#xo. i get bored

[solar-halos]

heyyy turn up bisexuality for the win

[muchadoaboutnot]

⚔️

The way he breathes through his nostrils so heavily, Leto eyes Samson suspiciously when he makes it up to her.

The sounds of Skyhold can be heard all around them now. Just beyond the door they stand at, the rest of the Hold is full of life. They've done a number of repairs on this fortification and The Inquisition so far has attracted a number of people. To Leto, it's fine, it almost seems like Kirkwall but nicer. But to Samson, it's noise, noise, and more noise and now he's going to get stared at.

"Are you okay?" These are her first words to him, not something she was going to originally say as she had a whole little quip inside her mind. But now concern won over that.

Right away the man himself wants to bite back, the thought of having her pity him leaves an unpleasant feeling in the pit of him. Even though he's well aware of the state he is in.

"The dispel took a lot out of me."

At his response she gives an incredulous look, "Then why did you do it?"

Through gritted teeth, he closed his eyes slowly. "Because you asked."

A pregnant silence settles between them, Leto even wonders if she should make Samson walk back down the stairs and be done with it. But she's stubborn and pushes on.

"Alright, well... We can just catch our breath a li-"

"Don't pity me."

Samson's biting reply causes Leto to turn her whole body towards him, using her hands to emphasize how she feels.

"Look. We are going to spend a lot of time together, so if we get along that'll help, yeah?"

The man eyes her, clearly, he has choice words but he picks his battles and only makes a noise of agreement. It's not a grunt, and it sort of makes Leto frown but also it's comical so she feels like one of those tragedy and comedy masks at the same time.

"Good. Good..." She nods her head and looks thoughtful.

"Now what?"

At his question, Leto starts to think of all the things they need to do and what a good order to do them in. Point in case she eyes him critically, causing him to look away from her and cross his arms over his front. Fidgeting on his feet.

"How about... Sleeping quarters, Clothes, bath, and then food."

Samson almost feels relief just from her words, the thought of taking a bath sounds like heaven to him, and everything else is an added bonus.

"Yeah, yeah that sounds good." His tone has softened for the first time since they've started talking. A grateful look somewhere in the back of his dark eyes before he flicks his gaze away and out towards the immediate courtyard in front of them.

Leto just nods and gives a jerk of her head and he gets the idea, and they start to walk.

Now Leto herself is used to stares, mostly admiring, mostly positive. So to get strange ones, anything negative, it's a sort of novelty to her; her attitude is nonchalant and she breezes past people easily. It's Samson following behind who finds jealousy in how she's unaffected by all the stares and whispers. Although granted he knows he should be locked away, he's well aware of what he's done and he knows a lot of the people staring are probably people who would rather have seen him be executed. But as it was he was currently doing his best to ignore everything going on around him and keep up with Hawke.

A couple of times he sees her peeking back at him, probably making sure he's following. Funny he thinks how she's already trusting him to just follow along, although he feels worst in knowing she's right to assume because he doesn't have anything in him to do anything but what she wants him to do right now. He feels sort of lost and drifting, therefore it's easy to let someone else do the thinking. For now.

"Are you listening?" When Leto's voice pierces through Samson's thoughts he almost runs into her back, she's stopped in her tracks right in front of him. Holding out his arms to steady himself and almost touches her before he wobbles on his feet momentarily and centers himself. An annoyed look on his features immediately.

"What?"

"I was saying, you'll be sharing the tower I took for myself with me." She turns her head and points up to one of the towers on the ramparts. There are several of them around the hold, each has something different inside, Cullen has one himself with his desk and office at the bottom, while a loft at the top. "When I first joined the Inquisition they were halfway done with a lot of stuff, so I claimed one that had got untouched still. Hestia asked if I wanted a room inside, but I prefer out here." She's friendly now and just conversing with him.

Samson however thinks to himself he doesn't really care but is trying to be polite. "This means more stairs." Is all he can say and that makes the woman in front of him look away, she's trying not to laugh or giggle. Because the observation he makes is right and the way she knows how he handles stairs is sort of...

"Yeah, well, you'll get used to it. We'll be going up and down a lot, so it's good exercise."

Again Leto leads him up the stone steps, although it's easier going because at one point the crisp and cooling air of the mountain top feels exquisite. Like luxury itself, Samson thinks. Even though the dungeon isn't anything near as gross or bad as it could be, it is still stifled and humid. So to be outside and up on the ramparts now he takes in the air and looks out, the view itself is beautiful. Something inside his chest constricts and he's almost in disbelief in himself how good it feels to be out of the cell, how much he missed something like the sky.

His handler, however, she slows and watches him look around. She can see something on his face that's several different emotions, again she feels the pity feeling but tells herself to stop. Its no use feeling bad for him, again, he's out now so she tells herself to keep to the present and waits for him.

Appreciation at her waiting, Samson begins to follow along again.

Leto's tower isn't big, and when she opens the door it's unassuming. There's no decorations but it's swept clean with a small table and two chairs in a makeshift foyer-looking area. While there's three doors all closed. One door is on the left of the table, and the other door is on the right. While the third door is away from the rest.

"Right. So the door all by its lonesome is the water closet. Don't ask how I managed a toilet in her, but I did. Now the door to the left of the table is my room, the right is your room."

That causes Samson to whistle. "I get my own room?"

Leto simply shrugs, "Did you think you'd be in the barracks with the soldiers? Or every night you'd descend back to your cell?"

Actually, he did think he was going to his cell every night but he doesn't speak his thoughts.

"Anyways, the rooms are tiny because this tower isn't meant to be, you know, an actual tower for living in. The walls are thin but I made them with force magic, using leftover stone."

She walks towards the door that'll be his room and opens it, he trails in while she stays in the doorway. It's unassuming and she's right, small, but it has a basic bed, a small table and... A tub.

"There's a tub in here."

"Yeah... This room used to just be the one I took a bath in, because one day I decided I didn't want to use the communal one so I dragged a bathtub up here, so I had my own room, a bathroom, and a water closet." She looks sort of proud of herself before chuckling. "Sorry, the tub stays, but hey whenever you want to take a bath you get first dibs. But that also means when I want to take a bath you're kicked out of your room, obviously."

Samson doesn't say anything to that and simply walks over to his new bed and sits down. He can't help himself and a huge sigh of relief leaves his body, sinking down he puts his elbows on his knees and sort of sags forward. Running his hands over his face and head. Leto watches all of this in silence before she breaks it.

"What size shirt and pants do you wear?"

"What?" When he glances up at her, there's some confusion before recognition and he tells her.

Leto herself nods and then she walks into his room, but then she looks apologetic and sheepish. "Oh, um, I'm coming in, sorry."

The fact that she felt the need to apologize to him is rather comical, yet Samson does appreciate it even though he feels weird about the whole situation still. So he can't do much in reply except shrug and let her do as she pleases.

Taking that as it's okay she walks to the side of the tub, creating a fist over it and slowly a little cloud begins to appear and it rains. He watches in fascination as the tub is filled. It takes a little over 5 minutes though, it's not instant. The instant part is when Leto warms the water with fire magic and he has a hot bath.

"Ta-da!" She so proud of herself when she looks at Samson he doesn't know how to react right away. Her genuine feelings make him feel off, he thinks he hasn't been around people enough to react properly anymore. Something the cells took from him but also he feels... Undeserving of this treatment.

At a lack of response, Leto becomes quiet, looks around, and then starts to exit his room, subdued by his silence yet before she leaves she: "I'll grab you clothes. They'll be standard things soldiers wear, also there's a soap with lime in the table right there, and a scrubby pad." After that, she closes the door behind herself and he's left alone.

[withluvkay]

Your Life’s Not Boring—You’re Just on Your Phone Too Much

If you’ve been feeling glued to your phone—especially apps like TikTok and Instagram—you’re not alone. So many of us are stuck in this loop, and it can seriously mess with our energy, motivation, and overall health.

