming in the soft light filtering through her window. She sent it with the caption: You’re really gonna ignore me?

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

She grinned, her pulse quickening. Finally.

Another buzz: What the hell are you doing?

She bit her lip, her fingers flying over the screen. Nothing. Just bored. You’re ignoring me, so I’m entertaining myself.

A pause. Then: Stop it.

She laughed, the sound soft and mischievous. Make me.

Another pause. Longer this time. She could almost feel the tension through the screen, the way he was probably staring at his phone, his jaw tight, his breath hitching. She loved that she could do this to him, loved the way she could unravel him with just a few pictures, a few words.

She took another. This time, she let the shirt slip off one shoulder, her bra strap peeking out just enough to tease. She sent it with: You still at work? Must be so boring there. Poor you.

No response.

She frowned, her heart thudding in her chest. Is he mad? She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the screen. But then her stubbornness kicked in, the part of her that loved pushing his buttons, loved watching him lose control. She took one more, this time letting the shirt ride up even higher, her hips tilted just enough to give him a glimpse of what lay beneath. She sent it with: Fine. If you don’t want to play, I’ll just stop.

Still nothing.

She huffed, tossing her phone onto the bed. Ugh, he’s so annoying. She crossed her arms over her chest, her pout deepening. He probably doesn’t even care. Stupid work. Stupid brother.

But then she heard it. The sound of the front door slamming open, heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs. Her heart leapt into her throat, her stomach twisting in a mix of fear and excitement. No way.

Her door flew open, and there he was—her big brother, his chest heaving, his eyes dark and blazing.

“Y-you still have three hours before you’re supposed to be home!” she stammered, scrambling back on the bed.

“Took an early day,” he growled, stepping into the room. “Family emergency.”

Her breath hitched as he crossed the room in two strides, his hands grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head. She squirmed, but he was too strong, his body pressing her into the mattress, his weight crushing her in the most delicious way.

“You think this is a game?” he growled, his voice low and rough.

She opened her mouth to protest, but his lips crushed against hers in a searing kiss, cutting off any words she might have said. She moaned, her body arching against his as big bro's tongue slipped into her mouth, claiming her with a fierceness that made her head spin.

His hands moved down her body, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt, his fingers brushing against her bare skin. She whimpered, her hips bucking against his as he pulled the shirt up, exposing her to his hungry gaze.

“You’ve been teasing me all day,” he muttered, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth nibbling at her skin. “You think I’m just gonna let that slide?”

She gasped, her hands tangling in bro's hair as he kissed his way down her body, his tongue dipping into the hollow of her throat, his teeth grazing her collarbone.

“You started this,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But I’m finishing it.”

She moaned, her back arching as his mouth found her breast, his tongue circling her nipple before taking it into his mouth. She cried out, her fingers tightening in his hair as he sucked and teased, his other hand sliding down her body, slipping between her thighs.

“W-you’re not supposed to—” she started, but he cut her off with another kiss, his fingers finding her wet and ready, slipping inside her with a groan.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, his voice rough and raw. “All because of those pictures you sent me.”

She whimpered, her hips rocking against his hand as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, his thumb circling her clit in slow, deliberate circles. She could feel herself spiraling out of control, the pleasure building inside her until she thought she might scream.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled, his lips brushing against her ear. “You like driving me crazy, making me lose control.”

She nodded, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as bro added another finger, stretching her, filling her in the most delicious way. “Y-yes,” she moaned, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “I-I love it.”

He growled, his fingers moving faster, deeper, until she was trembling beneath him, her body taut with pleasure. “You’re such a fucking brat,” he muttered, his lips trailing down her neck. “But you’re mine.”

She cried out as his teeth nipped at her skin, his fingers curling inside her, hitting that sweet spot that made her see stars. “B-bro—” she started, but he cut her off with another kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as he brought her to the edge and pushed her over.

She came with a cry, her body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure ripped through her, her nails digging into his skin. Big bro didn’t stop, his fingers working her until she was trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

When she finally came down, he pulled his fingers out of her, bringing them to his lips and sucking her taste off of them with a low groan. “You’re not done,” he said, his voice dark and dangerous. “Not even close.”

She whimpered, her body still trembling as he reached for his belt, the sound of it sliding through the loops making her heart race. “B-but—” she started, but he cut her off with another kiss, his hand tangling in her hair as he claimed her mouth.

“You started this,” he growled, his voice rough and raw. “Now you’re gonna finish it.”

[s0urlemone]

Hiya! Have you received any writing requests yet?Just incase you’re not swamped by requests yet, have mine😊 (feel free to ignore if you are in fact swamped)

Could you write a headcanon about how the bachelors react when the farmer brings then flowers?

Thanks in advance!

Gifting flowers to the bachelors hcs - SFW

Hiya, anon! Thank you so much. Please, leave as many requests as you want. Sometimes I’m busy or not inspired enough, but I promise I read you and will try my best to fulfil your requests. Also, sometimes I get lazy, I have to admit it.

Please, if you have feedbacks for me, those are appreciated as well! I did this specific ask for the bachelors, but if you want, I can write some headcanons for the bachelorettes too! Also I am not actually sure lilacs are good for allergic subjects, but for the sake of Harvey we’ll pretend they are. ^^” I might write something more about these scenarios because I’ve had a lot of fun!

