#that they all would truly win. no way! who i think out of these have the biggest chance of winning... maybe panthers or stars

[teastudieseveryday]

Spring cleaning & personal learnings:

I rarely ever post anything personal, but these have been my learnings of 2024:

Your social media account is your personal sanctuary, you can block/delete/remove/not follow back/unfollow people at your own whims. You can choose to block out what you don't want to see and the energy you don't want to be around. You aren't obliged to appease to people for validation. You rock with you, you do you.

Hanging out with unmotivated people who speak fear and negativity into themselves will slowly turn you into a negative/pessimistic/cynic like them even if they support you, energies matter, energies are silent!

Make your phone boring if you want to achieve something in life.

Not everyone needs to know about your plans, sometimes not even your best friend. (this is to say, a lot of us aren't blessed with pure hearted besties who genuinely want for us what we want for ourselves)

Motivation doesn't work, sometimes discipline fails too. Fear is a good tool; fear of failure works on days when motivation and discipline doesn't.

Subconscious rewiring and manifesting can change lives if done correctly and persistently.

No aim is big enough. Just point, aim and shoot!

Always monitor your own personal energy, you need to be energetically healthy to feel good about yourself and your goals and to show up consistently every day.

Some people aren't nice, they won't like you probably because you threaten their social status and it's totally normal to remove yourself from that zone instead of diminishing your light or shrinking yourself to make them feel safe and their alpha status feel less threatened because why? Why would you be less and not more of everything? You can choose not to fight for the attention/love/validation to be seen and heard and make an Irish exit from such spaces. Be where you are celebrated, not where you are tolerated! Such a quote to live by.

Pick your battles, not every battle is worth fighting.

Don't say anything you don't mean. It's very simple.

No revenge, just outdo yourself and the revenge gets taken care of.

Silence is great, not as a power move but because silence gives other people the space to speak, express and be themselves. You don't do power play with your own people; you give them the space to open up to you and be their authentic self.

If you sense powerplay, your best bet is to exit that space. You'll constantly be at an invisible battle in a group/with that person where both will try to take control of the dynamics in that setting and it will end up being a whole lot of mental gymnastics and loss of energy.

Redirect your energy towards bigger and better things, towards things that truly matter.

Reading is great, it inculcates a sense of gravity in your mind about the things you're passionate about, you don't blabber excessively in spaces that genuinely don't matter in the bigger scheme of things, and you build an air of importance and there's this 'chad' like air around you which intimidates people, and they think twice before challenging you to some debate because they know you hold a command over your subject and niche.

Not everyone is your friend. some people are here for your energy, some people are genuinely supportive of you and your goals, some people are not very happy about your small wins and big dreams. All in all- trust your intuition in these instances.

Be authentic about your expression and feelings, life is finite, we will die one day, there's no point being ambiguous or nonchalant about how you feel. Losing to someone in this area of life is far better than being emotionally constipated. Collect good karma and you'll be rewarded likewise in the future!

Your energy does reach the room before your words do, so be self-conscious in a way where you carry yourself with integrity and move with poise.

I watched this reel which I resonated with 100% it went like- life is easier and better when you are a chad, you work out, take care of yourself, do skincare, read, journal, listen to affirmations, cut off negativity, do dopamine detox etcetera. Life's just better when you are a chad, and yes that's so true. I see zero lie in that.

You aren't obligated to lookout for people who aren't fending for themselves.

Your perspective matters, if you think all men are shit you'll encounter a majority of men who are shit; if you think life sucks, it will continue sucking; if you think math is hard, it will continue being hard for you to grasp. So think 'my life is on easy mode' and watch things switch. Law of assumption is powerful.

Choose the right people: certain people bring a certain side out of you. The chirpy & secure ones make you feel secure in yourself, the naysayers bring out a more self-doubting side out of you, the spiritual ones help you get in touch with your own spiritual side. I chose to be around softer people this time, not edgy, not cold, not harsh, not judgmental. I was around accepting, kind, generous, gentle, softer people and I felt a whole shift in my own aura, I feel more confident than ever, more accepting towards myself and I am gentler to the other people I meet. Choose the table you want to sit on and be affiliated to, because that's who you'll become and that's what your external & internal narrative will turn into.

I hope this resonates with some of you and gives you some perspective.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

One Single Thread of Gold Tied Me to You

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 12

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

4.5k words

Warnings: Language, angst and pining, broken hearts, fluff!, very light allusions to smut

A/N: I can't believe it's finished! I loved exploring this story and getting to share it with you. Thanks for letting me do something a little different that brought me so much joy.

And major thank you- as always- to my beautiful, darling @agentstarkid. Thank you for your constant friendship and support- and for helping me figure out the social media bits! I couldn't have finished this story without you, May. You are truly the April to my Girlie ❤️

I hope you all enjoy the finale of I'll Write Your Name!

I fucking heard you, man.

I got to hear you tell Keeley Jones all about how you only did all of this to win her back.

I was going to that restaurant to tell you how I felt about you.

The words swirled in Roy’s head for what felt hours and hours, but was honestly not even a half hour. There was just far too much information for him to process; she wasn’t his friend anymore, she thought he still loved Keeley, she had feelings for him. His head pounded with her anger and pain. No matter how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut, all he could see was her distressed expression, the anguish in her eyes that hid behind her fiery rage. And- fuck- even with all that pain, she was still the most beautiful thing Roy’d ever laid eyes on.

“What am I doing?” he mumbled to himself, sitting straight up in bed.

What a fucking coward he was, lying in his hotel room, just letting her sit in all her tears and incorrect assumptions down the hall. Sure, she’d slammed a door in his face, but come the fuck on. What kind of man would he be if he didn’t at least fight to have her hear what he had to say? They’d laugh over the misunderstanding, he’d apologize (maybe she’d apologize for all the yelling, although Roy was fine with how unlikely that was), they’d both admit that there was something between them, and maybe, just maybe, Roy Kent would finally win.

Once again gripping those sunflowers in his fist, Roy made his way back down the hall to that familiar door, the one that had been slammed in his face and locked with finality. He rapped on it rapidly, begging her to open up.

But she didn’t.

Roy wasn’t sure how long he banged on the door, but he knew it was longer than necessary. Even after he knew she wasn’t opening up, he kept knocking, not caring how red his knuckles would be. Hell, he would’ve stayed there all night, knock, knock, knocking, if it weren’t for the bellhop who happened by.

“What d’you mean checked out?” Roy spat, brows furrowed.

The young man nodded, unfazed by Roy’s Roy-ness as he spoke. “Oui. She left not long ago. Said something about London.”

Roy’s head was cloudy as he ran his hands over his face. “Alright, fuck, fine,” he mumbled, more to himself than the bellhop. “Uh, merci,” he grunted before turning away. When he found himself back in front of his door, he hesitated, hand hovering over the doorknob.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

Grumbling under his breath, he whipped out his phone and punched in the familiar number.

“Keeley,” he growled. “We gotta go home.”

~

April stared at me, lips parted like she was thinking something she couldn’t bring herself to say.

“Yes?” I finally huffed, slouching into my seat and turning my gaze to the window, focusing on the writing on the wing of the plane.

Finally, she nudged me gently. “Where’s Roy?” She tried to keep her voice light and playful, a little teasing, but underneath I heard how heavy it was, loaded with interest.

“There’s no Roy.”

She laid a hand on my leg and leaned close, trying to get me to look at her. “What do you mean-”

“There’s no Roy,” I repeated, slouching lower.

In the window reflection, I could see April’s deep frown and cocked head. “But I thought-”

I whirled around, my voice low and rough. “There is no Roy.”

Immediately, I regretted my tone. We were snarky to each other, sarcastic, loved to tease. She enjoyed riling me up, and I loved to shoot back, mostly empty threats about her job. But we never actually got mad at each other. In the almost ten years we’d worked together- and become the best of friends in the process- we’d never had a single real argument. And I had probably never snapped at her the way I did right then and there on the plane.

April shrunk back, swallowing hard. Her eyes glistened with the same embarrassment and sadness I knew I was wearing. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not needing to be sorry at all.

Guilt settled in my stomach as I took her hand, gripping tightly. “You do not need to be sorry,” I assured her with a sigh. “I’m the bitch here, not you. I’m sorry.”

The silence was heavy between us as the plane took off, leaving behind the airport and Paris and Roy Kent. Thankfully, with the obnoxiously early hour I’d decided we had to leave, we’d had to forego a flight attendant, leaving the two of us completely alone. It meant no questions about why I was leaving without my “boyfriend”, or why I looked so incredibly, desperately miserable. Sure, I’d ended the “relationship”, but it wasn’t public. It couldn’t be public, not without talking to Lanie and Keeley, planning everything out.

Oh hell, my mind was reeling with thoughts of how I was supposed to tell Laney I was done with this, all the publicity this would bring- the kind she hated-, what it would be like having to face Roy in the stupid meetings we’d be dragged into.

For the millionth time since we'd met, April knew I was spiraling. She gave my hand a little squeeze and finally cut through the silence with her soft voice. “What happened?”

There were so many things I wanted to tell her. About overhearing him with Keeley, the way he’d appeared at my door, all the details about the night in Los Angeles that changed everything. But for a moment, all that could come out were the tears that streamed down my cheeks, hitting our hands like tiny bullets. Finally, I blurted out the only words that I could manage-

“He doesn’t love me.”

~

~

After two days of calling and texting, Roy finally realized she wasn’t answering him- in fact, she’d blocked him. On everything. He’d gone by her house more than once, only to be left on a quiet porch each time. He’d even tried peeking into her windows; there wasn’t even any sign of Syndey the cat.

Well, he thought as he once again climbed into his car after another failed attempt to knock on her front door. Desperate times call for desperate fucking measures.

Within the hour, he was at Jamie Tartt’s house, of all places. And leaning on the kitchen island, glaring at him with fire in her eyes, was April.