One thing I’ve struggled most with lately is comparison. Feeling like what I do just isn’t... enough. If you’ve felt that too, this post is for us both. A little reminder that:

✨ You are enough, just as you are. ✨ You’ve survived every hard day, and your inner child and I are so proud of you. Don't ever forget how far you've come as a person! If all you did was make your bed and hydrate today, that's a win worth celebrating. You're doing just fine, and you'll do all that you wish to on your own divine timing.

And yes, your life isn’t boring. You might just be too distracted to see how beautiful it really is. So instead of escaping it, let’s try to romanticize it!

10 Ways to Romanticize Your Life & Be More Present

Wake up a little earlier. It doesn’t have to be 5 AM (unless that’s your thing). Even an hour earlier can give you quiet time to get things done without distractions.

Take an "everything shower." These are pretty meditative for me in a way. I like to imagine the water washing off all my stress and stagnant energy I may have accumulated throughout the day. Like a reset button!

Make a breakfast you’d actually get out of bed early for. Pancakes? Fruit? Whatever makes your inner child happy.

Play jazz or soft instrumentals while doing everyday activities. Instant cozy vibes.

Read outside. Sitting on your porch or even by a window gives you that vitamin D and a fresh perspective.

Find a screen-less hobby you enjoy. Try crochet, painting, poetry, LEGO kits, pottery, etc. Block-building kits are my fave—they’re so fun and satisfying. Just remember to take breaks and stretch!

Re-watch something comforting or start something new. That show you keep skipping past might become your next obsession.

Connect. If you’ve been stuck in your room all day, talk to someone. Call a friend, hug your pet, or chat with family. A quick convo with my mom always boosts my mood!

Learn something new! When was the last time you went out of your way to explore something you didn’t already know? (and nope, school doesn’t count.) Take a moment to find a subject you’ve never looked into or dive deeper into one you already know a little about. Pick up on a new language, study an unfamiliar culture, or even try learning a random skill just for fun. Expanding your mind keeps life feeling fresh and exciting.

Travel (if you can). I can't stress this one enough!! Even just getting out of town for a single 24 hours can give you a whole new perspective. A change of scenery does wonders, especially when life feels repetitive. It doesn't have to be far, either. You can travel to the next city over and explore what it's like there!

Remember: Social media is NOT real life. That influencer who’s always partying in Miami with a closet full of designer bags? You’re seeing their highlight reel, not the full picture. Some even goes as far as faking luxury lifestyles for the views. Don’t compare your behind-the-scenes to someone else’s curated feed. At the end of the day, it's all for the aesthetics/entertainment.

Be gentle with yourself. You're doing better than you think, angel. xo, Kay 🪽

[ogwintersmind]

Bakugou Katsuki headcanons

When you first meet:

He HATES you. He hates everyone, but something about you just really makes his blood boil.

Everytime Aizawa forces him into a group with you he complains nonstop about how "stupid" and “annoying” you are and now he'd much rather do the project/assignment himself.

He hates it when Kiri or any of his other friends talk to you because he doesn’t understand now anyone could hold a conversation with someone as annoying as you.

Dare I say he finds you more annoying than Deku? (No that's impossible… right?)

After he gets to know you:

He's learned to tolerate your presence these days, though he still finds you annoying.

He'll attempt to have conversations with you over text but he ends up forgetting to respond most of the time.

He “helps” you with your homework while throwing insults about how stupid you are out the whole time.

He also doesn't mind you talking his "friends" anymore.

When he starts catching feels:

He tolerates your presence even more now, dare I say he loves it? (Winkie wink).

He initiates conversations with you first over text and in person, the name calling doesn't stop tho. It’s just apart of who he is.

He’ll offer to help with your homework and training and gives his own... Katsuki compliments. (though you swear they're just less harsh versions of the usual insults he gives others.)

Kirishima is the only one who has conformation that katsuki likes you, everyone else definitely has their speculations.

After you guys start dating:

He listens to you ramble about whatever it is that's on your mind, whether it be good or bad. (He doesn't even insult you!)

If he goes to the store he'll pick up items he knows you like and things that remind him of you.

If you don't respond to his message(s) quick enough he'll think you hate him and text kiri a bunch asking what he should do and if he's a bad boyfriend or not (he's not.)

When listening to music he adds songs you like to his playlist so when you're around you two can enjoy the playlist together.

He holds your backpack/purse for you even if you don't ask.

After you marry:

He was nervous to propose ... What if you say "no" what if you didn't like the ring???

Good thing you said yes and loved the ring.

The wedding was a small intimate event with close friends and family, kirishima as his best-man.

You two buy a nice sized home together and a cat (he swears he hates "that damn thing” but it's really his best friend.)

Housework is 50/50 you clean, he cooks, etc.

After a few months of marriage you're begging for babies and so... He gives them to you.

The end.

Hi friends!! I hope you enjoyed reading! I haven't wrote in a longgg time so its rusty I'm sorry lol..

This post is not proofread so sorry for any grammar mistakes!

Thank you for reading, have a good rest of your day/afternoon/night!

XO - winter ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

(I really rushed the end because I bored sorry)

Dividers not mine (i don't remember who i got them from sorry )!

[soft4gguk]

yearning | ch. 1

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of spring breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 

You think of him. 

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 

You check the time. 

2:32 A.M.

~

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 

He gets it now – the pull. 

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 

~

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase. 

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, that too.”

~

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 

Yearning. 

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 

Yeah – yearning. 

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.” 

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you. 

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

~

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug. 

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 

~

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 

He said he’d never forget that day. 

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 

~

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

~

[mxrcurysb1tch]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 🌷 Venus through the signs pt. 1 🌷 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝜗𝜚 Venus is the planet of love, connection and beauty. Where she is located in your chart (ie your venus sign) is how you love and connect with other people (both romantic and friendship, I believe). It can explain if you’re a quiet or loud lover, if you’re adventurous or cautious, romantic or practical. As always, take what resonates and leave the rest bbys! Xo

𝜗𝜚 Aries Venus- jump first, think later. These people fall into love hard and fast. It’s love and attraction at first sight. If you capture their interest they’ll jump head first and won’t look back. They’re bold in love and unafraid to make the first move (although they’ll be very impressed if you beat them to it!). The risk is that they run in blind without taking the time to consider if this person is truly the right fit but hey, to an Aries Venus that’s part of the fun. They might get bored once the initial spark wears off but if they’re committed they’re extremely loyal and protective. Certainly not one to wallow about loves lost.

𝜗𝜚 Taurus Venus- like any good earth sign a Taurus Venus is going to be super picky. And not in the way that Virgo is wanting you to be perfect or Capricorn wanting you to be useful. No, Taurus just doesn’t want to let anybody in who will disturb their sweet inner balance and comfort. Taurus Venus will move slowly, making you prove that you are worthy of them. They know real love won’t be rushed and they’re more than happy to wait it out, sometimes for too long and they miss the opportunities right infront of their eyes.

𝜗𝜚 Gemini Venus- This Venus has somewhat of a reputation. I don’t think they’re actually as bad as everyone says but if you’re boring to them you’re out. They need to be intellectually stimulated and they might not always be able to find that in a single partner. This is why they might play the field before committing, they’re looking for the most interesting option and they won’t be caught lacking. I wouldn’t say they have high standards but they do want someone who will capture their attention and who is as interesting as they are. They’re flirtatious and quick with words which draws people in. A Gemini Venus is looking for an intellectual partner and freedom. Controlling, codependent types will make them run a mile.

𝜗𝜚 Cancer Venus- These people’s ability to romanticise anything is truly unparalleled. They have a big heart and a way of making their loved ones feel truly seen and appreciated. They’re somewhat needy and naive lovers and their need for security and roots is what drives their mate choice. A cancer Venus is not one for casual hookups or empty promises. They’re easily hurt in love so it may take them a long time to trust if they’ve been burned before. If you’re prepared for intensity and dedication from day one though they’re truly sweet, warm and loyal and will make you feel cared for like no other. Once they’ve set their sites on love though, moving on may be a challenge and they’re prone to being just a little clingy.

