#why are you so damn narcissistic

[equalperson]

being an "is often envious of others" narcissist instead of a "believes that others are envious of them" narc SUCKS. WDYM seeing other people do something even slightly better or faster than I do makes Me feel physically ill?? this shit is so embarrassing.

[rabbitology]

anyone else hopes that their ex kills themselves

[teethcore]

guy i was trying to be friends with who completely ignored me and brushed me off when i shared something vulnerable has sent me this long paragraph about some stuff he's dealing with in his life rn and every time i see the preview of the unread message i see red.

[kavehayati]

WELL DAMN

[hanniebaeee]

Something Like Love

Han Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, suggestive MDNI

Genre: friends/friends with benefits to lovers, fluff

Summary: You've been in love with Minho for so long, but he's already in a relationship - a really toxic one. And your best friend Jisung, who is also like your best friend with benefits, is your only source of comfort. And it looks like there's more cooking here than just benefits.

Your favorite fuzzy blanket did absolutely nothing to cushion the blow of watching Hana shove her tongue down Minho's throat in her Instagram story. You’ve watched it three times now (you didn’t even know why but you liked torturing yourself). 

Why does he stay with her? She was bossy and such a narcissist! Jisung noticed the pout on your face and sighed, plopping down beside you.

“Put that away,” He said softly, wrestling the phone off your hand and tossing it aside. 

You looked at him and saw him giving you that look. The one that made you wonder why you even want Minho in the first place.

You huffed, throwing your head back dramatically.

“She was literally eating Minho’s face like it was her last meal. And he looked so miserable, Ji. Miserable!”

Jisung raised an eyebrow as he popped open the wine bottle.

“Maybe he likes being miserable. Some people are into that. Like you and this whole ‘pining after your taken best friend’ thing.” Jisung teased, and you glared at him. 

But he just grinned, handing you a glass of wine. 

“Don’t.” you bit out. 

“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? That you’re wasting your time on Minho when you could be -”

“Jisung.”

“Fine, fine.” He threw his hands up in mock surrender, but there was that glint in his eye. That Jisung glint. The one that promised things you didn’t want to think about right now.

Because Jisung? Jisung was safe. He was your comfort zone. The guy who knows exactly when to show up, exactly what to say (or not say), and exactly how to make you forget about Minho.

Like right now.

He set his wine down, leaned back, and patted his lap. “Come here.”

You hesitated, because you know where this is going. It wasn't like this was your first rodeo. But tonight, with Minho’s stupidly gorgeous, miserable face burned into your brain, you didn’t have the energy to resist.

You climbed into Jisung’s lap, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Let it go, babe” Jisung said softly. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. But you can make out with your incredibly sexy boy here to forget about him.”  

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“Ridiculously good in bed,” he shot back, leaning in closer.  

“Why am I even friends with you?”  

“Because I’m the only one who puts up with your Minho obsession and gives you orgasms on the regular.”  

You slapped his arm, but he caught your hand, tugging you closer with a smug grin.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice dipping. “Let me take care of you.”  

And that’s how it always is with Jisung. No questions. No strings. Just heat and comfort and the kind of laughter that made your tummy ache.

—-

Later, when you were lying in bed, thoroughly spent, he ran his fingers through your hair.

“You know, I’d treat you way better than Minho ever could.” Jisung teased. 

“Please. You’d annoy the crap out of me within a week.” you snorted. 

“True,” he admitted with a grin, kissing the top of your head. “But at least I wouldn’t make you cry.”

And damn it, if that didn’t make your stupid heart skip a beat.

You weren’t entirely sure why you agreed to this. Maybe it was the way Minho had looked at you, all big, sad eyes and that faint pout you couldn’t resist.  

Jisung smirked like the devil himself as he whispered, “We’re gonna regret this so hard, aren’t we?”  

Of course you did. 

The Christmas market was magical, with the twinkling lights, the scent of cinnamon and mulled wine, and obviously, the company of your friends - but Hana managed to suck the joy out of it faster than the Grinch with a vacuum cleaner.  

The mulled wine was too hot. The fudge was too sweet. The carols were too loud.

You gritted your teeth, gripping Jisung's arm so tight. Why the hell were you all letting her lead the way?! 

Hana stopped in front of a stall selling silk scarves and picked up a bright pink one. 

“Oh this would look good on me,” She announced, and Minho winced before gently saying, “It’s not really your color,” 

“Stop thinking about strangling her with that scarf, love.” Jisung whispered in your ear. 

You snorted, clapping a hand over your mouth as Hana shot you a glare. “Something funny?”  

“Nope,” Jisung said smoothly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoying the festive spirit.”  

“Can you not be so clingy?” Hana snapped at Jisung after she saw him move a strand of hair off your face. “It’s so… obvious.”

“Hana please-” Minho tried. He did.  

“Obvious?” you repeated, voice colder than the December air.

Hana raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a condescending smirk.

“I mean, really. Do you need him to hold your hand all the time?” 

It took everything in you not to lunge at her, and only Jisung’s firm grip on your wrist stopped you from doing something you’d regret.  

“Relax,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. “She’s not worth it.”  

“I need to use the bathroom,” you hissed, yanking Jisung on your way, brushing past Minho.

“Why does he need to go with you?” Hana called after you, but you didn’t even glance back.

You stormed through the market, weaving past stalls until you found a quiet corner near a stand selling candied nuts. The scent was almost enough to calm you down. Almost. 

“I swear to god, Sungie, I’m gonna -”  

Before you could finish, Jisung spun you around and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“Breathe,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “She’s not worth the jail time.”  

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, but your anger was already starting to melt under his touch.

“I just - ugh, she’s so -”  

“I know baby, I know,” Jisung said with a little chuckle.  

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself. 

“You’ve gotta let it go, babe. And honestly…” He grinned, his lips brushing yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re way cuter when you’re happy.”

“You’re so smooth,” you murmured, but your hands were already fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer.  

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, before finally kissing you.  

It definitely wasn’t the first time, of course, but it always felt new with Jisung. 

When you finally pulled back, your anger had dissolved into something softer, something sweeter.  

“You good now?” he asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.  

“Better,” you admitted, resting your head against his chest.  

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from the world. “Now, let’s get back out there before Hana convinces Minho to buy her that ugly scarf.”  

“Do we have to?” You groaned.

“Hey, you dragged me here,” he pointed out with a grin.  

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”  

“I am,” he said, tilting your chin up to kiss you again. “Always.”    

The Christmas market outing hadn’t been great, but dinner was starting to look even worse. You all sat at a cozy little restaurant, candlelight flickering over the table while festive decorations twinkled. It should’ve been perfect. 

But then there was Hana.  

Minho had been eyeing the beef stew on the menu with excitement.

“I want to try this,” he said, but Hana barely looked up from her phone.

“That’s too heavy. Order the grilled salmon instead. It’s better for you.” she said, her bossy tone dimming the mood instantly.

Minho’s expression faltered as he said, “I kind of wanted the -”

“Salmon,” Hana interrupted, snapping her menu shut with finality. “Trust me. It's better.”  

You gripped your menu so hard you were surprised it didn’t rip in two. You wanted to stab her with the fork. No wait, you wanted to slap some sense into Minho.

But before you could actually do anything, you felt Jisung's hand on your thigh, his long fingers squeezing gently. 

“Salmon it is,” Minho muttered, deflating like a popped balloon. 

When the waiter came to your table, you watched Minho order two of those damn salmon.

 “I’ll have the beef stew, please.” you heard yourself say.

Jisung immediately chimed in, “And I’ll take the gnocchi.”

You snapped your head toward him, because you've been wanting that gnocchi. He winked at you and said, “It’s called teamwork, babe.”  

Your heart did a weird flip. Damn him and his perfectly calculated sweetness. Your eyes moved towards Minho, who was now clicking some pictures of Hana, and then to Jisung's hand on your thigh.

You placed a hand on top of his and squeezed tight.

—--

The food arrived a short while later, and Hana’s sharp eyes immediately darted to the beef stew in front of you. 

Without a word, you pushed your plate toward Minho.

“Here. Trade with me.” you said. 

Minho blinked, startled.

“What? No, I can’t -”  

“Minho,” you said softly, “it's ok, I want you to have it.”

He hesitated, glancing between you and Hana, whose mouth had tightened into a thin line.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his cheeks pink. 

“Positive.” You smiled, even as your heart twisted.  

Minho hesitated for another moment before switching plates with you.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, his voice full of something you couldn’t quite place.

Before you could start on the salmon, Jisung slid his gnocchi in front of you and took the salmon for himself.

“Sungie, you didn't have to-” You stared at him, half smitten and half exasperated.

“It's for the greater good, you can thank me later,” he said cheerfully, digging in.

Hana’s glare could’ve frozen molten lava, though.

“Do you two always make everything about yourselves?”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, giving her a shit-eating grin.

“Mostly yeah.” he said, and you didn’t miss the way Hana’s eyes narrowed.

As you all fell silent, focusing on your food, you couldn't help but feel a weird pull in your heart. And it had nothing to do with Minho. And everything to do with this messy haired boy sitting beside you.

The cold air bit at your face as you and Jisung stepped out of the restaurant, the distant glow of holiday lights softening the edges of the night.

Now, you were walking side by side through the bustling city streets, holding hands. Snowflakes fluttered down, catching in his messy hair, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.  

You stopped walking, your breath clouding in the cold air. “Why are you so good to me, Sungie?”  

He stopped too, surprised at the abrupt halt and the unexpected question.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, making him look absolutely adorable. 

“Because I’m a mess,” you said, half-laughing, half-starting to cry. “Because I keep dragging you into this whole thing with Minho and I feel like I'm so damn selfish…you don't deserve this, Sungie-”  

“I'm doing this for me, not for you or anyone else. Can you try to accept that? I like being with you, ok?” he interrupted, his tone light but his eyes giving him away.  

Your stomach dropped. 

“Relax,” he added quickly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into that familiar smirk. “I’m just saying… I care about you. That’s it. No strings, no expectations. We agreed on that.”  

It was so Jisung - offering everything without asking for a damn thing in return. And it made you want to cry and kiss him all at once.  

So, you did the latter.

You stepped closer, gripping at his jacket tightly to pull him down to meet your lips. His breath hitched as you kissed him, soft at first, then deeper as he kissed you back.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as the world around you faded into nothing but the warmth between you two. 

When you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against his, he let out a breathless laugh.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“For being too good for your own good.” You smiled, your hands cupping his cheeks.

“Oh? Are you planning to ‘thank’ me properly?”  he asked, raising an eyebrow, his grin turning wicked.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you whispered, “Take me home then.”  

---

The second you stepped into his apartment, your back hit the door as Jisung kissed you like a man possessed. His hands were busy pulling your jacket off you, followed by your sweater and everything else. 

You sighed as you felt his lips and hands everywhere - as if he couldn’t get enough of you. 

“Been waiting for this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough. “You have no idea.”  

“Then show me,” you shot back, tugging him toward the bedroom.

He chuckled, both of you stumbling into his bedroom, and onto his bed. Clothes were shed, and he was settled in between your legs as he hovered over you.

As your eyes met, you saw something you didn't before - the softness of his gaze, a longing. And it made your heart flutter. Neither of you acknowledge it, and the rest of the night was a blur of soft whispers and sweet love making.

Jisung wasn’t just good - he was great, knowing exactly what you liked. And he did give, over and over again, until you were left breathless and completely exhausted.  

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“For what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your temple.  

“For being you.”  

Christmas Eve at Jisung’s place was always so chaotic. You both celebrate together when you couldn't travel back home for the holidays. 

Currently his living room was a mess with half-wrapped presents scattered across the floor, the scent of gingerbread in the air, and Jisung humming Christmas songs off-key. 

This year, though, Christmas came with an unexpected guest.  

Minho stood awkwardly in the doorway, a small bag in his hand and a defeated smile on his face. He looked exhausted. 

Hana was officially out of the picture. The breakup had been messy and so damn difficult, but Minho had finally done it. 

Jisung wasted no time pulling him into a tight hug. And you did too, because he needed all the hugs and love you could give because the poor man has been through a lot.

Minho slowly relaxed, even cracked a few jokes.

But it wasn’t until later, when the three of you were cleaning up in the kitchen, that he finally let the mask slip.

“You were right about her,” Minho said quietly, leaning against the counter as he dried a glass.

You glanced up from where you were wiping down the counter, surprised by the softness in his tone. 

“Minho -”  you began, but your eyes fell on Jisung, who quickly left the kitchen, leaving you alone with Minho. You didn't know why, but it absolutely shattered your heart to see him slip away like that. 

“No, let me finish.” He set the glass down and turned to you. “I shouldn’t have dragged it out. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I was scared to let go... I liked her so much, I kept thinking she would change…but deep down, I knew.”  

You stayed silent, giving him space to continue.  

“And I knew about you,” he admitted, his voice even softer now. “That you… liked me. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I never thought of you like that and I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should've said something.”

You exhaled slowly, leaning back against the counter.

“Love is weird, Minho,” You said quietly. “It's messy and complicated, and you don't have to feel bad about anything. Because you're ok, I'm ok… we're good.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing yours on the counter. 

“You and Jisung? I think it's great. He is such a nice guy, and it's so obvious that he loves you so much.” Minho said, giving you a grin. 

You smiled gently, your cheeks heating up.

“I think so too,” You whispered. “I’m glad you’re here, Lino…I’ll finish this up, you can go to bed. Get some rest, yeah?”

Minho nodded, pulling you into a quick hug before leaving the kitchen.

Your heart raced as you thought about what Minho said. You've been trying to decide how to bring it up with Jisung for a while now. But you were so afraid, because you know you wouldn't survive the heartbreak if you ever lost Jisung. 

He was everything to you. He made you feel wonderful - like the most special girl in the world. And it felt great. 

So you walked into the living room with wobbly legs, where Jisung was sitting by the Christmas tree, fiddling with a Rubik’s cube. The fairy lights reflected off his skin, making him look impossibly soft and adorable. 

When he saw you, his lips curved into that familiar, heart-melting smile.

“Hey,” he said, setting the cube down. “Everything ok?”

“Sort of.” You grinned, crossing the room to him. Without a word, you slipped into his lap, your arms draping around his neck.  

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, his hands instinctively settling on your hips. 

“Uh… not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing?” he asked, his eyes darting towards the guest room where Minho was. 

You leaned in, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. 

Your eyes meet as you said, “I love you, Sungie.”  

His mouth fell open, and for a second, he just stared at you, completely shocked.

“You… what?”  

“I love you,” you repeated, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I have for a while now. I just didn’t realize it until - well, until recently.” 

The disbelief melted from his face, replaced by a slow, utterly pleased smile.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

You laughed, pressing your lips to his forehead, before saying, “I love you.”

“Good,” he murmured, pulling you closer. “Because I’ve been waiting to hear that for a really long time.”  

And then he kissed you - soft at first, but quickly deepening as his hands slid up your back. You put your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, humming softly as his tongue caressed yours.

“I love you, baby,” He whispered against your lips. “God, I love you!”

You giggle, pressing kisses to his cheeks. 

“So,” he said, “How exactly do you want to ‘celebrate’?”  

You grinned, pulling him down into another kiss. “I have a few ideas.”  

This was your Christmas. And it was perfect.

Tags:

@moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix

[chrollohearttags]

love thy neighbor • r. sukuna

(Y/N) moves into an apartment complex on the other side of town and winds up living right next door to one of the most notorious drug dealers in the city nonetheless! But looks can be deceiving…

📝: black!fem plus size reader, plug!sukuna, age gap (6 years or so) mentions of toxic relationship and baby trapping, religious trauma, anxiety, alcohol + drug use, comfort + fluff and angst to smut, missionary, prone bone, oral sex, reader cries during, daddy is used a couple times, size difference, lots of kissing, positive affirmations, creampie

wc: 3.0K

🎙️: I swear imma get back to posting regularly! I’m just being lazy and hating my writing rn (it sucks) 😭 but I hope y’all enjoy

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

you didn’t know what to expect when you found yourself residing on the same floor as plug!sukuna..it was your first time living on your own. Fresh out of your parents’ house with minimal belongings and all of the savings you had managed to scrounge over the years. Enough to cover first and last month’s rent with some extra left over..working as a receptionist in a local doctors office by day and offering online tutoring services at night to suffice your income. You'd return home from your shift, ready to relax by at least eight o clock..meanwhile, plug!sukuna was just beginning his night. Heading out into the streets to do God knows what until the early morning hours. But he’d never leave until he’d done two things: said hello and made sure that you were straight. You never really understood the logic behind it..especially considering the fact that you weren’t exactly close friends or even acquaintances beforehand. Hell, he didn’t know you at all and yet, he was just as kind as an old lady bringing you cookies to welcome you to the neighboorhood.

nonetheless, plug!sukuna would always tell you “..keep that door locked, don’t answer that shit for nobody and call me if you need anything, aight?” his deep voice was the last voice you’d heard for the evening and the first when you awoke in the morning. Sometimes, he’d even bring you breakfast per your request and you’d eat together. You’d cut off all ties to your controlling, religious fanatic family and the narcissistic ex who’d all but attempted to stick you with a kid you didn’t want and turn you into his personal doll…trapped inside of the house with no purpose other than to serve him. It was the way all of the men in your former faith operated. But you weren’t interested. Not in the slightest. In fact, you wanted change so drastic, it’d make their goddamn heads spin! Over time, you’d grow closer to plug!sukuna. His second long check ins and warnings became full blown conversations as the two of you congregated downstairs in the pool area or at the mailbox for a cup of coffee. A cigarette dangling from his fingertips to go light once he went outside.

“I know this place seems nice and all from first glance but…imma let you in on a lil’ secret, baby. It’s all types of people who come here..looking for trouble and hell, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m part of the reason. That’s why I tell you to keep your door locked. Your pretty ass answers for the wrong person and somebody is bound to try and take advantage. ‘Damn shame I’d have to fuck someone up if something were to happen to you..”

plug!sukuna was sweet and endearing in his own right. But that’s what drew you into him..he was the very antithesis to what you knew men to be. Brutally honest yet so empathetic to your feelings. Rough as hell around the edges but a total gentleman. He may have done horrible things but he was a good guy..the best damn one you’d ever met. Unbeknownst to him, you’d watch him from the window leaving out; others surrounding him in the parking lot in similar cars. Blacked out with tinted windows..doing sleight of hand to pass something to other tenants who you’d recognized. Only what you could assume to be drugs. A couple of the guys you’d recognized from church, talking to deacons and pastors..now it’d all made so much more sense. Even so, plug!sukuna kept you out of that part of his life as much as possible. Eventually, some months would pass and it was a secret to no one that you’d grown quite fond of him..damn near smitten even.

however, plug!sukuna was adamant on not taking it there with you! He’d admitted himself that you were beautiful and in another life, any other circumstances..he wouldn’t hesitate to make you his. The problem was, you were still too vulnerable and he was knee deep in a lifestyle he wanted you to steer clear from. You were healing from years of trauma and downright abuse..trying to navigate this world on your own. If he were any other scumbag, he could have easily sucked you into his world and had you out here doing his bidding.

“(Y/N) baby..do you know how many girls just like you..who leave bad situations and end up in worse ones because some nasty motherfucker saw how vulnerable they were and used that to their advantage? How many girls went from being in the church to being on their knees for some pimp? I care too much ‘bout you to let that happen. I’m no good for you, I swear. You’d only end up hurt because I can’t give you all of me. Shit, I can’t even promise I’d make a good boyfriend. I’m selfish as hell, I’m always gone..I’ve slept with more women than I can remember. What could you possibly want with somebody like me, huh? What could I possibly do for you, (y/n)?”

but you saw right through plug!sukuna’s facade. He was gentle at heart..a romantic even. He wanted his person to spoil and adore just as much as you did. The streets were his only love for most of his life. He’d seen many things but nothing quite like you..those round, doe eyes; so innocent and pure. Pouty lips, chubby cheeks and the soft, ringlet curls that surrounded that gorgeous face. That soft, plump body and those thighs that rubbed together when you walked away. He wanted to devour you whole sometimes..many nights had plug!sukuna lied in his bed next door, thinking of you being on top of him. Those perky breasts jiggling as he bounced you up and down on his cock. Those nails clawed at his chest as sweat poured down his skin. But those thoughts were far too lewd and disgusting for someone like you! He was ashamed of even having them. But he couldn’t help himself..especially when that sweet, airy voice all but begged him to take you.

“Because I love you, Ryo..I love everything about you. Even the bad shit. I don’t care what you do because it’s not who you are..you’re the man that brings me food and coffee in the morning so I don’t have to rush before work. You’re the man who kisses my forehead when he leaves because you know, deep down..it could be the last time I see you. You’re the man who calls me every time he hears a gunshot or sirens because he worries himself sick about me when I’m not near him. You carry my laundry baskets and groceries, you clean my apartment while I’m sleeping because I’m too tired. And not once have you ever tried to touch me. You never made me repay you with sex or anything. You could easily hurt me and you can’t even bring yourself to raise your voice, even when I’m dead fucking wrong. No one has ever cared about me that much, boyfriend or otherwise and I don’t give a damn if you sell drugs or blow up buildings. A man who’d do all of that for me and never asks for anything in return is exactly who I want.”

plug!sukuna found himself dumbstruck for the first time in a long time..standing there with your small hand cradling his chiseled jaw, tears streaming down your face, he’d find that his own eyes were welling and burning. He’d never heard anyone speak about him in such a way. “Damn, I guess you can read me like a book.” Hell, he’d never acted that way with anyone else either. Yet here he was, treating you like a princess. He couldn’t pretend anymore..he had to be honest with you..and himself.

“I—I love you too, (y/n). So much..”

“Then make me yours. Right now..right here.”

“you know once we do this, we can’t go back..”

“Please..leaving the past behind is kind of my thing.”

it didn’t take long for your lips to meet in a fiery haze, tongues intertwined in a moment of heated bliss. Your hands roaming one another’s bodies as moans slipped through..your clothes all but becoming discarded heaps on the living room floor like a movie scene cliche. His lips traced from your neck to your collarbone; slightly dredging his teeth along the skin in the process.

“Here, baby..take my hand.” plug!sukuna, in one fell swoop hoisted you into his arms as if you weighed practically next to nothing. Continuing to feed you those slow kisses, he’d carry you to a nearby wall and part your thighs. With your legs resting on his shoulders, he’d mark every inch of you. From your sensitive nipples which he cradled in his mouth to that pudgy tummy he loved so much to that juicy center, which was practically leaking for him.

“This all me? Just from some kissing?..” “This is nothing. I touch myself every night thinking about you..you should see the mess I make then.” plug!sukuna could barely sate his urges now, hearing how nasty this supposedly innocent girl was for him! He wasted no time slithering his tongue into that aching cunt. Swirling it around on that throbbing clit, spitting into those pretty pink folds and those succulent brown lips encasing them. He feasted like a man unhinged; greedy and selfish as fuck, just like he claimed. You’d grasp a hold of those dark reddish and black locks, grinding yourself into his face. Rubbing his nose in between your slit.