“Fuck d’you mean you won’t tell me where she is?” Roy said- repeated, actually- as he shook his head.

The assistant shrugged coldly, turning her attention to the magazine Jamie’s pretty face graced the cover of. “I’m not telling you a thing, Kent.” Her eyes flickered back to him. “Not a fucking thing.”

Roy groaned and let his head fall into his hands. He liked April, he really fucking did, and he thought she liked him just fine. They’d been thrown together a good bit, what with him fake-dating her boss and her real-dating Jamie. He admired her poise and her dedication to her work, although he did question her taste in men almost as much as he did her boss. Still, April was kind and funny and clever, undoubtedly the kind of friend a glamorous pop star needed to keep grounded.

But now, she looked at Roy like she was going to grab one of Jamie’s expensive knives and stab him with it. Thankfully, Jamie, who was desperately trying to catch up, laid a gentle hand on her hand, probably saving Roy’s life.

“April,” Roy growled in a low voice, frustration dripping from each syllable. “I need to fucking talk to her.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I think you’ve talked enough, don’t you?”

The groan that rumbled in Roy’s throat could have woken a dead man. “She fucking misunderstood,” Roy tried to explain. “I was- fuck- I was telling Keeley that my feelings had changed.” He spoke fast, embarrassed to be so fucking vulnerable. “I don’t know what happened- but ever since that night in L.A.- hell, maybe even before that-” He stopped, scowling at April and Jamie. “Don’t know why I’m telling you two. She’s the one I need to talk to.”

Somewhere in there, April had softened, cocking her head at Roy. “Your feelings changed?” she repeated softly. “And what are those feelings now, Kent?”

He sighed, ignoring Jamie’s confused gaze. “I mean… I love her. That’s… that’s what I wanted to tell her that night. But then she started yelling at me, slammed the fucking door in my face.”

April chuckled, the first friendly sound Roy had heard since he pushed his way into Jamie’s house. “Yeah, sounds like her.” She studied Roy’s face, her eyes trailing over his earnest features until she found… whatever she was looking for. “You love her then?”

Roy nodded solemnly. “I do,” he admitted. “I really fucking do.”

After a moment of silence, April took out her phone and began typing. “I don’t know where she is,” she started slowly. Seeing the defeat on Roy’s face, she continued, “She just said, ‘Syd and I need a break’ and took off. But she did post this to her stories.” She turned her phone to Roy, who grabbed it with more force than he intended.

“Hi all,” that familiar voice greeted.

Fuck, Roy’d missed her face. Her eyes, her lips, everything. He missed her smile most of all, but he only saw a ghost of it on the screen.

She continued, strumming the guitar he just realized she was holding. “I was hoping to take these couple of weeks to just relax and do nothing. But of course, when do I ever take a break?” Her laugh was hollow. “I’ve got something new to share with you all. Hope you like it.”

Her face was so serene and sad as she began to play the quiet tune, and her melancholy voice tugged at Roy’s already broken heart-

Hand on the throttle

Thought I caught lightning in a bottle

Oh, but it's gone again

And it was written

I got cursed like Eve got bitten

Oh, was it punishment?

Pad around when I get home

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope

A greater woman wouldn't beg

Every word out of her mouth stabbed at Roy, adding to all the guilt and regret he’d been carrying for the last few days. He had hoped- suspected, even- that some of the songs on Calamitous Love were about him. This one? Oh, there was no fucking doubt this one was about him.

Please I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

Let it once be me

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo the prophecy?

As he tried to remember the last time he felt so fucking miserable, something clicked in his brain. He looked past her and her guitar, to the barely visible green background. He squinted and pulled the phone so close his nose brushed against the screen; could it be…?

“I know where she is.” Roy quickly slid the phone back to April, who gazed at him with wide, expectant eyes. “If she tells you she’s coming home or anything, you let me know right away, alright?” He slid his jacket back on over his shoulders, fishing his car keys out of the pocket. “Don’t fucking tell her I’m coming, she’ll just run away. Just… make sure she stays put.”

As he hustled out with barely so much as a glance behind him, he heard Jamie’s voice, full of his signature confusion.

“What the fuck happened in Paris?”

~

~

The late afternoon sunlight danced on the lake, reminding me of the lights that nearly blinded me onstage every night. It felt surreal, being back in this spot, all alone this time. Everything felt exactly the same- the little shops and houses that sprinkled the opposite shore, the trees that stretched towards the sky, the grass that tried to poke up from under my blanket. Even the birds sang familiar tunes that mixed with the ones I messed with on my guitar. It was just like the last time I was here, a little paradise, hidden from the world.

The only thing missing was Roy.

Forget him, I told myself for the millionth time since I’d first arrived with Sydney under my arm. That’s what I needed to do, forget about stupid Roy Kent and his stupid smile and his stupid kisses and his stupid voice, that growl that always made my heart skip a beat, the voice that-

“Sunshine.”

I closed my eyes, hoping that I was imagining things, that I wouldn’t turn around and see those deep brown eyes and clenched jaw that had become so familiar to me. No, no way. Just like my heart was not slamming in my chest at the mere thought of that man who was completely and totally in love with someone else-

“Sunshine.”

There was no mistaking it this time; I wasn’t imagining things.

Bracing myself against the blanket- the same one we’d shared on this same spot- I turned around, ready to yell again, ready to tell Roy Kent to leave, to get out of my life, forever this time.

Instead, those brown eyes froze every inch of my body.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in days- not like I was sleeping much either- and his hands fidgeted worse than I’d ever seen. When he exhaled, his breath came out raggedy, as if he’d been running on that shitty knee of his. And that frown was deep, etched into his face harshly.

But his eyes were bright, almost sparkling as they bore into mine. He knelt down, eyebrows raised, and cocked his head at me, waiting to let me speak first.

“What are you doing here?” I asked softly, trying to hide the tremble in my fingertips as I set my guitar to the side. “Shouldn’t you be with Keeley?”

His frown deepened as he shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t.” He reached out and touched one of my hands gently. “I should be right here. With you.”

I shook my head and pulled my hand out of his grasp, begging myself not to cry in front of him. Not again. “I heard you. In the restaurant. Telling her that you only agreed to his fake relationship because you love her-”

“Loved,” he corrected immediately. “I agreed because I was in love with her. But I fell out of it pretty quickly once… once you and I…” He trailed off, eyes searching mine.

“You never told me,” I murmured, looking down at the blanket and picking at it. “You… you should’ve told me. That you were doing this for Keeley.”

A grunt rumbled in Roy’s chest as he sat down properly, letting his knee bump mine. “Fuck, well, I suppose I should have,” he agreed slowly. “But by the time we were friends- the kind of friends who tell each other that kind of thing- it stopped mattering to me. And I never thought about how it would matter to you.” He cocked his head thoughtfully. “Why does it matter to you, sunshine?” His tongue darted out between his lips nervously, as though something hinged on my answer.

“Because, like you said, we’re friends.” I cleared my throat. “And friends tell each other shit.”

He nodded, eyes burning my face. “Friends,” he repeated. Finally, he reached out to touch my hand again, not moving even when I flinched at his touch. “And what were you coming to that restaurant to tell me?”

The air left my lungs as I stared at him, at those hopeful brown eyes and raised eyebrows. “I… was coming to tell you…” I shook my head, unable to form the words.

His thumb stroked my hand gently. “Was it the same thing I came to your room to tell you?”

“That depends.” I exhaled sharply. “What were you coming to tell me?”

“I was coming to tell you that I’m done pretending to love you.” He leaned closer, closer, until his breath ghosted over my quivering lips. “And I was wondering if you’d let me love you for real.” I could almost feel his smile against my mouth. “What were you going to tell me?”

My eyes fluttered, unable to focus on anything much longer. “That I stopped pretending a long time ago.”

It was the hundredth time I’d kissed Roy Kent. Or the thousandth. Maybe the millionth. But oh, this one was different. It was a first kiss of sorts, timid and unsure, but full of an almost painful longing. The kind of kiss I could write a whole album about. And probably would, if I was being honest.

His hand left mine so he could take me by the waist, pulling me closer, like that afternoon we’d shared all those months ago. I allowed him to pull me into his lap, not hesitating one moment to press myself against him, swallowing his soft breaths like my life depended on it. His hands were everywhere- my hips, my arms, my hair- as though he was trying to keep me from running away again. But I knew that, from now on, there was no more running away. Not from Roy Kent.

~

Roy couldn’t believe how perfect her hand felt in his as they made their way back to the house- the same house he had found for their holiday. They kept glancing at each other, exchanging shy smiles and soft chuckles each time they were caught. The afternoon light hit her even more ethereally than he remembered, haloing that beautiful face and making her eyes sparkle even more than usual. Then again, maybe they were sparkling with love.

Love, he thought with another one of those little breathy chuckles. Oh hell, she loved him. This was real. No misunderstandings, no running away, no getting scared. Just love.

Sydney the cat eyed him as he walked through that familiar front door, slowly making her way over to him before rubbing herself against his shins.

“Hello, lovely,” he hummed, crouching down to give her a proper greeting. “Missed you almost as much as I missed your mum.” He looked up, finding a soft smile. “And I missed her a lot.”

She giggled as Roy straightened himself up. “Did you now?”

He nodded, letting his hands rest on her hips. “More than you know.” He kissed her gently, with a timidness he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. But he liked the way it felt. “I’ve got something for you by the way. It’s in the car, can I go grab it?”

“Depends.” She tugged playfully at his jacket, batting her eyes at him. “You’re coming back?”

“Try and fucking stop me,” he growled, planting another kiss to those pouting lips.

In a flash, Roy had jogged to his car and come back, carrying a-

“Is that a guitar?” She raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief and nodded to the case he carried. “Was I that good of a piano teacher? You want guitar lessons now?”