INCLUDES: Elliott, Alex, Shane, Harvey, Sebastian, Sam.

WARNING! a little bit of angst in Shane and especially Alex’s scenarios, mention of toxic stereotypes, brief mention to Kent’s whereabouts, mention of alcohol and hangover symptoms in Shane’s scenario, some things might be inaccurate.

WORDS COUNT: 4.8K (I've tried to be equal for every hc.)

Elliott:

We all already know that, but Elliott is a sentimentalist at heart;

He himself is a person that likes gifting apparently meaningless knick-knacks to the people he appreciates or to express gratitude. Sometimes it’s a poem coming out of his own pen, but other times it could be a colorful seashell he found during his morning walk!

Still, receiving gifts makes him happy like a kid on the Feast of the Winter Star, about to receive their present. It’s the thought behind it, you see. You could gift him a particular leaf and he would still treasure it for its deep hidden meaning.

He also stresses a lot over not sounding ungrateful.

Premises made! Elliott has been stuck in bed for almost a week now, trapped by a terrible flu.

Sometimes Willy, the good man he is, checks up on him, but the man wakes up really early to go fishing and he’s not always available when he’s in open sea, you know?

Thankfully, you know no boundaries. You’ve been barging into Elliott’s lonely shrack for days to check up on him. It must be depressing to live alone and be sick. The sound of the waves and the seagulls might make up for it during the day, but as soon as the sun sets behind the shores, you can’t help but think how Elliott must be feeling all by himself, as the wind roars against the unstable wooden shed.

Poor, poor Elliott in need of your care. The fact you have a little crush on him is irrelevant in this scenario, isn’t it?

Still, you’re keen on winning the imaginary best-and-most-nosy-citizen-of-Pelican-Town award for another year. So you decide to do something to cheer him up and barge in once again.

You have no doubt that, being a writer and a romanticist, he will find your gift beautiful and actually get the meaning of it.

That morning, you find him sitting up in his bed in a white shirt, his auburn locks a tangled mess. His eyes still look at you in the soft morning light with a kindness all of their own. He’s genuinely happy to see you. You are his medicine during these miserable days.

You place it in his lap – a modest bouquet you assembled yourself: Chrysanthemum for a good recovery, Chamomile for patience and Coreopsis to keep a good spirit while healing.

His face becomes the same colour of his hair. A few moved tears well up in his eyes as he grabs the simple bouquet in his arms.

He immediately asks you if you can put them in a vase on his nightstand. Then, as you sit down next to his bed, he grabs your hands in his and looks at you with an exasperatedly sweet expression. He’s so dramatic, sometimes, but you know he’s feeling all the gratitude he’s trying to convey in his words.

His lips find the soft skin of your palms many, many times, his touch reverent as he keeps holding your hands in his delicately.

He looks up at you for a second while his mouth is pressed against your delicate palm, pretending it was a mistake, but you find a glint of something a lot bolder than the delicate touches you've exchanged and you can't quite put your finger on what it is that he's avoiding your gaze again.

He looks at the flowers day and night, feeling much less lonely now that a piece of your heart is next to him.

When he’s finally feeling better enough to sit at his wooden desk, he writes you an heartfelt letter for the beautiful present. Something that goes along the lines of: “Ever since you’ve arrived in this little town, you’ve illuminated my days like a bright sun. Without your care and cheerfulness, I would’ve healed just fine, but with a much heavier heart.” – something like that.

When months later he opens up his notebook in front of you on one of those rare mornings when you don’t have much work to do at the farm and join him for a walk, you see it: a beautiful, familiar flower tucked between two pages like a candid secret.

Alex:

I believe that his father’s words have had a great impact on what he thinks and how he behaves – not in a good way. He’s used to walk on eggshells and to think lowly of himself, even though he’s good at hiding it behind a pompous façade.

Even after coming to the valley, the ghost of his father still haunts him. His harsh words echo inside him every day and sometimes he’s just not strong enough to confront them.

He’s one of those guys that believe that true men don’t cry or show their emotions, that they can’t be too soft, that they have to like certain things to be manly and flowers surely aren’t among the things they should like. It’s not his fault. His father was a great example of toxic masculinity among the other bad things he has been for him – a terrible father, to name one.

So he claims he doesn’t like flowers. Flowers are emasculating, he says. Flowers are something you gift to a girl, because he believes it’s in a woman’s nature to like them.

But when you ask him to elaborate, he actually doesn’t have an explanation beyond that thought other than ‘they are too girly’. It’s like that simple opinion has been instilled there and never questioned until this day.

He doesn’t say these things with a bad meaning, I promise! He’s genuinely trying to overcome the terrible traces his dad has left. Just, sometimes he needs a little help to recognise some patterns as wrong. Wrong not per se – in this case, yes – but because many of his beliefs are forged on the fact he has shaped his whole person on what his father constantly criticised.

Ugh, I love him and I want to punch his dad so bad.

When Spring’s knocking on the door, sometimes Alex helps Evelyn with the flowers arrangments around Pelican Town. He’s strong, after all! But sometimes his grandma asks him for an opinion and, well, he has a very refined taste.

Still, he won’t admit he likes flowers. If he gave you another reason other than “it’s a girls’ thing”, you would just leave it, but, given the circumstances, you just can’t.