“Mmmph! Ryo…” “Yeah, fuck my face. Don’t hold back now. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

plug!sukuna would eat your pussy until he heard you sobbing and felt that orgasm come barreling out. Your tight hole spasming on air as those juices trickled down his throat, chest and mouth. He couldn’t help but to laugh as he watched you writhe in pleasure. Attempting to push him away as you rode out that orgasm.

“Wha—how did you?—“ “What? I told you..I’ve had a lot of practice.” Choosing to omit the fact that he’d fantasized about you sitting on his face more times than he could count. Tossing you a wink and one final lick before carting you over to the sofa. Where he laid you down gently against the cushions…pinning those legs back whilst hovering over you. The entire time, he couldn’t take his gaze away from those gorgeous eyes..they glimmered so bright. Full of lust, adoration and excitement. No matter how much you smiled, he always sensed a certain emptiness behind them. A light stolen from you and now, he hoped to reignite it.

observing your movements, plug!sukuna began to chuckle when he saw you pawing at his crotch. So eager to unsheathe that hard on from his boxers. He could tell that the shy, bashful demeanor you presented was only a front. If given the opportunity, he could turn you into his personal slut with ease..but for now, he wanted to focus solely on making love to you. Giving you every part of him that he’d long to for months now. You’d examine his chiseled torso, reaching up to caress his abs and trace your fingertips along his various tattoos. But you couldn’t distract yourself from how large that bulge was..protruding and leaking with precum…

“Can I?—“ Go ahead, baby..take it out.” And without hesitation, you’d tug that elastic waistband back and let it spring forth. He was so girthy and long. Clean shaven and although he was erect now, you could tell he was huge even when flaccid. Nonetheless, plug!sukuna grasped those thick thighs of yours and mounted in between them; gliding that aching tip along your folds. ”Now you tell me if it hurts, okay baby? If I see you flinch or look uncomfortable, I’m pulling the fuck out. We clear?” And you knew when he spoke, that was law. Nodding in agreement, you’d consent to his terms as you rubbed your folds, waiting for him.

“Good..and tap my arm if you can’t talk. I’m ‘bout to start moving. You ready?” with your permission, he’d glide in slowly and immediately, he thought he’d seen stars! Plug!sukuna, by his own volition, had been with countless girls. From strippers to models, but never had he felt pussy this tight! The warmth immediately cradling him and not letting go. He’d suck his teeth before muttering a single ‘fuck’ under his breath. You were going to be some pressure, he was certain of it. But he’d continue on, gathering his footing and working that cock into your entrance. A single pop, along with wet, squishing sounds rang out across that living room as you lie underneath him.

“Goddamn…your shit feels incredible, baby. I know you had some good pussy..I can tell just by looking at you.” Forcing a wide, toothy smile on your face. You’d never heard him talk so vulgar but it was the side you’d brought out. He was officially obsessed!

“Yeah? Well I’ve been wanting to give it to for so long..I never thought you’d fuck me..”

“I kept you waiting, huh? I’m sorry..guess it just means we gotta make up for lost time then, huh?”

plug!sukuna was thrilled to know that he’d no longer have to hold back because you were on the same wavelength. You’d have no issues matching his energy..so with that, he’d speed up those thrusts. Pounding you with gentle but well paced strokes. The sound of your thighs and skin slamming together, coupled with the sounds of both your moans, made for a beautiful chorus. Your hands around his neck, scratching at his back; legs around his waist and his muscular arms planted right at your sides. Drilling you just as you’d requested and there was no limits between the two of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee..oh my goodness. I’m gonna come again!”

“You’re so fucking cute..damn..” adoring how you sounded squealing and laughing as you met his thrusts. He couldn’t believe how receptive you were and how it took no time at all for you to open up.

“And you look so pretty taking all this dick for daddy. I can’t stop staring at you.” That deep voice showering you with praise as his thick cock thrashed around your insides. Even though you had always been a bigger girl, he made you feel so dainty and small..like a precious treasure he never wanted to lose. “You deserve this, baby..to get fucked just like this. To be spoiled and get whatever you want. I can put you up..you ain’t ever gotta worry about shit. Not a bill, not rent, your family..I got you, baby. I promise. I love you..” You believed every single word and clung to them with every fiber you had. You’d never had anyone treat you with such grace and care before..and that wasn’t the end. He’d continue doting. Telling you how proud he was of you and how far you'd come. How he admired your strength to get out of your situation…he was in awe. plug!sukuna would continue singing your praises until he looked up and spotted tears coming down your face. He was tempted to stop until you told him that you were just fine. He on the other hand..was struggling to maintain his stamina.

“No no..please don’t stop. You just make me feel so good. No one has ever fucked me like this.”

but that alone seemed to ignite a second wind and in a moment of haste, you’d find yourself flipped over into your stomach with his entire body weight shifted on top of you.

“You mean that, baby?” Those outer fangs of his teeth glistening and mouth slicked with saliva as he began pounding you once more..hands pinned to your back and his frame covering your own. The plumpness of that ass ricocheting off of him as he penetrated those walls. You’d come once again, dripping onto the leather couch and making that aforementioned mess he’d been dying to see. This time, his pace was rougher..less structured and sporadic. He couldn’t help it..he was running on pure fumes, trying to give you the first time experience you deserved. Tugging your head back by those thick curls, plug!sukuna fed you the deeper strokes he could muster until those chocolate eyes rolled back.

“Y-yes! This dick is amazing..”

“Tell me who it belongs to. Who’s this good pussy belong to now?”

“Y-you, daddy. It’s yours! Oh fuck..”

never having uttered such lewd words in your entire life, you reveled in the fact that he had been the one to bring this side out. And now, you were about to bring a side out of him. One far more vulnerable than the public witnessed..one that would beg you to let him come inside of you and cry out your name in sweet ecstasy as he did so. You’d feel those warm seeds pouring into your womb as he came to a halt and you welcomed them. plug!sukuna didn’t hesitate to swaddle you in his arms for kisses and comfort.

“I don’t want this to end..tell me it doesn’t have to, Ryo. Can we be this way forever?”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, baby. I’m not going anywhere.“

and it was a promise he intended to keep. Not just as your neighbor or the guy next door looking over you. But now, as your lover and the man who’d never leave your side.

[monochromed-elf]

Random astro notes 1

╔═══════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══════╗

Take what resonates! I'm no professional astrologer.

These observations are made from my experiences.

╚═══════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══════╝

✮⋆｡ 6h Jupiter and easily gaining weight. especially if you're also Jupitarian.

✮⋆｡ 6h Jupiter also makes you suck at managing your time and tasks (Overly optimistic about it).

✮⋆｡ Again, my experience with 6h Jupiter and being called big animals.

✮⋆｡ Cancer Mercury and what is that handwriting of yours omg I'm sorry you're getting complaints about it😭 I can understand a doctor's paracetamol but not your hello.

✮⋆｡ Cancer/4h Lilith, your mother is most likely to hate on your friend with a Cancer stellium/prominent Cancer placements for no reason whatsoever. Especially if the friend is healing your mommy issues. Your mother will automatically think they're brainwashing you.

✮⋆｡ 4h Lilith also means you always try to save your mother. Don't do it. Stop that. Because she won't appreciate your attempts and will side with what hurts her! Learn that she's not your responsibility.

✮⋆｡ I feel like Gemini Mars will certainly space out during anything sexual, literally getting railed while thinking of taxes or whatever is going on. It's definitely the ADHD lol.

✮⋆｡ Gemini Venus please stop accidentally flirting with us, oh and the mixed signals.

✮⋆｡ Heavy water placements but with an Aries Moon can give off the vibes of the therapist friend with heavy random outbursts when they're tired of therapitizing everyone. Especially if Moon conjuncts Uranus.

✮⋆｡ All of the Capricorn Moons I know have heavy sociopathic traits.

✮⋆｡ Meanwhile Aquarius Moons can't stop blaming body chemicals for their emotions (dopamine and all of that).

✮⋆｡ "Choose the person who has your Moon sign as their Venus sign" is actually true. But it won't last long (maximum 2 years) and you both will become strangers. (unless you both meet daily or live together).

✮⋆｡ Mars conjunct Saturn will make you like BDSM a lot.

✮⋆｡ 4h Chiron, please do not create a family UNLESS you are healed. You'll traumatize all of your kids but fucking be an angel parent to other families. Similar with 5h Chiron but it's mostly with kids.

✮⋆｡ 4h/5h Chiron could be an indicator of being a narcissistic parent too. I'm indeed traumatized.

✮⋆｡ Always remember that Neptune=Delulu. Be careful where it is, it's both a blessing and a curse.

✮⋆｡ A close person's Venus in your 12h and omg they fucking appear in your dreams.

✮⋆｡ 9h Saturn are one of the most closed minded people I've ever met. They are seriously unable to see other perspectives.

✮⋆｡ The Sun House shows you how you treat your own dad. 11h sun: your friend, 10h: your boss, 4h: an actual parent Imao. It also can show why your dad loves or hates you because of such status: "I'm your dad stop treating me like a: (11h) friend/(3h) older brother/(5h) kid".

✮⋆｡ Fire IC/4h ruled by a fire sign is really a strong indicator of a bad family.

✮⋆｡ 3h Saturn natives bond by talking shit about their siblings.

✮⋆｡ 3h Saturn also might indicate having a loud voice (especially with prominent air signs placements).

✮⋆｡ 3h Uranus and yes 90% chance your siblings were unexpected, or you may have an unexpected story of a sibling (like you had a sibling that died before you or smth wild).

✮⋆｡ I find that Lilith/Chiron placements are so...damn, similar. Except that Lilith is horny and Chiron is actually serious about the problem lol. An example: 9h Lilith might fetishize their religious trauma/an experience with a foreigner. While 9h Chiron will be disgusted and crying and trying to fix fix fix. Lilith needs to be embraced as it is, Chiron actually needs the fucking healing instead.

✮⋆｡ One vs one opposite Nodes will either fix or ruin your life. For example you're an Aries North Node. A Libra North Node will be quite the teacher for you.

✮⋆｡ 5h/7h stelliums have the juiciest stories about their love life. But 7h is more likely to give you great advice about love lol.

✮⋆｡ Pluto conjunct Ascendant is very likely to look young compared to their age (my bestie being called a high schooler while she's in college damn).

✮⋆｡ Give a 3h Neptune alcohol and watch them become a professional poet and creatively high (Like those old Chinese/Arabic/Persian poets lol).

✮⋆｡ Neptune conjunct Ascendant, always seen as lazy and sleeps a lot.

✮⋆｡ Cancer/Pisces Mars can be actually super violent and not the usual passive aggressive shit. Especially in men.

✮⋆｡ (Vedic!) We always hate the type of men/women with our DK planet energy somehow (But we end up being really good with them). Mercury DK hates young and childlike people. Venus DK hating overly romantic and artistic people. It's life's way of saying SIKE—

✮⋆｡ Having the South Node in a sign and someone having a stellium/prominent placements of such sign (like, you being Leo South Node and you meet someone with Leo Stellium). Please run away from them. Early meetings and encounters with them feel like heaven but will slowly ruin you.

✮⋆｡ The same goes with your Rising Sign. If someone's stellium/prominent placements is in the same sign as your rising. The stellium person will be better than you at the things the sign values and your rising will become bitter. It'll be ugly. Go for people with your descendant's energy.

Thank you for reading💜

@monochromed-elf

[thedivinetarot]

Do you really think I give a damn what I do, After years of just hearing them talking?

Your current self Vs. Your future self

☆ How to chose your pile? 🦪🦪🦪

☆ Disclaimer:

- This is a general reading. If it doesn't resonate chose another pile or don't continue. Read with discernment, if you don't think this is not who you want to be then skip the whole reading.

- If the energy check didn't resonate with you then skip to the next portion

- This reading about your current vs. Future self (after 5 years from now).

☆ Note:

Since I have done a LOT of love and Future Spouse readings I wanted do something different. Perhaps for one self and because why not change the topic?

Lots of love and care💕

Arya.

Pile 1 - The sun☀️

1. Energy check:

Oh. My. God... okay, let's say hello first. So, hello darlings? How are you?🤍. I hope you are doing well💕. Let's get back... Oh. My. God. I see that someone here have just finished an endless nightmare. And by nightmare I mean... you probably was dealing with someone who is controlling, narcissistic, emotionally unavailable but somehow they are dresses in sheep clothes. I see that you put an end to your relationship with them. You put an end to your rose-tainted glasses on them. You might have been in limerence when it come to them but when you you got actually hurt and saw them for who they are you turned your head and walked away. I see that now, you are choosing your peace. You are choosing to heal on your own. I see that you are trying to balance your emotions and tap into your creativity. I see that someone here is hustling so hard. You are actually very independent. Maybe personally or financially or both. Because the energy here is so sharp, so strong. Someone here is smart AF. They know who they are but... the self-doubt come dressed in the pretty dress of "what if?" Or to be more specific.... "am I really that good or am I like them?" Aka the ones who have hurt you and disappointed you over and over again. Also, I'm sensing... water? Maybe you are in the bathtub reading this? Or you were in the swimming pool? Or you took a shower? Anyways, I felt water on my body. Anyways, you are cutting through confusion. Through pain. Through fantasies of "what could've been" but here's the twist.... that thing happened to teach you something. Not to leave you wounded and helpless. Chose your peace pile 1. Chose yourself 🤍.

Now, for your placements:

Strong Virgo, Gemini, Leo and pisces placements. Venus and mars in Virgo, mars in gemini, sun in Leo. Dominant planets in Mars, Venus, neptune. Planets or stallium in the 6th, 3rd, 5th, 12th house in your chart.

2. Your current self:

Now, you are someone who have a lot of creativity and passion. You have a taste for art and poetry. You enjoy painting or art in general. You like surrounding yourself with beautiful things and you have an eye for aesthetic. You are someone who is very smart, very discerning and sharp. Perhaps, you have a sharp tongue and people get offended a LOT by that but you can't help it. You don't know how to wear masks so you come off a little harsh or judgemental. You know how to invest in things wisely. And you know when and how to save up your money. You might struggle to get out of your comfort zone but you see the bigger picture anyways. You are that one person who knows why things happen but you are either clueless of how to get out of your comfort zone or just... feel like the odds are stacked against them. I see that you carry the pain of rejection. Perhaps you feel isolated or you feel like you don’t belong. Someone here is like... have been misunderstood a LOT in their life but people didn't even bother to understand you. So, you withdraw and learned how to feel comfortable in that solitude. You turned loneliness into solitude and pain into fuel to keep going. I see that you might be indecisive sometimes. You might get stuck in your own head and think that you are alone. I see that you are someone who have a rich emotional inner world. You enjoy a good romcom movie but you don't get stuck in your head wanting that to happen in real life. You have a great balance between idealism/ romanticism and being realistic. You might be a healer, an artist, a poet at heart. And you seem like you never tire or get bored of chasing your dreams. Awww pile 1, the energy here is so dreamy. You are someone who is very sweet and genuine. Don't let others dim your light or make you doubt yourself.

3. Your future self:

Hmmm... yeah, I see that you'll be more mysterious and clever. You won't be fooled easily by someone's emotional unavailability. You will be more discerning. And your boundaries are ice cold. No one will get closer to you unless their loyalty be tested. I see that you will learn how to take proper care of yourself. Your eating habits might change drastically. I see someone's appearance changing significantly. You might be unrecognizable by that time. I see that you'll be more social by that time. You'll dress differently, act differently and will be more open BUT discerning and stable. You might get the game (socially)? Yes, your relationship might not all be for authenticity but they'll serve a higher purpose in your future life. Perhaps you'll have a lot of useful connections that will elevate you socially but not all of them will be deep because until that time you'll learn who deserves and who doesn't. You'll stop being indecisive and take matters into hand. You'll value finer things in life more. Like... for example, your future house or home will be a work of art. You'll take good care of your own body, house and life. You'll flourish and I see you being stable financially. Your current hustle will pay off and you'll live comfortably the life that you are currently wishing for. I see that your future self is very busy, someone who juggles a lot on their own. You might be away from your family. Perhaps, you'll move out of your parents house and heal from the trauma that they caused. I see that by that time you'll drop a lot of weight physically, spiritually, financially, and most importantly emotionally. Since you are someone with great emotional depth and empathy it'll be easy for you to yk take everyone's emotional baggage on your own and sponge up their feelings like it is yours to carry. But in the future you'll drop that habit. It won't be something you'll do anymore. You will be a boss but not a bitch. Because you'll value your peace of mind and your money more than any fake or superficial connection. Thank you for reading this pile 1💕. Take care🤍.

Pile 2 - Sunflower🌻

1. Energy check:

Hello dears, how are you? I hope you are doing well🤍. Now, let's get into your energy check. Phew, I see that something rough have just ended in your life. I'm sensing here that perhaps for a very few people here, someone just ended a very rough marriage with a narcissist or psychopath. I see that this was a very painful karmic lesson. Now, for others who never were married or didn't enter any relationship with anyone I see that you finally ended a painful chapter related to self-worth and equal give and take. You might have struggled to be balanced in your personal relationships and you were taken advantage of for so many people. Perhaps for.... 5-10 years of your life? Yeah. Because I see a karmic contract here.... perhaps there was a contract between you and those people to learn how to be more balanced in your relationships. And to start pouring into your own cup before filling people's cups. I feel confused and sleepy. Someone here needs to reduce their screen time and go touch grass. You might need meditation and listening to frequencies that clear and balance your chakras. Omg, I'm struggling to move on to the next idea... it's like you guys (because of how terrible it was) you are weary and tired. You don't want to move on. It was like a horror movie. Someone here was severely abused by a parent. And in the many scenarios that I mentioned.... it turned you into someone who is watchful and cautious. You want peace... and in order to get there you had to use your brain and shut down your heart. The heart and throat chakra are closed or blocked. Emotions are so hard to face or swallow. You might have carried more of what you have the capacity to which lead you to frequent burn out and periods of isolation but still... you rise baby, you are stronger because of this. I'm so proud of you💕. Now, your placements:

Libra, Taurus, gemini, Aquarius, Scorpio. Dominant planets in Mars, Pluto, Saturn. Planets or stallium in the 7th, 2nd, 11th, 8th House in your chart. Mars-Pluto harsh aspects in your chart.

2. Your current self:

Okay, I see that because you have went through a lot which caused you pain and hurt you became someone who is obsessed with control. You are someone who is hyper independent who can't rely on anyone for anything. I see that you are someone who is very pushy and demanding and when someone doesn't meet you where you want you just leave them. I see that you are someone who is super busy. You might be enjoying warm weather and summer. You are someone who struggle with low self-esteem and anxiety or depression. Walking away from what is not serving you became easier than understanding why or trying. Someone here is either struggling with isolation or doesn't want to be isolated. You either love your isolation so much or doesn't tolerate being alone at all. You are someone who values traditions in romantic matters. You tend to get impulsive when you are excited about something without actually seeing the consequences. You have a very strict routine or care so much about how food should be prepared or served. You might be a picky eater too. I got two knight cards, and both are impulsive and hasty AF. You might come off as someone who is rude, blunt and arrogant. You might think that you are better than most people around you. You know how to be patient when it comes to your goals. In a period of your life you might have chased external validation or approval from the opposite sex or people in general. My left ear started ringing and it got hot. Are you clairaudience pile 2? Do you hear words, lyrics and voices? If you do so then you are not crazy it might be the divine or your spirit guides trying to get your attention. You have two sides to your personality. The first one is the blunt, rude and arrogant self. And the other side might be the control and tradition freak (I'm sorry tarot cards never lie, I'm not judging, here's a chocolate🍫). You might romanticize your struggles in an unhealthy way. But under all of that you carry a heart of gold and a sweet inner child.

3. Your future self:

Okay, by that time you'll be more realistic. And by more I mean... the things you are aspiring to have in the future (after 5 years) might come but not in the form you expect (remember this is a general reading). By that time you'll have finally healed from the things that left scars on your heart. Your hasty and enthusiasm will dim a little but not in an unhealthy way. I don't see depression but you'll be able to direct your energy in a more healthy directions. You'll be emotionally fulfilled on your own and you'll be more emotionally mature. I guess by that time you'll be married. If you are a female or feminine your masculine will be emotionally mature and sweet. And if you are a masculine or male your wife will be so confident and a diva, she a baddie. Anyways, you'll embody the archetype of the queen or king, emotionally mature and confident in your own skin. Your partner might not be someone you expect, like if you are trying to manifest a soulmate or twin flame it might not be one. But in all cases it'll make you happy. You might feel like you are out of alignment sometimes and you'll want to be aligned with your higher purpose. You'll be more collaborative and you'll drop the control act/mask. In the future you'll be more trusting and open to receive help from others because you'll be healed. You'll be more strategic and smart by that time. You'll have a healthy self-esteem by that time and you'll come off as more confident instead of cocky or arrogant. Your own cup will be full of your own love and energy instead of other's. And you might be traveling the world or states or countries. I see travels and movement for you after 5 years. You might relocate or change the whole country. Thank you for reading pile 2, take care💕.

Pile 3 - Stars ✨

1. Energy check:

Now, hello pile 3. How are you? I hope you are doing well💕. Let's get into the energy check. Okay, this pile is bored lol. I mean you are here just to waste time. But anyways you are welcome to waste as much time as you need. I see that you are financially stable or you are independent but... lately... you have been feeling super lonely. I see that this pile’s energy is monotone.... stagnant. Life is going in the same direction and you are bored of how things are. You probably thought of dating someone but the dating pool is quite murky for you. Like... you don't want to know anyone. Like.. you lost interest. I see that you have been focusing on yourself so HARD that you are very comfortable on your own but your solitude somehow turned into loneliness. Loneliness is that sneaky beast who come to you when you are scrolling through TikTok or IG looking at how happy some couples are and you can't even find someone to like. I see that you are very realistic when it come to that matter. You somehow know... that people are not who they seem. You read between the line very well. That's why your social relationships are all.... formal or work related. I see that you doubt your own worth sometimes. Or you recently found out that a friend of yours was or is jealous of you and you cut contact with her. I see that you are trying to heal from that relationship or you already healed and learned your lesson. You probably don't sleepy well lately. I felt tired all of sudden and sleepy, pls take care of yourself pile 3. Your health matter so much in the long run🤍. Now, oh God the energy here is super cold and detached. The person who is reading this is quite... cold and discerning, I'm talking about you of course if that is your energy then the reading is for you. I see that you are someone who believe in karma and... perhaps something happened in your work or university or school. Perhaps, you were in a project and people ignored your instruction and made you feel jaded. I'm sorry for what you are going through pile 3🤍. Karma will get them. Now, your placements:

Cancer, Virgo, Libra, Sagittarius, Aquarius, Aries. Venus in Virgo, sun in libra and Aries, mars in Capricorn, moon in sagittarius. Dominant planets in moon, Saturn, Neptune.