Roy laughed, shaking his head at her. Fuck, he loved how effortlessly she could make him laugh. “Maybe I should take you up on that,” he mused, following her over to the couch in the little sitting room. “But no, this… this is for you. I found it a while ago, but it just arrived. Was on my porch when I got back from Paris.” He placed it down at her feet and shrugged. “Open it.”

With a smile on her face, she did as she was told. The guitar she pulled out was old and worn, clearly loved by someone. Her brow furrowed adorably as she examined it, trying to discern why Roy had bought this guitar for her. As fun as it was to watch her puzzle, he couldn’t leave her in suspense for too long.

“That guitar,” he explained, “belonged to Linda Ronstadt.”

She nearly dropped the damn thing. “What?” She gaped at Roy, her joyful surprise lighting up his own face with a smile. “Roy, this is incredible.”

He shrugged, suddenly bashful. “I just… knew you’d appreciate it.” He reached out and brushed some loose hair out of her face. “I like seeing you happy.”

With tender care, she placed the guitar back in its case before turning to face him. “Well, if you like seeing me happy,” she started with a teasing smile. “Maybe you’d want to go on a date with me? A real one. No paparazzi, not as a celebrity couple.” She took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. “Just us.”

“I think that can be arranged,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her lips. After a moment, he pulled back, cocking his head at her. “Just… maybe give April a call first? That assistant of yours is pretty fucking worried about you. And I’d like her to stop being cross with me, if you don’t mind.” He leaned close, touching his forehead to hers. “Almost as scary as you, that one.”

Her twinkling laugh was like music to his ears. Her music, actually. “Fine, I’ll give April a call.” She pecked his nose. “And after that…?”

Roy nodded. “We go on our first fucking date.”

~

The Amsterdam crowd was deafening as I situated myself in front of the microphone, all smiles as I soaked in the sight of their joyful faces. All I had done was asked if they were having a good time; apparently, they were. Even though I’d had an admittedly blissful two weeks off from the tour, I couldn’t have been happier to be back onstage.

“So, I’m sure you’re hoping I’ll play something from Calamitous Love,” I finally said. More screams as I laughed. “I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but I’m actually playing something different.” My eyes made their way to the VIP tent, where Roy’s gaze was on me, soft and full of complete adoration. “It’s something new that I wrote during my break. Inspired by someone… special.” I strummed my guitar and smiled broadly at him. “I love you,” I mouthed.

My heart skipped a beat when he mouthed it back.

“This is Daylight.”

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

Everyone looked worse in the light

There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

I knew my smile was embarrassingly wide, the kind of smile a teenage girl wears around the star football player. But then again, Roy’s smile was just as wide and his furious blush was evident even with the stage lights in my eyes.

And I can still see it all in my mind

All of you, all of me intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white

But it's golden, golden

As I sang, I thought back to the moment I met Roy. To when he’d scowled and snarked at me on the elevator at Keeley’s office, establishing himself in my mind as the most loathsome man I’d ever met. And how, with each passing day, he went from detestable, to tolerable, to one of my best friends- to the man I couldn’t live without now.

Keeley had come clean to the both of us about her intentions: She manipulated and pushed us together until we felt the same spark she saw that very first day in her office. All the sleepovers, dates, the holiday, insisting that Roy join me at my niece’s birthday, all of it had been to push us closer and closer until one of us finally cracked.

The woman was a freaking mastermind.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

At the end of the show, Roy was in his usual waiting spot, that big smile making his eyes crinkle in the corners. Not for the first time, I threw myself into his arms, acutely aware of the way his hands gripped me tightly, fingers digging into the material of my bodysuit.

“You were brilliant,” he huffed before taking my chin to tilt my face to his. “Absolutely brilliant.”

His words, his touch, the adoration in his eyes- all of it had me more breathless than the two hours I’d just spent onstage. “Did you like the song?” I murmured, ignoring the shouts and screams and the sight of April trying to urge me to go behind the curtain. The only thing I wanted to focus on was Roy.

He seemed to be in the same giddy headspace, because, instead of guiding me towards the exit like he’d done at other shows, he just nodded dreamily. “Fucking loved it,” he assured me, brushing his nose against mine. “And who, may I ask, was that one about?”

As if it wasn’t obvious.

“Some guy,” I teased, letting my fingers brush against his curly hair. “My songs are always about some guy, didn’t you know that?”

Roy’s chuckle rumbled warmly against my body. “Some guy, eh? Lucky prick.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, prompting shrieks from the fans who were watching us. I sighed against his mouth, unable to believe that this kiss was real, that we were real- that my life was real.

While I could have spent all night standing there, my dancers giggling at us as they walked past, Roy had the good sense to break the kiss and wrap an arm around my shoulder so we could escape the eyes and calls of my fans. He eyed my tiny bodysuit, eyebrow quirked in a way that had a heated blush spreading over my skin.

“D’you think ‘some guy’ could convince you to bring this outfit back to the hotel?” he growled in my ear.

I shook my head at him and smirked, knocking my hip against his. “I’m sure that could be arranged,” I teased. “After all, I only wore this one so you could take it off.”

Now it was Roy’s turn to blush as his grip tightened, clearly biting back a goofy grin. “You should write that down, sunshine. Put it in a song.” He kissed the top of my head. “What a fucking mind,” he sighed.

Still giggling at his adoring praise, I urged Roy on, practically skipping through the stadium with him. I knew I still had to greet some fans and take some photos before we could leave, but my mind was already back at the hotel, where room service and a warm bed would be waiting.

Waiting for me and my muse.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene@emmaallisonann@mrdsturd@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@charkachow@mrdsturd@littlepinapple@sunfairyy@shadowzena43@uhmidkmuch@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme@alicedsworld@222333777@thegivenvoid @tortilla-maria1@treblebeth@maackiimoo@di-essere-amato@sortzz@i-am-mrsreckless@dreadfuljas@klaudosh@adri4na @hopewithfeathers1

[rosykims]

im a eurydice = solas truther btw and ill die for my beliefs

be so serious........ and lavellan as orpheus......

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[sarcasmchandlerbing]

Now this is what has to happen in the playoffs (according to me and my wishes) and also I will predict the outcome:

Florida Panthers has to beat the scary opponent. They can. They have the change. It might be a tough round 2 with these two and I will be scared. I hope I'm not going to start to hate the opposing team if they manage to win. Go Panthers! ❤

Carolina Hurricanes needs to get rid of of the big bad wolf. I am so scared of them (the big bad wolf) winning this whole thing it's not even funny. They can. Easily. Nothing can't stop them. But I hope Hurricanes can! I want Hurricanes to win so bad but I think the others might win 😬 I hope I am so wrong about this one! Go Hurricanes! ❤

Dallas Stars need to beat the other team. Who I think will win? Well, this might be a tough battle they are going to have. It could go either way I think. Go Stars! 💚

Vancouver Canucks, you have one job. To destroy the team which has already won in the past. No need for it again. So please please Canucks, win this. I don't know about this one, the enemies might win. Hope I'm wrong again! Go Canucks! 💙

[mareestoermers]

i think we are all forgetting something when we talk about how toxic patrick, tashi, and art are — or when we decide one is “worse” than the other. they all have moments of seeing right through it, seeing each other’s toxic behavior for what it is, and STILL want and need each other in this possessive, envious, visceral way.

1. in the way beginning, tashi is clearly flirting more with art than patrick, and patrick is visibly annoyed. art sees right through it and even challenges him like “okay, let’s leave”, and has this little smirk on his face because he knows patrick won’t give up on tashi.

2. tashi immediately sees the visible tension and love between art and patrick, and literally orchestrates their first kiss. she sees right through their repression, and even calls herself a “home-wrecker” but still entangles herself with them, especially patrick because he’s clearly the better tennis player at that point and that is tash’s ONLY true love. tennis. that’s what she desires most in him, and patrick knows that. he even calls her out on it in the dorm room scene. but they have this mirroring fire in each other that neither of them can give up, not until patrick breaks the balance and bails — tashi’s injury is literally a metaphor for the balance shattering between all three of them when patrick leaves her.

3. before this, patrick sees right through art trying to break them up, and even admires that quality — maybe even feels smug and flattered because art is jealous and feels left out from both tashi and patrick. patrick has known this all along, we saw it in the “tick-serve” scene, where he even swears to tashi he won’t tell anyone but he still tells art, who is desperate to feel a part of them and patrick wants that, too — even keeps that close intimacy with art that we see in the churro scene (swoon swoon swoon).

4. haven’t you noticed that arts desire to be great is only ever tied up in patrick and tashi? how he needs to beat patrick to win tashis affection, how he needs to win in tennis so that tashi can live through him, how he lives up to his potential in the ending only because tashi and patrick push him to it, in their little fucked up ways? he knows this — he even admits that he’s playing for tashi, that he knows she’s living through him. he even admits he’s playing a fucked up little game with patrick when they’re in the sauna. yet he still does it. again, he knows what’s happening, sees right through them — still does it, still loves them.

5. when tashi calls patrick to come pick her up he knows it’s not just to tell him to throw the match — and despite how she battles him about it, they still have sex in the car, because he already knows. he’s so fully aware of her and her game and he’s so willing to be caught up in it, the same as art.

just some examples of how they all have moments of clarity and agency and yet they still choose to be entangled in one another because they’re all fucked up in their own, individual ways, and they’re all living through each other for their own specific needs. arts is to be seen as worthy, as great, but only through their gaze. tashis is to have the career that was stolen from her. patricks is truly to be in love and in lust with both of them, because we even see that from the beginning that tashis love alone will never satiate him; it has to be arts love, too. that scene in the sauna when he thinks he’s lost it from art is the most sad and fucked up we ever even see patrick. on top of tashi asking him to throw the game — he’s so defensive of arts feelings.

in short this is an actual love triangle (and i would go as far as to see it as a polyship). you can’t erase one without the whole thing unraveling, and you can’t say one character was the “worst” without picking apart the motivations and pointing to the fact that their bad behavior was never a secret or left unchecked.

even at the end, patrick signals to art that he slept with tashi — art knows and they still have that intimate completion at the end, all three of them. art living up to his potential and embracing patrick fully (id argue this could even be a metaphor for embracing his bisexuality), patrick having both tashi and arts affection again, and tashi playing a phenomenal tennis match through her little white boys — in such a visceral, emotional way that she cries out like she did in the beginning and the last frame is her smiling.

in a fucked up way, they all get what they wanted out of each other.