So, of course, you try to explain to him that men can receive flowers too and that they are absolutely allowed to appreciate them. He looks at you dumbfounded, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

It’s not much you have been going out together. You can’t even pinpoint the exact moment you realised you two were dating. You gradually started spending more time together, you at his kiosk and him at your farm helping around; then he started walking you home after every outing, stopping at your porch until the sun has set. He’s so delicate in the way he cares for you. He’s a good, sensitive guy. He just has to understand it’s not a flaw.

It’s part of your summer routine to spend some time together down the beach or walking around before the sun gets too strong and he has to open the kiosk. You both wake up fairly early and even though he could simply come to your farm and hang out as you do your things, you need a distraction too, sometimes.

And it’s not like you get much done when he comes over anyway.

Every morning, he’s already out of his house waiting for you, waving his imaginary tail at you when you approach him – even though he tries to keep it cool. He has an image, you know.

Today, though, you were so nervous you took the path that leads to the city earlier than usual. Evelyn has found you waiting for her grandson outside of their house, so she let you in.

She glances at the colorful bouquet in your hands with a loving smile and tells you to go wake Alex up, as he’s probably still asleep.

His room is dark, a vagabond ray filtering through a small space left between the blinds and the windowsill finds its way to the bed where Alex is snoring quietly. You sit at the edge of the bed and shake him gently.

He groans, opens his eyes and turns to the other side. Then, after realising it’s you, he jumps on his bed and rubs his eyes.

“Wha… What are you…” he mumbles, trying to fix his hair. You don’t even give him the chance to get out of his confused daze that you place the pretty bouquet in his lap, a little token of your affection and a reinforcing demonstration to your words of the conversation you’ve had in the previous days.

And, oh, your heart shatters when he realises what’s going on and starts tearing up. His cheeks heat up and he’s suddenly picking you up and placing you in his lap, one hand holding the flowers and the other placed securely around your waist as he hides his warm face in your neck, sobbing.

He’s a very sensitive guy and he appreciates you a lot. Just, he doesn’t allow himself to show it too often in case you might judge him as weak. But you don’t and with that simple, genuine gesture he remembers once again that he doesn’t have to pretend around you. He’s free to be himself.

He’s grateful for the flowers, but he’s especially grateful for you. From that moment on, he lets himself be more vulnerable around you. He starts showing that he’s not casual about you, but that he has serious intentions and that he’s not dating you just for fun. Which is great, really.

You start gifting each other flowers every now and then. Evelyn finds it endearing, especially when Alex asks her for advice.

In your love, he can rest and grow. He’s finally safe from his father.

Shane:

We all already know how terribly shy this man is.

And how self-deprecating he is. He truly believes he doesn’t deserve good things. Not that there are that many left for him – or so he believes, at least.

He lives his existence in a drunken haze, devoted to a bottle of beer and to his little niece. Until he met you, that is.

It’s not easy to get Shane to open up, but you’re on a good way. He’s warmed up to you a little ever since you’ve moved to Pelican Town, so, when he’s in a particularly good mood, you join him at the Saloon for a drink or two.

Emily has just brought you your third round before turning around to discuss with Lewis some particulars about the flowers arrangment for the upcoming Flower Dance. Shane scoffs by your side.

You ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t elaborate. Then it hits you; it’s tradition among your fellow citizens to gift each other pretty flower arrangements in occasion of the yearly Flower Dance. A pletora of colours decors counters, tables, windowsills as a reminder that Spring is passing by. It’s just a way to celebrate, to wait for the Flower Dance with a little more excitement.

You ask him if he’s ever received a bouquet, but he scoffs. It’s not like he gets that many gifts nowadays. He’s not popular with the ladies anymore. The only “lady” that sometimes gifts him something is his niece, when she comes back home from Ms. Penny’s lessons with a colorful drawing or a pretty handmade bracelet.

You don’t know if he’d be happy to receive a gift from you. Not the usual pepper poppers you bring to the ranch, lying that you “accidentally made too many”, but a proper gift. Still, you’re tired of the confusing tension that hovers over you when you’re together. You want to give him a hint and he’s just served you the solution on a silver plate.

A couple of days later, on a Sunday, he’s feeding Marnie’s chickens in the back of the ranch. He had been drinking the night before – and the one before, and the one even before – and his stomach feels like crap, but Jas is at home and he’s not going to let her notice that he’s feeling unwell. Plus, he’s used to work with a hangover.

The little girl calls him out to the front, telling him the farmer has came to visit.

He grumbles. He’s grown fond of you over the past few months, but you can be a pain in the ass sometimes. Especially when he’s already fighting against the urge to puke everywhere. You were there last night. He doesn’t need your scolding.

Still, he unconsciously runs a hand through his hair to make it decent and comes out.

His face becomes so red it looks like he’s been staying out in the sun for too long.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary. It’s always you and that stupid, cheerful expression of yours – but he immediately notices the large bouquet you’re holding in your arms. And it doesn’t leave any room for doubts. You were doing it on purpose, probably to fluster him or to mock him.

Otherwise, why would you be carrying him a bouquet of fully-bloomed red roses?

You explain yourself, hiding your equally red face behind the sudden present, and you tell him that there is at least one person willing to give him gifts actually, even if he claims he’s not that popular with the ladies anymore.

He looks at you, stunned, but decides to lift the huge bouquet from your arms – only to help you out. It looks pretty heavy, after all.