2. Your current self:

You are someone who have gone through a spiritual awakening or have been or still judged by other so harshly. I see that you have been criticized a lot throughout your childhood. Someone here have a perfectionist streak to them, perhaps you are the oldest sibling? Or have a problem with an oldest sibling? Anyways. I see that someone here have mental health issues and I'm not talking about social anxiety or panic attacks (though they count) I'm talking dissociation, bipolar disorder, Borderline personality Disorder, and heavy depression. I see that life didn't go easy on you. Someone here have mommy issues or have had a mother who was or still emotionally constipated and was harsh when it came to criticizing you. My head grew heavy especially the back of my neck. You might be someone who needs a LOT of time to recover after each social gathering. You see people for who they are and you know who is a narcissist or who is NOT and when you see that someone is not good you avoid them at all costs. I see that you feel isolated and you blame that on spiritual awakening but deep down you know that you have felt misunderstood so much now you feel jaded of relationships in general. But despite all that terror that you have gone through you still have hope, you still believe that life goes on. You still think that like will be better one day. I got the lyrics from lana heroin "Life rocked me like Mötley, Grabbed me by the ribbons in my hair, Life rocked me ultra softly, Like the heavy metal that you wear" though in her lyrics it wasn't something soft at all. I see that you are still emotionally reactive and this thing is stopping you to look at things more rationally, your reactions are driven by emotions. Now I'm not saying you need to fix it, just be aware that if you are under 25 it is normal to be this way, you brain didn't develop fully yet. I see that you are juggling a lot mentally. I see that you have been hurt A Lot in the past especially from your family.

3. Your future self:

After 5 years you'll be in a better place and you know that. First you'll be healed a lot from the past and you'll be more able to forgive your family and parents. I see that you'll struggle to be more social in the future which is okay, if you still doubt that you can handle relationships. If you are considering a relocation I'm not seeing it might happen because you'll be kind of confused where or how to start. Or you might be kind of.... not sure where you want to go and this will keep you stuck in your place. I see that your past disappointments will still be in your chest. But the way you deal with them will be different. Especially on how you handle your sadness. I see that in the future you'll be more stable financially. I see a big girl job and big girl money is waiting for you. I see that you might get a raise in your salary or become a manager of some sort or an HR. Your relationship with yourself and others will be more balanced than now. You might find a couple of people who will meet you where you want but believe me it'll be worth it. I see that in the future you'll be busier and you might struggle to balance your work life and personal life. You'll be more confident and you might come off as blunt or rude to some people. Your physical appearance will be more sexy and beautiful. You'll get a sexy boost or something. And finally karma will be on your side. Now I'm not seeing any marriage or life partner after 5 years for you but remember that this is a general reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't. That's what I'm seeing for you dear, take care❤.

Post date: 14th of June 2025 - Fri

*Feedback is appreciated

2✅ out of 4

[kwilquib]

We can't be Friends Anymore

Yuqi (🐶) x Male Reader (📖)

switching pov

Word Count: 13.6k

a/n: tried experimenting with switching pov in 2nd person, and testing some dividers format.

The campus hums—students sprawl on the lawn or dart between classes. You’re propped against the library railing, nursing a half-hearted coffee, when familiar faces roll up.

“Yo, isn’t Yuqi your friend?” one of them asks, a little too casually.

You already know where this is going.

“She is,” you confirm, watching as they exchange looks.

“So, she’s actually single?” another cuts in, voice skeptical. “No hidden boyfriend? No messy situationship?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Nope. No secret anything. Just her and her oversized ego.”

That seems to encourage them. Someone whistles low. “Damn. Think I got a shot?”

You pretend to consider it. “Honestly? Go for it.”

That gets a reaction—a few surprised laughs, one guy nudging the other in mock encouragement.

“I mean it,” you continue, shrugging. “Might do her some good to have someone other than textbooks and late-night ramen occupying her brain. She hyper-fixates way too much on school.”

“She does look kinda intense,” one of them admits.

“Oh, she’s a menace,” you say easily. “But here’s the thing—Yuqi’s also insanely narcissistic. If you confess to her, she’d eat that up. She lives to be reminded how pretty she is.”

That earns a round of laughter.

“So you’re saying I should just walk up to her, tell her she’s gorgeous, and I’m in?”

You smirk. “Depends. Can you handle being ignored for two weeks when she gets too busy? Or her texting you at 2 AM just to brag about an exam score?”

The guy groans. “Yeah, nah. I don’t have the mental strength for that.”

Another one shakes his head. “Dude, why’s it sound like you’re feeding us to the wolves?”

You lift a brow. “Hey, you’re the ones asking.”

They chuckle, muttering something about how Yuqi’s beauty really is a waste if she’s just gonna be married to academia forever. You don’t think much of it—this isn’t the first time people have asked you about her, and it won’t be the last.

Besides, it’s not like it matters to you.

“Asking about what?”

The voice cuts through the conversation, unmistakable and laced with curiosity.

You don’t even have to turn around. You already know.

Yuqi stands there, arms crossed, one brow raised in that signature I-know-you’re-up-to-something expression. She looks effortlessly put together despite probably running on four hours of sleep and an unreasonable amount of caffeine. Her oversized hoodie hangs loosely off one shoulder, and she’s got that ever-present glint of amusement in her eyes—sharp, calculating, and just a little too pleased with catching you off guard.

The group stiffens. One guy actually takes half a step back, like she might call him out by name.

You take your time, sipping your drink before finally acknowledging her. “Oh, nothing much. Just these guys wondering if you’re single and available.”

Her gaze flicks toward them, slow and deliberate.

“Hmm.” She taps her chin, pretending to think. “And? What did you tell them?”

You smirk. “Told them to go for it. That you’d love being reminded how pretty you are.”

Yuqi scoffs, but you don’t miss the way her lips twitch upward. “Wow. Advertising me like I’m a limited-time offer?”

“I mean, you are in high demand.”

She tilts her head, feigning boredom. “And yet, nobody’s brave enough to try.”

The guys exchange awkward laughs, none of them willing to step up to the challenge. One clears his throat and mutters something about being late for class before they all make a quick exit, leaving just you and Yuqi standing there.

She watches them go, then turns back to you, unimpressed. “You really have zero faith in my love life, huh?”

“Not my fault your standards are ridiculous.”

“They’re not ridiculous,” she argues, flicking a piece of lint off her sleeve. “They’re refined.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

She hums, studying you for a second too long. Then, with a smirk, she leans in slightly. “And what about you?”

You blink. “What about me?”

Yuqi’s grin sharpens. “Would you confess to me?”

She’s teasing, tossing it out like it’s nothing—just another jab in your years-long game.

So why does it land heavier this time?

“Hello??” She waves a hand in front of your face. “Stop zoning out like you’re actually thinking about it— are you?”

“Hell no,” you shoot back, forcing a laugh. “I know you’re full of yourself, but that’s taking it too far.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Right. As if you could handle me anyway.”

‘God, she’s so annoying.’

She’s good-looking—annoyingly so. The kind of person who doesn’t even have to try. But when she does, she’s exceptional. Yuqi never settles. If she can push herself further, she will. She likes to joke that her father drilled perfectionism into her at three years old. You believe it. It shows in the way she studies, the way she carries herself, the way she acts like the world should revolve around her—and sometimes, it almost does.

You met her at the start of college—multiple run-ins on the same day. Apparently, that was enough for her to decide you were friends. From then on, Yuqi stuck around, pulling you into her orbit.

Rumors, of course, followed. They always do. But your relationship with Yuqi wasn’t that. Never that. It wasn’t shallow, like something you could fall in and out of, love or hate.

Best friends. Neither too close nor too distant. Something steady. Something comforting.

…Or at least, it should’ve been.

~🐶~

“Then… I can live with you.”

The words cut through the gentle hum of the café, slipping into the space between you and her without warning.

Yuqi, halfway through savoring a forkful of cake, stilling at the sudden proposition. The sweetness on her tongue dulls as her mind processes what she just heard.

Outside, the streetside view stretches beyond the window, pedestrians weaving through the early evening rush, neon signs flickering to life. It had been a peaceful moment—her, indulging in dessert, the warm glow of café lights, the casual murmur of other patrons.

And then that.

Her gaze snaps up, eyebrows slightly raised. She had been so focused on her food, on the comforting ritual of eating something sweet after a long day, that she almost forgot she wasn’t sitting here alone.

Across from her, you sit, arms crossed, looking entirely too casual for someone who just threw out a life-altering suggestion.

“…What?” Her fork hovers, eyes narrowing as she rewinds the last five minutes. Housing gripes, sure. Minnie’s betrayal, yeah. But this? “Hold up—did you just say live with me? Where the hell did that come from?”

“You just said it a minute ago, aren't you in trouble because you got stood up?”

Yuqi clicks her tongue at the memory, the taste of betrayal lingering far worse than the cake melting on her tongue.

Minnie—her supposed roommate, her supposed friend—had bailed on her at the last minute.

She had just signed the lease when the call came.

"Yuqi… I’m sorry, I don’t think I can live with you… My boyfriend offered to live with him, and I couldn’t refuse. You understand, right?? Thank you…"

Yuqi had barely gotten out a, “Wait, what? Minnie, I just signed the lease—hold on—” before the call ended.

That was two days ago.

Now, here she was, sitting in a café with you, still trying to figure out how to deal with it.

And your grand solution? Living together.

Yuqi swirls her straw in her drink, staring at you like you’ve just suggested something insane—which, to be fair, you have.

“I also have to move next month,” you continue, unfazed. “My office is closer there. So it’s perfect timing.”

“No way. Too weird—thanks, but no.” She chugs her drink, as if that will help wash away the absurdity of this conversation. “For now, I’ll call the real estate office for a cancellation.”

“And your job starts next month,” you counter, unfazed. “Good luck apartment-hunting in zero time.”

“Hmm… I guess I’ll have to postpone my work too.” Her fork idly plays with the remains of her cake, breaking it down into a mess of crumbs. Just moments ago, she had been enjoying it, and now she can’t even bring herself to take another bite. “I’ll just go back to my parents’ house, and—”

“You can’t do that.”

Yuqi frowns. “What?”

“Did you forget? I also wanted to go home, and you didn’t let me. That’s the reason I got the job I was dreaming of.”

She clicks her tongue. “See what happens when you just listen to me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself— Give it up, you’re not pushing back your work.” You lean back, arms crossed. “Am I not your friend? Aren’t we supposed to help each other when we’re in trouble?”

Yuqi exhales, pressing her lips together. As much as she hates to admit it, you have a point.

It’s only temporary. A practical solution. Why shouldn’t she take it?

For the past two days, she had been dreading this mess—mentally calculating costs, debating whether she should force herself into a last-minute roommate arrangement with a complete stranger.

And now, just like that, you’ve handed her the perfect fix.

Her shoulders, tense from the weight of this problem, feel noticeably lighter. The only thing that irks her is that she didn’t think of this first.

“…Yeah, you’re right. We’re friends.” She leans back, eyeing you. “There’s no reason for me to decline. Especially not after all that pleading.”

“pleading?? I’m not the one who needs help here.”

“Fine. How much you chipping in?”

“Fifty-fifty. What, you think I’m just going to give you easy money?”

“If you’re volunteering…” She smirks, leaning in just enough to taunt.

You shake your head, scoffing. “Unbelievable.”