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

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situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[prlssprfctn]

The first time, Tim notices someone observing them from afar, it is when they are all settled for a brief dinner together. It is the middle of the week, and Bruce gathered all of them together to... relax. Which is strange but not unwelcome. Everyone is so involved in chattering and bantering that they don't notice a lingering gaze through the window; they don't, but Tim does.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out that it is Jason.

He is not sure if Bruce reached for him to invite, and Jason just declined, or there was no offer to begin with, but Tim knows for sure Jason lurkes behind windows for a few minutes before disappearing in the night.

And the funniest thing? Tim understands him.

He thinks he is not Jason's replacement — never truly was, despite what the other thought — but in a way, they did swap their places. Because in the past, it was Tim, who hid on the rooftops, staring at Bruce and his family, listening to the snippets of their conversations. And now it is Jason.

It is still different, of course. Tim had a choice, and it was his... enthusiastic project, if anything — Jason doesn't really. But if anyone understands the feeling of standing far away from everyone, it is still Tim.

That's why the next time in happens, Tim reaches out.

It is after the particularly easy mission, when Tim spots the red motion on the rooftop. He slips away from Nightwing and Robin, who debate about something with Batman through the comms, and finds himself standing behind Red Hood.

The way Red Hood taps his fingertips on the balustrade makes Tim remember that he is not included in their comms anymore. He wonders how lonely it is, to hear the voices of his brothers, but never being able to grasp the whole conversation they have.

'Hood,' he calls for him.

To Jason's credit, he doesn't scramble in panic, even if it seems that he is surprised by his appearance.

'Red,' he mutters back, instantly defensive. 'What, came to mock me?'

Tim rolls his eyes; he wishes things would be easier with Jason, but they are not, and he can't really blame him for that.

'Had I ever mocked you?' He copies his stance, arms folding in the chest. When Jason tilts his head, almost asking, "Really now?" Tim rolls his eyes again. 'Okay, I did a few times. But it mostly were jokes about your death.'

Jason chuckles.

'Good one, punk. It changes everything.'

'You like jokes about your death,' Tim protests. 'And I know you allow Arsenal to joke about it, so it is not entirely closed topic.'

'I don't remember allowing you to joke about it, though.'

...

This conversation is so fucking stupid. Tim didn't even came here for this, but-

But fine. He still can win.

'So, you only allow it to your friends. Fine. Let's be friends,' Jason chokes on his own exhausted sigh. 'Do you need some friendship questionnaires to fill to be my friend? I can arrange that.'

Jason kindly flips him off under his breath before disappearing in the night, leaving him alone with whining Nightwing and irritated Bruce in his ear.

The next time he stalks down Jason, who in turn is stalking Damian and Bruce, he shoves in his hand twenty three papers filled with bunch of friendship questions — half stripped from internet, half made by Tim that involve the specifics of their jobs.

He doesn't expect anything to come after it, but in two weeks after Jason returns to the city after his mission with Outlaws, Tim finds these papers filled with surprisingly neat, calligraphic answers.

And he gets the printed copy of the same questions, with one page of an additional one, written in the same handwriting, and with a little sticky note atop of it.

Your turn, Timbo.

Tim smirks.

Oh, he will so drag Jason back in the family, somehow.

[wonderthor]

your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.

“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”

he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”

he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.

“you sure about that?”

you confidentially smirk back at him.

“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”

sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.

“how about we make a bet.”

“a bet? on what?”

“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”

“and what do i get when i win?”

sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

you roll your eyes at him.

“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”

he laughs at you again.

“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”

you take another sip of your drink and lean back.

“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”

“what do you want?”

his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.

“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”

he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.

“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”

time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.

“what do you m-mean by that?”

he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.

“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”

a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.

it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.

but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.

when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.

“guess i win, sweetheart.”

[be-xkyy]

Tw: unprotected sex, rough sex, jealousy, mild abuse, insults, reader bimbo.

Yandere bf! Jock who is the star captain of the school's football team.

He is truly the golden boy.

With his gorgeous smile, blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair. He is surrounded by girls constantly, beautiful girls but he only has eyes for his dumb cute cheerleader girlfriend, YOU.

Always sucking his dick before a game letting him film you as he cums all over your face, pumping his cock until ropes of thick cum paint your face ruining your makeup and staining your hair, he rubs his cock against your shiny lips.

“Ugh– that was so good– what do you say sweetie?”

“Thanks for cumming on my face daddy~”

He smiles when he sees you cheering him on during the game jumping up and down, he licks his lips when he sees your cute little ass and tits bouncing in that tight uniform, you wiggle your pom poms vigorously and blow him a kiss when you see him looking at you. So fucking sweet.

The one who fucks you in the empty locker room after every game, fucking you sweetly when he wins, sucking on your tits, leaving kisses and bites all over your neck as his cock buries deep inside you, he murmurs sweet nothings against your ear.

“Such a pretty girl– so sexy when she cheers on her man”

“God your pussy wants some attention, should I rub it? Of course she wants to fuck– she begs me to rub it”

“I'm gonna give you the best orgasm of your life babe, you'll be full of my cum until next week– Ha”

Oh... but when the team loses he's completely different.

Like now.

He drags you down the halls walking straight to the locker room pushing you inside roughly ignoring your whimper of pain as he locks the door, you rub your arm and try to talk to him “Baby that hurts–”

“Shut the fuck up bitch! What the fuck was that out there?! Were you flirting with the captain of the other team?!”

His voice is filled with anger, he looks at you with furious eyes and you try to back away when he gets closer which seems to annoy him more, he grabs you by the arms pushing you face down on the bench and growls against your hatred.

“Answer me fuck! What the fuck were you doing talking to him? Do you want to bounce on his dick just because he won? Huh?!”

“No! I just wanted to be nice–”.

“Liar! Shit you want to drive me crazy, is that it?! I'm not an idiot I know what I see!”

He yells at you not even letting you finish, he pulls down your extra shorts and panties hard scratching your legs, his hand quickly pulls out his cock the vein running through it is swollen and the weeping tip is red.

“I'm gonna fuck you until you come to your senses you stupid girl. There's no one like me! I'm the only one who would want a girl as dumb as you!”

With that he rams you in all the way, his cock touching your cervix and his balls slapping against your ass, he fucks you mercilessly as his hands squeeze your ass cheeks his fingers dig into your skin tomorrow you'll have bruises.

“Silly girl, acting like a whore... like she doesn't have her man watching her”

Annoyed murmurs escape his lips as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, you let out high pitched moans hiding your face in your arms, he fucks you like he wants to rearrange your insides. Your eyes roll back with each thrust that abuses your G-spot.

“Who’s the only one for you? Come on tell me who’s fucking you so good?”

He asks between gasps and grunts clearly getting close to the edge, your dumb brain takes a while to understand his question not being able to think of anything else but his cock deep inside your pussy, you reply between moans.

“You! You’re the only one for my daddy! You, you, you!”

“Good girl, at least you’re smart about something~”

Your walls clench at his words and you squeeze your eyes shut, your skin is hot and you feel fire in your veins, the orgasm is approaching and your toes curl as you cum your love juices wet his cock.

He growls as your walls clench tightly around his throbbing cock and as his body tenses with the impending orgasm he pulls out of your pussy pumping furiously as he explodes, covering your ass and back with his hot cum that stains your top.

“Shit— that was great, that's a nice pussy you have baby”

He says as he smears his cum all over your back and ass with his fingers and you hum tiredly but happily, the moment interrupted when someone tries to open the closed door, the handle turning vigorously.

“What are you doing in there? Open the door right now!”

Damn it, it's the coach...

[no-144444]

quick tweet, big problem- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar are together, but the world doesn't need to know you're engaged. lando decides they do.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! kravitz! reader

(context in case you don't know him: ted kravitz is a skyf1 presenter)

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“Red flag, red flag, come in,” Tom said.

Annoyance surged through him. This race was not going his way at all. He started slowing down, following closely behind Lawson. “Who’s off?”

“Colapinto,” he explained. “It’s a big one, probably a 20 to 30 minute red flag.”

For fucks sake. Oscar had told them it was too dangerous. They didn’t listen. He paid the price. Now Max was up into p2, and Lando was stuck in p5. Oscar couldn’t even do anything to help. He grunted, getting out of the car and following Tom back to the garage. 

He was ushered over to his engineers, but honestly all he wanted was to see you. Being Lando’s race engineer, Oscar had seen you around the paddock in some of his first weeks and befriended you, on top of that, he’d fallen madly in love with you and asked you out 11 months ago. You two had been going out for 11 months now, and, while he could see you between the screens as his engineers and Andrea gave him advice about the race, he kind of tuned them out, too busy staring at you.

“Jesus, loverboy, just go say hi and come back, alright? We need you thinking with your head, not your dick,” Zak scoffed, finally allowing him to see you. 

Quickly, Oscar rounded the corner of the desk and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on the top of yours. You didn’t stop talking to Lando, explaining the plan for the rest of the race. 

“But I fucking said to stay out,” Lando whined. 

“No, you told us to box you. We told you to stay out,” you explained, your voice calm. 

Lando just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” then walked off to go brood somewhere else. 

“Shitty weather, eh?” you mused.

“Awful,” he nodded. 