𝜗𝜚 Leo Venus- Leo Venus just wants to be adored and in return they will adore you. They’re into grand gestures and they expect them from their partners. They long to be shown off like the prize that they are, so don’t keep them as your little secret. They’re not shy in love but they can air on the side of caution if they feel like they’re not being appreciated in the way they deserve to be. They are truly uplifting and they will make sure you know that you are loved and special to them. Leo Venus is extremely warm and pretty romantic but they must remember that love is not a one person game or a competition. They must also remember not to use grand gestures to mask feelings of insecurity in love.

𝜗𝜚 Virgo Venus- Thoroughly unimpressed by the fluffiness of romance, the Virgo Venus seeks to approach love in the only way they know how, by careful observation, analysis and precision. Obviously, they’re not devoid of sensitive loving feelings but it can certainly seem that way. It’s just that romance doesn’t come easily for them, and it is safer for them to have a plan. They won’t get carried away by romantic fantasies that can get them hurt. This is the Venus that will settle for the secure option and then gradually reform their partner from the ground up into exactly what they want them to be, and you’ll let them because really they’re making your life better. You may become annoyed by their constant critiquing but you’ll stay because like any Virgo placement they have a sweet healing serenity to them and kind eyes that want to help.

I hope you guys enjoyed! Stay tuned for part 2 ;)

[nevernonline]

✧.* how to lose the girl; xmh

synopsis: minghao was feeling tired of shallow relationships. his friends, noticing his frustration, challenge him to pursue a girl and then push her away within ten days. intrigued by the idea, he reluctantly accepts the bet as a fun challenge.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring/s: afab reader x non-idol hao.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), low-key fuckboy hao

warning/s: alcohol consumption, some bad jokes, nothing too bad or seggsy

word count: 10.3k

content: all the vibes of how to lose a guy in ten days but nawt. enjoy xo!

Day 1 - The Bet

In the lively heart of the city, Minghao, was out flaunting his charming looks and a playful grin, typically on his much too expensive and lavish work lunches which gave him and the rest of his colleges an excuse to pick up a bunch of beautiful women to take home every night, a lot of them falling hard for him no matter how poorly he left them hanging the morning after. But lately, he noticed how he always found himself drowning in a sea of shallow connections, and it was starting to wear on him.

Sensing his distress, his friends hatched an interesting plan to inject some excitement into his love life: they dared him to make a girl fall for him and then push her away in just ten days! “No way in fucking hell could he pull this off, he’ll get bored by day four.” jeered one friend, gleefully rubbing his hands together. With a mix of reluctance and curiosity bubbling inside him, Minghao accepted, eager to see how fast he could make a girl sprint for the exit.

Across town, y/n was navigating her own challenges. She was as her friends described a fierce, independent powerhouse who was on a mission to conquer the advertising world and prove to her office overrun by male colleagues that she meant business. Relationships? She just viewed them for what they were distractions in her quest for success—something she simply couldn’t afford. With her sights set on her career, she was about to discover just how unpredictable life and love could be when the most unexpected challenges came knocking. 

Day 2 - The Meeting

Minghao first spotted Y/n at a coffee shop, her eyes glued to her laptop as she furiously typed, rather loudly should he add. He decided she would be the perfect target. Something about her tight lipped focused face, her hair perfectly slicked into a ponytail, not a hair out of place, something about her felt more like a challenge than a perfect sweep for his bet. 

He approached her with his trademark smile, confident and carefree. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing toward the empty chair across from her. y/n looked up, a mix of annoyance and intrigue in her gaze. 

“Actually, yes,I don’t care to do my work around a fuck boy flirting with me, my office has enough of those. Have a good day.” she replied bluntly, not ready to be derailed from her work.

Minghao, undeterred by her obvious dismissal, sat down anyway. “I’m Minghao,” he introduced himself. “And I think you owe me a chance to change your mind.”

She raised an eyebrow, still looking down at her computer, typing a bit less loud now, almost as if she was intrigued and didn’t want him to know but the scowl on her face said she was still skeptical. “Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in closer. “Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he replied playfully. “But first, you’ll have to let me take you on a perfect first date.”

Y/n almost chuckled at his audacity, but there was an undeniable spark of intrigue in her gaze. Little did she know, mingling with Minghao was about to shake up her life. 

“Fine. If that will get you to leave me alone while I work, I’ll agree.” 

“I’m not leaving here until I get your contact information,” Minghao laughed. 

Rolling her eyes, Y/n dug through her wallet, searching for a business card. “Here,” she said, finally pulling one out and extending it towards him.

But Minghao just held his hand up in a stop-motion gesture, shaking his head. “No, not a business card. I need to know you’ll actually show up, so let me have your personal phone number instead.”

Y/n stared at him, incredulity mixing with a lingering smile. “Oh, so bold. And what makes you think I will?”

“Because,” he leaned closer, his expression earnest now, “I have a feeling that once you get to know me, you won’t want to miss out. Plus, if I leave with a business card, how will I ever convince you to let me take you on that perfect date?”

Her skepticism flickered for a second under the brightness of his confidence, but she still hesitated. “You really think you can convince me?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone teasing yet sincere. “And if I fail, I promise I’ll leave you alone forever. Deal?”

For a moment, Y/n pondered the spontaneity of his request, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, a grin broke free on her lips as she typed her number into his phone, the anticipation of the unknown sparking excitement within her. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, handing back the phone with a hint of warning in her tone.

Minghao's eyes lit up with genuine delight as he saved her contact. “You won’t regret this,” he promised, his voice softening a touch.

As he returned the phone to her, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter of uncertainty mixed with exhilaration. Perhaps there was something to this spontaneous gamble after all. Little did they know, that simple decision would pave the way for an unforgettable connection and adventures neither had anticipated.

Day 3 - The Chase

Over the days that followed, Minghao played his part, showering her with attention that ranged from over-the-top romantic gestures to quirky surprises. He brought her favorite pastries to the office, sent her memes that made her laugh, and even bombarded her with cheesy pick-up lines. Each time, Y/n found herself torn between annoyance and amusement.

At first, she had tried to brush him off, responding to his texts with one-word replies or simply ignoring his more audacious attempts to brighten her day. However, Minghao persisted, his cheerful determination almost unwavering. One afternoon, she returned from a long meeting to find her desk decorated with colorful sticky notes adorned with doodles and handwritten compliments. “You’re the best part of my day,” one note claimed, and despite her initial irritation, a small smile tugged at her lips.

Minghao was relentless, his charm starting to break down her walls. She had to admit there was something about him—he was refreshingly carefree, unlike the uptight guys she usually dated. While others might have tried to impress her with their accomplishments or flashy gifts, Minghao found ways to make her laugh, embracing a lightheartedness that was both refreshing and frightening. But Y/n was determined to keep him at arm's length; she had a career to focus on.

Still, the more time they spent chatting, the more she found herself looking forward to his texts. Each meme and quirky voice note felt less like an intrusion and more like a highlight of her day. One evening, after a particularly grueling week, she found herself daydreaming about a potential picnic under the stars, something Minghao had suggested a few days prior.

“No, no,” she chastised herself, shaking her head as she turned her attention to her laptop. “Stay focused.” 

Yet, every time she tried to immerse herself in her work, her mind would inevitably wander back to him. The way he laughed, the warmth in his gaze, even the way he playfully challenged her every now and then—there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.

On a particularly busy Friday, while sipping her coffee and reviewing a presentation, she felt her phone vibrate on the desk. A message appeared: “Hey, just thought you might want to know that your favorite pastry is waiting at the corner café. No obligations. Just a little pick-me-up to start your weekend. 😊”

Y/n's heart softened, a flutter of appreciation sweeping through her. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, trying to suppress the smile creeping onto her face. Maybe she could allow herself a moment of distraction.

She quickly glanced at the time and the empty office around her, nobody here really worked on the weekends aside from herself so she decided to take a break just this once. With a random jolt of excitement, she stood up, brushed aside her work-related thoughts, and headed to the café. She spotted him sitting comfortably at a small table, a bright smile illuminating his face. Before she could even say a word, he raised a pastry in greeting, “I didn’t know if you liked it warm or cold, so I got one of each, just to be safe!”

Her laughter bubbled out despite herself. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“But I did, you mentioned to me the other day you never have fun on the weekends anymore because you're busy working, ” Minghao countered, setting the pastries down and leaning back in his chair. “Life's too short not to indulge in the little things. Besides, you're worth it.”