He grumbles a quick “thank you”, his face scorching, but he doesn’t have to deal with the embarrassment any longer because you’re as red as him and you claim you need some fresh air before waltzing out of his house.

Jas is a smart kid and she immediately figures out what’s going on, but she doesn’t comment on it, which he appreciates. Except that when Marnie, absent during that shameful exchange, starts teasing him during dinner about what happened that morning, he immediately understands Jas has spilled everything.

He spends days contemplating the flowers in his room, but it’s only when the last petal is rotting that he figures he should do something to express his gratitude… somehow.

He’s terrible with these things. While he walks the sunny path towards your farm, he’s tempted to turn around and go back home many times. Yet, he knocks on your door fairly early during the morning, after having avoided you for a good amount of days.

Pulling you in and planting an awkward kiss on your cheek, he leaves a small box in your hands before trotting away. Inside, there’s a cute hay hat, decorated with a green ribbon, and a ticket: “so you won’t get sunburnt anymore.”

Harvey:

Pelican Town’s citizens have really grown on the goofy doctor. He was searching for a peaceful place to exercise his profession, away from the chaotic city he has studied in, and even though he sometimes misses the endless choices of fun it offered, he wouldn’t go back to the smog and the traffic and the noise pollution and—

You get it. Despite being used to a different life style, and maybe especially because of this, he’s grown to love the quiet valley. It does wonders for the health, too, because the air is clear and the routine is slow.

There’s only one issue and I’ll give you a riddle to guess it. To keep you alert, you see.

You can find it in the air during Spring and it makes you sneeze the whole fucking day.

Spring, after all, is the pollen season. It’s an amazing sight when flowers are blooming everywhere and the trees are producing their juicy fruits, but Harvey can only admire the colorful change of the flora around the valley from afar, because he’s terribly allergic. He follows some therapy to keep it at bay, but he hasn’t found an antihistamine good enough to cover him completely.

His house, too, is full of fake plants because of that reason.

One day, after he was so attentive with taking care of you when you strained your ankle in the mines, not only as a doctor but also as a friend, you decided to have a bouquet of dahlias – symbol of gratitude – delivered to his clinic.

Huge mistake. He was miserable and you couldn’t stop apologising.

Still, you found it so sad. Flowers can really make a person happy, they’re a meaningful gift and they’re just so pretty to look at! You want Harvey to be able to enjoy them too, possibly avoiding harming him in the process.  

When he has finally recovered from his brief crisis, he visits you again to check up on you and your poor ankle. It’s doing fairly good now, compared to when Linus had found you in the mines, crying for help; Harvey is good at his job and he’s a kind soul, which gives him a boost.

He also visits you for the simple pleasure of your company. And he’s confident enough that you enjoy his company as well, because there’s not one single moment of silence whenever he comes over and sits at your bedside to chat about everything but your ankle.

The first five minutes, he tries to pretend he’s there for medical reasons. You both drop the act after a while, though. You simply like spending time with each other, when he doesn’t have any patient or Maru is covering him at the clinic at least.

Anyway, to PROPERLY THIS TIME thank him for the great care and also as a way to apologise for the little allergy accident, you decide to resort to your knowledge as a farmer to find a way to gift him a floral token without potentially causing him another crisis.

One afternoon, after his usual round of his patients’ houses – he regularly checks up on George and Robin has been stuck in bed for a bad flu – and saving yours for last, both because you live far from the city center and because he wants to enjoy your company with no rush, he finds a large bouquet on the chair he usually sits on to chat with you.

Is it a joke? He doesn’t know what to do other than stare at you from the doorway, but you quickly reassure him. You had done your researches and lilacs should be harmless, even for a nose as sensitive as his.

He walks towards your bed slowly, weighing every step, and then he carefully, gracefully picks up the bouquet, staring at the beautiful flowers and especially admiring your effort in finding something he, too, could enjoy. His ears are of a lovely shade of bordeaux, in great contrast with the purple petals.

But you aren’t done teasing the bashful doctor. While he composes himself with a cough and neatly places his case and the flowers on the chair to visit you, you simply observe him. But when he finally sits down beside you, you lean over and whisper, as if it was a spicy secret:

“Do you know what lilacs simbolise, doc?”

Lilacs simbolise the love that blooms in Spring. And the way his quiet care has made its way throughout the gardens of your heart during this Spring you were forced in bed has definitely made a great affection bloom inside you for the kind-hearted, silent doctor of the valley.

Yes, moving to Pelican Town has been the right choice.

Sebastian:

We all already know about Sebastian’s long-cherished dream to abandon the lonely, slow life of the valley for a more electrifying experience in the city.

The city looks so full of life; it has an alluring charm and a promising sense of freedom that overcomes the negative sides of living in a much vaster space that’s so different from what he’s used to. The bright lights that shine even at night, the tall buildings, the feeling of opportunity…

Yes, he wants to be part of something like that. An immense drawing where he can be both a shadow and a star.

So when this important client of his proposed him to move to Zuzu City for a while to help him work on a new project, he should’ve jumped at the opportunity. And he would have, really. If a couple of months ago someone had asked him to move away from his house and finally experience a piece of that delicious cake that is independence, he would’ve been thrilled.

Except that now there’s you in the picture.