“Is that sweat or rain?” you asked, feeling how wet he truly was. 

“Both,” he sighed. He knew there were about forty cameras on the two of you. Moments between you two that the public saw were few and far between. You liked it that way. He liked it that way. Privacy was something he essentially gave up when he became a public figure, but that didn’t mean you had to. “How’s Lando doing?”

“He’s just pissed away his chance at World Champion,” you took a deep breath, leaning into him. “And I’ll be the one he screams at during the end of the race. I’ll be the one having to explain it to Zak, and I won’t get home until probably tomorrow. And my dad is staring at us.”

Oscar groaned. “Fucking hate dealing with this shit.” 

You nodded. “Me too. But at least there’s no race for two weeks.” 

“We’re off to Melbourne,” he reminded you. “Have to do the family rounds, since we’re engaged,” he beamed. Over the last break, Oscar had proposed. It was the happiest moment of your lives (closely followed by Oscar’s win in Baku), and now you were on your way to visit his extended family for the first time. Since he’d met most of your family (especially considering Ted Kravitz was your father and Oscar met him before he met you), it was only fair that you make the trip and meet his.

Before that though, you had to get through today. 

“You’d better go chat with your engineers,” you took your hands off his. “Zak is giving me dirty looks.”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t want to.” 

You chuckled. “Go,” you urged him. “If you get higher than p9 I’ll give you a kiss at the end of the race.”

“Good deal,” he pondered. “Or I could just kiss you now,” and with that, he pressed his lips to yours quickly, before running off to his side of the garage. 

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Lando was an idiot, but he was Oscar's idiot, so you didn't kill him. You knew it was only a matter of time before someone slipped up, whether it be your dad, you, or Oscar. You didn't suspect it would be Lando, though. You did enjoy watching Oscar shout at him though. That was pretty funny.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[100vern]

hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌

tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡

— we need to talk

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3

Seungcheol is incensed.

What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?

Who the fuck had invited you?

He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.

But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—

Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”

Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”

Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.

Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”

As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.

And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.

Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.

But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.

And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.

So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.

Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.

Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.

That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.

Right.

Of course.

That was to be expected.

So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.

But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.

He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.

And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”

Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.

“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”

The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.

Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.

And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.

You don’t want more.

You don’t want the label and the relationship.

You don’t want him.

He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.

Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”

Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”

“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.

Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”

Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”

The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”

True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.

Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle

Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.

Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight

Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.

For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.

Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.

But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.

Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?

Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?

Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?

God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.

Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off

He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.

Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.

You (23:41) Something wrong?

Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.

Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?

But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.

Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.

And god does it kill him.

You (23:44) Don’t act stupid

A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.

You (23:44) Mingyu invited me

Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.

Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes

You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.

You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself

Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.

“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”

Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.

Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”

“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”

Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.

This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.

“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.

Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”

Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.

He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.

Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.

Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.

What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.

The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”

“Seungcheol—”

He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”

You gasp. “No.”

“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.

“I wasn’t—”

A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”

Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”

Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”

Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.

But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—

“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?

He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.

“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.

Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”

Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”

Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”

“What?”

You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”

Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”

“To—to to-touch me.”

You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”

“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”

“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”

You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”

“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”

“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”

All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”

Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—

Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.

You’ve ruined him.

Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—

Loves.

Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.

Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ‘drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?

“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—

“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—

He can’t bring himself to say it.

But he can—“Can I show you instead?”

Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.

Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.

He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.

Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.

He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”

You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”

He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”

Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”

This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.

Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.

“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”

“No shit—”

He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.

He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—

“Do it right, Cheol, please—”

And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”

The rest is muscle memory.

The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.

Tastes a lot like I love you.

“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”

The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.

“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.

“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”

You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”

I love you.

You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.

He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.

You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.

“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.

Maybe it was never like this before.

Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.

So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.

This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”

This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.

This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.

“Say it again.”

Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.

The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.

He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Okay?”

You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.

Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.

“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”

A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.

“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”

He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”

He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”

No, it was never like this.

[shanesevikasfuckdoll]

Surprising Sevika with nipple piercings

Imagine teasing Sevika about getting nipple piercings, and when she goes on a 2 week business trip, you surprise her with it.

Warning: Smut

🚫Men and Minors Dni🚫

"Babe, I'm serious! I think they'll look cool!" You say to Sevika, trying to convince her it's a good Idea to get your nipples pierced. "Plus, you have that lip piercing, and you look cool as hell, babe!" She rolls her eyes at you, clearly not persuaded by your efforts of convincing her. "Who said they don't look cool? But I assure you. It'll hurt." She wasn't entirely against it, but the thought of not being able to play with your tits for more than 3 days was inevitably going to drive her insane. Also, she hated seeing you in pain, and would probably have to deal with you, while you were sore.

That was her argument, atleast. You shut up about it for awhile, thinking about the pain. Contemplating on whether you should disobey her or not. But the more you thought about it, the more enticing the thought had been. You could NOT die, without getting a nipple piercing, and you already made up your mind. You have to get those piercings.

A month has passed since the conversation, yet you were still looking for ways to get that piercing without Sevika noticing right away. You wanted it to be a gift for her, since her birthday was coming up in 11 months anyways. (That's just what you said to yourself to make you feel a little better for going against her.) Regardless, you were getting it one way or another. You just have to make sure she doesn't catch on to you plan beforehand, so she doesn't threaten every piercing and tattoo shop within a 20 mile radius, to refuse serving you. You had to think smarter somehow.

You couldn't think of a single thing to bypass Sevika. Even if you tried.

- "Babe, I'm going shopping, want anything?

"I'll go with you."

- "Babe, I'm gonna meet up with some friends, I might be home late."

"I'm coming with you."

- "Babe, I'm going to take out the trash"

"I'll do it."

- "I can't stand you! I need some fresh air." She grabs your wrist, and pins you down, and kiss you where you stand, giving you a night of passion, and falling asleep in her arms. ending with you still being with her at the end of the day with her death grip that comes with her cuddles.

You tried everything, anything that you could do to make Sevika not suspicious of you. It was a success, she was not suspicious at all, but the reason being you couldn't get past her at all. And you come to the realization of how clingy your girlfriend truly is. You don't mind it, you love it actually, but you just wanna be rebellious and surprise your girlfriend, but now even thinking of it, it seems hard to do.

Until 3 months later, the opportunity was handed to you on silver platter.

"Babe!" You girlfriend shouts from the living room. You quickly run to her, worried something happened, but she just stood there with a briefcase brought to her by Silco. She was making a serious transaction, and she was the only person Silco trusts to do the job well. The job that requires her to leave you for 2 weeks, since the shipment was in Bilgewater. She explains.

"I'll call you everyday babe, I promise. I'll make this up to you when I get home, okay?" She caresses you face, and kisses your cheek, and your forehead, and you try to give her your best poker face, trying to hide your excitement from her. You just pout, and coo at her "Aww, baby, I'm gonna miss you. Before you go, I'm gonna make you your lunch, okay, bubba? Oh, my poor sweetheart, I'll miss you every night, call me okay?" Of course, you are still going to miss your girlfriend. But there was also opportunities to it. For you and her. A win-win situation, really.

You pack her lunch, and send her off with a long kiss, and hug. You stand at your door, and see her walking away, as you wave her goodbye. And once she turned the corner, you shut the door behind you, and you squealed and jumped in excitement.

You go put on some loud music, and open a beer, eat your snacks, and make an appointment tomorrow, 4pm sharp. You dance in your apartment, and get drunk thinking 'tomorrow's gonna be a breeze.'

You text Sevika goodnight, and you fall asleep, happily ever after.

Except. Tomorrow was NOT gonna be a breeze. You woke up at the sound of your alarm clock at 9am. You shut it off with a loud groan. You feel your head pounding, and you just lay there and sulk. Missing your Sevi, and the bad headache. You go to her side of the bed, and smell her pillows, thinking to yourself 'Janna, I miss her. I should call her'

You check your phone to see 2 messages from Sevika from this morning with a selfie, and a text saying 'Just got here. Sleepy as shit. Goodnight my princess, love you. ❤️' You text her back, and lift your shirt up to show her the last time your nipples were going to be unpierced. You take a picture of your tits, and send it to her. "g'morning, love. I hope you had a nice sleep, baby" She's probably still asleep, considering the fact that the timezone in Bilgewater was a couple hours behind, and the fact that she got there so late.

And with that, you get up, and stretch. You go to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, and breakfast. You eat your breakfast, while watching dumb cartoons (They're not dumb, You fucking love cartoons) You like watching them anyways. You keep checking your phone for the time, checking for Sevika's message, but you see there was no response. Again, she was probably still sleeping anyways.

It's now 3pm, an hour before your appointment. Still no text from Sevika, and you're just about getting ready to leave the house. You are worried that you might come across someone that knows Sevika, and'll probably snitch on you, so you wear an oversized hoodie, and sweatpants to hide yourself from potential snitches that'll rat you out to your wife. You grab your keys, wallet, and phone and head out.

You text Sevika "I'm going to buy some groceries baby" with a selfie, and a kissy face emoji. You smile through your lie, and thinking this was the best idea ever. You walked for a bit, nearning the piercing shop, everything going smoothly. Until you come across Ran. Ran is a coworker of Sevika, and may potentially tell on you by accident. You have no choice but to entertain them, since they'll probably get suspicious of you, and you're just nothing but a nervous wreck.

Your eyes go wide as you see them walk over to you. It was still only 3:30 anyways, and you did have time, but who knows how long they'll stick around. "Hey! How are you? where ya going? They wave to you with their bionic fingers, and you just swallow the lump in your throat, and smile at them, trying to hide your nervousness. "H-Hi, Ran, I was just out to get some... Groceries! yeah, groceries!" They just blink at you, with their mouth agape, and they spoke "Uhm, Y/N, the grocery store is that way" They said, pointing the other direction. You mentally slap yourself, and act surprised "O-oh? Is that so? I might have gotten lost or something" Your voice clearly oozing with anxiety, but you might've just come across as weird. "Cut the bullshit, where are you actually going?" They said, raising their eyebrow at you.