His words stirred something in her, something she had kept buried under layers of practicality. A mix of anxiety and excitement danced in her chest as they shared bits of pastry and stories, laughter weaving between them effortlessly. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/n considered that perhaps life wasn’t just about hard work and career goals—it could also be about spontaneous moments and unexpected connections.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the café, Y/n let herself enjoy the moment, her defenses slowly crumbling, piece by piece. “Want to go for a drink? Unless you have plans or something?” 

“You’re asking me out? Wow, Y/n, I’m pleasantly surprised. I’d actually enjoy that. Big boss lady is paying, right?” Minghao pressed, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her lips. “Very funny. I should have known you’d want to make this about money,” she teased, her heart racing slightly at the thought of stepping into the realm of casual dating.

“I’m kidding. But you know I’d never let you cover the whole tab, right?” he replied, his voice playful yet sincere. “How about we split it? One thing I’ve learned is that relationships, friendships or otherwise, are all about balance.” 

“That sounds fair but please let me get it actually I feel a little bad about you always paying anyway. Plus, I asked you. That's how it works right?,” she agreed, her spirit lifted by his lightheartedness. “Where do you want to go?” 

“I know this cozy little bar just around the corner. They have some cool drinks and the vibes are good,” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Plus, I’ve heard they serve a mean nacho platter.”

“Nachos and drinks sound perfect. Wow- I hate that I actually got excited by a fucking macho platter, but okay.” she replied, feeling a surge of excitement and momentary embarrassment over some fucking chips with cheese. She was surprised at how nervous yet invigorated she felt. 

As they walked to the bar, the warm evening air enveloped them like a casual embrace. With every step beside him, Y/n felt the weight of her daily grind lift. “So, what’s your go-to cocktail?” she asked, surprisingly eager to keep the chatter flowing.

“I’d say I’m a classic and simple beer or wine dude, but I’m always game for something a bit off the beaten path. You?” 

“Dirty martini,” she answered, a proud smile crossing her face. “Simple but sophisticated.” 

“Ah, the big boss lady indeed. But the real question is gin or vodka?” He winked, and for a moment, she felt herself blush, something she hadn’t experienced in ages. 

“Vodka, but shut you fucking mouth and don’t tell any martini enthusiasts. Extra dry, extra dirty.” 

“Not extra wet and extra dirty?” 

Y/n nearly choked on her own spit, watching his face crinkle into a big smile before they erupted into laughter. 

They snagged a small table tucked away in a corner, perfect for engaging in their own little world. 

After placing their orders, conversations flowed as smoothly as the drinks. Minghao effortlessly switched between sharing amusing anecdotes about his life and asking Y/n about hers, genuinely interested in her career aspirations and what fueled her passions. With every laugh they exchanged and each shared story, Y/n found herself relaxing more, drawn into his effortless charm. 

“Alright, I need the truth,” Minghao said, leaning in as if about to share a juicy secret. “What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?” 

Y/n took a moment, contemplating her answer before finally admitting, “Reality TV. It’s a little bit shameful, I know, but there’s something about the drama that I can’t resist.” 

Minghao laughed heartily, the sound filling her with warmth. “No shame in that. I actually can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy watching Love Island. I’m more of a cooking show fan, to be honest. Nothing quite like watching people fail spectacularly while I sit there eating takeout as if I can cook this shit myself.”

“Okay, we’re definitely going to have a night where I introduce you to some of the best reality stars of all time, where you will sit and not fucking complain. And since I can cook, I will go hell's kitchen style on the stove. ” she declared, a playful challenge glimmering in her eyes. 

“Hey, look I’m game, but only if you let me judge your cooking like I’m the god himself Ramsay.” he exclaimed, his excitement unmistakable. “Just let me know when. I’ll bring the snacks and the commentary.”

As the evening progressed, they shared stories about childhood memories, dreams, and the quirks that made them who they were. With each revelation, Y/n felt a deeper connection forming, an understanding that perhaps taking a little time away from work wouldn’t derail her ambitions after all. 

Maybe it was time to let a little chaos in, she thought, as their conversation twisted and turned down unexpected paths, igniting sparks of joy she hadn’t anticipated, making her question everything she thought she knew about herself and about love.

Minghao got the vibe that his little plan for making Y/n fall for him could potentially end up with him feeling the same way, but not yet. He pushed that feeling deep down inside his gut, almost like he could hide it from everyone, including himself. His heart raced with excitement, but mingled with a twinge of anxiety. He didn’t want to rush things or scare her off with his burgeoning feelings. Just because she was opening up didn’t mean she was ready for more, and he wanted to tread carefully even if it was just to fuck around for a bet with his friends. 

“So, Y/n, since you’re not working tomorrow, want to come hang out at my place for a bit? Have a nightcap? Maybe watch a movie or something?” Minghao questioned, his voice casual, but the flicker of anticipation in his eyes betrayed him.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the prospect of going to his place stirring a mix of excitement and nerves within her. She knew this was a step beyond their playful banter, a leap into a territory where she would need to confront what she was feeling. But the words “why not?” danced on the tip of her tongue. 

“Sure, I’d love that,” she replied, a hint of eagerness surprising even herself. “But fair warning, if we’re watching a movie, it has to be a good one. Nothing corny please.”

“Oh come on, you seem like you’d love a good rom-com, I can tell.” Minghao laughed, and she found herself laughing along, the playful banter feeling natural and comforting.

As they bickered back and forth about their movie preferences, Y/n felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him. Maybe this was the chaos she needed in her life—this lighthearted connection that sparked something new and exhilarating.

“I know just the film to break your resistance,” Minghao declared, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “Prepare yourself for a classic, then. I think you’ll love it, it’s one of my favorites.” 

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But if it’s as terrible as I imagine, you owe me.” Y/n countered playfully, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. 

“Deal.” he shot back with a cheeky grin, and the two clinked their glasses together in agreement, the camaraderie between them solidifying.

As they finished their drinks and shared a few more laughs, Y/n couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was just the beginning—like an entrance into a world she had pushed away for too long, forever maybe.. And Minghao, with his undeniable charm and knack for fun, was animating a side of her she had almost forgotten existed.

After wrapping up the evening at the bar, they stepped back into the cool night air. The streets were softly illuminated, the stars twinkling overhead, creating an atmosphere that was very special. As they walked side by side toward Minghao's apartment, the distance felt comfortable, but somehow charged with an undercurrent of anticipation.

“Y/n,” Minghao said, breaking the gentle silence, “I know we’ve only just started hanging out, but I just want to make sure you feel okay about this. I mean, about coming over.” He glanced at her, his expression earnest. “No pressure at all—I just genuinely enjoy your company.I’m not trying to be a player or whatever you assumed I was when we first met.”

His sincerity made her heart flutter. “I’m glad you said that, but it was fuck boy and you maybe have proved yourself beyond that title. I enjoy this too, and I think it’ll be fun to hang out more and get to know you. Just…uh, promise you wont judge me too harshly if I end up hogging the blanket during the movie or talking with popcorn in my mouth or something.” 

“Fair warning accepted,” he replied, a teasing gleam in his eye. “I might have to initiate a blanket-sharing strategy, I think we can make it work.” 

They both laughed, the playful energy crackling between them as they approached his building. Maybe she could allow herself to embrace this unexpected chaos, to explore a connection without overthinking it for once. And who knows? Perhaps Minghao wouldn’t just be a passing ship but a delightful step into a new chapter of her life. 

As they stepped into his cozy apartment, Y/n tucked that thought away for later, intent on simply enjoying the moment—and the thrill of where it might lead them.

Minghao took her coat off her shoulders, hanging it on the small black hooks by his front door. Sliding his own off gently placing them side by side. Instructing her where to place her shoes and bag on the marble entry table donning photos of his friends and family. 

“Your apartment is really cute, I can tell you like living here. It has a warm feel to it.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Minghao smiled taking in a whiff of his tobacco scented room spray, and grabbing y/n’s hand to lead her into his living room, taking a brief stop at his bar cart and grabbing a bottle of wine, while handing her two glasses to carry in her empty hand. 