It’s not that you are dating or something, but he’s not a stupid. He knows that something is there, lingering in between the languid gazes you send each other at the Saloon or the way you two always find excuses to bump into each other and stay together for longer. But there’s nothing official. Maybe he’s just seeing things, after all.

After all, you were the first one to encourage him to take the opportunity to explore something other than the peaceful valley.

He can’t exactly mention his feelings when the decision is made. That would be selfish. He’d like to be selfish, to ask you to wait, but he doesn’t, because he’s not even sure when he’ll be back.

What he doesn’t know is that this new story about his transfer has made you really upset. You’re worried he will just forget about you. You were a particular character, different from anyone than he’s ever known, but he has been in the valley for so long that you convince yourself the only reason he’s took a liking to you is because you are fairly new, therefore interesting.

Plus, you have known the city. It can swallow you down with its frenetic pace.

You’re worried he will forget about you. But you’re stuck in the same place as him and so you think you’re in no position to say anything about his wishes.

Both of you are stupidly waiting for the other to speak up.

Your affection towards each other has always been subtle. Sometimes a simple gaze is enough between you. Hidden, but fulfilling.

He has to wake up early tomorrow, so you settle to meet up after dinner to spend some more time together.

Your heart trembles when you see him, nonchalantly cool as if he had just came out of a stupid romance book, leaning against his bike as he lights a cigarette.

He takes you for a ride. You don’t speak much, words probably meaningless when the wind and the way your hands are gripping his waist like an anchor are already doing all the talking. When you stop for a quick break, though, you have to face the heavy elephant in the room. And you don’t ask him for any promise – not out loud, at least.

With subtlety, you lean down and pick up a couple of pretty Forget me not.

He doesn’t say much. His gaze is tender, his eyes a bit melancholic. His soft, long hand gently holds the one that’s handing him the flowers.

He takes one and clumsily tucks it in your hair.

There’s this particular silver locket he has once bought on a morning he decided to skip school with Sam and they wandered through some flea market. When he wakes up the next day, he puts one of the small, crumpled token of your affection – so intense you couldn’t dare to put it into words – in it and you can bet he doesn’t take it off. Ever. Not even to shower.

A couple of months pass by and he actually gets the opportunity to prolong his staying in the captivating city he has longed for ever since he was a kid. You’ve heard that from Robin one morning, while visiting her to discuss the building of a new barn. It’s not like you’ve talked much ever since he has moved to Zuzu City.

You pretend your stomach isn’t full of butterflies as you casually ask for more informations. You’re genuinely happy for him, aren’t you? Despite your bitter, conflicted feelings towards him, you care about Sebastian.

So when one evening, while coming back from an exhausting day in the mines, you find him waiting for you leaning against his bike, you don’t understand why you feel so helplessly happy to the point of crying.

He had discovered he prefers the quietness of the valley… and you.

“See, I couldn’t forget you.”

Sam:

Sometimes Samson can be a bit of an adorable dumbass, with his dorky attitude and golden retriever tendencies, but we know he absolutely rocks as an older brother.

Since Kent is fighting on the front line and Jodi has so much on her plate, he gladly takes on the role of a parental figure for Vincent. Also, he’s absolutely weak to that round, freckled face.

His day off from his awful job at JojaMart is on Sunday. He usually rests during the morning, but he doesn’t like to spend the whole day at home, no matter how tired he is.

One Sunday morning, though, he finds little Vincent sulking at the kitchen table, his round eyes full of tears that he’s trying so hard not to spill, only to let them all out as soon as he sees his big brother.

It’s not like him throwing a tantrum, but Jodi has promised to take him and Jas to a little outing to the lake that day. Just, something came up and she can’t take them anymore. Despite them being responsible kids (also read: despite Jas being a responsible kid), Jodi really can’t let him go with a light heart. And it’s not like she can ask Sam, right? It’s his free day, he works so hard at JojaMart-

Well, have I already told you that he can’t resist his little brother? Besides, every occasion is good to show off and demonstrate how cool he is, not like other boring adults. So, despite being tired from stocking the shelves and cleaning the floors all week, he takes his brother and Shane’s niece to the lake.

Passed Seb’s house, Sam discovers that a certain someone had planned to spend their Sunday at the lake, too, and he can’t stop thanking his lucky star. He almost trips over himself as he sets the blanket on the grass and invites you to join their arranged picnic, but you accept gleefully and even promise the kids you will teach them how to use the fishing rod Willy gifted you later.

You spend the afternoon watching the kids together and chatting.

At some point, after tiring themselves out for the whole afternoon, Vincent and Jas invade your little lovely picture with a bunch of flowers they’ve picked on the shore. With graceful mastery, you show them how to make crowns out of the pretty flowers they’ve picked and they immediately get to work under your amused gaze.

You pick some of the flowers, too, and as the conversation flows you start weaving them quickly, your eyes falling only sometimes to your hands to check how it’s turning out. Sam doesn’t think too much of it; despite feeling a bit awkward at first, the words are now flowing out of his mouth smoothly. You feel overwhelmed by his energy, but you find it contagious, so you can’t really complain.

He stops talking – nervous as he is, he needed just a little push to completely lose himself – when you place the crown made of little white flowers on his blond hair.

He laughs, hard, asking you if he looks pretty. Despite it being a casual gesture, something you found yourself doing in the situation, he takes it to his heart to make a crown for you as well. And so, you try to teach him, your fingers casually – it’s not like you have a crush on the dork, no – brushing against his guitarist’s ones twice as necessary.