And so, the cohabitation between you and Yuqi begins.

~~~

There are private rooms, clear boundaries. As long as neither of you misjudges the sense of distance between you, nothing will change.

At least, that’s what you both assume.

The first few weeks go exactly as expected—well, mostly.

Yuqi doesn’t have to worry about rent anymore. There’s no awkward adjustment period, no need to tiptoe around like she would with a stranger. You’re not the worst person to live with, either. Sure, you’re irritating sometimes—leaving your notes scattered on the dining table, stealing the last of the coffee, acting smug whenever you manage to fix something she can’t—but she’s always known that about you.

What she didn’t expect was how quickly she gets used to you being there.

It’s the little things.

The way she hears the front door open and instinctively knows it’s you. The way you always leave the light on when you come home late because you know she stays up reading.

One night, she passes by the kitchen and finds you there, reheating food. You glance up. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

She shrugs, stealing a piece of your food before you can swat her hand away. “Hey—”

“It’s fine, I’m not that hungry.”

You exhale, shaking your head. “You do this every time. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

Yuqi frowns. “What?”

“You always scold me for skipping meals, but look at you.”

She rolls her eyes, but something in her chest stirs at the fact that you noticed.

It happens again when she comes home exhausted one evening and finds her favorite drink sitting on the counter. When she glances at you, raising a brow, you just shrug. “Thought you’d need it.”

And again, when she’s cramming for a presentation and you drop a snack beside her without a word.

She tells herself it’s normal. You’re friends. Friends do things like this.

Another moment.

Yuqi is in the kitchen early one morning, half-awake as she absentmindedly flips an egg in the pan. She isn’t much of a cook, but breakfast is simple enough—something warm to start the day before the madness of work and school kicks in.

She’s focused on the sizzling sound, the comforting routine of it, when she suddenly feels movement behind her.

Then—warmth.

You’re reaching over her, one hand bracing the counter beside her, the other stretching toward the cupboard above.

For a split second, she’s caught off guard by how close you are—close enough that she can feel the faint heat of your body against her back, close enough that she catches the lingering scent of your shampoo, something fresh and clean.

Her heartbeat stutters.

Instinct kicks in before logic does, and she turns around—only to make things worse.

Now, instead of your presence behind her, she’s face-to-face with you.

Too close.

Way too close.

Her eyes meet yours, and for some reason, it feels like neither of you moves for a second too long. Her pulse is loud in her ears, and she doesn’t know why she’s suddenly so aware of the way her breath catches—why her fingers tighten slightly around the spatula in her hand.

She’s being weird again.

“You…” She clears her throat, trying to sound unaffected. “Need something?”

You blink, as if snapping out of it, and gesture toward the cupboard. “Just getting a mug.”

Right. Obviously.

She mentally curses herself and quickly steps aside, turning her focus back to the stove. It’s nothing. You’re just tired. That’s all.

But then one morning, she walks into the living room, still groggy from sleep, and finds you sitting on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on your phone. Sunlight streams through the window, catching in your hair. You’re wearing that old, worn-out hoodie you refuse to throw away, looking like you belong there—like you belong with her.

And something about it makes her stomach flip in a way it shouldn’t.

Yuqi stands frozen in the hallway, gripping her coffee mug, heartbeat slightly off rhythm.

She doesn’t like where her thoughts are going.

She really, really doesn’t.

So she does what she always does when faced with something uncomfortable—she brushes it aside.

She’s just being weird.

It’s nothing.

It has to be nothing.

“Hey.”

Your voice cuts through the silence, snapping Yuqi out of her thoughts.

She blinks, stiffening slightly. “What?”

“You got any plans today?”

Her mind races. Why is he asking? Is he—wait, is he inviting me somewhere? A… date?

“Wh—why?” she asks, trying (and failing) to sound casual.

You shrug. “Nothing. Just asking.” There’s a pause before you add, “I’ll be home late, though. No need to wait up.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Since when do I wait for you?”

You don’t answer, and somehow, that makes it worse.

Irritated, she presses on. “Why? Where are you going?”

“Meeting someone,” you say, vague as hell.

Her brows crash together. “Wait—a date? What, you’re flaunting it now?”

You smirk, dodging the question, and something sour twists in her gut—she hates that smirk, hates how it needles her, hates that she cares.

Before she can push further, a realization slams into her. “Oh—shit, work!”

Panic sets in as she scrambles toward the bathroom, cursing under her breath. Just as she reaches the door, she pauses, whipping around to point an accusing finger at you.

“Fuck you, you did that on purpose. You were distracting me!”

From the couch, you barely glance up from your phone before lazily flipping her off.

She slams the bathroom door, heart thudding too hard to unpack.

Hours later, she’s a wreck—work crushed her soul, her boss barely grunted at her efforts, and every mistake she made still burns.

She doesn’t even remember how she made it home. Everything from today—the endless stress, the way her boss barely acknowledged her work, the stupid mistakes she made because she was too exhausted to think straight—it all clings to her like dead weight.

It feels even shittier knowing what today was supposed to be.

Her first work anniversary. One year. A milestone that should mean something, should feel like progress. Instead, she feels like she’s still fumbling, still struggling to prove herself, still barely keeping up.

Her head pounds. Her chest feels tight.

And maybe—just maybe—what makes it worse is that today also marks one year since she moved in with you.

One year of this place feeling like home.

But right now, standing in the entryway, shoes barely kicked off, she just feels… drained.

She wants to cry.

Not in a dramatic, loud way. Just… silently. Curled up on the couch, alone in the dimly lit apartment, where she could finally let go without anyone seeing.

She’s relieved you aren’t home yet.

She doesn’t have to keep it together.

With a deep breath, she pushes open the door—

Pop!

Confetti explodes, and Yuqi flinches, pulse spiking as cake-scent floods her senses.

Streamers dangle, a crooked banner sags on the wall, and there you are—grinning like an idiot with a party popper, like you didn’t just ambush her fragile grip on sanity.

“Congratulations!”

She just… stares.

The weight—dread, fatigue, the whole suffocating mess—frays apart, leaving her raw.

“You made it a whole year,” you continue, motioning toward the cake on the table. “That’s huge. So, you know… I figured we should celebrate.”

It’s too much.

Not in the way work had been too much.

But in the way you always are.

Always paying attention. Always noticing the things she doesn’t say.

Always making it impossible for her to pretend this—you—don’t matter more than they should.

Her throat tightens.

Her fingers twitch, and she grips the strap of her bag a little harder, like she needs to hold onto something—anything—to keep herself from completely unraveling in front of you.

Right now, she wants to collapse into you—arms, warmth, all of it—and that scares her shitless.

She swallows hard, choking out, “You’re an idiot,” as she steps past, voice thinner than she means it to be.

“You’re welcome,” you shoot back easily, like this is just another one of your usual exchanges.

She sets her bag down. Breathes in.

But it’s different now. Everything feels different now.

Because this isn’t something she can brush off anymore.

Not when the sight of you—standing there, waiting for her—could turn her worst day into something else entirely.

She thought to herself. At this rate…

… we couldn’t be friends anymore…

… Is what you thought.

It crept up on you slowly.

At first, living with Yuqi was just supposed to be convenient. A temporary solution, nothing more. You were friends—it was easy, effortless, like always.

But then, things started changing.

You woke up earlier than expected, your throat dry, half-asleep as you dragged yourself toward the kitchen.

But before you could even reach the sink, the bathroom door swung open—

—and Yuqi stepped out. signing in fragments, lyrics clearly improvised, steam curling around her like a scene straight out of a movie.

Your brain short-circuited.

Dripping hair. Bare shoulders. A towel wrapped hugging around her body, another loosely draped over her head. She wasn’t even fully dry yet, droplets trailing down her collarbone, tracing down to her chest, disappearing beneath—

Oh, fuck.

She froze mid-step, finally noticing you.

“Oh, shit!”

Your mouth opened before your brain could catch up. “Morning.”

Her grip tightened on the towel around her chest. “You—you’re up early.”

“And you’re… in towels.”

A beat of silence.

Don’t say something stupid. Don’t say something stu—

“Yeah, you have to stop doing that.”

Yuqi scowled. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I wouldn’t if that wasn’t my towel on your head.”

“why is it a big deal, this is my home—”

“I pay for half.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s my house. I’ll do what I want.”

And before you could argue, she yanked the towel off her head and chucked it straight at your face.

By the time you pulled it away, she was already gone, bolting to her room like her life depended on it.

Then—

A muffled scream of frustration from behind her door.

You exhaled sharply, pressing the towel against your face—less to dry off, more to hide the heat creeping up your skin.

“Fuck.”

Then there was this one time, when you were setting up the new shelf.

Yuqi insisted she didn’t need help—because of course she did—but five minutes in, she was already struggling to balance the frame while reaching for the screws.

"You're gonna drop it," you warned, watching from the couch.

"I'm not gonna drop it," she shot back, fumbling with the last screw.

The universe, apparently, took that as a challenge.

The shelf wobbled. Yuqi yelped. And before either of you could react, she lost her footing.

She crashed into you, sending you both toppling backward.

A thud, a gasp, and suddenly—

She was on top of you.

Chest pressing into yours. Hands braced on either side of your head. Her face so close that you could feel her breath against your lips, just barely—

Neither of you moved.

Yuqi’s eyes flickered down—just for a second, barely noticeable—before snapping back up, wide and unguarded.

You swallowed.

“…You okay?” Your voice came out rougher than intended.

“I—” She blinked, like she just realized what happened. Her breath hitched. Then, in the most unconvincing voice possible— “Yeah. Totally fine.”

Neither of you made a move to get up.

The moment stretched, tension thick enough to drown in.

Then—

“Yuqi.”

“What?”

“You're still on top of me.”

“…Oh. Right.”

She scrambled off, way too fast for someone who was supposedly “totally fine.” Turning away, she ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply.

You sat up, clearing your throat. The air between you still felt charged, buzzing with something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

She finally looked at you—pointedly not at your lips.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

You hadn’t even said anything yet.

And then there were the bad days.

Yuqi was loud.

You were used to it by now—the way she talked, argued, and debated like she was on some national stage. But tonight, it was worse. Her voice carried through the living room, sharp and insistent, cutting through the walls of your room.

You could tell she wasn’t just talking—she was venting.

You didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t step in.

Just waited.

Then—

A knock on your door.

Soft, hesitant. Almost out of character.

“…You wanna drink?”

When you opened the door, Yuqi was standing there, arms crossed, gaze flickering to the side. The frustration from earlier had dimmed, replaced by something more subdued.

You didn’t question it. Just grabbed your jacket. “Let’s go.”

The city felt different at night. Quieter, almost peaceful, the usual rush of people replaced by empty sidewalks and the occasional streetlight glow.

Yuqi walked beside you, hands stuffed in her pockets, gaze tilted toward the sky. The stars were faint, barely visible between the buildings, but she looked at them anyway.

“…You ever feel like you’re running out of time?”

You glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

She exhaled, kicking a stray pebble on the pavement. “I dunno. Just—sometimes it feels like I need to keep going. Like if I stop, even for a second, I’ll fall behind. And I hate that feeling.”

You stayed quiet, letting her talk.

“But then I think… what if I don’t even know where I’m running to?”

That, you understood.

You let the silence settle before answering. “You don’t have to figure everything out now, you know.”

She scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Is it?” You gave her a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s always giving me advice.”

Yuqi opened her mouth—then shut it, visibly chewing over your words.

You smirked. “Not so fun being on the other end, huh?”

She shoved your shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

The walk continued, and little by little, the weight in her expression faded. The tension in her shoulders eased, her usual energy returning in small doses—first in the way she kicked at a stray pebble, then in how she scoffed at one of your dumb remarks.

By the time you made it back to your place, she was… lighter.

As you reached the door, she stretched her arms above her head with a sigh. “You know what? I don’t think I need that drink anymore.”

You raised a brow. “So I got dragged out here for nothing?”

“I never dragged you—”

You gave her a look.

“…Okay, maybe a little,” she admitted, rolling her eyes. Then, after a beat, softer—“But it helped, so. Thanks.”

A pause.

Then, quieter—“I mean it.”

You stared at her, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a halo over her face.

Something shifted.

The air felt heavier, charged with something neither of you dared name. It would’ve been easy to brush it off, to make a joke and keep walking—

But before you could find the words, she turned away, already unlocking the door.

“Alright, I’m going to bed. Night, loser.”

The moment passed, or at least, it should have.

But just as you were about to head to your room, Yuqi hesitated.

She turned back, her hand lingering on the doorknob, lips parting like she wanted to say something—then stopping. You caught it then, the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, rare and fleeting.

And then, finally—

“…Hey.”

You raised a brow. “What?”

She exhaled, tapping her fingers against the doorframe. “Do you remember that stupid bet we made during freshman year?”

You blinked. “Which one?”

“The one where if either of us ever fell for the other, your dic…” She trailed off, then cleared her throat. “Y’know. And I’d have to shave my head.”

You let out a short laugh. “Oh. That bet.”

Back then, rumors about you two dating spread so quickly it became a joke among your classmates. You and Yuqi played along, turning it into a challenge—there’s no way we’d fall for each other. If either of you did, the consequences were extreme.

It was dumb.

It was funny.

It should’ve stayed that way.

But that night?

that night, the words felt heavier.

You studied her expression, trying to gauge where she was going with this. “Why? You getting nervous?”

She scoffed. “Pfft. You wish.”

But there was something in the way she said it. A little too quick, a little too defensive.

You smirked. “Worried about your hair, huh?”

“More like you should be worried,” she shot back, but she wasn’t looking at you when she said it.

You snorted. “Unfair, by the way. I have to cut my dick off, while you only have to shave your head. I can’t believe we agreed to it.”

“…Me either,” she mumbled under her breath.

It was so quiet, so fleeting, you almost missed it. Almost.

For a split second, neither of you spoke.

Then she rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I was just asking. Night, loser.”

Before you could respond, she was inside, the door clicking shut behind her.

You stood there for a second, staring at the empty space where she had just been.

Your bet.

Freshman year.

We will never fall for each other.

You exhaled, running a hand down your face as the thought echoed in your head.

It was supposed to be a joke. A ridiculous bet between two people who swore they’d never be that kind of cliché.

And yet…

Tonight happened.

You expected her to be surprised by the celebration. Maybe even a little annoyed at the mess—the scattered decorations, the cake waiting on the table, the small banner you hastily put together.

What you didn’t expect was the way her expression cracked—just for a second. The way her eyes softened, something raw and unguarded flickering across her face before she caught herself. Before she scoffed, gripping her bag a little too tightly, and muttered, “You’re such an idiot.”

You should’ve let it go. Just laughed, moved on, kept things the way they were.

But she didn’t move.

She stood there, caught between hesitation and something she wouldn’t name, and suddenly, it wasn’t just about tonight.

It was about all of it—the late-night talks when she came home exhausted but still found a way to smile, the quiet gestures, the way she made space for you without even realizing it.

It was the fact that today wasn’t just one year since she started her job.

It was one year since she moved in. One year since this place started feeling a little fuller. A little more like home.

And it hit you then.

All the moments that snuck up on you, that built up piece by piece until there was no more denying it.

Because at some point—somewhere between the shared space, the stolen glances, the lines you swore you’d never cross—

You started falling for her too.

The apartment was quiet except for the soft clinking of utensils against ceramic.

Yuqi sat across from you, the warm glow of the dining room light casting a soft hue over her face. She took a bite, chewing slowly, and then—there it was.

That small, bittersweet smile.

You didn’t know what it meant, not exactly. But you knew it wasn’t the usual smug grin she wore when she teased you, nor the triumphant smirk she had when she got her way.

It was softer. More subdued. Like she was savoring something that wasn’t just the food.

You should’ve looked away. Focused on your plate. Kept things normal. But you didn’t.

Instead, you watched her, your grip tightening around your fork as the weight of everything settled in your chest.

You weren’t looking at her as a friend. Not anymore.

After dinner, Yuqi disappeared into her room while you started cleaning up. You heard the faint rustling of fabric, the sound of a drawer closing, but you didn’t think much of it—until she reemerged.

She padded into the living room in an old t-shirt and a pair of short shorts, her hair slightly damp, probably from washing up. The sight of her like this—comfortable, effortless—made something twist in your chest, but you shoved it down.

Wordlessly, she plopped onto the couch as you finished wiping the table, then leaned back against the cushions, stretching her legs out lazily.

By the time you grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, she was already making herself at home, one arm draped over the backrest like she belonged there.

You handed her a can, and she took it without a word, cracking it open with a soft hiss.

The TV flickered in the dimly lit apartment, the background noise of a movie filling the space between you.

At some point, between the second beer and the slow lull of the film, Yuqi leaned into the cushions, her body naturally angling toward yours.

Neither of you said much—just the occasional comment, the quiet laughter. But even in the silence, it felt... easy. Comfortable.

And then the credits rolled.

The screen faded to black, leaving nothing but the soft glow from the city lights seeping through the window. The noise stopped.

And yet, you didn’t reach for the remote.

You glanced at her, watching as she traced the rim of her bottle with her thumb. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something contemplative in the way she exhaled, sinking deeper into the couch.

You hesitated, then asked, “Everything okay at work?”

She blinked, as if shaking off a thought. “Ye—yeah. Just some problems here and there, I guess.”

“Nothing you couldn’t handle, I assume.”

She snorted, tilting her head to look at you. “Of course not. Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

There she was again—the Yuqi you knew. The one who never backed down, who met everything head-on with that sharp, unshaken confidence.

But you’d seen her earlier. The way she lingered at the door. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes tonight.

You hummed, setting your bottle down. “That so?”

Her brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you mused, stretching your arm along the back of the couch. “Just wondering if the great Song Yuqi is finally showing signs of weakness.”

She scoffed, turning to fully face you now, eyes narrowing. “You—”

Then, without warning, she flicked your forehead. Hard.

You flinched. “Ow—what the hell?”

“That’s for being annoying,” she said smugly, leaning back like she’d won something.

Oh. That’s how she wanted to play it?

Fine.

You barely gave her a second to react before your hand shot out, fingers pressing into her side.

The moment she realized what was happening, her smirk vanished.

“Wait—no! No, no, no! Don't tickle me” she yelped, twisting away instinctively. “You—asshole—stop!”

But you didn’t stop.

“Think you can flick me and walk away?” you taunted, fingers digging into her sides, relentless as she writhed against the couch, laughter spilling wild between you.

You pressed in, grinning, chasing her squirming frame—her giggles breaking apart into breathless, jagged bursts. She swatted at you, sloppy and weak, but you had the upper hand, her strength no match for yours.

“Admit it,” you teased, skimming the tender spot just below her ribs, knowing it’d unravel her.

“N-never—!” she choked out, twisting under you, her voice fraying as she fought your grip.

The couch groaned under the tussle—her thrashing, your weight shifting—and without thinking, you slid forward, pinning her deeper into the cushions. Your knee nudged between her thighs, pressing firm against her heat.

It didn’t register at first—too lost in the game, her laughter ringing sharp and bright. But then her giggles stumbled, thinning into ragged breaths. Her hands, once shoving, latched onto your arms, fingers digging in—not pushing now, but clinging.

You felt it—the hitch in her chest, the way her body stiffened, then softened, melting against you. Her laughter faded, replaced by something breathier, needier—a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a plea.

And then it slipped out—a moan, soft and unbidden, trembling past her lips.

Everything froze.

Your fingers stalled against her waist, her nails bit into your skin, and the air turned thick, electric. Her eyes snapped wide, lips parted, shock flickering over her face as her breath raced—short, shallow, unraveling.

Your pulse thundered, drowning out the silence, and that’s when you clocked it—your knee, still wedged between her thighs, pressed flush against her warmth.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

The laughter was dead.

Something else took its place—hot, heavy, and undeniable.

You cleared your throat, a feeble attempt to break the spell, to shake off the weight of what had just happened. Slowly, you pulled away, putting space between you before you lost the will to.

Your eyes flickered anywhere but at her—afraid to see what lingered in her expression. Fear? Surprise? Or something else entirely?

You pushed yourself up, ready to remove yourself from the couch, from the heat still clinging to your skin—But then. A tug. Subtle, hesitant.

Fingers curled around your wrist, just tight enough to stop you. To hold you in place.

To keep you from leaving the moment.

You turned, catching the flush creeping up her neck, her lips parted as she refused to meet your gaze.

“Yuqi…” you groaned, your voice strained, warning.

Her grip on your wrist tightened. “Do—don’t leave.”

That was all it took.

You moved back toward her, hesitant but drawn in all the same. The space between you shrank, your breath mingling with hers, lips barely a whisper apart. Her fingers twitched against your skin, but she didn’t pull away.

You could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her chest rose and fell, the way her body swayed ever so slightly in your direction. Just a little more and—

“Wait—!”

Her hands shot up, pressing against your chest—not forceful, not pushing you away completely, but enough to halt you in place.

Your jaw clenched. You stayed there, hovering, pulse hammering in your throat.

“What do you want, Yuqi?” you asked, your voice low, steady despite the storm inside you. “Be clear with me.”

She hesitated, eyes darting anywhere but yours. You felt it—the war within her, the pull and the push, the fear and the want.

You exhaled, nodding slightly. “Okay.”

You started to move back, giving her the space she seemed to need—

But then, just as you did, her arms looped around your neck, her body pressing against yours, her warmth, her scent, her head rising for her lips to meet yours.

Briefly, she pulls away gauging your reaction.

You cursed under your breath, a quiet, ragged sound, because you knew—knew—that if she kept holding onto you like this, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

Your hands found her waist, fingers curling instinctively, and before you could think better of it, you scooped her up.

Yuqi gasped, eyes widening. “Wha—what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You carried her past the dimly lit hallway, You stop at before the doors of your rooms.

Yuqi who had grasp your intention, murmured close to your chest “Mine—my room.” giving a answer to your conundrum.

Carrying her through the threshold of her room, our grip firm yet careful, your body thrumming with something dangerously close to surrender.

Then, as gently as you could, you set her down.

The bed dipped beneath her weight, her body sinking into the sheets.

And for a moment—just one agonizing moment—silence stretched between you. To pause. To asses. To decide.

Her breath came in uneven waves, fingers clutching the comforter beneath her, knuckles whitening as if it were an anchor. She looked like she was bracing herself—teetering on the edge of a decision, weighing what came next.

You hovered above her, resolve fraying, the heat of her body pulling you closer, unraveling every thread of restraint—

“…The—the door,” she whispered, voice barely audible, trembling with something fragile.

You pulled back, glancing toward it. “If I lock that, there’s no turning back.”

Her eyes flickered, wide and searching, then steadied. “I—I think it’s… it’ll be okay. If it’s you, I want it.”

The door clicked shut with her words, a soft, final sound that echoed in the quiet. You returned to her, sliding back onto the bed, looming over her frame—close enough to feel the faint tremor in her breath. “Do you even know what you just said?”

“Stop talking to me like a kid,” she snapped, her voice sharpening, though it wavered at the edges.

“That’s not an answer.” You held her gaze, unflinching. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Uh… yes.” The word slipped out, small and shaky, laced with fear and a defiance testing her own limits. She swallowed hard, then added, “Why? Don’t you want to?”

You shifted closer, your nose brushing hers, so near you could taste the alcohol on her breath—sharp and warm, mingling with the heat radiating off her skin. Her heavy exhales grazed your lips, and the air between you thickened, charged with something neither of you could name.

“What is this?” you murmured, half to yourself. Song Yuqi—bold, unshakable Yuqi—lay beneath you, face flushed crimson, pride crumbling into doubt. Her words stumbled, her usual fire dimmed, and you couldn’t help but press. “Are you really Yuqi?”

Maybe you were stalling too—teasing her, skirting the edge of what you both knew was coming, afraid to leap.

Then, out of nowhere, her hand shot up, smacking your chin with a clumsy shove, forcing distance between you.

“Ugh! I don’t know anymore, okay?! I haven't done this before!” she yelled, voice cracking with frustration. “Just—hurry up and show me your dick already!”

Her legs thrashed, feet flailing against the mattress in a wild, petulant burst. “You—crazy—woman” you blurt out.

You lunged forward, seizing her ankles, pinning them to the mattress with a firm, unyielding grip. “Calm down,” you said, voice low and steady, anchoring her as her chest heaved, the wild outburst dissolving into a taut, trembling stillness.

Her eyes flashed, defiant even now. “What, are you scared?”

You leaned in close, her challenge igniting something reckless in you. “You’re about to get fucked senseless.”

She smirked, unshaken, her voice a dare. “I think you’re the one who’s sca—sacred. Prove it.”

You crashed into her, lips seizing hers with raw, tongue intruding into her mouth, bruising hunger. Your hand slid up, fingers knotting in the back of her hair, yanking her closer—deeper—until no space remained, her frantic breaths fusing with yours in a desperate, unrelenting tangle.

Your other hand found her breast, cupping it firmly, and a sharp whimper broke from her throat—soft, unguarded, trembling against your mouth.

You pulled back just enough to rasp, “Do you want more? Tell me if you don’t.” “Ah!” she gasped, startled by the sudden absence of your lips, her voice faltering. “Uh—uh… it’s okay…”

You dove back in, claiming her mouth again, fiercer now, your hand slipping beneath her shirt.

Fingers roamed her chest, squeezing through the thin fabric of her bra, rucking up her clothes in the chaos. The hem of her shirt climbed past her breasts, her bra tugged askew—one pale pink nipple already peeking free, stark against her skin.

“Yu—qi,” you murmured, breaking the kiss again, though your lips hovered close, tethered by a glistening thread of saliva that refused to snap. “Do you want this?”

“I want it, yes,” she panted, breathless, her words tumbling out in a rush.

You guided her arms up, stretching them straight above her head, and she followed—pliant, trusting.

Your hands gripped the edge of her dress, peeling it upward, sliding it off in one fluid pull. Then, just as swiftly, you hooked her shorts, tugging them down as she lifted her legs to help, the fabric slipping free and pooling forgotten on the floor.

There she lay—pale skin glowing faintly in the dim light, her fit frame taut and trembling. Blonde hair spilled across the bed in wild, tangled waves, framing her like a halo gone rogue. Her white underwear clung to her hips, stark against her flush, one bra strap sagging, the displaced cup exposing a modest breast, its pink nipple hardened in the cool air. She blushed deep, one arm crossing shyly over her waist, the other hovering near her mouth, fingers brushing her lips as if to hide.

Her eyes darted away, unable to hold yours. “Why are you just staring?” she mumbled, voice small, edged with nerves she couldn’t quite mask.

You exhaled, a faint chuckle slipping out as you shook your head. “I’m just trying to figure out how you still look like a menace even when you’re—” Your words snagged mid-sentence as her glare cut through you, her cheeks blazing.

“Don’t,” she warned, voice tight.

You smirked, tilting your head. “Don’t what?”

Her eyes narrowed, sharp and accusing. “You know what.”

You leaned in, your breath grazing her skin, close enough to feel her tense. “What? I thought you lived for praise about your beauty.”

She swallowed hard, throat bobbing, fingers twisting into the sheets. Then, so soft it nearly slipped past—

“It’s different when it’s you.”

“Well, you are beautiful, Yuqi. I mean it.”

Her breath hitched at the words, a flicker of protest rising—ready to snap at your sly jab—but before she could, your lips found her neck, pressing firm and warm. Your hand slid to her breast, fingers brushing the exposed nipple, teasing it into a stiff peak.

She stiffened, a fleeting push against your chest, but it melted away fast—her resistance crumbling as you lavished her skin with attention.

“It… tickles,” she murmured, voice wobbling, half a complaint, half a surrender.

Your hand snaked behind her, deftly unhooking her bra with a flick. You tugged it free, letting it fall aside, her breasts spilling out—modest, pale, and perfect in the dim light. No hesitation—you dove in, lips closing over one nipple, sucking gently while your fingers toyed with the other, rolling it between them.

“Hey,” she gasped, a shaky laugh threading through her words, “aren’t you too good at this?”

You didn’t answer, too lost in her—her taste, her warmth, the way her whimpers grew sharper, rewarding every flick of your tongue, every pinch of your fingers. You pulled back, just enough to take her in fully—sprawled beneath you, clutching the sheets with white-knuckled desperation. Her blonde hair fanned wild across the bed, pale skin flushed deep, chest rising and falling in jagged bursts.

Your hands returned, pinching both nipples now, firm and deliberate. Her eyes—barely open—fought to hold yours, glazed with pleasure, her tongue slipping out as her mouth parted. Words failed her, dissolving into a string of moans and broken whimpers, the only sounds she could muster as she drowned in the sensation.

Wa—wait a sec…” She propped herself up against the pillow, hands darting to your face. Her fingers dug into your cheeks, pulling you in—too close, her touch firm and insistent.

“Kissing really feels good, don’t you think?” she mused, voice lilting with forced casualness. Her thumbs brushed slow, deliberate circles against your skin, betraying the act. “Especially when you feel it—you know, with tongues and everything.”

You arched a brow, amusement curling your lips. “Are you fishing for a kiss?”

She scoffed, but her hands didn’t budge, fingers lingering like they’d fused to you. “I’m just saying,” she huffed, eyes flicking aside, dodging yours. “No harm in a little discussion, right?”

You smirked, reading her like an open book—her little game, the way she circled what she craved, betting you’d cave first. “Just discussing, then?” you teased, tilting your head with mock innocence. “So I shouldn’t do it?”

Her grip faltered, a flash of panic skittering across her face. “I didn’t sa—”

She didn’t finish.

Your lips crashed into hers, silencing her protest, swallowing her words in a swift, ravenous press. Her breath snagged against your mouth, a sharp hitch—and for a fleeting second, she froze, caught off guard. Then she melted, hands slipping to grip your jaw, and before you could take control, her tongue darted forward—bold and sure, sliding into your mouth like she’d been waiting for this all along. The kiss deepened fast, tongues clashing in a messy, heated tangle, her pretense torched by the hunger she couldn’t hide.

Your hands roamed, restless—sliding down her sides, then lower, until they settled at her crotch. Fingers brushed the fabric of her panties, then slipped beneath, meeting slick heat that made your pulse jump. She was already wet, soaked through, and a low groan rumbled in your throat as you felt her.

You pulled back from the kiss, lips parting with a wet smack, and her eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy. Your other hand hooked into her waistband, yanking the white fabric down her thighs in one rough tug, peeling it free and tossing it aside. She gasped, legs trembling as the cool air hit her bare skin.

“Already this wet?” you teased, voice gravelly, a smirk curling your lips. “You little pervert.”

Her face blazed red, embarrassment clashing with a spark of defiance in her eyes, but she didn’t pull back—her breath jagged, teetering between a snap and a whimper.

“Dum—dumbass, that’s what happens when—”

You didn’t let her finish. Your fingers pressed to her folds, slick and warm, rubbing along her slit with slow, deliberate strokes. Her grip on your neck tightened, nails biting into your skin, while her other hand fumbled to clutch your arm, trembling as her tongue slipped out, instinctive and desperate.

“Wha—what are you doing? St—stop—” she stammered, voice fracturing, but her hands betrayed her, sliding back to clutch the pillow behind her, knuckles whitening as she braced against the onslaught. “It fee—it feels weird. Really weird!” she cried, her tone pitching into a yell, raw and unraveling.

Her body locked tight for a split second—then shattered. Her back arched sharp off the bed, head snapping back into the pillow, a convulsion ripping through her as her thighs quaked. A rush of wet heat surged against your hand, her juices spilling out, soaking your fingers and dripping onto the sheets beneath. Her breath came in broken gasps, chest heaving, her tongue lolling slightly as the waves crashed over her, leaving her trembling in their wake.

“Fuck… shit…” she rasped, hands flying to cover her face, the flush so deep it seemed to bleed through her fingers, staining them red.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why are you suddenly cursing?”

“No, no, I mean…” She peeked through her hands, voice small but edged with frustration. “Be—because my sheets… they’re all wet now.”

“Oh, uh… sor—sorry…” you muttered, heat creeping up your own neck.

Her eyes flicked to yours, still glassy from the haze, then narrowed with a glint of mischief. “Then… hurry up and take off your pants already,” she ordered, voice low and impatient.

You rose to your feet on the bed, shedding your pants and briefs in a quick, fumbling pull, letting them drop away. Your dick sprang free, hard and hovering above her as she sat back on her knees, gazing up at you. The sight alone—her pale, flushed body, blonde hair spilling wild, those sharp eyes locked on you—hit like a punch, and her intense stare only made it worse. You couldn’t hold it; your gaze skittered away, heat crawling up your neck.

“Hmmm… hey, what’s wrong?” she hummed, a smug grin creeping across her lips. “Why’re you suddenly shy now?”

“It’s reasonable with this view,” you muttered, voice snagging in your throat, barely dodging her piercing stare.

“Is that so?” Her smug grin bloomed wide, teetering on a giggle. She edged closer, her face drifting nearer—dangerously near—to your cock, so close a twitch could’ve brushed her lips. Then her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your length, forming a tight ring just below the head. The sudden heat of her grip hit you hard—soft skin, firm pressure, a jolt of warmth that shot straight up your spine, making your breath catch and your hips tense instinctively. She started stroking, slow and deliberate, her palm sliding smooth against you, each pull tugging a raw, electric pulse through your core. “How is it? Is it okay? Does it feel good? Does it hurt?”

“You know, for someone who doesn’t know what she’s doing, you’re pretty damn bold,” you said, half-breathless, a smirk tugging despite the way her touch was unraveling you—every stroke a tease, her fingers tight enough to edge you toward losing it.

She ignored you, eyes flicking up with a glint of mischief, her hand keeping its rhythm—steady, maddening, the friction building heat that made your thighs twitch. “Doesn’t it feel good? Are you in paradise yet? You can cum—go ahead, it’s fine! Cum quick! Why aren’t you cumming? What’s wrong?!” Her questions tumbled out, fast and insistent, voice rising with a mix of glee and frustration.

“Yuqi, calm down,” you managed, voice straining as her pace quickened your pulse, her grip coaxing a throb you could barely hold back. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“It’s so warm,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips, “I could use it as a hand warmer.”

“Then tell me when you’re cold next time,” you shot back, half-jesting, legs trembling as you teetered between giving in to the pleasure and laughing at her ridiculous innocence. “I’ll whip it out for you.”

Her hand stilled mid-stroke, eyes snapping up to meet yours—sharp, focused, like she’d just clocked her next move and was weighing whether to go for it. Then she did. Her lips parted, soft and tentative, brushing against your tip. She pressed forward, mouth opening wider, her tongue flicking out to guide you in, warm and wet as it curled around the head.

She lingered there, treating it like a lollipop—licking slow, deliberate laps, tilting her head with each pass as if testing every angle. Her movements were clumsy, unpracticed—teeth grazing you now and then, a faint scrape that sent a jolt through you. A stray thought flickered: She might actually bite it.

And then, as if she’d snatched the thought right out of your skull, the ever-impulsive Yuqi went for it. Her teeth clamped down—not hard, just a quick pinch—sending a jolt of shock and a strange, sharp thrill spiking up your spine.

“Fuck—let go, you dumbass!” You yanked yourself back, pulling free from her mouth with a hiss.

“What the hell made you think biting it was a good idea?!”

“Ahh, sorry, sorry—I’m really sorry!” she blurted, eyes wide with panic, guilt flooding her face so fast it almost convinced you she didn’t mean it. “I didn’t even realize what I was doing!”

“Song Yuqi, get over here,” you said, voice firm, cutting through her fluster.

“Ar—are you okay?” she stammered, inching closer, her tone softening like a scolded puppy caught in the act. “Looks like you’re fine, though…”

You tugged her by her waist, laying her flat on the bed, your hand curling around her hip to pull her close. Fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from her knees up to her core, brushing her skin with intent. “Why’d you try to bite me? Do you want to be scolded, is that it?”

She turned her head, dodging your stare, her voice sinking to a sheepish mumble. “It looked delicious… so I thought I’d take a bite…”

You leaned in, capturing her lips again, kissing her deep and slow as you shifted between her thighs. Your hands nudged her legs apart, her skin warm and trembling under your touch. Your cock brushed her folds—slick, hot, a fleeting graze that made her breath hitch against your mouth.

You pulled back, eyes dropping to your shaft, guiding it with a steady hand. Your tip nudged her entrance, teasing her pussy with shallow dips, testing her heat. “Yuqi, you want to keep going?”

“Huh… How—how many times are you gonna ask?” she huffed, voice quivering, each word stuttering in time with the faint pulses of your cock against her. “Are you deaf…?”

You pressed in, your tip slipping past her entrance, sinking just enough to feel her tighten around you. A whimper spilled from her lips, quick and sharp, and you froze. “Are you alright? Should I go slower…?”

“Y—yes…!” she gasped, breaths shallow and ragged, holding them like she could trap the sensation inside.

“Yuqi, I want you to be comfortable,” you murmured, voice low, careful. “Tell me if it hurts—”

“Hey…” Her eyes glimmered, wet with tears—some already streaking down her flushed cheeks. She grabbed one wrist with her other hand, pinning her arms above her head, a shaky attempt at control. “Fu—fucking a beauty like me must feel good, right…?”

Even now, she bluffed—voice cracking, bravado fraying—but she wasn’t wrong. She felt incredible, her walls gripping you tight, pulsing hot around the bare inch you’d slipped inside, coaxing you deeper despite her trembling.

“…You just want to keep messing with me, don’t you…?” she murmured, eyes glinting through the haze.

“You keep doing it too,” you shot back, a faint smirk tugging at your lips.

“I’m gonna move a little,” you said, voice low. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“Mmhh,” she hummed, nodding faintly, her breath already shallow.

You pressed deeper, sliding slow and steady, her heat swallowing you inch by inch. Her body tensed, a soft gasp escaping as you sank further.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, pausing. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, voice thin but firm, her eyes locked on yours.

“Then I’ll move a little more…?”

Your hands slid to her thighs, fingers digging into her soft flesh as you pulled her closer, burying your entire length inside her in one smooth thrust. She clenched around you, a tight, wet pulse that made your breath hitch.

“You’re really okay…?”

“Yeah… I’m good,” she managed, a shaky edge to her words. “Just… carry on, alright…?”

You grabbed her wrists, pinning them between you, tugging them toward your chest as you started to pump—slow at first, each thrust deliberate, feeling her stretch and yield. Her breath stuttered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Wha—what’s this… it feels so weird…” she gasped, voice breaking as her body rocked beneath you.

You quickened your pace, pounding faster, harder—stamina leaching with every sharp snap of your hips. Her moans poured out, jagged and piercing, swelling louder as you drove into her. Then, with a final thrust—deeper, fiercer than the rest—you buried yourself to the hilt, her head whipping back into the pillow, back bowing high off the bed. A raw, guttural moan ripped from her throat, her body quaking beneath you, clenching tight around your cock.

Out of breath, you propped yourself up on your arms, hovering over her sweat-slick frame. “Yuqi, you sure you’re okay? Should I go slower?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes despite the flush on her cheeks. “I told you I’m fine already—”

Her complaint drowned as you thrust back in, cutting her off, plunging deep to reclaim your rhythm. Her moans sang out again, sharp and sweet, and you drank them in, one hand finding her breast—cupping it firm, kneading the soft flesh, her nipple stiff and pressing into your palm like a needy pulse. You used it as leverage, anchoring yourself as you rocked into her.

“Raise your back,” you ordered, voice rough. She obeyed, arching up, and your hands slid to her waist, gripping her hips tight. With the new angle, you pulled her against you, thrusting harder, each slam sinking you deeper—her heat swallowing you, slick and tight, tugging you toward the brink.

The edge hit fast. Her walls spasmed around you, hot and relentless, a sudden, vise-like grip that yanked you over. You groaned low, thrusts stuttering as you came—thick, pulsing spurts flooding her, the wet heat of her pussy milking every last drop, a dizzying rush that blurred your senses. Yuqi shattered with you—her moans spiking into a broken cry, legs trembling, nails clawing the sheets as her climax tore through her. Her core clenched hard, a gush of warmth soaking you both, her body bucking against yours in wild, shuddering waves.

Exhausted, you slumped toward her, chest heaving. She met you halfway, mouth open, greedy—her lips crashing into yours, tongue darting out to pull yours in, tangling with a sloppy, desperate edge as she rode out the aftershocks pressed against you.

~🐶~

Yuqi teetered on the edge of consciousness, drunk on pleasure, her mind barely clinging to coherence in the quiet lull. She slumped back against you, her spine pressing into your chest as you hugged her tight from behind, your back braced against the headboard. Her breath came slow, ragged, her body limp yet humming with the afterglow.

Exhausted but not sated, she stirred as your hands roamed again. One slid to her breast, cupping it gently, fingers teasing the still-hard nipple—rolling it slow, coaxing a faint shiver from her. The other dipped lower, finding her clit, rubbing soft circles against the swollen bud. Her folds, slick and warm, rested heavy against your dick, subtly coating it with her dripping heat, a fresh trickle of her arousal seeping out as her body woke anew. She squirmed, a sleepy moan slipping free, her hips twitching instinctively into your touch—chasing more despite the haze.

Her mind spun, fragmented thoughts flickering through the haze: What should I do??

I’m actually doing it with him—with you.

Having sex with my friend—with you, of all people.

Yuqi’s thoughts snapped off, severed by a single, brutal thrust as you plunged back into her. Her body jolted, pinned tight against yours—your arms clamped around her, refusing her even an inch to squirm. A raw, involuntary moan tore from her throat, heat flooding her core as your cock filled her again, stretching her slick walls with a sudden, relentless pressure that made her head spin.

“You—you jerk!” she gasped, voice fracturing, each word sliced by whimpers and moans she couldn’t choke back. “Why did you suddenly—” Her sentence crumbled, drowned by the waves of pleasure rippling through her, your thrusts relentless, robbing her of breath and coherence. Her hand shot back, fingers tangling in your hair, yanking you closer in a clumsy, desperate retaliation—her nails scraping your scalp as she fought to reclaim some control.

“Fuck! It… feels so… good…” she moaned, the confession spilling out, her voice thick with surrender. Every slam of your hips sent a jolt through her—her insides clenching tight around you, a tingling heat pooling low, her thighs trembling against the onslaught.

Yuqi twisted her head toward you, lips parting, tongue lolling out in a silent plea. You met her halfway, your mouth crashing into hers, tongues tangling in a sloppy, wet mess—her saliva mixing with yours, sharp and bitter on her tastebuds, a hungry edge to the kiss that made her dizzy.

You paused, buried deep inside her, your length a thick, unyielding pressure stretching her core. Your voice rasped hot against her ear, rough and taunting. “Yuqi, why are you moaning so loud? You’re a total pervert, aren’t you?” Your hand clamped onto her breast, squeezing hard, fingers catching her nipple—pinching with a sharp twist that sent a jolt of heat stabbing through her chest, her skin tingling, raw under your grip.

“Wha—what?” The sudden stillness yanked her from her euphoria, your words sparking a flare of annoyance in her hazy mind. “I’m not a pervert! This is because—”

Her protest died as she felt you shift inside her—a subtle, deliberate twitch, just enough to press against her walls, sending a fresh ripple of pleasure curling through her belly. A whimper slipped out, soft and traitorously loud, snuffing her temper before it could catch.

“Is it because it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you teased, voice low, your breath grazing her neck. “You’re fully fitted to my cock now, is that it?” It wasn’t just a taunt—it was a truth she couldn’t dodge. She felt it: her body molded to you, slick and tight, every inch of her clinging like she’d been made for this. Denial burned on her tongue, but her silence betrayed her.

For a heartbeat, the air hung thick—then Yuqi felt it again. Your cock twitched inside her, a sudden, firm pulse that nudged against her walls, straining the tight grip she had on you. She barely registered it before your hands tightened on her hips, lifting her ass higher mid-thrust. The motion shoved her forward, a sharp jolt rocking through her core as you pumped harder, still buried deep. Her arms buckled under the force, knees skidding across the sheets, and she scrambled to catch herself—landing on all fours, ass propped high, her body trembling from the hot, aching stretch where you stayed lodged inside her.

“What are you—?!” she yelped, voice splintering, but before she could twist or protest, your weight shifted forward. You followed her down, pressing against her back—a solid, unrelenting heat pinning her in place as you kept thrusting, relentless, your rhythm unbroken, each slam sinking deeper into her slick, pulsing core.

uqi’s hand flailed back, fingers scrabbling for purchase against your relentless, rabid thrusts—each one slamming into her with a force that made her core throb and ache, a wild rhythm she couldn’t match. Tears streaked her cheeks, her cries spilling out sharp and broken as the pleasure drowned her, too much, too fast. Her grip faltered, and the bed seemed to tilt—your weight unsteady above her. In a clumsy tangle, you both toppled sideways, crashing onto the sheets. But the fall didn’t slow you—your hips kept pumping, unbothered, and now she was trapped. Your arms snaked around her, pinning her own against her chest, locking her tight in your embrace. She moaned helplessly, voice raw and trembling, as you ravaged her hole—each thrust a deep, merciless plunge that wrecked her from the inside out.

Then it hit—a sudden, electric shock blasted through Yuqi, sharp and blinding. Your cock struck her G-spot, a precise, brutal nudge that made her walls clamp down hard, a scream tearing from her throat as her body bucked wildly against you. You caught it—your rhythm shifted fast, seizing the moment. One hand hooked under her thigh, hoisting her leg up, twisting her into a scissoring sprawl. The angle split her open, and you drove deeper—impossibly deeper—your length grinding that spot with every thrust, a hot, pulsing pressure that sent shudders racing up her spine. Her slick heat drenched you, her core spasming out of control, and she couldn’t stop it—the moans, the tremors, the way her body gave in completely to the chaos you unleashed inside her.

Both of you gasped for air, a brief break settling in as your bodies stilled. The position shifted naturally—Yuqi’s eyes stayed clamped shut, too heavy to lift under the intensity, even now in the quiet. She couldn’t see, but she felt your shadow loom over her, your presence hovering close, a dark heat she sensed through her haze.

“Yuqi, get up,” you said, voice rough. She obeyed, dragging herself upright, though her lids barely cracked open—exhaustion weighing them down. You pulled her onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours, facing you. Your thrusts resumed, slower now, and she felt your mouth on her breast—lips sucking, tongue flicking her nipple, a wet, warm pull that sparked faint jolts through her chest. Her arms trembled as she propped herself against you.

Slowly, you reclined back, and Yuqi’s hands slid to the headboard, gripping it for balance. She didn’t know when it happened—her mind too foggy to track—but she realized she was moving, humping you on her own, hips rolling instinctively against your steady length. Her pace faltered, exhaustion creeping in, slowing her down. Then you took over—your hands gripped her hips, and you pumped up into her again, reigniting the fire in her core with each thrust.

Her hand shot to your hair, fingers twisting tight, yanking your face close. Her tongue lolled out, desperate, and you met it—your tongue tangling with hers, a sloppy, wet dance that tasted of sweat and need. “Hug me,” she rasped, tongue still out, voice thick. “Hug me,” she begged again, more frantic, a plea trembling on her lips.

Yuqi felt you overpower her—your arms wrapped around her, pulling her down until she crashed onto her back. She clung to you, arms looping around your neck, legs locking tight around your waist, holding you deep inside her. Any second now, she knew it—both of you teetering on the edge. Her thighs parted wider, welcoming your thrusts, her body aching for release.

Then it came. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave—her walls seized around you, spasming hard, a gush of heat flooding her core as she shattered. She felt you pull out mid-clench, your cock slipping free, and a split second later, the hot, thick splatter of your cum streaked across her skin—her belly, her thighs—branding her as her own climax pulsed through. Her moans choked off, her vision blurred, and her consciousness slipped away, fading to black as the last shudder rocked her limp frame.