The aroma of the wine filled the space as he poured their glasses, the deep crimson liquid swirling beautifully.

Minghao grinned, taking a sip of his own before handing one of the glasses over to her. Their fingers brushed for a moment, sending a spark of electricity that made her smile shyly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab the remote.”

Y/n settled onto the couch, sinking into the overly plush cushions. She took a moment to look around, noting the way the soft lighting cast a warm glow over the walls adorned with art—pieces that seemed to reflect Minghao’s adventurous spirit, each one telling a story.

When he returned, remote in hand, he plopped down beside her, his warmth radiating through her as he casually leaned back, scrolling through his streaming options. “Alright, let’s see what we have here. Brace yourself for my fucking unmatched taste in cinema,” he teased, glancing at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Give me all that you got, I’m ready,” she replied with playful confidence, leaning into the moment.

With a few flicks of the remote, they settled on a classic action-comedy. The opening credits rolled as they adjusted their seats, finding a naturally comfortable closeness. The shared space between them began to feel charged with anticipation. 

As the film began, they laughed together at the antics on screen, occasionally glancing at each other, enjoying the laughter as a bridge between their hearts. Every shared chuckle seemed to layer on the connection that was forming, an unspoken understanding lacing the air around them.

“Minghao, I, uh have got to admit, this isn’t what I expected tonight,” Y/n said during a quiet moment, her eyes sparkling. “But I’m really glad it worked out and that I met you.”

“Yeah? Really? Me too,” he replied, his gaze softening as he turned to her. “I’ve wanted to hang out like this for a while. I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same, but I’m glad we did. I’m glad I forced you to give me your phone number that day.” 

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his honesty. She had been guarded for so long, and here was Minghao, effortlessly peeling away at her layers with every shared moment.

As the movie progressed, he reached for the popcorn bowl perched on the coffee table, offering it to her. Their fingers brushed again, igniting an electric thrill that danced between them. The film faded into the background as Y/n found herself getting lost in the depths of his gaze.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” she began, leaning in slightly, “your blanket-sharing strategy may be your ultimate plan to seduce me. I see you.”

Minghao chuckled, taking her playful jab in stride. “Guilty as charged. What can I say? Who could resist a cozy blanket and beautiful company?” He pulled the soft throw from behind the couch, draping it over their laps.

As he settled back beside her, their shoulders nudged together under the blanket, his hand wrapped around her thigh and Y/n felt her heart race. There was an undeniable chemistry in the air, palpable like the fragrance of the wine swirling around them. 

Without thinking too much about it, she rested her head on his shoulder, throwing her hair back to reveal her neck—not as a move, just a way to make herself more comfortable. As she leaned in, she caught the subtle scent of Minghao’s cologne, warm and inviting, and felt the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder beneath her cheek. It was a small gesture, yet it felt so natural, almost like an instinctive draw to his warmth.

Minghao looked down at her with a side eye, surprised at how effortlessly they had crossed this invisible line. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin looked under the low light and the way her eyes widened with joy as she laughed at the antics on the screen. Her laughter was contagious, reverberating through him and making his heart race a little faster, a little louder in the calm of the room.

Suddenly, Minghao felt an unfamiliar pang of anxiety creep into his chest. The bet had seemed innocent—a way to explore the chemistry simmering between them—but now it felt like a threaded line tugging at him in different directions. Maybe the bet was a bad idea after all, because now he felt himself falling for someone without knowing what could come next, just like that. It was as if he had opened a door to an inevitable chaos while still trying to remain in control.

Yet every time she shifted slightly against him, every laugh that slipped from her lips, deepened the connection he felt. He had initially thought he’d be the one charming her, the one doing the chasing, but here they were, and Y/n’s mere presence had knocked him off his feet. It startled him, this flicker of vulnerability—that maybe he wasn’t just playing a game; he was investing real emotions.

“You okay?” Y/n murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, her brow slightly furrowed as she noticed the contemplative look on his face.

He quickly masked his thoughts with an easygoing smile. “Yeah, just caught up in the movie,” he replied, trying to divert her attention. “The action scenes are really intense, right?”

Though she seemed to accept his diversion with a playful nod, he could see the hint of curiosity lingering in her eyes, a flash that told him she sensed something in the air between them. A moment of silence stretched between them like a tightly pulled string, neither of them willing to break it. Instead, they allowed the movie to fill the space, as he leaned down and planted a soft kiss against her lips. Something subtle and quick that was just perfect for the moment and wouldn’t derail the nice night they were sharing, he wasn’t ready for that yet. 

As the film progressed, Y/n shifted again, curling her body towards him slightly as a particularly funny scene played out, her laughter bubbling forth. It was that unfiltered joy he found intoxicating—a refreshing reminder that life could be this light, this fun, and maybe even a little crazy.

Day 4 - The Competition

During a group outing with friends, Minghao decided to reveal the second phase of his plan: he started being annoyingly competitive. “Let’s have a game night.” he declared, his voice ringing with enthusiasm as he rallied everyone around him. "I challenge you all to a series of ridiculous contests, from karaoke battles to board games. Losers buy the drinks." There was a mixture of excitement and groans from the group, but Minghao was unfazed. He thrived in this atmosphere, eager to galvanize Y/n into joining him in the chaos.

Y/n, who he knew hated losing, found herself reluctantly swept up in the energy of the night. A glimmer of excitement sparked in her eyes, even as she partnered with Minghao, who pretended to be completely uninterested in the competition. She could see the mischievous glint behind his facade, his playfulness luring her in.

As they tackled their first karaoke challenge, Minghao grabbed the microphone. He belted out an off-key rendition of her favorite song, doing little to hide his comedic flair. “You're fucking terrible at this.” Y/n teased him, trying to contain the laughter that bubbled up at the sight of his unfiltered enthusiasm.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get you to help me improve,” Minghao shot back, his smile never wavering. He pointed the microphone at her cheekily, inviting her to join in. The playful energy between them was palpable, the laughter of their friends helped her gain confidence.

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t quell the smile creeping onto her lips. “You know I fucking suck at singing, right?” she joked, hopping up on stage beside him. In a moment of spontaneity, she grabbed the microphone and took the lead, pouring her heart into the next part of the song, using her off-key notes as a comedic backdrop. Her confidence radiated, and soon the others joined in, clapping and singing along.

The laughter and energy of the room felt electric, and for a moment, the competition melted away, leaving only joy. The night continued with a series of board games and ridiculous challenges, each one causing Minghao to lean in closer to Y/n as they plotted ways to win. 

 “What’s your game plan?” he whispered to her, though the intensity of his smile hinted he was thoroughly enjoying the game itself more than he let on. The way his eyes sparkled made her heart race a little, stirring a thrill she hadn’t anticipated and in that moment all she wanted to do was wipe the smirk off his face with her lips.

“Honestly? I think our only plan is to distract the other teams with our charm,” Y/n replied, gesturing theatrically. “We’re clearly the most entertaining, so I kind of like it. It's a sweep.”

Minghao laughed, and the sound resonated in her chest. “Perfect strategy.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers as they whispered strategies into the fray of friendly competition raging around them.

As the night wore on, the playful banter and friendly sabotage culminated in a final showdown—an impromptu trivia contest that had everyone shouting questions at one another. “This one’s a gimme. Come on.” Minghao said, grinning ear to ear as he looked at Y/n. “I’ll let you take this one.”

She raised an eyebrow, half-surprised by his sudden willingness to let her answer. “Uh-huh, so this is your secret strategy—make me do all the work?” she said, nudging him playfully.

“Only the smart person's work,” Minghao shot back, laughter dancing in his voice as he leaned into her side. “And besides, I can’t afford another karaoke performance like that—I’m salvaging my reputation here.”

She smirked, appreciating the electric vibe still lingering in the air. “Fine, but you better promise to make up for it after this.”

Their competitive banter continued as the final questions rolled in. Y/n felt surprisingly exhilarated, and she realized that within the madness of the game night—amidst the silly antics and the thrill of competition—something deeper was taking root in her heart. Minghao, in all his competitive glory, was not just a friend; he was somebody who brought out a side in her she hadn’t even known existed.