You finally break. "F-fine! I'm going to get a piercing, okay? Happy? Just, please don't tell Sevika, please!!!" You get flustered, and your face turns red. You don't really wanna specify on where you're getting a piercing, but you still plead to them not to tell on you. "Hmm, why? 's it a surprise?" they ask. "Yes!!! Yes, so please, do me a favor, just this once." You look at them with puppy eyes, and your hands together. They look you up and down, and chuckle at you "Alright fine. But that's because you know I can't say no to you. I'll keep my mouth shut." You smile, your eyes sparkle a bit. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thabk you, thank you! But, can I ask one more thing?" You look up at them again. They burst out laughing, but you pout at them "Sure are abusing your power over me. But yes, of course. Anything you need?" You giggle them "Please please please don't let anyone else find out, and if you can, please get them away from the piercing shop. I don't want to blow uo my cover." They smiles at you "Sounds like you're going to murder someone, and trying to hide it. But yeah, sure Y/n." You give them a big hug, and you part ways, and you run towards the piercing shop, panting as you open the door.

The time was 3:50 already. And you were just about time. The piercer comes up to you, and asks you what piercing you wanted, and if you're comfortable. They tell you to wait for a bit, as they finish up a client, and you sit there finally able to be calm, with no one familiar in sight.

Until...

*Ring ring*

Your phone rang. It was Sevika. You were panicking, not knowing what to do. You can't turn off your phone, and she knows your notifications are never off for her. You resist the urge to answer it, and you just out your phone on silent. You were nervous on what to say to her later, even more nervous now, for what you're about to do. You don't like not answering her calls, and texts, but you only have to wait a little bit, and then you'll answer it. 'Oh, I'm sorry my baby, I'll make it up to you, I swear, just give me a couple minutes.' You say in your mind. the ringing stops, and you hear yourself get a text message. Another one. And another one. You were able to read it from your notifications, and it reads

3:56pm (Sevika)

- Missed a call

- Babe? Where are you?

- You busy?

- Why aren't you answering my calls?

You were so nervous. You never intentionally ignored Sevika, and you never wanted to. But she only has to wait a little bit more. She calls you agsin, but this time, you put your phone in your pocket, and sigh, as you put your phone on silent.

"Okay, Y/n, you're up. Are you ready?" The piercer asks, as she sterilizes the needle. "Y-yes." At this point, you're starting to feel very guilty. You don't want to make her worry and you're already second guessing yourself. You just suck it up, and think that this is for her. All for her. And selfishly, for you too, but it's all hers. You sigh, and lift up your shirt. "Ready?" The piercer asks. You nod. "Take a deep breath for me." She counts from 1, 2, 3— "AHH! THIS HURTS LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER!" the needle went through. She puts the jewelry in. You breath heavily, and wince from the pain, when she takes it out. "Oh Janna, is this how it's gonna feel for the other one?" You say, with worry. But, maybe you deserve it, just a little bit. The piercer chuckles, as she sterilizes her other needle, and places the needle to your other nipple. "Deep breath for me, okay 1, 2—" "SON OF A BITCH!!! OH MY JANNA!" You howl from the pain. She puts the other jeweltry in, and you try your best not to touch it.

The piercer leaves you a while, to let you see the piercings. You deserved the pain anyway, and it's gone now, just notably uncomfortable. She suggest that you don't wear your hoodie when you walk home, and suggest you just wear the shirt underneath it. Your nipples were hard, and sensitive. They were still healing, after all. You payed, and walked out of there a new woman. You went to your phone, and finally read what Sevika had been texting you. There was a fuck ton of texts, and miss calls, and suddenly, the pain was well deserved. You quickly text her back

4:18pm (You)

- Oh my

- Im sorry, Sevi, I didn't see your texts, and calls

- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry

At this point, you feel like a bad girlfriend. You head to the grocery store, and finally call her there

"Where have you been?" She asks, clearly angry, "Oh, my, I'm at the grocery store, and my phone didn't ring" You hate having to lie to her, but you're doing it now. In other circumstances, you could never lie to her, but, she'll find out in a bit anyways. "Never ignore my calls again. I swear, I almost went home, because of your ass!" She exclaims, which you gladly accepted. "Oh, please do. I miss you badly, Sevika." You say, while touching your breasts, but avoiding the nipples. She smirks, and now, her mood just changes completely. "Oh yea? I saw your photo earlier. Better be more where that came from." She winks at you. You smirk, and wink back. "Oh, trust me. There will be."

She got home in a week, the shipment was a success, and she got to go home early. You were just getting out of the shower, topless. You didn't expect her to just come in the door. "Honey, I'm hom-" She just stared at you. Your eyes go wide. And you try to cover your nipples. "B-baby, I can explain!" She looks at you with a glint in her her eyes. she quickly throws her bags on the floor, and pins you down on the counter, by your hand, and stares at your hard nipples. "S-surprise, baby! welcome home!" You smile at her, and you lift your chest up a bit to her, to show it off even more. She doesn't talk, she just stares at them, while pinning you, and she looks at you with a raised eyebrow, but still has that hunger in her eyes, that makes it seems like she wants to devour you. "I wasn't expecting you home so soon~" you coo at her. Her face finally resteing, but her eyes are still studying you. She finally speaks. "This looks healed. When did you get this?" She raised a brow again. (Janna, this woman is the CEO of eyebrow raising) It makes you a little nervous, but you finally told her the truth.

"I'm sorry for not telling you, my sweetheart. But, this was supposed to be a surprise for you. All for you." You coo at her, your face inching closer to her. And she grabs your face, and forces her tongue in your mouth. It caught you by surprise, but when you finally processed that she wasn't mad at you, you finally kissed her back with the same amount of hunger as her. There was a firey passion in your kiss—Heavy make out session, really. She pulled back, and smiled at you. "I love you so fucking much, you know that?" You smile back at her, and pull her face towards you, and kiss her nose, and cheeks. You giggle at her. "And I love you, my Sevi" She presses her forehead against yours, and you both smile at each other, and it quickly became a weird form of foreplay again, and you both have that look in your eyes again.

She leans in for another kiss, and you put your hand on the back of her neck, and she plays with your nipples. You moan in the kiss, and pull back "mhm, baby, they're sensitive" You whine at her. She smirks, opens her mouth, and goes to them. Her right hand playing with your right nipple, and she's sucking left. "S-sev, p-please, ah~" You moan her name, making her more eager to tease you. She puts her hands under your ass, and she smacks it. You bite your lip, and you wrap your legs around her, she's pulling you into a deep kiss again, and you kiss her back hungrily. You pull back, and lean on the counter, and she's giving you hickies on your neck, and going down to your breasts. She's gentle with your nipples though. She just touches them lightly, or lick them, but not too hard. "hmm, you look perfect, my baby. I was wrong. Nipple piercings are awesome. On you, atleast" She teases. You roll you eyes, and look up at her. You put your hand behind her neck again, and you smile on her shoulder. "Told you, baby. You were right though, hurts like a son of a bitch. Made it extra sensitive too"

She smiles, kisses your neck again, although you can hear, and feel her chuckling between kisses. It suddenly turns darker quickly, though. She unbuttons your pants, and throws it from across the room. She sits you on the counter, to look at your soaked panties. "Mhm, I've missed this pussy, baby" she puts her thumb near it, but not touching it. Just, teasing. You moan "not as much as it missed you, Sevi. I haven't touched myself, since you left" You tell her, you lean forward, to feel her thumb on you, but she pulls back. "Impatient, are we?" You nod, "P-please, Sevika. T-touch me already, baby. Fuck me, please" You beg. "Oh baby, you know how much I love it when you're like this. All desperate for me. All for me." You nod. You can't take it anymore. You put your fingers in your panties, and touch yourself. She grabs your wrist, and puts them above your head, and she kisses you. Her finger is now circling your cloth clit. You panties now ruined. She smirks in the kiss, and she finally puts your panties aside, and she quickly pumps a finger in you. "o-ah! Sevika! ah! hmm! a-atlea-st w-warn me!" You complain, but you got lost, as her fingers pump in and out of you. She plays with your nipples with her tongue, as she's looking up at you. You look down at her, but your eyes are getting heave as you get closer to cumming.

She circled her thumb on your clit, while she's finger fucking you, and all you can do is take it, and pull her closer to your chest. "F-fuck, s-sevika!" you moan louder. Pretty sure the neighbors can hear you both going at it, the sounds your pretty pussy makes, your loud moans when you scream her name. "Mhm, baby, all mine. This is all mine baby?" She asks, not for assurance, but to tease you a little more. "Y-yes, Sevi-ka, f-uck! I-I l-ove yo-u! a-all yours!" She finds it hot how you find it hard to speak from moaning, and she smirks at you. You're close, and Sevika can feel it, "C'mon, cum for me, princess" she pumps in you again, harder, and faster, the fast, but smooth friction on your clit, you throw your head back, your body convulsing as you climax on her fingers, you pull her closer to you, and your grip on her hair getting stronger. Your moans were now louder, "S-Sevikaa-ah!!! f-uck!!"