~~~

Yuqi woke up to warmth—soft fabric against her skin, the dull ache in her limbs, and the distant hum of the world outside.

Her brows furrowed, still caught in the haze of sleep, but something felt… off. The scent in the air wasn’t quite hers. The bed didn’t feel quite right.

Then, as she shifted, the sensation of bare skin against unfamiliar sheets jolted her fully awake.

Her eyes snapped open. Sunlight streamed through her curtains, too bright, too loud, as her pulse pounded in her ears. Her room. She was in her room. But—

The sheets. They weren’t hers.

Panic flared in her chest as fragments of last night started to piece themselves together.

Her breath hitched.

Oh. Oh, shit.

She sat up too fast, wincing as soreness bloomed through her body. That was another thing—the ache in her muscles, the evidence of everything she’d done, everything she’d let happen.

And then, finally, she noticed—

The oversized shirt slipping past her shoulder, familiar but not hers.

Your shirt. Her grip on the fabric tightened.

This wasn’t happening.

But the soreness in her body told her it was. The unfamiliar sheets told her it was. Your shirt draped over her skin—your scent clinging to it—told her it was.

Yuqi’s breath came uneven as the full weight of what she’d done crashed over her.

She’d slept with you.

You.

Her friend. Her longtime friend.

A sharp pang of regret twisted in her chest, not because she hadn’t wanted it—God, that was the worst part—she had wanted it. She had kissed you back, had let you undress her, had clung to you like you were the only thing keeping her grounded.

But she hadn’t expected it. Not like this. Not when she wasn’t ready to risk everything.

Not when it could ruin you.

She raked her hands through her hair, cursing under her breath. How the hell did she let it get this far? How the hell did she let herself fall?

The silence of the room felt suffocating. And you—where were you? Were you regretting it too? Were you somewhere in the apartment, figuring out how to tell her this was a mistake?

Her stomach churned at the thought.

The smell of food drifted into the room, warm and familiar.

Yuqi swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the bedsheet.

You’re cooking.

That meant you were still here. That meant you hadn’t run off in regret, hadn’t left her alone in this mess she didn’t know how to clean up.

Maybe… maybe it’s not too late.

If she just acted normal—if she pretended last night was a mistake, a stupid, drunken slip-up—maybe things wouldn’t have to change.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to lose you.

Yuqi exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples. Her thoughts spiraled, one after the other, faster than she could catch them.

What if you wanted to forget too? What if you were in the kitchen right now, thinking of ways to brush it off, to laugh about it, to shove it in the back of your minds where it could rot, untouched?

Could you both really pretend it didn’t happen? Could she?

She forced herself out of bed, her legs weak beneath her, the oversized fabric of your shirt hanging off her frame. She had to face you. She had to fix this before it shattered into something she couldn’t repair.

With careful steps, she made her way to the kitchen.

And there you were. Standing by the stove, spatula in hand, acting like this was just any other morning.

Her chest clenched.

Maybe it could be. Maybe if she played it right, you could go back.

She took a deep breath, steadied herself, then tried.

“So,” she started, keeping her voice light. Too light. “What’s for breakfast, chef?”

You turned slightly, meeting her gaze. And for a second—just a second—something flickered in your expression.

Something unreadable.

But then you smirked. “Figured you’d need something to get your strength back after last night.”

Her stomach dropped.

She forced a laugh. “Oh, shut up.”

You plated the food, setting it on the counter. “Not hungry?”

Yuqi hesitated. Her fingers curled around the hem of your shirt—her only layer of protection against the vulnerability clawing up her throat.

This was slipping. She could feel it.

“Look,” she said, trying to sound casual, like she wasn’t barely holding herself together. “Last night was… you know. We were drunk, and it just… happened.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you grabbed a glass of water, taking a slow sip before setting it down.

Then, you leveled her with a look.

“And?”

Yuqi blinked. “And?”

You leaned against the counter, arms crossing over your chest. “Are you trying to say it was a mistake?”

Her mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Because that’s not what she meant—not really.

But if she didn’t say it, if she didn’t put that distance back, she didn’t know what would happen.

She didn’t know if she could handle what would happen.

“I just think,” she tried again, voice weaker this time, “that we should just… go back. Like before. We don’t have to—”

“Yuqi. You know that's bullshit.”

She froze.

"That was four cans between us. You can drink five alone and still balance on a pole—don't act like that was the reason.”

The way you said her name—steady, firm, like you’d already made up your mind—it made her stomach twist.

“Before isn’t an option,” you said simply.

Four cans.

That’s all it was. Just four stupid cans.

And yet, here you were, looking at her like you were about to ruin everything.

The air in the room shifted—her room, but suddenly it didn’t feel like hers anymore. The sheets smelled like you, the oversized shirt hanging off her shoulders wasn’t hers either. Nothing felt like hers anymore, not even her own body, sore in places she had no right to acknowledge.

Her stomach twisted, panic crawling up her throat. No. No, no, no—

Her gaze dropped to the floor, unable—unwilling—to look at you. If she saw your face, if she saw the regret, the indifference, or worse, the pity—it would break her.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she blurted, voice thin, barely holding together. Maybe if she said it first, if she got ahead of it, she could stop whatever came next.

But then—

“Yuqi, being friends with you has been fun, but—”

But.

That one word shattered everything.

No. Not like this. Not you.

“But what?” Her voice cracked, too raw, too exposed. “Is that it? Over just like that?”

You didn’t say anything, and it made her chest tighten, like her ribs were caving in.

“Did you hate it that much?” she forced out, her hands fisting in the fabric of the sheets.

“No, Yuqi, not like that. Let me talk—”

“To what? To hear your excuse?” Her voice rose, frantic now. “How can you talk so calmly? Is that how it is? I’m the only one who actually valued this friendship? I make one mistake, and you’re already ready to leave?”

“Yuqi. Look at me.”

There was a weight in the way you said her name—stern, unyielding—but she didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t.

Her breath hitched. Her hands trembled as she dug them into the mattress, nails pressing into the fabric, grounding herself.

“Why can’t you just stay?” Her voice was barely above a whisper now, desperate, fraying at the edges. “I’m sorry, okay? This—this was a one-time thing. That’s it. So you don’t have to leave. It doesn’t mean anything.”

It was a lie. A pathetic, miserable lie.

But if saying it kept you from walking away, then she’d let it shatter her.

Except—

Before she could breathe, before she could take it back—

Your lips crashed into hers.

You knew what she was thinking. You knew how much she was spiraling, how the weight of her own fears was crushing her. And maybe—probably—it was best to just tell her, to stop her panic before it got any worse.

But watching her like this, hopelessly caught in her own misunderstanding, her pride stripped away, her vulnerability laid bare… you couldn’t help but find her cute.

So you kissed her.

When you pulled away, her breath was shaky, her wide eyes darting between yours.

“Will you listen to me now?”

She nodded—barely, hesitantly—before her gaze dropped back to the floor.

You sighed. “Yuqi, we’ve been friends for a while—”

Her head shot up so fast you almost laughed. Her eyes were glassy, lips parted as if she was about to say something—

But before she could, you kissed her again, swallowing whatever words she had.

“We’ve been friends for a while,” you repeated against her lips, softer this time. “And I thought we were always going to stay that way. But this past year…”

She was shaking now, small, uneven trembles as her tears finally spilled over. She pouted, biting her lip, trying so hard to keep it together. You placed a hand on her head, fingers threading through her hair, petting her gently.

That was the trigger.

The dam broke.

Her shoulders shook as she let out a muffled, choked sob, burying her face into your chest.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “But this past year, Yuqi…” You wiped her tears away with your thumbs, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at you. “I realized how dumb I was to keep thinking of you as just a friend. An amazing woman like you—you’re funny, you’re smart, you work hard, you’re pre—beautiful, and above all, you’re confident in everything you do…”

Then, with a smirk, you added, “And it’s absolutely hilarious when you’re wrong.”

She punched you—hard enough to send the message, but too weak to actually hurt.

“What I’m trying to say is, I like you. And just like you, I was scared of losing you too, Yuqi.”

She sniffled, hastily wiping at her face, the reality of your words finally sinking in.

“…That’s why, um—”

“What?!”

“I’m asking—can we be together?”

Her breath hitched.

And then, with no warning, the tears came rushing back as she smacked your chest. “Of course we can, you idiot! Why didn’t you say that first?!”

You had no excuse, only laughter. You pulled her into your arms, and she clung to you just as tightly.

“Yuqi…” you whispered, lips brushing against her ear.

You kissed her cheek. Then her forehead. Then her lips. Slowly, tenderly, you moved downward, pressing soft kisses along her jaw, her neck—

And then, a loud growl rumbled through the silence.

Yuqi stiffened.

You froze.

And then—

You let out a loud snort.

Yuqi turned bright red. “Don’t—don’t laugh! I hate you.”

You grinned, pulling away just enough to meet her eyes. “I like you.”

She huffed, still flustered.

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Do you at least like my cooking?”

Her voice was small, barely above a mumble.

“…I—I like it.”

You smirked, reaching for her hand, your fingers brushing her sweat-damp skin. “Then come on, let’s eat before you actually pass out on me.”

But just as you turned toward the kitchen, a sharp tug yanked you back.

Her grip was firm on your wrist.

“What is it?” you asked, pivoting to face her.

Yuqi hadn’t moved, her body squirming slightly, thighs pressing together. Her hands fisted over the oversized shirt—your shirt—clutching the fabric low over her stomach like she could hide her itch you could scratch away. Her chest heaved, tits straining against the fabric, nipples poking through—already hard from the kiss earlier. Her face was red, not from embarrassment of her stomach, but from the heat that you just have built up.

She was still breathless, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her skin flushed in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion.

And her eyes—dark, hungry, locked onto you like she was barely holding herself back.

Your grin deepened.

You leaned in, close enough that she could feel the heat of your breath against her lips, but not close enough to give her what she wanted.

“Let’s eat first,” you murmured, your voice low, teasing.

Then, smirking, you added, “After, you can beg me to fuck you again.”

She shook, a quick, horny tremble.

And just like that, you pulled away, already heading toward the kitchen.

You didn’t have to look back to know she was still standing there, fuming, frustrated, and—most of all—waiting.

a/n: thanks for reading, also thoughts on the switching pov while maintaining 2nd pov ("you" pronoun)? Or is using 3rd person pov when in idols pov better?

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #32

It all began when Dr. Jasmine Fenton—Jazz, to the brave and traumatized—walked into the Avengers Compound in five-inch block heels, a blood-red blazer, and a clipboard with everyone’s most damning psychological profiles printed in 12-point Times New Roman. She had been hired because, quote, “the last six therapists either quit, cried, or developed their own hero complexes.” SHIELD had gone through the best and brightest the world had to offer. They even tried a Wakandan empathy AI once. It cried. The AI cried.