If the kids were struggling, he struggles twice. He should find it easy, shouldn’t he? He plucks the strings of his guitar for hours with great skill, but the flowers keep breaking or losing petals in his hands. He’s not frustrated though, because you’re there to patiently help him learn from his mistakes.

In the end, he manages to make an… acceptable-looking crown for you and you pretend to not notice the adoring look in his blue eyes when he reverently places it on top of your head, or how it’s making your face heat up.

While Jas and Vincent blast your ears off about how they’re going to make crowns for everyone at the next Flower Dance, you take a look at a very sleepy Sam, leaning against the trunk of a tree.

His crown is crooked. You fix it gently as he boldly searches for your hand. You intertwine your pinkies like two kids, your hands kept a secret by the shadow of the tree as he drifts off to sleep.

It has been a tiring week at JojaMart, after all.

[usedpidemo]

Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)

The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff. 

Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.

At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.

And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.

—————

You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.

“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.

“Shoot.”

She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.” 

Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”

She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.

“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”

At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality. 

“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.” 

You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”

“No, Yuqi. Just go—”

“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”

You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.

“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.

“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.

“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”

Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?

“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”

“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.

You can only sigh in response before closing the door.

—————

Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.

“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”

“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed. 

You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”

“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.

“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.

She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”

“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”

Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.

“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”

Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.

“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”

“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.

You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”

To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.

You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures. 

This feels like your first day together all over again.

—————

The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word. 

When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way. 

“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears. 

“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.

“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.” 

“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.

You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?” 

“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—” 

“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”

“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Not even a little—”

“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.” 

You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation. 

The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.

Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.

—————

“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.

“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”

“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“Oof.” 

You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.

“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”

“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”

She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate. 

—————

“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.

Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.

“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.

“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”

“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers. 

“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”

“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.

“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”

—————

At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.

You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”

That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi. 

Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”

“Elaborate.” You laugh.

“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”

“And for good reason. Look at us now.” 

If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.

“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.” 

The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.

“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back. 

“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.” 

Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds. 

“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”

You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”

“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”

“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.” 

If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?

“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.

“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw. 

It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face. 

And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise. 

Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.

The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.

“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”

You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic. 

“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”

“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”

The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.

The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.

“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.

“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”

You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.

“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.

After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.

—————

The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.

In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.

It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.

Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.

To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there. 

“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”

“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.

“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”

“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”

“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”

So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.

“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”

Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing. 

“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”

“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.” 

Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same. 

Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests. 

You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.

“What do you mean?” You take another sip.

“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.

“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek. 

“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”

“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by. 

The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged  private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.

Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again. 

Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.

You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning. 

Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.

—————

Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:

> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi

Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.

Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable. 

So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.

You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.

“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”

“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”

A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”

“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”

“And what makes you say that?” 

“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”

“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”

Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.

That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.

Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”

“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.

She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”

Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!” 

Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.

Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint. 

The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all. 

There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.

“Fuck—oh fuck—”

You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer.  Way more explicit. Vivid.

“So—so—good—fuck yes—”

There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good. 

As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.

“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”

It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.

There’s no better opportunity than now.

With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself. 

Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.

Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.

Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.

“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”

It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.

She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”

The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.

“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”

Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.

When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.

Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell. 

So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:

“Hey.”

Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:

“W-what time is it?”

Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.

She doesn’t.

“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”

She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.

Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours. 

“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—” 

“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”

Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.

Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.

Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in. 

“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”

You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought. 

Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”

“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”

“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought  you were—”

“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”

And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.

You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly. 

It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.

And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her. 

“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.

Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.

You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you. 

Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—

Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”

The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever. 

And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.

You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating. 

“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”

“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”

You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.

It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.

And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.

“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”

The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.

It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.

Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.

And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.

“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.

“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips. 

“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”

Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.

And God, it fucking burns. 

You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her. 

She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core. 

You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.

There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.

—————

You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.

And it was.

It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”

This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.

Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.

“So, Yuqi.”

The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them. 

“About last night—”

Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret. 

“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”

“Sorry for what?”

You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.

Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”

You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”

It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”

That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.

“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.

“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin. 

“I think I know exactly how.”

And that’s all that needed to be said.

Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.

All the more reason for you two to stay together.

—————

(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)

(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)

(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ Danny Phantom ~

If you need a hug, Danny will give you one.

———————

I wish I could wear a smile as easily as you do. There’s something about it—your smile—it lifts me up in ways I don’t fully understand.

Thank you for that.

But seriously, stop using that cold, irresistible charm of yours—it’s distracting, Danny.

———————

Atleast he gave me a cold hug. Because I needed one.

Colored sketches/drafts, whatever. Again. I am so lazy these days… depression hits hard.

———————

It’s late—far too late for anyone to be awake. But here I am, once again, sitting on the cold floor of my room, with my knees hugged to my chest. The dim glow of my cozy lights barely reaches the shadows stretching across the corners.

I don’t even know how he got here, but Danny is leaning against my doorframe, his face half-lit, half-lost in the gloom. His arms are crossed, but his usual lighthearted demeanor is gone. His glowing green eyes… they’re heavier than usual, like they’ve seen too much—carried too much.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice almost fragile, as though the words might shatter if spoken louder.

I don’t answer.

I can’t.