She pumped in you a little more, as you calmed down for your orgasm, and she pulls her soaked fingers out of you, and makes you suck on your juices, and puts her fingers in and out of your mouth. She pulls it out, and leans in for a kiss. You breathlessly kiss her back, but pull away immedietly, to catch you breath. "Next time you try and sneak shit from me again, I won't go easier on you." She says, recalling the time you intentionally ignored her for your piercing, and you giggle at her "Yes, baby, I promise, I'll never do it again. Behind your back" You stick your tongue out at her, and she quickly leaned to you, and sucked it. You're both smiling in the kiss, and she grabs a towel to clean you up. "But I gotta say, it was worth it, yeah?" You ask her. She chuckles, and takes another good look at you, before cleaning you up. She hums, "Very worth it." She smirks at you. You kiss her forehead, and she quickly kissess yours too. "Let's go back to shower, you're coming with me, stinky!" You tease her, and make grabby hands for her to carry you to the bathroom. "Oh shut up" She says, rolling her eyes at you, and she carries you to the shower, taking her clothes off, starting with her belt. "Round 2?" She asks, as she pulls her belt out. "Oh hell yeah." You giggle, and answer immedietly. She hops in the shower with you, and you're both giggling like teenage girls. She puts her forehead against yours, and whispers an "I love you" under her breath. You put your hands up her cheeks again, and close your eyes, while smiling. "I love you too. "

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

This is my first ever smut, please be nice.

I must warn you all that I am no writer, and I do this for fun, so if you're a writer, and I fell short on a couple things, I'd gladly take constructive criticism and tips on how to be better at this. ❤️

[sunniepoo]

I NEED more of the obx/reader love islane PLEEK 😭😭😭 jj next pls pls pls

love island!jj

jj is an og boy through and through, i have no clue why but something about him screams being in the original line up. the public love him from the moment he comes on, from his looks to his personality he already becomes a bit of a fan favourite

i feel like you would also be in the original line up however you wouldn’t be coupled together, i think it’d be a situation where the public chooses who should go together and honestly he’s gutted. his eyeballs nearly popped out when he saw you and in his head he’s praying that the public chose you to be with him but to his dismay it was not the case

but that doesn’t stop either of you, it was easy to fall for him with his jokey, playful manor but still that masculine presence that follows him - i think the moment where the two of you’d click is when your playing a game around the fire pit and you mention something about the ocean or surfing and it just clicks for him that he needs to get you in his bed as soon as possible

i think it’s only a matter of time before he’s pulling you for chats and slowly flirting his way into your heart, during one of the first recouplings he picks you and honestly that’s only the beginning for the two of you, it’s really sweet and romantic from there on and you become a public favourite quite quickly (sort of like lana and ron s9)

the main major stump between the two of you is when bombshells come in and neither of you have communicated well about that situation so when you see him cracking on with another girl that’s not you, it genuinely shatters your heart into a million

i feel like we see this in obx and i can see it translate into this very well is jj’s fear of intimacy and closeness, for him he could care less about the bombshell but it’s the idea that you and him have been getting so close it’s causing him to freak out and that’s how he finds himself flirting with someone’s name he can barely remember

and before he can even explain himself or even talk to you, everyone’s gathering around the fire pit and he’s being chosen leaving you single - he couldn’t hate himself more in that moment because the idea of you going home genuinely makes him want to leave with you but production comes through and you’re being sent on a date ( really pulling a mimii on this one s11)

following that it’s just a bit of back and forth of arguing and getting back at each other before he sits you down and just breaks, he starts pouring his heart out and you start to realise that whatever anger you have is not worth it

not to say it doesn’t cause a stump in your relationship but your connection with him is stronger than the anger you have. truly once you guys get over that it’s so so sweet and heartwarming

you’d 100% be the very loud, active couple like everyone else is complaining at how your going at it and he genuinely has no shame and doesn’t care - he’s eating you out under those covers with no shame

you guys going to the hideaway would go so viral just cause of how fucked out you look after (lowk like in love island usa when kenny and jaNa came out) hair is a mess and everyone is making memes about how he gives it good

casa amour is such a realisation for him at how much he needs you to keep his mood up because for the first time he is just so out of it and it’s solely because he misses you - the casa recoupling is so cute because you literally run to him and he’s looking at you so in love

like i said casa is such a realisation for him that it doesn’t take long for him to make you his girlfriend and drop the l bomb and if people though you were loud before, god were they not prepared

people have been rooting for you since like day one, when they saw his face when you’d strutted in so it was a very clear and obvious win, and all hell breaks loose when you announce your first kid a couple years later and all you can think is how this started from a silly show you went on for fun

[yandere--stuck]

NEED to know your thoughts on a yandere bill cipher

⚠️ Listen, pal, I KNOW why you're reading this. You've got a crush on YOURS TRULY! That's right, buddy, the cat's outta the bag! Well, not like the cat was ever really in the bag to begin with. What? Didn't think my all-seeing eye would spy you making goo-goo eyes at artistic depictions of me? AHAHA, aw, hey! Nothing to be embarrassed about. It's not like I can blame you, I mean, have you met me? A winning personality, great sense of humor, beautiful singing voice - I'm a total catch! And between you and me, you have better taste than the rest of your species’ population.

👁 There are probably numerous reason why you like stuff like this: The obsession, the possessive behavior, the VIOLENCE. Sure sounds like romance to ME! But as for you… Is it the abandonment issues? Lack of validation in your life? Feeling misunderstood and ostracized by the world? Loneliness? A desire for an escape into a fictional world? Or are you like me? Is romance just no good without the true passion of twisted devotion and obsession? There's no need to LIE! We're kindred spirits, you and I.

⚠️ I know just how you feel. You've been kicked down, laughed at, and made to feel small. You've gone unappreciated by blind MORONS who wouldn't know greatness if it melted their eyeballs out their ears. Because you are MEANT for greatness. You are meant for something more, and I bet it burns you to know that. That you're better than all of them. That they're nothing without you, and they DESERVE nothing. They deserve to BE nothing. I know just how you feel because I was in your place. Surrounded by flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams. HA, and I sure showed them. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, HUH? ME!!!!!!

👁 The point is, I know you. I've had my eye on you for quite a while, kid. Q U I T E A W H I L E. And might I say, out of all the flesh bags that have clogged my vision over the centuries, YOU'RE clearly the best looking outta all of ‘em, hot stuff. But looks aren't everything, of course! You've got a personality to match. Gotta admit, it's cute how you get so invested in your interests, the little hobbies you pick up, just watching you go about your day is like the universe’s greatest reality TV show starring my favorite person in the multiverse! OH, I could just decaptiate you and nuzzle your fleshy little head in an approximation of a kiss right now!!!

⚠️ So, c'mon, just let me in. Shake my hand! Let's make a deal. No matter how big or small! And it’s not just for the purpose of liberating your dimension, no. I want to really get under your skin. To feel what it's like to be in the body of my favorite person. As close as two beings can get, closer than you can get with unworthy specimens of your own kind, more intimate than any experience in the world. I want to be that close to you. Because you're mine. You're MY HUMAN and NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. Y'HEAR ME?

👁 So, you might as well accept that you and me are destined, kid. The signs are all there. So, if I were you (and I could be, if you'd just let me), I'd do this the easy way. Because right now, there's two ways this can go down. The easy way: You summon me, and we make a deal. Anything your precious human heart desires - and more! You'll be my precious human pet, my puppet, my toy. Mine to own and have rule beside me! You'll prove everyone who put you down wrong! Anything you want - love, money, fame, worship, vengeance - it'll all be yours, and I'll give it to you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want what's best for you. Because I’M the only one who actually cares about you. Everything you wanted will be yours. And there'll be an eternal party to celebrate our eternal love… Or, you could do this the hard way. Cause I'm gettin’ outta here one way or another. And when I do, well… I don't think you'd like being locked up in The Love Cage to be TORTURED until you reciprocate my feelings and see the light. I'd say I wouldn't want to, but that'd be lying. So, it's probably not a good idea to give me more of a reason to. So, whaddaya say? You know you deserve the best. Shake my hand and join the winning team. Either way, you're mine.

[sofiatarot]

PAC: If I were your partner: How I’d treat you, win your heart, and fulfill your desires... ❤️‍🔥

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have someone treat you exactly the way you dream of? the way you truly deserve? In this reading, I’ll dive deep into how I’d love, cherish, and spoil you as your partner. We'll see what makes your heart race, how I’d go the extra mile to win you over, and a glimpse into what the passion between us might look like. Let’s uncover what your perfect partner would bring to the table.

TIP JAR - FREE READINGS - PAID READINGS

1->2

3->4

Take this as a sign—this is the lover you’ve been manifesting. There are no coincidences, only fate bringing you closer to what you truly deserve. Get ready, because the universe is sending someone who will treat you exactly like this… and maybe even better.

Group 1

Okay so... I get the impression that you wouldn’t make this easy… You crave a connection that’s more than just surface-level. You’re not here for fleeting infatuations or hollow promises—you need someone who can show up with passion, depth, and consistency. What makes your heart race is the idea of a partner who can handle the highs and lows of life with you, someone who knows how to celebrate your wins but also stand by you when the weight of the world feels heavy. You’re drawn to someone who’s bold enough to take action yet emotionally intuitive enough to make you feel understood.

I’d have to treat you just right to earn your trust… Winning your heart wouldn’t be a game; it’d be a commitment. You’d fall for someone who isn’t afraid to put in the work, to prove their loyalty through actions, not just words. I’d have to show you that I’m strong enough to carry my own weight while being gentle enough to support yours when you need it. You’d appreciate someone who takes the time to understand your complexities, who doesn’t shy away from your emotional depth, and who knows how to balance ambition with tenderness.

This is undeniable… I know you’d want something raw and real… Behind closed doors, you’re someone who loves intensity. You crave moments that feel almost electric—like passion that builds slowly and then crashes over you all at once. I’d know how to take my time, teasing out every ounce of desire until you’re begging for release. There’s something about the push and pull that excites you, isn’t there? The tension of holding back, only to give in completely. I’d make sure you feel like the center of my universe in those moments, with nothing else mattering but us.

I’d have to surprise you, though… You’re not someone who’s impressed by the predictable. You’d love a partner who keeps you guessing, who knows how to reignite the spark when things feel too routine. I’d make it my mission to keep things fresh, whether that means spontaneous adventures or quiet nights filled with whispered promises. You’d appreciate someone who knows how to balance the thrill of the new with the comfort of the familiar, always leaving you wanting more.