Day 5 - The Realization

As time progressed, y/n found herself letting her guard down, enjoying Minghao’s company more than she intended. They shared late-night conversations, honest stories of their pasts, and hilarious anecdotes that made her laugh until she cried. But just as quickly as those feelings bloomed, fear crept in. Could she afford to get attached?

Both of them shied away from being honest with their feelings as a matter of protection from their pain in the past. 

Minghao especially realized how complicated the situation was. Could he really move forward with her without telling her the truth of why he asked her out in the first place? However, if he tells her the truth, he could lose her altogether. Each day that he hesitated felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, an unspoken tension hanging between them like the heavy clouds before a storm.

He recalled the tender moments they shared—the laughter, the stolen glances, the way her smile lit him up even when he felt like the weight of the world was on him. But lurking beneath those cherished memories was a foundation built on secrets and half-truths. He grappled with the fear that if he revealed the underlying reason for his affection, she might see him as just another guy in her life trying to throw her off her path, rather than someone who genuinely cared.

The truth was like a double-edged sword; it could liberate him or shatter the fragile bond they had formed. In those quiet moments, he could feel his heart wrestling with his mind—one part needing authenticity, while another begged for the safety of keeping his own secret. Was there a path that could lead them both to what they wanted rather than hurting them both?

He knew that eventually, he would have to choose a direction, but every path was filled with uncertainty. Perhaps, for now, he would focus on the little things—the warmth of her hand in his, the gentle way they navigated tough conversations. Yet, deep inside, he wondered how long they could remain strangers to their own truths. The clock was ticking, and each moment felt like an opportunity slipping away. 

Day 6 - The Plan Backfires

In an effort to push Y/n away to avoid hurting her, Minghao started purposely sending mixed signals. He ignored her texts, acted uninterested in their plans, and even pretended to be busy whenever she attempted to schedule time together. But to his surprise, Y/n didn’t waver. She matched his energy with playful banter and unwavering support, showing up outside his office with his favorite coffee just when he needed it—the same way he had done for her.

Each time she appeared, a smile lighting up her face, it reminded him of how deeply she understood him, and he knew his plan was backfiring. She took his teasing in stride, firing back with witty comebacks that reminded him of the vibrant connection they shared. He felt the walls he was trying to build between them start to crumble, intrigued and frustrated by the strength of her positive attitude. 

Why was he pushing her away when all she seemed to want was him? He could see the concern behind her laughter, the way her brow furrowed slightly when she caught him lost in thought, and it tore at his heart. Was this really the right way to protect her, or was he simply running from something that could be good for both of them?

On one particularly tough day, as he stared out the window, he caught a glimpse of her leaning against the wall, coffee in hand, waiting for him to take a moment to breathe. The sunlight caught her hair, giving her a glow that made her look like an angel in real life, and his chest tightened. She wasn't the kind of person to give up easily, and maybe that’s something he was drawn to. 

Instead of the irritation he anticipated feeling, Minghao began to appreciate her staying power. In that moment, he felt both grateful and terrified—grateful that she cared enough to stick around, and terrified that the longer he held back, the more he risked losing a part of himself he had forgotten even existed.

With each passing day, the facade he’d constructed started to feel less like protection and more like a prison. He saw how much she believed in him, not just as a friend, but as someone capable of finding happiness again. But as the walls crumbled beneath her unwavering kindness, he grappled with the realization that if he didn’t confront the truth soon, he might not just push her away, he might just lose her. Minghao knew he would have to decide soon to continue the charade or to find the courage to let her in. 

Day 7 - The Confession

One night, while they were taking a walk, the air was heavy with tension, and Minghao couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you keep coming back? I’m clearly trying to push you away,” he blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush, tinged with frustration and desperation.

Y/n stopped, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious for once. “Because, Minghao, I see something in you. I didn’t set out to fall for you, but I can’t help it. You starting to pull away is confusing me. What changed overnight that you can barely even look at me anymore?” Her tone was both challenging and vulnerable, a blend that cut through the discomfort hanging between them.

“It’s because—” Minghao swallowed hard, his heart racing as he looked into her eyes, feeling the weight of the truth pressing against his chest. He focused on her furrowed expression, “This was a bet, and I—”

“A bet?” Y/n’s voice rose, sharp almost like a knife diving into his chest. The surprised look on her face shifted rapidly from confusion to hurt, and it churned something deep within him. He was struck again by the disbelief in her eyes.

The silence between them was thick and suffocating. Minghao took a breath, searching for the right words, but they were lost on him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” he pressed on, his voice softer now. “We started out as a joke—something to distract myself. It was my friend's idea that I foolishly agreed to. And then… then you became real to me.” He paused, trying to convey the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.

Y/n crossed her arms, visibly hurt, but her gaze didn't waver. “You mean to tell me that all this time, all those moments we had—that they were just part of some fucking game with your buddies?” Her voice trembled slightly.

“No. It may have started that way, but it turned into something much deeper,” he pleaded, desperate to convey his truth. “I didn’t plan to fall for you. I didn’t plan on feeling this way at all. But once I did, I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought pushing you away would protect you from the truth.”

Y/n shook her head, her expression a blend of frustration and heartbreak. “You think pushing me away protects me? Minghao, it only pushes me into uncertainty. If you had just told me from the start, I could have chosen to stay or walk away. But now, you’ve  just made everything ten times fucking worse.” 

Feeling increasingly guilty he stepped closer, trying to bridge the distance he had created. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should have been honest with you. I never wanted to hurt you. The fear of losing you, it…” he trailed off, unsure how to articulate his feelings.

Y/n took a deep breath, her demeanor softening just a fraction. “You need to make a choice, Minghao. Either let me in, all the way, or please let me go. I.. uh, can’t handle this right now. I’ll try to give you a call in a few days or maybe see you around.”

The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, and Minghao realized that it was time to confront not only the truth of their beginning but also the reality of what was blossoming between them. He had been running from the idea of vulnerability for so long, but now faced with Y/n’s determination, he found just enough strength within himself to start breaking down the walls he had built. As he watched her walk away from him not turning back around like he wished she would have, for once, Minghao felt the stirrings of hope amidst his fear.

Day 8 - A Challenge

With Minghao’s words hanging in the air, Y/n found herself re-evaluating her feelings. She had initially wanted to leave him there on the street as a part of her past, but the connection they shared was stronger than she had anticipated. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want it to end after all, but she wasn’t willing to let him get away with tricking her so easily.

She decided on her own plan—something to throw him off his game truly in her own style just to get back at him, but only all in good fun. It was time to show Minghao that she wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

Y/n had gotten in contact with one of Minghao's friends, a guy named Jisoo whom she had met during their karaoke competition. After a quick chat filled with enthusiasm and laughter, she proposed the idea of entering a “Battle of the Bands”-style karaoke show hosted by her workplace for charity. Jisoo was immediately on board and even rallied a few more of their friends to join in. But Y/n made one thing clear: they absolutely couldn’t let Minghao in on the secret. This was her chance to catch him off guard.

In the following weeks, his friends practiced relentlessly. Y/n wasn't just aiming to win at work; she wanted to create an unforgettable evening, one that would leave Minghao in pure shock. They practiced their songs, and even designed matching outfits for the event—a whimsically themed performance that would be impossible to forget.

Finally, the night of the charity show arrived. The venue was filled with colorful lights and the buzz of excitement as coworkers and friends gathered, taking their seats for what promised to be a lively night. Y/n donned a not necessarily work appropriate dress that reflected the playful spirit of her prank and maybe to catch someone's eyes.  She could already see Minghao mingling with some of his friends, his laughter filling the air, and she felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation flutter in her stomach.

As the show kicked off, the energy in the room was contagious. The first few acts were entertaining, but Y/n could barely focus. She was waiting for her moment to take the stage and introduce Minghao and the others who were waiting to humiliate their friend gathered backstage, the excitement was palpable. They could hear Minghao in the crowd, cheering loudly for the groups, and Y/n smiled to herself, knowing what was coming next.