So when Jazz Fenton walked in, armed with a dual PhD in clinical psychology and trauma therapy, the last thing they expected was that she’d personally know what hero trauma looked like. But she did. Her baby brother was a half-ghost interdimensional guardian who once got hit by a nuke and walked it off. Her parents were mad scientists who tried to dissect him. And her godfather was an immortal corporate vampire with a crown kink and a habit of kidnapping. She had seen things. She understood. And more importantly, she didn’t care. She wasn’t here to coddle them.

“Dr. Fenton,” Steve Rogers greeted politely that first morning.

“Please, call me Jazz,” she said with a smile that made even Natasha lower her coffee. “Or Doctor Fenton if you’re about to lie to me.”

Tony Stark made the mistake of raising an eyebrow. “Oh? What are you gonna do, psychoanalyze me into submission?”

She flipped to his file. “‘Severe abandonment issues, destructive self-worth tendencies, martyr complex buried under layers of narcissistic deflection, sleeps three hours a night, probably cries in the shower—’”

“I don’t cry in the shower!”

“That is because you don’t shower, Mr. Stark.”

That shut him up.

From that day onward, fear fell over the Avengers Compound like a thick, fragrant fog of anxiety. Jazz was everywhere. One moment she was on the roof with Clint discussing his grief over Budapest, the next she was in the lab with Bruce making him cry, and the moment after that she had Loki in handcuffs—not because he was arrested, but because he asked for them.

“I just think maybe I’m too attached to the idea of being hated,” Loki muttered, slouched on the therapy couch.

“You are,” Jazz replied, checking her notes. “You’re addicted to conflict because you’ve built your identity on being an outsider. Every time you’re offered genuine affection, you self-sabotage. You’re not a villain, you’re just a lonely youngest child.”

“I—” Loki blinked. “That is horrifically accurate. And incredibly offensive.”

“Cry harder, Sparklehorn.”

Thor, meanwhile, loved her. Adored her. Followed her around like an emotional support golden retriever with lightning powers. He kept trying to give her things—golden goblets, fur cloaks, an entire goat—until one day she casually picked up Mjolnir while fixing a crooked painting and everyone screamed.

“How the fuck—” Sam Wilson shouted.

“Why can she do that?” Peter Parker asked from the ceiling.

“Therapists shouldn’t be worthy!” Tony wailed. “It’s not natural!”

Jazz shrugged and handed the hammer back to Thor. “I was forged in the fires of Midwestern neglect and ghost radiation. You think Odin can break me? Try surviving your brother getting publicly disemboweled by a government robot while your parents take notes.”

She had no chill. None. She was the only person who called Wanda out on her grief projection, made Bucky talk about his repressed ballet skills, and forced Steve to draw a family tree so she could scream “YOUR ENTIRE FRIEND GROUP IS CODEPENDENT.”

“Group therapy!” she declared one Tuesday.

“No,” said literally everyone.

“Too bad. Show up or I will personally guilt you in front of the media using your own trauma receipts.”

And they did. They came. They came because they were afraid.

Tony sat with arms crossed. “This is stupid.”

“Tell that to your inner child.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Exactly.”

Clint sighed. “This is worse than Budapest.”

“Everything is worse than Budapest,” Natasha replied.

Wanda blinked slowly. “I think I just astrally projected my own anxiety. It’s hovering above me like a raincloud.”

Jazz didn’t even blink. “Let it hover. Let it watch you cry. Maybe it’ll finally grow up.”

Civil War? Canceled.

No one dared fight each other under Jazz’s watch. When tensions began rising between Tony and Steve over the Sokovia Accords, she locked them in a soundproof room with juice boxes and didn’t let them out until they hugged it out like the emotionally repressed golden retrievers they were.

“I will tranquilize you both,” she warned through the door. “I have the darts and the upper body strength. Don’t tempt me.”

They made up within the hour.

At one point, Nick Fury tried to get involved. He barged into one of Jazz’s sessions like he still ran SHIELD.

“What the hell kind of therapy involves throwing knives at a target while crying?” he demanded.

Jazz, unfazed, handed him a stress knife. “Want to try?”

He did. And then immediately rebooked weekly appointments.

By week four, the compound was transformed. Hulk was journaling. Peter was actually doing his homework. Wanda was learning healthy coping mechanisms that didn’t involve mind-controlling entire suburbs. Clint and Natasha were having pillow talks about emotional vulnerability. Even Loki was crocheting.

“Do you know what I’ve done?” he whispered as he stitched a duck.

“I’ve read your file,” Jazz said. “And your Tumblr tag. You’re not special.”

“I am special—”

“You’re traumatized, sweetie.”

Meanwhile, Tony—still deeply suspicious—began following her around trying to find proof she was a Hydra sleeper agent. What he found instead was her absolutely unhinged family.

“You’re related to who?” he asked over coffee one morning.

Jazz sighed. “My little brother is Danny Phantom, ghost-powered superhero and part-time physics major. My godfather is Vlad Masters, ex-billionaire and full-time supervillain with a complex. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton.”

Tony blinked. “The guys who duct-taped a rocket to a lawnmower and called it science?”

“The very same.”

“No wonder you’re like this.”

Jazz nodded. “Exactly. I was forged in chaos and trauma. Now I’m here to fix you.”

“I don’t want to be fixed.”

“Too bad. I’ve already started rebuilding your psyche.”

“What does that mean—”

“Check your inner monologue. Notice how it’s stopped calling you a worthless meat puppet?”

Tony screamed.

Even Doctor Strange, who allegedly had the answers to the universe, found himself in a corner drinking tea and rethinking the way he suppressed his emotions with sarcasm and facial hair.

“You’re not mystical, Stephen,” Jazz told him. “You’re just emotionally constipated.”

“I literally astral project.”

“Cool. Now try emotional projection. Maybe apologize to Wong.”

“…Wong is asleep.”

“Wake him up.”

By month two, even the press noticed. The Avengers were glowing. Smiling. Making eye contact during press conferences instead of brooding like middle school theater kids.

“What changed?” a reporter asked.

Tony grabbed the mic. “Her name is Jazz Fenton and she scares the hell out of us.”

Steve nodded solemnly. “She made me cry six times in one session. I told her about my dad.”

“She made me draw my feelings,” Clint added.

“I finally cried about Pietro,” Wanda whispered. “In public. It felt amazing. I think I vomited emotions.”

“Dr. Fenton helped me write a song about my grief,” Thor said proudly. “It’s a power ballad. With goats.”

And then came the incident.

The one time the Avengers tried to disobey her. Sam and Bucky had been arguing again. Loudly. And somewhere in the chaos, someone dared say, “It’s not like Jazz can stop us.”

Wrong.

So, so wrong.

Jazz calmly walked into the sparring room, confiscated Bucky’s knife mid-twirl, took Sam’s wings with one hand, and sat both men down with the force of divine intervention.

“You two,” she said in a voice that made the walls tremble, “are not enemies. You are trauma-bonded enemies-to-friends-to-exes-to-besties. You are a trope. You are a fanfiction tag. You are not about to regress into kindergarten slap fights because one of you forgot the others’ favorite breakfast order.”

“…He forgot my birthday,” Sam muttered.

“Because he has memory trauma! You have it too! You both need to go on a spa day and cry it out in a hot tub like normal people.”

And they did.

They actually did.

The day Jazz left for a conference—just one day—the entire compound fell into shambles. Loki started monologuing again, Peter accidentally built a sentient AI who wrote poetry about death, Wanda started glowing red again, and Tony tried to weaponize emotional damage via sarcastic limericks.

The moment she came back, they all lined up like chastised children.

“What did I say about emotionally projecting without supervision?” she asked.

“Don’t do it,” they chorused.

“And?”

Peter sniffled. “We missed you.”

“Damn right you did.”

Jazz smiled, terrifying and fond, and flipped her clipboard. “Now. Who wants to talk about their mother?”

And the Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, sat down.

Because nothing—not Chitauri, not Ultron, not even Thanos—was scarier than the therapist who could lift Mjolnir and your deepest childhood wound in the same breath.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton was the real hero. And everyone knew it.

[rauspberries]

The Dinner | A.H

lawyer!aaron hotchner x paralegal!reader.

summary: at a party you don't fit into, you run into the one person you don't want to see. luckily, your hot boss is totally okay to play along, and take care of you afterwards. tags/warnings: afab reader, no use of y/n or description of reader [other than wearing a dress], more hidden flirting and tension, protective & dreamy aaron hotchner, slight age gap, mentions of a narcissistic ex-boyfriend and gross men, mentions of alcohol and drinking, word count: 4.2k notes: I LOVE IT HERE i actually had so much fun writing this

You don’t know why you agreed to come to this stupid thing.

Usually, you thrived at parties. You wore something that made you desirable, you floated through a room instead of walking, you held a dazzling smile and you attracted the eyes of everyone you wanted to. You enjoyed parties so much that you tended to be the host of them, or at least the person that people went to when they needed something.

But parties like this, filled with lawyers and district attorneys and firm owners, were exhausting. Lawyers, usually men, were arrogant, to the point that it was suffocating. They believed they dominated the world the same way they owned the courtroom, that they were the most convincing batch of people in the world just because they could win a case or two. Being a woman in a room full of drunk male lawyers was not your definition of a fun Friday night.

Glancing around the room, your eyes catch on the reason you were here just as you bring your vodka soda to your lips. The prosecutor you had come to enjoy the presence of was talking with one of the district attorneys, no emotions reflected on his face as he spoke, large hands wrapped around a glass. He looked delectable in a perfectly tailored dark suit, the top button of the navy blue button-up undone and no tie in sight. It was the closest you’d get to seeing him dressed down without ambushing him outside of work.

Aaron had come into your office on his way out the day before, repeating the same routine he had suddenly developed, his suit jacket draped over his arm. In the same nonchalant tone he usually kept, he had asked you if you were planning on going to the party. You had heard about it around the firm, but you had assumed it was for associates and partners only. Paralegals didn’t often get invited to parties, being the small fish in the pond of lawyers. Plus, you didn’t like conversing with lawyers longer than you needed to – unless they were Aaron, of course. 

And because you couldn’t help yourself, because you couldn’t say no to him, you smiled at him and told him you’d go. Then, you had kicked yourself mentally as soon as he had left, knowing everything you’d have to do to prepare yourself. A new outfit, a good mental peptalk to hype yourself up, and a shot before you enter the door for good luck.

You’re interrupted from shamelessly ogling your boss by a familiar booming laugh, your gaze immediately darting over to a group of men. They’re all fondling a glass of some sort of dark liquor, ranging from whiskey to scotch to bourbon. Your heart rate picks up as you glance at each of the faces, body stiffening at the sight of a familiar one.

Back when you were newly a paralegal, before you had been introduced to the rules behind the politics of being beneath lawyers in the corporate food chain, you had made a stupid mistake – you had dated one. 

Michael had been a good man, buying you gifts and taking you out on lavish dates you’d never be able to afford on your own, until you had had a chance to look back on him. Slowly, you had become more of a trophy to him rather than a loving girlfriend. He had carted you around to parties just like this, hand curled around your waist like he was afraid you’d drift away, slipping in comments about how you were just a paralegal, how you were fighting to become a lawyer, like you hadn’t been working your damn hardest to balance a new job, its workload and all of your classes as well.

Your break-up hadn’t been amicable, or even neutral. It had been a two-hour long argument, screaming until your throat hurt, each scalding insult out of his mouth piercing directly into your ego. After him, you had put your foot down about dating lawyers, especially young ones with a lot to prove. Since your break-up slash fight, you had managed to avoid him pretty well – until now. 

Immediately, you’re spinning around to aim your back towards him, only to come face-first with Aaron’s chest. Despite the heels you had purchased just for this event, he still towers over you, your chin having to tilt up to catch his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asks, the low baritone washing over you like a wave. Despite the gentleness of the question, his face doesn’t change, oddly calm. You notice that his gaze is still sharp and focused, not as dazed as some of the other prosecutors surrounding the two of you. Glancing down, you also note that the single ice cube in his scotch had melted, and the drink was only halfway downed. He hadn’t been drinking, just socializing. That was good.

Shaking your head, you hold your drink closer to your chest. ‘Uhm, yeah. Fine.” You clear your throat before bringing your glass back up to your lips, downing what’s left of it before placing the empty glass on the table behind you. “Just don’t have much in common with people here.”

“You’re working to become a lawyer and you don’t have anything in common with other lawyers?” He questions, tone amused. You don’t miss the small tilt at the corner of his lips, or the crease at the corner of his eyes, the small little things that made up his amusement.

Huffing, you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not men. All the men here probably see me as a glorified assistant. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them call me sugar and ask me to get them another drink.” You can’t help the slight scorn that seeps into your tone, leaning back against the table behind you and letting your eyes land on Michael again.

Aaron notices the change in your body language, his eyes following yours to look for what’s distracting you. “Who’s he?” His head tilts towards the group of lawyers before he’s glancing back at you, sipping at the scotch in his hand.

“What?” You question, too fast for your own liking, pulling your lips into your mouth in an attempt to keep you from rambling nervously. At the slightest quirk of his brow, you’re crumbling, deciding that he’d pick apart your lie more and more the more you tried to keep it up. “My ex-boyfriend. Dated him back when I was too stupid to know better.”

He lets out a huff of a laugh, sidling up beside you and letting his arm brush against yours. “Didn’t end well, I assume?” 

One glance up at him, you try to fight the smile that threatens to cross your lips. Rather than trying to avoid confrontation, he’s doing the exact opposite of what you’d do, his dark eyes zeroing in on the young lawyer that was still somehow oblivious to the death glare currently directed towards him. With Aaron standing beside you, you feel more confident, like he’d protect you if anything happened.

Before you have the chance to respond to the prosecutor’s question, Michael’s eyes finally catch yours. You note the furrow in his brow before his eyes light up, dread pooling in your stomach as you watch him excuse himself from his current conversation, immediately making his way towards you. If you weren’t too focused on shooting daggers at him, you’d have noticed the way Aaron slowly moved closer to you, until his entire arm was pressed up against yours while his free hand set his drink down.

Michael calls your name as he gets closer, like he’s unaware of the fact that your entire attention has been focused on him for the past couple of minutes. He has the flushed look to his cheeks that tell you he’s already drunk, his hair mussed on top of his head from running his hands through it. He looks happy to see you, which couldn’t be anything but a problem.

“What are you doing here? Become a lawyer yet?” It’s meant to be demeaning, although it's masked by amusement as his hand comes up to brush against your shoulder. You tense up at the touch, causing him to immediately pull his hand back. He recovers quickly when you don’t respond, his attention turning to Aaron. “Hi. I’m Michael, but many people around here call me Mike. Nice to meet you.”

Aaron glances down at his hand, however he doesn’t make any move to shake his hand. Instead, you’re surprised by the feeling of his fingertips skirting along the small of your back, moving until his hand completely curls around your hip. The touch is light at first, testing to see how you reacted, before it finally settles like a dead weight. “Aaron Hotchner. I’m a prosecutor.” He introduces himself, still eerily calm, even if you’re sure he can hear your racing heartbeat from where he stands.

From how close you are, from how close he’s slightly pulled you from his hold on your hip, you can smell his cologne. It’s manly, spicy, like bergamot. Usually, colognes were overwhelming, suffocating. Here, in his warm touch, it’s comforting. 

Michael’s eyes flicker down to the hand on your hip before back up to his face. He’s completely ignoring you, instead attempting to suck up to the man beside you for his political benefit, even if Aaron is obviously dismissing him. You want to laugh in his face, but you decide that taking the high ground is better.

“Oh, yeah. You worked on the Williamson case recently, right? It was all over the papers, your win. Man, I’d love to hear more about it.” He’s practically slobbering as he looks up at the prosecutor, eyes wide as saucers. It makes you nauseated to think that you were every romantically interested in the man.

Aaron must’ve noticed the way your eyes glazed over in boredom, fingertips pressing into your hip bone as he gives you a soft squeeze. “You said it yourself, it was all over the papers. Feel free to read up and send an email to my paralegal if you want any information.” He glances down at you for a moment before back up at the man in front of you. “Actually, please don’t contact my paralegal, or me.”

And then, with a soft ‘excuse me,’ he tightens his hold on your hip, urging you away from Michael. Unable to resist the urge, your lips pull up into a flattering smile as you glance at your ex-boyfriend for one last time, tongue dragging over your top teeth before you step away with the prosecutor. 

Once you’re out of earshot, you murmur softly. “What was that?” You muse, glancing up at him.

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” He responds nonchalantly, finally letting his hand fall and bringing it back to his side once you sidle up to the open bar. Tapping the counter, he orders you another drink, handing it over to you without a word about it. 

For a moment, you wonder if he’s flirting with you. You let the thought consume you for just a moment as you pull the drink closer, enjoying the cooling sensation of the condensation against your skin as you take a long drink, before you push it away. Aaron is distinguished, mature. He wouldn’t go for the young paralegal with nothing but silly little relationships under their belt.

After you’ve nursed the drink for a while, feeling small underneath the focused gaze of him, he stands up straight, hand finding your back again. It’s a habit of his now, you assume, to lead you around with a gentle touch. However, unlike how it had been with Michael, you didn’t feel like a trophy to him. It was a hold meant to steer you, not a hold meant to control you. You know that if you pushed him away, he’d back off without a second thought. “Come on. We’re gonna introduce you to some of the good lawyers. As a smart paralegal, not as the woman I happened to have my hand on.”

And so he did. For the next couple of hours, Aaron leads you around, introducing you as his favorite paralegal. The compliments that spew from him towards the people around you keeps your cheeks warm all night, constantly keeping your drink full to try and let yourself loosen up beneath his praise. Unfortunately, your attempt at calming yourself only gets you as drunk as the men around you, although you’re easily more controlled than they are.

By the time everyone starts leaving, you need a cab. Aaron lets you hold onto his bicep with a tight grip as he leads you outside, still the face of utmost patience and calm as he helps you down the steps in front of the building. You lean into him as the cool air brushes across your heated skin, taking a deep inhale.

“You’ve been so nice to me, all night.” You babble, letting yourself fully lean into him and enjoy the warmth of his body through his suit jacket. Almost like he senses it, he leans away from you just enough to pull it off, draping it over your shoulders before wrapping his arm around you again. “See? Like that. You’re just so nice.”

His chest rumbles against your shoulder as he leads you down the sidewalk, eyes flickering to your face before your surroundings. “I’m doing the bare minimum. If you believe this is the nicest thing someone can do for you, I’m worried.” He’s amused, you can tell by the lilt of his voice.

With a huff, you push at his chest, although his hold on you makes it so he doesn’t move far. “You know what I mean, Hotchner. You keep doing nice things for me. Like that thing with Michael. And introducing me to all of those lawyers. That could help my career, you know.” Suddenly, you gasp, stopping your feet so fast that he has to hold you up from falling on your face. “Are you trying to make me leave the firm?”

“I’m sorry?” He moves to stand in front of you, hands sliding down to grab your hips to steady you on your heels, which make you realize just how much your feet and ankles ache. 

Placing a hand on his chest, you push into him to keep yourself steady as you raise your foot, fingers digging into the heel of your shoe to pull it off. “You kept introducing me to a bunch of other prosecutors and lawyers and singing my praises. It sounds like you’re trying to pawn me off to some other attorney.” Your voice slowly trails off into a grumble as you peel off your shoe, immediately moving over to your other one.

Aaron lets out a soft sigh as he watches you remove your shoes, nose wrinkling slightly as your bare feet touch the sidewalk. Before you can speak again, he’s sliding your bag off of your shoulder, hoisting it up on his own. In one swift move, he’s crouching down, one arm sweeping beneath your legs and the other bracing your back as he lifts you up. A soft squeak leaves your lips as you’re suddenly lifted off the ground, one hand holding at the back of his neck for some type of stability. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m not letting you put your bare feet on the sidewalk. In this weather, you’ll catch a cold.” He responds easily, hands warm against the exposed skin of your lower thigh as he continues your walk. “Is it alright if I drive you home?”

Sighing, you pull your hand back towards your chest and lean your cheek against his shoulder, eyes fluttering as you fight the tiredness. “If it gets me to my bed faster, sure.” Suddenly, your eyelids pop open again, glancing up at his face. “You never answered my question. Are you trying to pawn me off to the highest bidder?”

Aaron’s quiet as he makes his way to his car, only speaking once he gets to the passenger side door. “Reach into the left pocket of my suit jacket and unlock the car, please.” He instructs, looking down at you.

“Answer my question.” You retort stubbornly, lips pulling down in a tight frown, bottom lip pushing out in a pout.

Rolling his eyes, he’s suddenly moving you in his arms, placing you down to sit on the hood of his car. One hand stays on your hip to keep you perched there while the other digs into the pocket of the jacket covering your shoulders, pulling out the keys himself as he stares directly into your eye. He unlocks the car as your pout deepens, opening the passenger side door before picking you up again.

He places you on the seat gently, laying your shoes and your bag at your feet so you didn’t lose them. Slender fingers grab your seatbelt before he’s leaning over you, cologne wafting over you again as he clicks the seatbelt into place. Rather than immediately pull back, he turns his head to look at you, face so close to yours that you can smell the remnants of his one scotch on his breath. 

“I am not trying to get you to go to a law firm, or another district attorney’s office. I would like to keep you around for as long as possible, if I can.” His hand reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face, fingertips brushing against your cheekbone and short-circuiting your drunk brain long enough for him to be able to pull his upper body out of the car.

The passenger side door shuts before you can say anything, leaving you in silence as you try to wrap your head around just exactly what’s happening. Unfortunately, you come up with nothing, especially since your last drink is just now settling in and everything is growing fuzzier by the moment.

As soon as Aaron’s in the car, he starts the engine, turning on the heat and reaching over to adjust your vents. “Let me know if you need me to roll down the window.” He murmurs, taking one last once-over of your face to make sure you were okay before turning his gaze back to his mirrors and windows.

You want to take this time to talk to him, to ask questions and enjoy the presence of him outside the office. Despite your drunkenness, you are still rational, but he doesn’t have to know that. You could say whatever you wanted, blame it on the drinks if it backfired. Unfortunately, you’re too tired to come up with anything to say, leaning your head against the car door and letting yourself drift off to sleep.

You’re awoken what feels like ages later by a warm nudge on your knee, eyelids peeling open to see Aaron’s large hand on it. Licking your lips to try and solve your drymouth, you turn your head to look at him, softening under his gentle eyes. “Hi. Are we at my home?”

He chuckles softly, thumb brushing against the side of your kneecap before he sits up, removing his hand and leaving you cold. “You fell asleep before I could ask your address, so I brought you back to my apartment. Is that okay?”

Sitting up, you run your fingers through your hair, praying that your make-up hasn’t smeared too much and you don’t look as dishelved as you feel. “As long as there’s somewhere for me to sleep and a glass of water.”

“Lucky for you, I have both.” With a flash of a smile your way, he turns off the car, immediately opening his door. In a moment, he’s at your door, opening it. Your head finds his shoulder again as he picks you up, abandoning your shoes in the floorboards as he shuts the passenger door. 

He has you inside his apartment before you can even register that you’ve moved, setting you back down on your feet and tugging down the hem of your dress to keep you covered. While he locks the door and sets down his keys in the tray next to it, you take the moment to look around, the hardwood cold against your feet. “Your apartment is very… boring.”