I think I’d have to match your intensity… You’re someone who needs a partner who can meet you on your level. You’re not interested in someone who’s going to shy away from the fire—you need someone who’s willing to step into it with you. I’d show you that I can handle your passion, your ambition, and your emotional depth without flinching. You’d love a partner who sees your strength and meets it with their own, creating a connection that feels both powerful and unshakable.

But I’d also need to make you feel secure… You’re not someone who can thrive in uncertainty. You’d fall for a partner who makes you feel grounded, who proves their love through their actions and their presence. I’d make sure you know that you’re my priority, that I’m here to support you and celebrate you in every way possible. You’d love someone who sees the beauty in your vulnerability and cherishes it rather than taking it for granted.

Oh, now this is interesting…

Something tells me you’d like to take control sometimes… You’re someone who knows what you want, and I’d love nothing more than to give it to you. Whether it’s letting you call the shots or completely surrendering to your desires, I’d make sure you feel empowered in every way. You’d appreciate a partner who can read between the lines, who knows how to anticipate your needs without you having to say a word.

I think you’d love the little things, too… You’re someone who notices the details—the way someone remembers your favorite coffee order or the way they hold your hand when you’re nervous. I’d make it my mission to show you how much I care in all the small ways, proving that love isn’t just about grand gestures but also about the quiet moments that make life beautiful.

And in the end, I’d make sure you feel like the only one… You’d love a partner who makes you feel like the center of their universe, who shows you every day that you’re cherished, desired, and deeply loved. I’d make sure you know that you’re my priority, always and forever. You deserve nothing less.

Group 2

I can tell you have a romantic heart but a practical mind...

You’re someone who loves the idea of deep, soulful connections, but you’re not here for fleeting infatuations. You’re drawn to love that feels purposeful, where every moment builds toward something meaningful. What makes your heart race is the idea of someone who understands both your dreams and your doubts, someone who can balance passion with stability.

Oh, there’s no question about it… I’d have to show you I’m serious about you… Winning your heart would mean showing you that I’m not just talk—I’d need to back it up with action. You’re not impressed by empty promises; you need someone who can follow through and prove their commitment. I’d make it clear that I’m here to build something real with you, not just chase after fleeting thrills. You’d fall for someone who sees your worth and doesn’t shy away from putting in the effort.

So I’d take my time making you feel special… You’re someone who loves the little moments as much as the grand gestures. Behind closed doors, I’d make sure every touch, every word, every kiss feels intentional. You’d love a partner who knows how to build anticipation, teasing out the tension until it’s almost too much to bear. I’d make sure you feel completely worshipped, like nothing else in the world matters except you.

I have a feeling you’re the type who craves a bit of mystery… You’re not someone who wants everything laid out right away—you’d love a partner who keeps you guessing, who adds a touch of intrigue to the relationship. I’d make sure to surprise you, whether it’s with unexpected adventures or the way I look at you when you least expect it. You’d love the feeling of discovering new layers to someone, always keeping things fresh and exciting.

I’d need to balance passion with stability… You’re not here for chaos—you want a connection that feels grounded yet still electric. I’d make it my mission to show you that I can offer you both security and excitement, blending the best of both worlds. You’d fall for someone who can handle your complexities without trying to change you, someone who embraces your depth and matches it with their own.

I sense that you’d appreciate being cherished… You’d love a partner who pays attention to the details, who notices the little things that make you smile and finds ways to incorporate them into everyday life. I’d make sure to show you that I see you, truly see you, in a way that makes you feel loved and appreciated beyond words.

And let’s be honest, you’d love to feel desired… Behind closed doors, you’d appreciate a partner who knows how to take control when needed but also gives you the space to express your own desires. I’d know exactly how to tune into what you need, finding the perfect balance between softness and intensity. You’d love someone who knows how to push your boundaries in the best ways, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

I’d make you feel like the only one in the room… You’re someone who loves to be reminded of how special you are, whether it’s through words, actions, or the way I look at you. I’d make sure you know that you’re my priority, that everything I do is with you in mind. You deserve nothing less than a love that makes you feel like you’re walking on air.

And in the end, I’d make sure you feel secure and adored… You’d fall for someone who makes you feel like you’re their everything, someone who doesn’t just say they love you but shows it in every way possible. I’d make sure you know that you’re deeply cherished, desired, and loved beyond measure.

Group 3

It’s clear to me now… you’ve got walls up, but they’re worth climbing… You’re someone who doesn’t let just anyone in—you need a partner who’s willing to earn your trust and prove that they’re here for the right reasons. What makes your heart race is the idea of someone who’s not afraid to put in the effort, who sees your strength and admires it but also makes you feel safe enough to let your guard down.

I’d have to show you that I’m not going anywhere… Winning your heart would mean proving that I’m here for the long haul. You’d appreciate someone who’s patient, who doesn’t push but instead lets the connection grow naturally. I’d show you that I see the real you, the version of you that you don’t show to everyone, and I’d make sure you know that I love every part of it.

I’d make you feel unstoppable… Behind closed doors, you’re someone who loves intensity. You’d want a partner who knows how to take control but also lets you express your own power. I’d make sure to create moments that feel electric, where every touch and every look sends shivers down your spine. You’d love the feeling of being completely seen, desired, and adored in those intimate moments.

It’s written all over you—you’d need a mix of strength and softness… You’re not someone who’s drawn to extremes—you’d love a partner who knows how to balance their strength with vulnerability. I’d make sure to show you that I’m both capable and caring, strong enough to stand by your side but also soft enough to hold you when you need it.

I’d need to earn your respect first… You’re not someone who’s easily impressed by charm—you need substance. I’d make it my mission to prove that I’m someone worth your time, someone who can match your intelligence, your ambition, and your drive. You’d love a partner who’s not afraid to challenge you but also knows how to support you when it counts.

Mhm, I can almost picture it now…you like to keep things exciting… You’d appreciate a partner who knows how to keep the spark alive, who’s willing to try new things and push boundaries. I’d make sure every moment with me feels fresh and exciting, whether it’s through spontaneous adventures or the way I look at you like you’re the only person in the world.

And let’s not forget—you’d love to feel adored… You’re someone who appreciates the little things, the moments that show you how much you’re loved and valued. I’d make sure to pay attention to the details, showing you that I care in ways that go beyond words. You’d fall for someone who makes you feel like you’re the center of their universe.

I’d make sure you feel completely secure… You’re not someone who thrives in uncertainty—you need a partner who makes you feel grounded and safe. I’d make sure you know that you’re my priority, that I’m here to support you and stand by you no matter what. You’d love someone who proves their love through their actions, not just their words.

And in the end, I’d make sure you feel truly seen… You’d fall for a partner who sees the real you, who loves every part of you, even the parts you try to hide. I’d make sure you know that you’re deeply cherished and adored, that you’re the love of my life in every way.

Group 4

I get the feeling you don’t just let anyone get close to you… You’re someone who knows their worth and keeps your guard up until someone proves they’re worth your time. What you crave is a love that feels equal, where you’re respected, cherished, and understood. You’re drawn to a partner who brings balance to your life—someone who knows how to handle your complexities while making you feel like the most important person in the room.

I’d need to show you that I can match your depth… Winning your heart wouldn’t be a simple task. You’d make me work for it, and honestly, I’d enjoy every second of the challenge. You’d need to see consistency from me—proof that I’m not just here for the good times but also for the hard ones. I’d show you I can handle your storms without flinching, making it clear that I’m not just here to take, but to give in every way you deserve.

Now, I’d make you feel like royalty… Behind closed doors, you’d need a partner who knows how to pay attention to every single detail of your pleasure. You don’t settle for half-hearted attempts; you want someone who’s completely attuned to you. I’d make sure to build anticipation, teasing and pleasing until there’s nothing left but pure satisfaction. With me, you’d never have to doubt how desirable you are—I’d remind you every second of the way.

You’re the type who’d keep me guessing, and I’d love that… You’re not someone who lays it all out on the table—you love to keep things intriguing. I’d make it my mission to uncover all your hidden sides, to show you that I’m just as fascinated by your quiet moments as I am by your wild ones. You’d love having a partner who keeps things exciting without ever rushing you, someone who knows how to navigate your rhythm.

I’d have to prove I’m someone you can truly trust… You don’t give your heart easily, and I wouldn’t expect you to. To win you over, I’d show you that I’m someone who can hold your secrets, your fears, and your dreams without ever using them against you. You’d appreciate a partner who makes you feel safe enough to be vulnerable, someone who protects your heart as if it were their own.

And I know you’d want a love that feels equal… You wouldn’t settle for a relationship where one person gives all the effort. You’d want someone who invests just as much as you do, who meets you in the middle and makes you feel valued. I’d make it clear that I see you as my equal, my partner in every sense of the word, and that I’m here to create something extraordinary with you.

Let’s be honest, you’d love a partner who can handle your intensity… You’re not afraid of passion, and you’d need someone who knows how to match yours without being overwhelmed by it. I’d make sure to embrace every part of you, from your fiery moments to your softer ones. You’d fall for a partner who makes you feel free to express all sides of yourself, knowing you’ll never be judged for it.

I’d make sure you feel seen in ways no one else could… You’d love a partner who notices the things about you that others miss—the way your eyes light up when you’re excited, or the subtle shifts in your tone when you’re trying to hide your emotions. I’d show you that I don’t just see the surface—I see the real you, and I’m completely captivated by every part of it.

And in the end, I’d make you feel irreplaceable… You’re not someone who’d be content with anything less than a love that feels all-encompassing. I’d make sure you know, every single day, that you’re my priority, my muse, and my greatest treasure. With me, you’d never feel like you’re settling—you’d know you’ve found someone who’s truly worthy of you.

I could be a better boyfriend than him—

xoxo🌙