When it was their turn to perform, Y/n’s heart raced. She walked onto the stage, focusing on the bright lights and the sea of faces staring back at her. She could spot Minghao in the crowd before she introduced him, watching his slightly puzzled but amused look on his face as he recognized members of his circle.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Y/n shouted into the microphone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, clinking their glasses and waving them in the air as the spotlight warmed her skin. 

“I have a special surprise for you all this evening!” The anticipation in the room built up in waves as she paused for effect. “You won’t believe what I’ve been up to. If you haven’t already heard, I recently met someone!” 

The crowd roared in excitement, whoops and claps echoing around the venue. 

“Shocking, right? You might have seen him around the office. Can we get a spotlight on him?” 

The beam of light swept through the crowd until it landed on Minghao, who looked around, momentarily startled. 

“Everyone, meet Minghao!” Y/n continued, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We actually met at the coffee shop below the office. I was drowning in my mid-week project when he approached my table and asked me out on a date. I’ll admit, I was pretty hesitant at first. But he worked his charm on me.” 

She smiled warmly, letting reminiscence wash over her. “We ended up going out a few times after that, but just a few nights ago, he let me in on a little secret—it was all a bet set up by these guys right here!” 

Y/n dramatically pointed behind her at a group of men clad in glittery outfits, their faces a mix of embarrassment and amusement as they realized they’d been called out. Laughter erupted once again, and Minghao could only shake his head, a smirk on his lips as the crowd carried on, fully entertained by the unfolding story.

The laughter from the crowd soared, and Y/n could see Minghao’s face shifting from amusement to slight embarrassment when a man behind him yelled up to the stage. “A bet? Seriously?” he called out.

“Yes. You heard that right.” Y/n responded, leaning into the microphone as she theatrically rolled her eyes, embracing the absurdity of it all. “Turns out, my romantic escapades were all part of some grand scheme these guys made up.” 

The men behind her chuckled sheepishly, with one of them, a tall guy with a dazzling smile, shouting playfully, “In our defense, we thought it was a great idea. Including Minghao.”

“Oh, it definitely was,” Y/n replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the great dates,you guys. I had no idea I was part of a reality show, I watch them enough you’d think I’d catch on.” She paused for comedic effect, letting the laughter settle before leaning closer to the audience, her tone more serious. “You know, honestly, Minghao surprised me in ways I never expected.”

She glanced over at Minghao, whose cheeks were slightly flushed under the spotlight but wore a sincere smile. “I was a bit hesitant at first, sure. But then we really connected. And who would have guessed that the guy who interrupted my focused day with a charming smile would become someone so special?”

Cheers erupted from the crowd again, and Y/n took a deep breath, enticing them with what was coming next. 

“And, since we’re being honest here,” she continued, teasingly leaning into her role as the narrator of this unfolding tale, “I feel like we need to make Minghao work just a little for his redemption. No?” The audience murmured in excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve arranged a little surprise for him tonight,” Y/n said, gesturing to the side of the stage. “Minghao, my friend, you've got just one more challenge ahead of you.”

Out of nowhere, a karaoke microphone was handed to Minghao from his left side and the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter again. Minghao held it awkwardly, glancing at Y/n with a mix of uncertainty and delight. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, genuinely confused but slightly intrigued. 

“You’re going to sing! Duh. Don’t be dumb,” Y/n declared, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “The audience deserves to see what they’re in for. Plus, it’s only fair after that little trick you pulled. You’re going to serenade us all.” 

Minghao let out a laugh, his initial shock transforming into acceptance. The crowd erupted once again, chanting, “Minghao! Minghao!” 

Feeling the energy in the room, Minghao stepped forward, climbing up the stairs with a new light in his eyes. “Alright then, I guess I have no choice but to give the audience what they want!” He took a deep breath and gazed at Y/n one last time before launching into a fun, upbeat song that brought everyone to their feet.

As he sang, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a rush of  affection. Despite the insane circumstances that brought them together, there was something genuine unfolding between them, amplified by the shared laughter and excitement of the evening. 

With each note, Minghao seemed to shed any lingering nerves, pouring his heart out into the music. The audience was enthralled, dancing and singing along, swept up in the joy of the moment. Y/n found herself cheering louder than anyone else, her laughter mingling with his infectious energy.

And maybe, just maybe, she thought as she watched him shine on stage, this night was the perfect reminder that sometimes the best stories come from the unexpected. It wasn’t just about the twists and turns of their initial meeting; it was about the connections forged when they embraced things together. As Minghao finished with a flourish, the crowd erupted into applause, and Y/n couldn't help but wonder how many more surprises awaited them on this journey.

Day 9 - A Change of Heart

Determined to make a last-ditch effort to win her back, Minghao doubled down on his resolve. He sent her a series of texts brimming with encouragement, recounting the fun they’d had the night before. “I never imagined I’d be up on stage like that, but it was totally worth it,” he wrote, his fingers flying across the screen. “You have this incredible way of bringing out the best and most ridiculous in people. I genuinely had a good time, especially seeing those fuckers in glitter pants.” 

He poured his heart into his messages, sharing how her laughter had ignited a spark within him, and how getting to know her was quickly becoming the highlight of his life. “You made me feel brave, even while I was totally making a fool of myself,” he typed with a grin, imagining her laughter echoing in his ears. “And honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing about it. You’re amazing, Y/n.”

As the hours passed without a response, doubts started to creep into his mind. Had he gone too far with the whole bet thing? Would she take his lighthearted texts as desperation? But he couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing there was something real between them.. So, he gathered his courage and decided to call. 

When Y/n picked up the phone, her voice sounded bright but cautious. “Hey, Minghao. What’s up?”

“Y/n, Hi I don’t know if you saw my texts, you’re probably busy, but I just wanted to check in after last night,” he replied, his heart racing. “I hope you’re still not too mad at me for the bet thing. I promise I didn’t mean for it to be a setup. I actually really enjoyed being with you."

There was a momentary silence, and he held his breath, waiting for her response. “I’m not mad,” she finally said, her tone softening. “I thought it was an interesting twist, honestly. You had me laughing for hours after I got over it a little bit and after talking to your friends. But I just… didn’t want to feel like I was part of some game.”

“I totally understand,” he said quickly, wanting to assure her. “I’m really sorry for how it started. But I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. I liked who I was with you last night and every night really , and I want to get to know you better—like, for real, not as a bet.” 

Y/n paused again, and he could almost hear her contemplating his words. “You mean that?” 

“Absolutely,” Minghao responded, feeling more confident. “I know we started under unusual circumstances, but every moment I’ve spent with you has felt real. You bring out a side of me I didn’t really know I had, and I really love who I am when I’m with you. So, what do you say? Can we start over?” 

He could hear her take a deep breath from the other end, and his heart raced in anticipation. “Okay, let’s do that,” she finally said, her voice brightening. “But let’s be clear the only bets this time will be on actual games, not people's feelings”

Minghao laughed, relief washing over him. “Deal. Just me trying to impress you from now on.” 

“You already have, that was your promise from the start and you followed through.”

As they chatted and made plans for their next outing—a casual coffee date, just like they first met no strings attached—Minghao felt a renewed sense of hope. He was determined to show her that he was sincere, that the bet was just a silly beginning to what he hoped would be a beautiful journey together.

After they hung up, Minghao couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t just about winning her back; it was about starting anew, embracing the possibility of a real thing. And as excitement bubbled in his chest, he began to plan how he could make their next date unforgettable. After all, if Y/n could turn a wild bet into a night filled with laughter, he was ready to dive in and see where this newfound adventure would take them both.

Day 10 - The Second First Date.

As the days crept closer to their date, Minghao found himself overrun with excitement and nerves. He wanted everything to be perfect. Standing in front of his closet, he debated over his wardrobe, tossing shirts onto the bed haphazardly. He could feel the pressure mounting the stakes felt higher this time—not just because he was going to see Y/n again, but because he wanted her to see him as more than just that guy than a guy who bet on her feelings.