My throat feels tight, my chest heavier than the silence pressing down. Instead, I shake my head, my hair falling over my face like a curtain I don’t want to pull back.

Danny sighs, the kind of sigh that feels shared—like he knows exactly how I feel but doesn’t want to admit it. He steps into the room, his boots scuffing against the floor. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit beside me, his cold shoulder brushing against mine.

“I know how it feels,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “To… feel like everything’s too much. Like you’re carrying the weight of the world, even when it’s not yours to carry.”

“Is that what you tell yourself when you disappear for days?” I glance at him, his expression flickering between guilt and understanding. “You don’t really have to be here, Danny. I’ll be fine. I’ll always be fine.”

But instead of answering, he reaches out, his gloved hand trailing against mine. It’s tentative, almost shy, but his cold seeps into my warm skin, grounding me in a way I didn’t expect.

“Stop that,” he murmurs. “Stop pretending you don’t need anyone. And stop pretending that you’re fine, because you aren’t.”

My breath shudders, and before I can stop myself, tears spill over, rolling silently down my cheeks. I hate crying in front of anyone. I hate that vulnerability, the exposure.

But Danny doesn’t look at me like I’m weak.

He just looks… sad.

For me.

For himself.

For whatever weight we’re both carrying.

Without a word, he pulls me into a hug. It’s awkward at first, like he’s not sure if I’ll push him away.

But I don’t.

I can’t.

His arms are strong, but there’s a hesitance to them, as if he’s afraid I might shatter in his grasp.

I don’t.

Instead, I fall into him, my head resting against his shoulder, his purr steady against my ear.

“You know I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Just remember that. I’ve been by your side as long as I can remember, even when you didn’t realize it,” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly. “But you have to let people in, instead of pushing them away. Just know you don’t have to do these things alone.”

I want to tell him he’s wrong, that I’ve always been alone. That even when people care and I let them in, they leave anyway.

But his arms tighten around me, and the words crumble before they can leave my mouth. For once, I let myself believe him, even if it’s just for a moment.

The hug lingers, long after the tears stop falling. Neither of us speaks.

There’s no need to.

His presence says enough—he’s just here.

———————

My imagination is beyond otherwordly at this very moment.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Fire and Frost

17/12: Tinsel and Talking Dirty - modern!Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: pussy slapping, dirty talk, hair pulling

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

The faint hum of the central heating filled the apartment, its warmth fighting back the biting chill of the December evening. The scent of cinnamon lingered faintly, a remnant of the candle she had lit earlier. Aemond leaned back against the sofa, watching her with a bemused expression.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

She could roll her eyes, again, but she doubted it would make a difference. Mr. I-don’t-celebrate-Christmas sat cross-armed, observing as she unwrapped a tangle of decorations, their bright colors gleaming under the soft, golden glow of the apartment’s floor lamp. A tiny artificial tree perched on the side table, not her usual five foot, real fir, but it would have to do.

She paused and gave him a pointed look. “Don’t be a Scrooge, help me decorate.”

“What in the Seven Hells is a ‘Scrooge’?”

The exasperation bubbled up again, and this time she did roll her eyes. “Seriously? Have you never had Christmas before?”

A faint shadow flickered over his face, so brief she nearly missed it. The idea left her both curious and sad, but before she could push the thought further, she shook it off and pulled out another box of decorations.

If he'd never had a proper Christmas before, she'd give a good one.

Soon, she was dragging him off the sofa, his exhaled huff carrying the faintest tinge of amusement. Together, they worked their way around the apartment. She hummed softly as she placed ceramic Christmas trees and wreaths on shelves and countertops, her enthusiasm battling with his stoic nature. Aemond followed, his movements reluctant but oddly endearing. She couldn’t help but smile as their shared space became cozier with every ornament.

The sharp metallic shimmer of tinsel caught her eye as she moved to the mantle. She turned, mid-smirk, just in time to see Aemond wrestling with a particularly unruly length of it. 

“What the fuck is this stuff?” he muttered, holding it up as if it might bite him.

She snorted, “Aemond, you sound like an alien.”

“It’s awful. And it looks like shit—”

“Okay, okay,” she interrupted, laughing, “Are we still going out later?”

Aemond blinked, momentarily thrown by the shift in topic. “To the cocktail bar? The one you saw with Aegon…and whoever he was with?”

“Yes!” She beamed, “that one. I thought it looked festive.”

“I’m ready whenever you are. I’ll go out like this.”

She gave him a skeptical glance but didn’t argue. Slipping into the bedroom, she began to get ready. She rummaged through her wardrobe, pulling out her black leather boots and the outfit she had been saving. The faint hum of a holiday tune played in her head as she freshened up at the vanity. A bag of sparkly hair tinsel caught her eye, an odd souvenir from Aegon’s drunk ex in a bar bathroom.

She hesitated, then shrugged. Why not?

When she emerged, her boots clicking softly against the wooden floor, she called out, “Nearly ready, Aem!” She dabbed a little of her favorite perfume on her wrists. Floral and spicy.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn on the sofa, about to reply, but the words stalled as his gaze swept over her. She looked down at herself, smoothing her skirt before glancing up. “What?” she asked, her cheeks warming. “Too much?”

His lips parted slightly, his one good eye fixed on her hair. “No, it’s…it’s in your hair.”

“What is?” She blinked, confused.

“That…tinsel stuff.”