He snorts in amusement from behind you, gentle hands pushing your hair to the side so that he could pull his suit jacket off of your shoulders. Noticing your shiver once the cool air hits you, he tosses it to the side, running his warm hands over your exposed skin. The front of his thighs nudge you forward as his hands slide down to your hips, urging you towards the couch and directing you to sit down. “Good thing it’s not a hotel, then.”

“Zero stars.” You agree, curling into yourself as you settle down into the crook where the arm of the couch met the back of it. “It's freezing in here.” 

Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, he drapes it over your lap, both covering the expanse of thigh revealed by sitting down and warming you up. “I’ll grab you some clothes that’ll warm you up,” he responds briskly.. “Did you have any other complaints, princess?” He taunts, a smile pulling at his lips as he stands up straight, placing his hands on his hips..

You copy his grin, tilting your head to the side innocently. “The fact that you haven’t called me that before is quite a shame.”

He makes it apparent that he doesn’t take you seriously, his eyes rolling dramatically before he turns around, disappearing into one of the rooms off of the living room. He returns just a moment later, handing you a stack of clothes. “Shirt, sweatpants and some socks. The bathroom is just there.” He points to a shut door.

Nodding, you slowly stand up, making a show of pulling your dress down for yourself before grabbing the clothes out of his hand. You’re steadier on your feet now as you make your way towards the bathroom, giving him a brave and flirty smile as you shut the door behind you.

In the silence of the bathroom, you take the time to make yourself just a bit more presentable. Peeling off the dress you had bought just the day before and probably wouldn’t wear again, you quickly pull on the clothes that Aaron had given you, glancing at yourself in the mirror once they were on. Both items of clothing swallow you whole, the sweatpants hanging extremely low on your hips and the shirt draping down to your mid-thigh. To prevent accidentally flashing your boss, you use your hair tie to tie up the front of the sweatpants, making the waistline just tight enough to keep the sweatpants from falling.

After wetting your fingers and wiping away all of the make-up that had smeared, you finally step out of the bathroom, taking in the sight of Aaron. He’s changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, just like you, although they obviously fit him a lot better. The shirt stretches across his shoulder blades as he drapes a blanket over the couch, the sight sending not-so-PG thoughts to your brain.

He turns around at the feeling of your eyes on him, that same amused look he had been sporting all night painting across his face as he notices the look in your eyes. Slowly, his eyes skirt along your entire appearance, softening ever-so-slightly at the corners at just how baggy everything looks. “Are you warmer?”

“Very much so.” You respond, lips parting in a large yawn. “Is this my abode for the night?” Your hand points at the small set-up he’s created on the couch, a couple of throw blankets and a decorative pillow.

Almost immediately, he shakes his head. “No, it’s mine.” Noticing your look, he quirks a brow. “You’re going to comment on how nice I am and then be surprised that I’m letting you take my bed for the night?”

Huffing, you move past him quickly, laying down on the couch before he could stop you. “Not happening, Hotchner. There is such a thing as too nice, and it’s what you’ve been tonight.” Pulling your legs closer to your chest, you lift up the blankets, sliding yourself beneath them. 

To your surprise, he leans down to tap your shoulder, adjusting the pillow behind your back once you’ve leaned forward. “Fine. But you can’t say I didn’t try.” After he’s sure you’re comfortable, he turns around, stepping away again. “Let me grab the stuff I left you in my room, then.”

While he’s gone, you settle deeper into the couch. It’s either surprisingly comfortable, or the alcohol in your system has really taken a toll on you. Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re surrounded in the smell of him, both by the clothes on your body and the blankets over your body.

Your eyes are fluttering closed as you hear his footsteps again, noting the clink of a glass on the side table and the soft rattle of pills. You can’t bring yourself to open them again, or open your mouth to thank him, but luckily he doesn’t seem to expect anything from you.

The only thing you’re able to register before you finally fall asleep is the soft brush of fingers on your forehead, pushing away a couple of stray hairs, before the soft click of a bedroom door.

[kunasthiast]

jumpsuits and motors (1)

summary: when one visit to his usual mechanic changed his life for the better… or not? especially when the mechanic he had in mind to check his car wasn’t you – the one who is unbelievably unimpressed by who the fuck he is. and now, you’re on his mind 24/7  – right next to his narcissistic tendencies and thoughts of only him and his precious baby (his car).

pairings: sukuna x reader (female) genre/warnings: sukuna is an arrogant, cocky, bratty asshole, racer AU, mechanic AU, underground street car racing, reader’s a mechanic (currently studying engineering), fluff, future smut, attempt at humor word count: 3.2k All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

taglist is still open for those who wanna be added!

masterlist

part one > part two

The thrill of the chase. The pulse of adrenaline. The deafening roar of the crowd after every victory.  This is what Sukuna lives for. This is what he’d die for.

And this weekend, he’s gonna risk it all.

As an undefeated underground street racer, Sukuna’s days revolve around training, fine-tuning his technique – or whatever else you call it – and making sure his car is in always in peak condition. Every week, without fail, he brings his baby to his shop – the only one he trusts.

This time, though, he’s not just racing anyone.

His opponent? Gojo Satoru. The cocky, loudmouthed idiot who’s been his biggest rival – and his biggest pain in the ass.

For months, Gojo’s been running his mouth about how he’s gonna take the win. Please, when he sees Sukuna, he never fails to mention it. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. And always with that damn smug smirk and a wink, just to piss him off.

“Who’s faster between you two?”

Sukuna’s response? Always the same: “Why even ask when you already know?”

And yet, Gojo never lets it slide.“Nah, I’d win.”

It takes a lot of everything in Sukuna not to punch this stupid idiot square in the jaw. And being the calm, cool, collected one (of course) Sukuna settles for flipping Gojo off instead. Yup, this pink-haired dude is highly confident he’ll win this coming race, maintaining his undefeated history and finally break off his rival’s win history. 

This race? It’s his.

Easy, as always.

With one week to go, his red Audi R8 purrs down the highway, weaving through traffic effortlessly as he heads to his one and only favorite shop – the one place that keeps his car in top condition, no exceptions. He pulls into the garage, kills the engine and steps out – only to find the place empty.

Frowning, he tucks his keys into his pocket and crosses his arms. He knows he booked his baby's checkup. He’s fucking meticulous about this shit.

Just as his irritation bubbles over, a voice calls out from the pantry.

“Uh, we’re closed!”

Sukuna’s brow twitched. The fuck?

“What do you mean it’s closed? I have a scheduled appointment,” he shouts back, which by the way is very obviously annoyed.

Footsteps shuffled and a moment later, you walked into view, casually biting into a cinnamon roll. You’re in a navy-blue jumpsuit, the top half tied around your waist, revealing a black tank top clinging to your frame. And, your trusty 5-year old scuffed-up boots – clearly well-loved – to complete the look.

“Chill out, cutie,” you say between bites. “I definitely sent everyone a message this morning that we’re closed today. Maybe you just forgot to check your phone?” You continued chewing on your cinnamon roll – without missing a beat – even offered this pink-haired hottie your half-eaten cinnamon roll, “Hmm, this one’s good. Want some?”

Sukuna deadpan stared at you. Cutie? Yep, his irritation spikes. So does his curiosity. Because you? You’re fucking hot. 

Ignoring your snack offer – he’s not a fan of sweets – he pulls out his phone. Sure enough, a message from the shop sits unread. This pulls out a groan from him. Shit. He really should’ve checked his phone before driving out here.

“Why are you even closed today?” He mutters, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “I need my car checked today.”

You take another bite, unfazed. “Suit yourself, I’ll just have all the rolls to myself. Dad’s out running errands. I’m the only one here.” 

Sukuna’s barely listening now. He’s watching you. The way you’re leaning against the workbench, the grease stains on your arms, the way your jumpsuit sits low on your hips.

And – fuck.

Pink hair or not, he know he looks intimidating. People usually tread lightly around him. Even the mechanics here. Even his competitors. Even people who walk past by him on the streets. 

But you? You’re standing there, eating a damn cinnamon roll, calling him cutie, and acting like you don’t know exactly who he is.

Not a fan of awkward situations, you continued chewing on your pastry and observing this hottie. He’s wearing a tight black shirt and gray sweatpants which clearly outlined his sexy, muscular physique. He has a cute fluff of pink hair, too, that’s surely something you didn’t expect for someone with an intimidating demeanor and face tattoos. You thought, he’s kinda cute and hot, why have you only seen him today? 

Sukuna knows you’re gawking at him. He notices everyone looking at him. Every time. 

Naturally, his lips curl into a smirk. “What, in love with me already?”

You snort mid-bite. “Please.” 

Unbothered, you finished eating your damn cinnamon roll, then turn on your heel, walking back toward the pantry, clearly ignoring what he just said and replied back with, “You are kinda cute, though.” 

Oh.

Sukuna blinks. That’s… not what he expected.

And, fuck, he likes this attitude of yours. 

He follows you inside, eyes locked on your back. Who even are you, he thought and realized. “Wait a second. You’re Akira’s daughter?! I didn’t even know he had a daughter.”

You glance over your shoulder.  “Uh, yeah? I work here, what else would I be doing here?” You reach into the small fridge with your ass clearly hanging in front of him, rummaging for another drink. “Soda or beer?” 

“Soda. I’m driving,” he says, but he’s not thinking about the drink. He’s openly staring and thinking about the way you’re bent over, ass sticking out, completely unaware of the perverted thoughts running through his head.

He forces himself to look away, leaning against the wall as you toss him a can.

“What kinda work you do here, then?”

“Mechanic.” You went to the other side of the room to sit down at the table and pop open your drink to take a sip.

Sukuna nearly chokes as he’s sipping on his soda. “You’re a mechanic?!” 

Arching an eyebrow, you were offended. “What, that hard to believe?”

He scoffs, eyeing you up and down. “Didn’t expect that. Why don’t you just check my car then?”

“Nope, I’m off duty!” You chuckled and winked. “Just wait for my dad.” You then grabbed your phone on the table and opened it to scroll through your messages, checking if you got any update from your dad on when he’ll be back. Yup, no updates.

You just sent a message to your dad to update him about the mysterious, sexy man’s presence in the garage. Yes, he’s very sexy.

You what time will u be back? pink haired boy’s here to see u says he got weekly car checkups & can’t miss it 9:02AM

“Anyway, who are you? What’s up with the weekly car check up?” You said, looking at him. He was eyeing the room idly and turned his eyes to you while taking another sip of his soda and raised his eyebrows, “You don’t know me?”

“Uh, should I?” You snorted, clearly finding his confident aura interesting. 

“I’m the best street car racer in this city. Undefeated. Sukuna, King of the Tracks. Ring a bell?” Sukuna said as he fixes his stance and threw the soda can on the trash can near the fridge. He’s staring at you with a smoldering smirk.

“… Nope” You blinked. Yeah, you really don’t know him, heck, it’s your first time meeting him! You thought.

“Unbelievable! You work in a shop that caters to race cars, and you haven’t even heard of me? This has been my go-to shop ever since I’ve started like 5 years ago.” He said with a chortle and clearly showing his disbelief on his face, his smoldering smirk faltering into a teasing grin. 

You gave him a light chuckle and shrugged your shoulders while flashing Sukuna a smile, “Sorry to burst your bubble, I haven’t had the time to keep up with local street-racing celebs. ‘Sides, fixing cars is more fun than racing them.”

He snorts at this. “Blasphemy.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. ‘King of the Tracks.’ And, I just started this job a year ago.” You admitted with an emphasis on air quotes.

Sukuna feigns offense at this. But before he can argue, your phone buzzes – it’s a message from your dad.

Mecha Boss meeting’s running late be back in an hour don’t touch his car  9:05AM

You tch, yea yea not like i was gonna    T^T 9:07AM

You sigh dramatically after sending your dad a text. “Dad’s gonna be back in an hour. He said he’ll check your baby by then.” You said to Sukuna with an eye roll as you close your phone.

“Why don’t you check it?” Sukuna perked up out of curiosity.

“I can’t trust myself with supercars, alright? Even dad.” Yes, you were sulking about it.

Sukuna watches you, amusement flickering in his gaze. “What, afraid of supercars?”

“Nope. Just extra careful. If I screw up, you could crash and die. Not something I wanna have on my conscience.” You ruffled your hair into a tousled mess thinking about the possible life and death consequences when you do touch a fucking supercar.

Sukuna chuckles at your animated response and gave you a fucking wink, “Damn. Didn’t know you cared so much about my safety, princess.” 

This left you gaping at him with your eyes twitching, “The audacity –”

He laughs. Full, deep, cocky as hell.

“Don’cha worry, sweetheart, I got a pretty good track record of staying alive.” His voice was practically dripping with smugness, his eyes gleaming with that devil-may-care charm he wore so well.

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips betrayed you, twitching upward. “Yeah, right, Mr. ‘Undefeated King of the Tracks’.” You threw in a set of air quotes for good measure.

That earned another laugh from him, a rich sound that made something in your chest tighten – not that you’d admit it. “Yeah, I think it’s better you don’t touch my car,” he finally conceded, grinning like he’d just let you win.

As his laughter faded, you shook your head, more amused than you wanted to be. Cocky, arrogant, insufferably confident – but there was something about him. Something magnetic.

“Alright,” you replied with a playful smirk, letting the subject of his car checkup drop – for now. “I'll make sure to steer clear of your precious baby.”

Sukuna leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you like he was trying to figure something out. “You know,” he said, his voice dripping lower, more thoughtful now, “I didn't expect to find someone like you here.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what he meant. “Someone like me?”

His smirk softened just a fraction, turning into something more curious. “Yeah. Someone who's not impressed by the usual flashy cars and racing scene.” His gaze flickered over you, assessing. "You're different. Refreshing, even."

Sukuna's words lingered in the air, and you found yourself drawn to the genuine curiosity in his eyes. There was a playful edge to his demeanor that you couldn't ignore.

“Refreshing, huh?” you echoed as you met his gaze with a coy smile playing on your lips. “Well, I'll take that as a compliment, coming from the 'King of the Tracks' himself. I just like fixing cars and stuff.”

Sukuna lets out a low chuckle, a hint of admiration shining in his eyes. “Trust me, it's not a title I give out lightly,” he mused, voice laced with something undeniably flirtatious. “But you? You're in a league of your own.”

Rolling your eyes and waved him off. “Flattery’s cute and all, but that’s really a bold claim coming from you.” You then remembered that you brought your knapsack today and looked for it. As you see it, you pulled it out and fished around inside for your laptop.

You had plans. To study.

Technically.

Your dad had given you some actual race data to review, but instead, you booted up Stardew Valley. See, your mom had made a deal with your dad – if you studied for your upcoming final exam this week (which starts tomorrow, by the way) while you’re at the shop today, you could tag along to the race this weekend.

And in your genius brain, you figured that optimizing a fully automated farm system was basically the same as learning resource management and problem solving.

Flawless logic.

You set up shop on the counter, flipping open your laptop. The familiar pixelated graphics greeted you, and within seconds, you were deep into harvesting your cranberries, managing your sprinklers, and planning the most efficient layout for your barn upgrades and eventual greenhouse.

Sukuna, who had been watching you with mild curiosity over your abrupt attention of not remembering he’s there, suddenly leaned over your shoulder.

“The hell is that?”

You didn’t look up, too focused on getting a perfect harvest cycle before the in-game day reset. “My farm.”

He blinked. “Your what?”

“My farm, pretty boy,” you repeated, exasperated. “I need to get my wine production up and running before winter hits. This is serious business.”

There was a long pause. Then a raucous laughter.

You scowled as Sukuna actually doubled over, gripping the edge of the counter for support as he wheezed.

“Wait – wait,” he gasped between laughs, “you, the grease-covered, ‘I’d rather fix cars than race them’ mechanic, are sitting here, running a farm?”

“Yes,” you said flatly.

He snorted.

You clicked your tongue, eyes still glued to the screen. “It’s called being efficient, sweetheart. I don’t just fix cars, I build sustainable economies.” And please, your kegs weren’t gonna make themselves. 

That earned you a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t peg you for a nerd.”

You finally looked up, smirking. “Didn’t peg you for someone who’d give a shit about a farming sim.”

“I don’t,” he shot back. “I just find it hilarious that someone who refuses to touch a supercar has no problem running an entire pixel farm like a fucking tycoon.” He leaned in closer, tilting his head as he studied your screen. “So what, you just… plant stuff?”

“Plant, harvest, sell, reinvest,” you corrected. “It’s all about strategy.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you. “That sound suspiciously like racing.”

You gave him a deadpan stare. “How in the hell is this like racing?”

He crossed his arms, clearly enjoying himself. “Think about it. You plan your route, optimize your car’s performance, anticipate obstacles, and time everything perfectly to get the best results. What’s the difference?”

“… Shit.” You blinked. He had a point. A stupidly good one. Looking back, your logic is actually flawless. Just sounded stupid coming from him. It’s actually a good thing you’re playing instead of studying those boring race data. You’re subconsciously learning how to strategize better.

Sukuna grinned, clearly reveling in the fact that he just blew your mind. “So basically, you’re a racer. Just… in a really fucking nerdy way.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Don’t make me rethink my entire existence, pretty boy.”

“Nah, I like this.” He drummed his fingers against the counter. “I show up for a routine car check, and instead, I find a grease-streaked mechanic-slash-secret gaming strategist who doesn’t give a damn about street racing but somehow thinks running a fake-ass farm is the height of excitement.”

You shot him a playful glare for that. “You say that like you’re not just as obsessed with your car.”

“Difference is,” Sukuna leaned in, eyes glinting with mischief,  “I drive my baby at over 320 kilometers an hour. You just sit here clicking shit.”

You dramatically gasped, placing a hand over your heart. “How dare you insult my empire?”

His laughter was deep, amused, and annoyingly really nice to listen to. “I’ll give you credit, though. You’ve got a different way of thinking. Kinda refreshing.”

You just puffed your cheeks at this, continuing to play. And when you were at the Stardrop Saloon to talk with some of the villagers, disaster struck.

Sukuna, who is currently grinning like a damn idiot, reached over and hit a random key on your keyboard. And you accidentally gifted your one and only iridium bar to Shane.

You gasped. Audibly.

A horrified silence filled the garage.

On-screen, Shane – the absolute waste of space that he was – sneered and said, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Oh no, your precious, valuable, hard-earned iridium.

Gone. Given to Shane.

FUCK.

You snapped your head towards Sukuna with murder in your eyes. He looked between you and the screen, struggling not to laugh, “…Did I just –”

“YOU –” you pointed at him, voice audibly shaking with rage. “Do you have any idea how rare iridium is? Any idea what you just did?!”

Sukuna, looking way too entertained by your reaction, leaned against the counter, smirking down at you. “Damn, sweetheart. Didn’t think you’d get this worked up over a little farming game.”

“Little farming game,” you inhaled sharply, then exhaled like you were about to commit violence. “You’re fucking paying for this.”

He just grinned. “Yeah? What, you gonna make me till your soil? Water your plants?”

Thank heavens you were in the pantry and playing on the counter. And the knife holder was on the counter. Yep, you grab one and threw a knife at him.

Sukuna barely dodged, the fucking knife clattering onto the floor behind him. He whistled, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Shit, you’re serious.”

“DEAD serious,” you seethed. “You didn’t just give iridium bars to Shane, Sukuna.” Yeah, he definitely wasn’t expecting that the first time you’ll call him by his name was when you want him dead.

He just leaned in, still smirking. “Pretty sure I just did. Whoever that is.”

And you really, really want to strangle him. But then, he moved. One moment he was lounging against the counter like an asshole. The next, he had you trapped against it, hands braced on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

Your breath hitched, totally not expecting this one. And, please, you’re still mad.

His grin turned dangerous, voice dripping low. “You gonna make me pay, princess?”

Your brain short-circuited with how close he is right now to your face. You can practically smell his cologne and feel his heat and that smug, unbearable confidence. His words sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but look up to him (mind you, he is a tall ass handsome man). 

Your fingers twitched at your sides, itching to either shove him away or – God forbid – grab onto his shirt and yank him even closer. You weren’t quire sure which impulse was stronger, but judging by the way his smirk deepened, Sukuna knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

“You gonna keep staring, sweetheart, or are you actually gonna do something about it?” His voice was all smoke and embers, teasing and taunting, like he wanted to see how far he could push you before you snapped.

And, you were this close to snapping.

Your hands shot out, fast enough that he might have flinched if he wasn’t so damn arrogant. Instead of shoving him, you grabbed the collar of his shirt. His smirk widened, but it faltered when you yanked him even closer, lips nearly brushing his ear.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” you whispered.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Oh, I like the sound of that. And that’s exactly why it’s fun.” 

a/n: i don't even know what came over me to write this story. i just know that i put everything what i love here – from a cocky Sukuna to a bratty Reader. and then there's stardew and motorsports. so i hope you'll enjoy this one lol ^^

taglist: @xylov @junitries @bloomtatsuki @maeamora9 @gojoscumslut @onlypickless @domainofmarie

[rqsie63]

SHE'S THE MOMENT - Alex Albon.

pairing: alex albon x actress girlfriend! reader.

face claim: mikey madison (and lily too sometimes).

summary: alex and his girlfriend being on each others social media. (ig comments)

warnings: none?, my first "smau" attempt so don't expect something so great. english is not my first language.

a/n: first formula 1 fic / smau, exciting for my contribution to the Alexander Albon love club.

ynupdates just posted.

liked by ynalexchild, ynfan1, albonation and 3459 others.

ynupdates: her latest looks for final days of press tour! 😍🔥

View all the 285 comments...

ynalexchild: can't believe press tour is ending, but at the same time im happy she's having the vacation she needs ❤️

albonfan1: just in time for f1 summer break, ynalex content is coming

ynalexchild: iktr!!

user1: fourth pic is the reason im a lesbian

ynfan1: i need this movie to be big, her talent is unmatched

ynfan2: she's amazing in this movie, just saw it yesterday

ynhq: CAN YOU FIGHT @.alex_albon

alex_albon: yes 🔪

ynalexchild: alex kskfkgdd

alexftyn: he is so unserious 😭

user23: give her new makeup artist a rise asap

alex_albon just posted.

liked by yourusername, albonfan1, ynalexchild, alexftyn and 276845 others.

alex_albon: summer break!!!!

View all the 24184 comments...

ynalexchild: he is so boyfriend 💙

alexftyn: he is such a hot cutie

❤️ liked by yourusername

yourusername: before anyone asks, YES i can AND WILL FIGHT 🗣️👊

alex_albon: what's the colour of my shirts?

yourusername: nobody is looking at those damn shirts alexander🙄

albonfan23: i need to see fast cars on my screen again asap

georgerussell63: looking good mate

yourusername: stop flirting with my boyfriend

georgerussell63: i wasn't?????

user44: why is your gf not in your holiday post? very narcissistic behaviour

ynhq: you guys are pathetic, she just finished a WORLD press tour, maybe JUST MAYBE she went home a couple of days and then joined Alex in Thailand.

❤️ liked by yourusername

yourusername just posted.