She reached up, fingers brushing against the glimmering strands. “Oh! No, it’s hair tinsel. It gives your hair an extra sparkle. Don’t you like it?”

For a moment, he didn’t reply, his expression unreadable. Then a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he stepped closer. “No,” he murmured, his fingers reaching out to gently catch a sparkling strand, “it looks…nice.”

“Just nice?” she teased softly, her lips parting as his hand formed a fist in her hair.

For some reason it felt as if they wouldn’t even make it out the door tonight.

He tugged gently, enough to send a shiver down her spine and have her knees shake. She knew that look. The Christmas lights danced off her hair now, but the warmth she felt, she couldn’t say was from them alone. It started against her pulse point, thrumming through her blood, to settle in her stomach, fluttering with anticipation.

A bemused grin swept across his face, mismatched eyes looked back with amusement, his other hand dropping to her side, palming her backside and bringing her body flush with his.

“I've decided,” he starts, his breath ghosting across her cheek, “I don't like your outfit.”

She felt his lips drift across her jawline, to press open-mouthed kisses down her neck, over her pulse point, knowing exactly where all her weak spots lived.

“That so,” she whispered back, voice thick with need.

“Mmhm,” he murmured, using his grip in her hair to tilt her neck, eager for more skin. He could smell the floral notes of her perfume pressed against her flesh, and the more he tasted, the more he wanted.

“I think you're trying to distract me,” she mused.

“Am I?” he replied, his tone laced with faux innocence as he nipped at her skin, down to her collarbone, grinding himself against her to gain the slightest bit of friction. Her fingers curled into his shirt, to keep herself firmly on her feet.

“Aemond, we're going to be late.”

He smirked against her skin, a puff of air against her neck was all she needed to feel to know he felt that he'd won a game she wasn't aware they were playing.

“For what? Overpriced cocktails and obnoxious strangers?”

Her lips parted to retort, but his hand slid down her back, tracing a slow, deliberate path that left her unable to form a coherent thought.

He chuckled, the sound dark and rough, and the hand at her waist slipped lower, cupping her ass and pulling her firmly against him. She could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing against her, and heat bloomed in her core, spreading through her like wildfire.

“Now why would you think I'd waste my night out there…when I could stay in and watch you fall apart on my cock instead.”

Her breath hitched. “Aemond—”

“You like that idea, don’t you?” he interrupted, his tone smug and filthy. His hands gripped her hips now, guiding her against him in a slow grind that left no room for denial. “You’d rather let me spread you out right here, wouldn’t you? Make you beg for it, make you scream my name until you can’t think of anything else.”

The room felt hotter, the air heavier. She tried to steady herself, but his words were relentless, each one unraveling her resolve bit by bit.

“I’ll fuck you right here,” he continued, his hand sliding up her thigh, fingers brushing the hem of her skirt. “Against the wall, on the floor, over the back of the sofa, you can choose. But by the end of the night, you’ll be a mess. My mess.”

She pulled back to look at him, her cheeks flushed with need. There was no time for thoughts, she needed him, and clearly judging by his erection pressed against her stomach, he needed her too.

“Sofa,” she whispered.

He hummed, brushing his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “Fine,” he drawled, taking a step back and leading her toward the sofa. 

His eye raked over her as he leaned back, one arm draped casually over the back, the other patting his thigh. “On top,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She hesitated for a moment, the weight of his gaze searing into her.

“Don’t make me wait,” he snapped. “If you’re so desperate to be fucked, then you’re going to do the work, love. Show me how much you want it.”

Her cheeks burned as she straddled him slowly, the soft leather cool beneath her knees as she settled over his lap.

“That’s better,” he muttered, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. “So good for me.”

She whimpered at his words, her thighs tightening around him as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her skirt, tracing the bare skin of her thighs.

“You think you deserve to ride me?” he sneered, his good eye narrowing as his hand slipped between them, finding the slick heat waiting for him. He groaned softly, his voice darkening. “Fuck, you’re already soaked. Such a desperate little slut.”

He punctuated the name with a soft, wet smack, her breath hitched in part pleasure and pain, but eased as his fingers brushed her clit, the teasing touch sending jolts of pleasure through her.

“Beg,” he commanded, his fingers circling lazily. “If you want to fuck yourself on my cock, you’re going to have to beg for it.”

Her pride wavered, teetering on the edge of defiance, but the ache in her core was too overwhelming. “Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers pulling away entirely, leaving her whining in frustration. “That’s pathetic, even for you,” he smirked, “go on then, baby.”

She reached down, her trembling fingers undoing his belt and pulling his cock free. He was hard, thick, and the sight of him made her mouth go dry. She lined herself up, sinking down slowly, her walls stretching to accommodate him as her head fell back with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands gripping her waist as he watched her. “That’s it. Take it all. Every inch. Don’t stop until you’ve got me buried inside that greedy little cunt.”

Her thighs trembled as she sank down fully, her body flush against his. She began to rock her hips, her movements tentative at first, but his sharp grip and the filthy words spilling from his lips spurred her on.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, his hand coming down hard on her ass with a sharp smack that made her cry out. “Come on, fucking work for it. If you want to come, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against her sensitive skin.

“Look at you,” he growled, his eyes locked on her. “So fucking needy, using me like a toy. Bet you don't even care about getting me off.”

And Gods, why would she when it felt this good?

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