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, georgerussell63, ynalexchild, ynftalex, albonfan23 and 58063 others.

yourusername: since my boyfriend only posts about himself this is ME in thailand if you even care ✨🥂 (he's also there i guess🙄)

view all the 38584 comments...

iamrebeccad: stunning!!

ynalexchild: insane picture choice

ynftalex: damn girl can you fight (or share him)

yourusername: guess I'll have to fight you

ynftalex: smkfkkddk omg hii

alexandrasaintmleux: you are so pretty🔥❤️

alex_albon: "if you even care", I DO CARE

yourusername: prove it then 🤭

ynfan1: thailand looks great on you 💙

ynfan2: love you mother enjoy your vacation

alex_albon just posted.

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, williamsracing, alexandrasaintmleux and 29574 others.

alex_albon: MY GIRLFRIEND and i in Thailand💙😍.

view all the 29475 comments...

georgerussell63: looking good mate (not in a flirtatious way)

carmenmmundt: lindos!!

ynalexchil: the last picture... knowing her someone is sleeping on the couch

albonation: 💙

yourusername: that one picture.... sleep with an eye open 🔪 (i love you so much)

alex_albon: i love you more 💙

carlossainz55: enjoy vacation mate 🥂

albonfan1: amazing photos

albonfan23: is that a SNAKE

yourusername: i was very brave

williamsracing just posted.

liked by yourusername, albonfan1, alex_albon, francolapinto, ynalexchil, ynfan1, ynftalex and 294786 others.

williamsracing: and... we're back! let's push harder the rest of the season 👊💙

view all the 19473 comments...

francofiles: its always alex with the girl and franco with his mate 🧉

yourusername: that's franco's gf put some respect on it's name

alex_albon: love to be back and with the best company 💙

yourusername: such a sweetheart, who would've thought??

alex_albon: im always a sweetheart with u 🙄

francolapinto: get a room

alex_albon: get a girlfriend

yourusername: CASE CLOSED

alex_albon just posted.

liked by yourusername, francolapinto, williamsracing and 29348 others.

alex_albon: second half of the season with the sweetest thing that ever happened to me 💙

view all the 28488 comments...

francolapinto: it's nauseous atp

yourusername: at this point I think you're jealous. sorry he's not SOLTERO (single) for you. francolapinto: where did you learn that word? yourusername: I have my secret contact

francolapinto: who? google translator?

yourusername: rude😔

yourusername: love you my sweet potato 💙

❤ liked by alex_albon

ynalexchild: parents

chloealbon: miss you two💙

yourusername: we miss too sweet angel❤

albonfan1: good luck alex!

yourusername just posted.

liked by alex_albon, jennaortega, ynupdates and 56987 others.

yourusername: having fun working while my boyfriend goes to war (racing fast cars). #anora

view all the 21483 comments...

ynupdates: oh...

ynalexchild: ANOTHER PRESS TOUR, booked and busy 💅

alex_albon: I like your necklace 😍

yourusername: im not wearing any necklace....

yourusername: wait...

yourusername: ALEXANDER ALBON!?

alex_albon: 🙈😻

ynalexchild: these two are crazy

carmenmmundt: im gonna steal you from him

yourusername: let's runaway together

williamsracing just posted.

liked by alex_albon, yourusername, francolapinto, georgerussell63 and 234596 others.

williamsracing: what a rough season it was. time to rest a bit, see you soon 💙

view all the 35876 comments...

yourusername: rest well admin💙

williamsracing: thank you queen!!

alex_albon: let's go team💙

williamsracing: see u soon albono

francolapinto: thank you team for all these races, my dream come true. vamos williams carajo! 💙

williamsracing: gracias franco, vamos!💪

alex_albon just posted.

liked by charlesleclerc, yourusername, georgerussell63, francolapinto and 89347 others.

alex_albon: ups and downs, definitely not the season we wanted, but I'm more than proud of this team, every single person on the williams family; thank you. see you soon!

special thanks you to my lovely sunshine @.yourusername, to the moon and back baby💙🌙

view all the 12597 comments...

yourusername: forever and always proud of you💙🌙

❤ liked by alex_albon

francolapinto: thank you for this good time mate 💪

alex_albon: hope to see you very soon mate, I'll be right here 💪❤

albonfan1: proud of my team and my drivers

williamsracing: we 💙 you alex!

❤ liked by alex_albon

yourusername just posted.

liked by alex_albon, ynalexchild, williamsracing and 134597 others.

yourusername: you might know alex and I because of how much we joke around and how we're always happy or bubbling.

this season was tough, lots of ups and downs, more than you saw or think. and every time we came back stronger than ever.

that's why im so proud of you, @.alex_albon you inspire me every single day, to be stronger, confident and a better person. I love you so much.

view all the 29473 comments...

alex_albon: chat should I marry this woman?

yourusername: you're asking the people? get on your knee and ask the question coward!!

alex_albon: don't need to tell me twice 👀

ynalexchild: engagement announcement incoming lfg!!!

ynupdates: ready to update on whatever it's happening 😨

carmenmmundt: can I be the maid of honor?

yourusername: texting you the details as soon as it happens hahaha

ynhq: best actress, best girlfriend and best girl ever

williamsracing: we love youuuuu

yourusername: love you too admin💙

[feedback it's appreciated ❤] - 7/01/25.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

bllk characters that would pmo so much if i knew them irl:

1. itoshi sae. i genuinely cannot form a solid opinion on this guy, but lemme be honest: i hate nonchalant and un-empathetic people. to be fair, i do act like sae sometimes (quiet and harsh with advice) but only around people who aren’t close with me or are just an asshole and deserves to be treated like shit. ngl, sae is hilarious, but he’s so annoying sometimes.

2. chigiri hyoma. ima be so honest, but if it weren’t for the fact that chigiri is from a manga, i would hate him😭 he’s canonically a narcissist and cares more about himself than most things. to be completely honest here if it weren’t for the fact that chigiri is nice to his friends then chigiri would probably be tied with sae at #1. im also kind of self centered so ig i rlly shouldn’t be talking, but damn does he rlly pmo sometimes.

3. michael kaiser. it pains me to say this, especially since kaiser is my fav character alongside rin, but if i knew this guy irl i would actually beat tf out of him. if he whispers some zesty ahh shit in my ear im filing a restraining order on him tf man. if this guy manipulates me im filing a court case and a therapy session for both me and him. overall, i love him because he’s fictional but i would hate him if he were real.

4. reo mikage but specifically him in the first selection and before. LISTEN I WAS REREADING THE TEAM V VS Z MATCH THE OTHER DAY BECAUSE OF WHAT HAPPENED TO NAGI AND GOD SOMEONE NEEDED TO HUMBLE REO SO BADLY. why was bro sticking his tongue out at like everyone, bro you are NOT itoshi rin man get tf out. if i went to the same school as him irl i would have so much one sided beef against him😭

5. this genuinely pains me but…karasu tabito. LISTEN LISTEN YOU ALL KNOW THAT I LOVE KARASU WITH MY HEART AND SOUL BUT ITS ALSO CANON THAT HE WILL ALWAYS DO THINGS THE TRADITIONAL AND “PROPER” WAY AND YELL AT SOMEONE ELSE IF THEY DONT. i do things very unconventionally and untraditionally and im always up for a new method to do things and new possibilities, so i just know that i would hate karasu bossing me around and telling me what to do😭

[misctf]

I’m studying abroad for uni and my roommate is a typical ‘all-American’ dude who constantly talks about hating being forced to stay with a ‘dirty red coat’ instead of his frat brothers

Of all the roommates you had to be paired with, did it have to be AJ? You had concerns when you stalked his social media. His cocky smile, multiple gym selfies, thirst traps, and American pride gave you a preview of what you were in for. How this man was studying such a nuanced subject like Psychology was beyond you. But meeting the brute in person certainly confirmed your fears.

“Fuck, don’t you do anything besides read? Really dude? Reading?”

“Fuck yeah! That fuckin’ scrub didn’t have a chance.”

“Shit dude, I need you out of the room ASAP. I have some bimbo on her way. Wants to ride this American cock.”

“Dude, seriously? Ever hear of the revolution? We won that shit so we didn’t have to take orders from you dirty red coats. If I want to walk around shirtless, burp, fart, fuck- I’m gonna do it. And you’re not stopping me.”

“Maybe shut up and listen for once. This podcast might change your life, brah.”

And that was just a few of his many lines. Whether it was mocking you, mocking other gamers, diminishing women, ignoring your attempts to compromise, or brushing off your increasing frustration at the sound of some ultra-masculine podcaster, AJ simply gave no shits about you or anyone else.

“You know something, bro?” AJ said one night during your second week together, “This trip would be so much fucking better with one of my bros. Not some dirty red coat, British fuck.” You looked up from your book and raised an eyebrow, “How about you, let loose.”

A tingle runs down your spine, “Wh-what did you say?”

“Nothing brah, I just think you’d do better if you let loose.”

The tingle is stronger this time and you feel lightheaded. You look towards your American roommate and notice the shit-eating grin gracing his face. What the fuck was going on? Why was everything getting so foggy? You try to stand up, mumbling about needing a drink. AJ simply leans back in his chair.

“Nah man, what you need is to let loose.”

Your body begins to move as if possessed, shedding layers of inhibition and inhibition like old skin. The book slips from your grasp as a wave of raw, primal energy surges through your veins. A smirk spreads across your lips as you push yourself up from the chair, the world sharpening into focus.

“Damn right I'm letting loose.” you declare, voice dripping with confidence and a faint Southern drawl, “Time to show this place how us Americans party.”

Your movements become more fluid, almost predatory as you prowl towards the door. The mirror catches your reflection - your posture has changed, shoulders squared, chest puffed out. Part of you thinking how ridiculous your lanky frame looks exuding so much confidence, but any self-doubt is drowned in waves of narcissistic self-love.

AJ grinned approvingly, “Now that's more like it, bro!”

He clapped you on the shoulder and handed you one of his ballcaps. You grab it and slap it on backwards before sauntering out into the night...

____

Groggy and disoriented, you slowly open your eyes to find yourself sprawled across the couch, still wearing yesterday's clothes. Memories of the previous night come flooding back in fragmented flashes - shots, dancing, trash talking, hitting on some random dudes and chicks... Shame and confusion wash over you as the reality of your actions sinks in.

“Ugh, what the hell happened last night?” you groan, rubbing your temples. Suddenly, AJ's booming laughter fills the room.

“Aww, someone's feeling rough today!” he chuckles, shaking his head, “Guess you weren't used to keeping up with real men.” As you sit up, trying to clear the fog from your mind, AJ takes a step closer, eyeing you critically. “But damn, dude... You really gotta work on that physique. It’s holding you back.”

A sense of dread fills you, mixing with your pounding headache and churning stomach. You glance down at your comparatively scrawny frame and suddenly it feels alien, inadequate. As if responding to AJ's dismissive words, your body aches for something...more.

“Let loose... Get buff,” he says nonchalantly, stretching and flexing his own impressive biceps.

Immediately, you feel your body reacting against your will. Your muscles twitch and tighten, a strange sense of urgency building inside you. The rational part of your mind screams in protest, but it's quickly silenced by a surge of adrenaline and testosterone. Without conscious thought, you find yourself stripping off your shirt and heading towards the makeshift weights area in your dorm room. The familiar burn of exertion fills your limbs as you begin lifting, grunting and growling with each repetition. You don’t know what is happening... why this is happening... And those questions are your last conscious thoughts as you drift into your subconscious...

----

Slowly, groggily, you blink awake. Sunlight streams in harshly through the window, making you squint and wince. Disorientation clouds your mind as you struggle to process your surroundings. Where are you? What day is it? Pulling aside the sheets, you catch sight of your body - no longer lean and lanky, but rippling with muscle and definition. A pungent odor mimicking AJ's fill your nostrils and you realize with growing horror that its coming from you. Glancing down, you see unfamiliar boxer shorts emblazoned with the American flag. Panic rising in your throat, you scramble out of bed, stumbling slightly under the weight of your newly enhanced physique. Memories flicker and dance at the edges of your consciousness. Fragmented images of relentless training sessions, endless protein shakes, and vials labeled 'Anadrol' and 'Deca-Durabolin’.

“What the fuck...” you mutter hoarsely, voice deeper than you remember. “What's happening to me?”

Did you really spend the past week pumping iron and injecting yourself with steroids? The thought alone makes you feel ill. Staggering to the bathroom, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Gone is the shy, bookish Brit. Now, you’re something else entirely. In the background, you hear AJ's boisterous laugh echoing down the hall. Footsteps approach and he bursts into the room, taking in your bewildered expression with a satisfied grin.

“Hey there, champ!” AJ greets you enthusiastically, slapping you on the back hard enough to make you stumble. “Lookin' good, bro! Knew you had it in ya.”

Confusion swirls in your head as you try to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of your fractured memories.

“Wha- what's going on? Did you...did you drug me?”

AJ laughs heartily, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Drugs? Nah, man. Unless you mean the steroids.” He chuckles, “Just a little hypno-training from my favorite podcast. Helped unlock your inner alpha, ya know?”

“Wh-what, how?” You cringe- your British accent was fading, intermixing with hints of southern twang.

AJ steps closer, looming over you with an intense gaze. “See, I've always dreamed of having a true American bro by my side. Someone to share in my love of freedom, guns, and sweet ass. And you, my friend, are gonna be that bro.” He snaps his fingers, and you feel a sudden jolt, like a shockwave ripping through your mind.

The shockwave crashes over you, drowning out every ounce of reason and restraint. Like a dam bursting, a tidal wave of pure, unfiltered American machismo floods your psyche. Thoughts of literature, intellectual discourse, and subtle wit are swept away, replaced by a singular focus on strength, virility, and unbridled patriotism.

“I'm gonna make you the ultimate American stud. No more of that pussy-ass British bullshit. From now on, you're all about the red, white, and blue.”

With each word, you feel your identity shifting, morphing, until you're barely recognizable even to yourself. It's like flipping a switch - suddenly, every fiber of your being throbs with the pulse of the Stars and Stripes. Your vocabulary shrinks, simplifying into a barrage of Americanisms and slang. Words like “dude”, “bro”, and “fuckin”' roll off your tongue effortlessly. Memories of your former self flicker in the recesses of your mind, but they hold no sway over you anymore. Instead, you revel in the glory of your newfound masculinity, flexing your bulging biceps and admiring your chiseled jawline in the mirror. Your thoughts race, a whirlwind of pure, unadulterated American pride. Every cliché, every stereotype, every over-the-top portrayal of the quintessential frat boy - they all converge in your mind, forming a perfect picture of the man you've become.

“I'm living the dream, man.” you declare, your Southern drawl growing thicker with each syllable, “Who needs books when you got these guns?”

Grinning ear to ear, you strike a pose, showcasing your newly sculpted physique. The sheer joy of being a jock, a true-blue American stud, courses through your veins like liquid gold.

“It's like I was born to be a bro.” you chuckle, slapping AJ on the back, “Thanks for showing me the light, dude. I owe ya big time.” And in this moment, nothing else mattered.

----

One year later, you're sitting on the shore of Lake Travis, surrounded by your fellow frat brothers. Cold beer in hand, tanned muscles glistening in the sun, you couldn't ask for a better life. College is just a blur of keggers, sex, and weightlifting sessions between classes. Who needs grades when you got charisma and Southern charm? Across the beach, AJ lounges in a deck chair, watching you with a smug grin. His work here is done. You're the perfect embodiment of American masculinity.

Laughter rings out as you sprint towards the lake, splashing and horsing around like a pack of wild animals. In this moment, you're truly free - free from the constraints of intellect, free from the burdens of responsibility. You're just a simple, happy-go-lucky American jock, living life to the fullest.

[evilminji]

God, I am... so obsessed? (SI-OC thoughts)

PIDM/SVSSS/Xanxia let me gooooo .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.

Back on my bullshit, with another Treasures Maker™. But like... make um TANK. Go ALL in. No being coy about it. No holding back. Balls to the wall, batshit insane Treasure Maker.

A real "w-why would you..." Sort of creator. Tentacle with a knife sort of "....wanted to see what would happen." Kind of gal. No one is safe and EVERYONE is nervous. Put the crafting supplies DOWN, shimei! Back AWAY from the crafting rooms! You KNOW you have to be supervised in there!

No one wants another... Incident™! (WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THE INCIDENT™!!!)

Cause like?

They? Had a brother. That brother? Was gross. We love um, but teenagers, man. Violence and boobs. 2 Edgy 4 U media. That sort of shit. It was his bread and butter for like... Puberty.

Not! To say he was a bad kid! God, no! But he WAS basicly soaking in sweat, hormones, and teenage "oh god I'm so horny I couldd die but also AaaaaaAAAAAAA-!!!!" Brain fuckery. Not fun. She survived it, does NOT recommend, but still retains the Sisterly right to ROAST his deeply shit reading tastes (lightly).

After all? Who amongst us? Has not read terrible, terrible Smut based power fantasies? People in glass houses and all that.

.....she DOES wish she, you know, stuck it out. Read that trashfire COMPLETELY. Not just the spark notes, wiki, and that hilarious rant compilation of the Honorable Cucumber Bro (A Legend, we stan. God, what a psycho(affectionate)). But like... not her genre, man. She's an otome nerd. Her Meta knowledge aint worth SHIT.

But! Trying to relate to her brother? Listening to him excitedly talk about the latest chapters and current arcs? DID leave her with SOME knowledge. Enough knowledge.

Specifically?

This world is SHIT to women.

Like? A legit horror reality. Everyone has somehow? Still got that bullshit, purity culture, your honor is stored in your virginal, mint condition, breeding stock hoo-haa. While being surrounded by more natural aphrodisiacs then any Hentai universe could excuse! Like? EXCUSE ME!?

You can't SPIT, without hitting three Fuck Or Die plants and the aphrodisiac poisoning monster that LIVES IN UM!

But we, the WOMAN, would be a whore, should we be struck by the damn near inevitable? Airplane... you sexist HACK! (*Qinghau... feels like he's in danger*)(He swears he DIDNT MEAN IT! He just didn't think of the implications! About A LOT OF SHIT!)

Not to MENTION?

The fucking (quite literally) BODY HORROR fuckboi Protagonist! With his MONSTER DICK! Like? Look... she is a GROWN ASS WOMAN, okay? She KNOWS how sex works! Apparently, she is one of the privileged few in this universe who DOES. And while her little brother and that hack author may buy into the troupe "all women want huuuuuge, big, improbable, monster dicks"?

Ha ha! GOD, No. They do NOT. That is PURELY a male thing! It's a masculinity thing. Some power fantasy, male envy, "look how manly I am" bullshit. WOMEN? Have ORGANS. And while there ARE outliers (gods bless, we salute you. Go for greatness, you mad, mad queens.) MOST of us? Like bits that FIT.

You know... WITHOUT the Protagonist's so called "blood Gu". (Thanks! That's a HORRIFYING THOUGHT! Both on the "what do MEAN he, a non medically trained fuckboi, LITERALLY REARRANGED THEIR INSIDES?" lvl AND on the "WHAT DO YOU MEAN PARASITES IN THE BLOOD‽‽‽" lvl.)

So SI-OC? Rightfully? Wants Mr "All Women Are Belong To Me" NO WHERE near her. The fact that he's a demon? Irrelevant. The fact that he's an unrepentant MONSTER of a man? With a body horror dick? VERY relevant.

BEGONE XANXIA SATAN.

Leave her and her orifices the FUCK ALONE. You psychotic, sect murdering, realities destroying, selfish, narcissistic Fuckboi!

Not that she remembers much of the "cool motive, still murder" Phase of his life. Nor does she care, with how many people he fucks over. She wants to get far, FAR away from that mess. And more SPECIFICALLY? She wants to SURVIVE that mess. Which requires power.

She doesn't HAVE power.

But? She DOES have some Meta knowledge... and a shit ton of patience.

Cause after all, what is better then a protection talisman sewn onto a robe? Ten Thousand Protection Talismans sewn onto a robe, which is only ONE of a SET. And that? She can do.

To hell with pretty embroidery. Flowers and bamboo. Birds in flight. No, with Qi enhanced sight, and steady hands? The finest needle and the strongest, thinnest, thread? Script so tight and small it light grains of rice. Over and over and OVER. Each of her layers, holding thousands upon thousands of words. So small it's near impossible to read.

Which, of course, is to say nothing of the ribbons. Such long HAIR, after all! Only a FOOL wouldn't make USE of that space. Portioning out her head into hundreds of tiny braids, talisman written ribbons woven all the way down.

Every bit and piece of her clothing, a masterwork of steady repetition and patience. A fortress, built brick by brick. Not inconquerable. But strong enough, that even the heavens would strain.

Of course... only so long... as she's WEARING such armor.

Everyone must sleep eventually. Must bathe. You can not wear only one thing FOREVER. And that IS the difference between the strength you create and the strength you simply possess. One of them? Is always with you.

And like? Imagine it.

Big Sister. The penultimate Immovable Object facing off against Bingme's Unstoppable Force. Her DECADES of quite preparation unfurling like the waking of a slumbering GOD. All those traitors to the Sect. Women who BETRAYED their own. Betrayed their bothers and sisters, the CHILDREN they were supposed to guide and teach. For DICK. Having their attacks against her turned back against them.

Lethally.

As the remaining Peak Lords fight, a literal beacon of power. Of Safety. Sweeping through and grabbing survivors. Tossing them into a hidden realm she's literally wearing around her neck. Small but stable, her graduates work in progress. It's sparse in there. More bare earth and barely planted medical plants then anything. A few fruit trees.

But? It's beyond the reach of these invaders. And unless Luo Binghe kills her? Gets past her every defense and prys the anchor from her cold dead hands? Then they are safe. For now.

The sect may be lost. At least in terms of buildings, land. But it's PEOPLE? The important part? Not so long as she lives. The selfish dramas of demons and men are none of her concern. She has students, children, and the injured to protect.

And obviously, this makes her a target. She's shining like a God damn mini sun. It's not subtle. But the sect is burning, there's demons everywhere, she kinda expected that. At least she gets to kill a few of those traitorous "wives" on her way out.

(They betrayed their sisters. Their students. Their FRIENDS! This was their FUCKING HOME!! If they thought the Sect unforgivable? They should have LEFT. Not attacked as children fled for their lives. Cultivators are meant to kill monsters, not BECOME them.)

She takes them, her copies of as much of the libraries as she could manage on her own (it's not enough. Forgive her. She had to prioritize.) and heads for the border of the map. As fast as Cultivation can travel.

Did the Realms truely merge? Or did this portion collapse together? If they fly far enough, will they find the edge? And should it ALL have collapsed... he's not explored it yet. They have time to rebuild. Heal. Train and grow stronger..

All is not lost. Not yet.

Besides...

Who's to say that Fuckboi is the only Protagonist in this world? The only child of the Heavens? Maybe there are other gods. Maybe... maybe those gods are pissed. At the presumption. The arrogance. Maybe... just maybe, those gods will help. Who can say? It's never been done.

But is that not the duty of a righteous cultivator? To do what is right? To fight against monsters? What greater monster is there then this? The child not embraced by the village, will come to burn it down. But Luo Binghe? He has decided to burn the WORLD to ashes. And such madness must be stopped.

It doesn't matter how it began. They're gonna end it.

Together.

@mayfay @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj @leftnotright