Eventually, he settled on a casual but stylish outfit, one that he felt confident in. Being genuine was the goal, after all, and he didn’t want to put on a facade. Just before he headed out the door, he glanced in the mirror, giving himself a final pep talk. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

At the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the chatter of customers. Minghao arrived early, pacing a bit with anticipation. He chose the same cozy corner table her first noticed her at, where they’d have some privacy but still be part of the lively atmosphere. 

When Y/n walked in, his heart skipped a beat. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair cascading over her shoulders and a warm smile lighting up her face. She spotted him, her eyes sparkling with familiarity, and his nervousness began to fade away as she approached.

“Hi, nice to meet you, you’re Minghao right?” she greeted, her voice filled with warmth.

“Hey, yeah. I’m glad you made it,” Minghao replied, standing to greet her. They exchanged a brief hug, and it felt surprisingly comfortable.

As they settled into their seats with steaming cups of coffee in hand, the conversation flowed naturally, as if they’d never left off. They chatted about everything their favorite shows, upcoming plans, and the ridiculous things they’d seen online lately. Laughter punctuated their discussion, the kind that made the world around them feel distant.

At one point, Y/n playfully leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, tell me—what’s your strategy for impressing me today? More dance moves? Karaoke?”

Minghao laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Let’s save the dancing for another time. I’m still trying to recover from the last performance,” he said with a smirk. “But I promise I have a few tricks up my sleeve—nothing too embarrassing.”

“Just promise me no more betting, I’m out of chips for now.” she said, stern but unable to hide her smile.

“Cross my heart,” he promised dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “From here on out, it’s just me and you having honest and genuine fun.”

Their coffees had transformed into connection, a beautiful blend of camaraderie and flirtation. As they moved towards dessert, Minghao felt a spark growing between them. 

With a playful glint in his eye, he decided to take a leap. “So, if we’re doing this—like, seeing where it goes, how about I take you on a mini-adventure next time? Something a little less…traditional?” 

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “And what exactly does that entail? You are not talking about hiking, or something like that right? I would kill you.” 

“A  little scavenger hunt around the city?” he suggested, warming to the idea. “We could visit all the spots we love, and maybe even some new places. Get ice cream, take pictures, and just enjoy the day.”

Her face lit up with enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing. I love it.”

Seeing her excitement filled him with joy; this felt right. With their coffee date unfolding so smoothly, he was beginning to understand that this was not just about rekindling a spark but about building something new. 

As they wrapped up, Minghao walked her to her car, and the atmosphere felt electric. Before saying goodbye, he couldn’t resist leaning in slightly. “If I promise to make each outing better than the last, will you promise to keep coming back?”

Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I think I can manage that, if you also kiss me” she replied, her smile brightening the evening.

With a renewed sense of hope, Minghao pulled her in from her waist kissing her multiple times before backing up slightly and letting her get into the driver's seat, she rolled down the window and wagged her finger at him for one more kiss, and then he  watched her drive away, heart brimming with anticipation. He was ready to dive into this adventure, ready to explore whatever lay ahead with Y/n by his side. Their story was only just beginning, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like everything was falling into place. 

Epilogue

The days that followed were an exciting blur of planning and anticipation. Minghao found himself digging into his old notebooks, jotting down ideas for the scavenger hunt, trying to think of all the little things that made their city special. He wanted to weave in personal touches that would make the day unforgettable for Y/n—places that could bring back memories of their first date or spots he knew would make her full of  joy when he revealed them.

With each idea, he found he was not just planning an outing but also crafting an experience centered around her, and this realization filled him with a sense of purpose. He’d always believed that little moments could mean everything, and now he was eager to show Y/n just how much he cherished their new relationship.

When the day of the scavenger hunt arrived, Minghao woke up with a mix of nerves and excitement. He’d set everything in motion, and now all he needed to do was let the day unfold naturally. He picked a comfortable outfit—something relaxed but still appealing—and made his way to the meeting spot they had agreed on: a park that was alive with the sounds of laughter, children playing, and the distant strumming of a guitarist.

As he waited, he felt a buzz of anticipation in the air around him. The moment he spotted Y/n walking towards him, his heart soared. She looked radiant, her hair dancing in the breeze, and her smile lit up the entire park. 

“Hey, you.” she greeted, a lilt in her voice that made him grin wider.

“Ready for a little adventure?” he asked, trying to mask the excitement bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

“Absolutely. Just tell me what we’re doing,” she replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“First off, we have to get our scavenger hunt gear,” he said, pulling out a small tote bag he had packed. Inside were colored pencils,a camera for taking photos at each stop, a notebook for jotting down clues, and a list of locations they'd be visiting.

“What’s all this?” she laughed, peering inside with delight.

“Just some supplies to help us document our adventure” Minghao said cheerily. “The first stop is that little coffee stand we found last week, where they have the pastries.”

With a shared laugh and playful banter, they made their way through the park, stopping for pictures at every significant spot—an old oak tree where they took selfies, a fountain that they threw pennies in while making a wish, and a mural that had caught Minghao’s eye during their last outing. The connection between them deepened as they shared stories, memories, and more feelings than ever. As they reached the coffee stand, Minghao took a moment to watch her as she chose her pastry. She had a way of illuminating the boring everyday things, and he felt grateful every time she shot him a smile. After they got their treats, he pulled out the next clue.

“Okay, next up,” he said with excitement, glancing down at the list he had created. “We have to find the spot where they sell the best ice cream in town. But there’s a catch—you have to lead the way.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Me? Alright.. This should be interesting.”

With her leading the way, they began to navigate the streets, stopping to chat with street performers and peeking into quirky shops. As they reached the ice cream parlor, the enticing scent of waffle cones met them, and they quickly placed their orders. 

“That is definitely a win,” Minghao said, savoring the first bite of his matcha chocolate chip. He looked over to see Y/n’s eyes light up with delight as she tasted her basic but cute vanilla with sprinkles.

As they sat outside, sharing stories about their favorite childhood flavors, Minghao felt a warmth spreading in his chest. Each moment they shared layered on a sense of intimacy, deepening their bond.

The rest of the day continued in this delightful fashion, each stop on the scavenger hunt bringing them closer together, transforming their connection into something rooted in genuine affection. The final clue led them to an overlook, a perfect sunset view of the city sprawled out before them.

As they stood side by side, overlooking the vibrant hues of orange and pink washed across the sky, Minghao turned to her, feeling the weight of the moment. 

“I’m really glad I took this leap,” he said, his voice sincere. “Today has been incredible. You make everything better, including me.”

Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I feel the same way. This day has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time. Really, thank you.”

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, he could feel the pull toward her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle yet tender kiss. It was a clear promise of what was to come—not just in this moment, but in all the moments yet to unfold.

Standing there, as the last light of day faded into twilight, Minghao felt a newfound certainty settle within him. This was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure with Y/n, and he was ready to explore every twist and turn that life had to offer together.

Minghao had set out to lose a girl in ten days but instead found something he never expected: a genuine connection. As he and y/n embarked on their new adventure as one and they both realized that sometimes love sneaks up on you when you least expect it, and sometimes, the risks of opening your heart are worth every moment.

[wendichester]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. nonsense research,

summary. you're bored of research and sammy must keep you entertained!

pairing. sam winchester x reader genre.frisky flfluff

wordcount. 353

The motel room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamp casting golden hues over the messy table scattered with lore books and Sam’s laptop. He’s hunched over, fingers typing away, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely not working. You stretch lazily across the bed, flipping through an old book without actually reading a single word. Instead, your eyes keep drifting back to him—his broad shoulders, the way his hair falls over his forehead, the way his jaw tenses when he’s deep in thought.

It’s unfair, really, how good he looks doing something as mundane as research.

You toss the book aside, rolling onto your stomach. “Sammy,” you sing-song.

He hums distractedly, not looking up.

You crawl off the bed and slip behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Take a break,” you murmur, hands smoothing over his biceps. “I’m getting lonely over here.”

“Mmhm,” he mutters, still focused on his screen.

You pout. Well, if he wants to play that game…

Sliding your hands down, you press your fingers into the tense muscles of his back, kneading gently. His posture stiffens for half a second before he exhales, melting into your touch.

“Oh,” he breathes, tilting his head slightly. “That’s—”

“Nice?” you supply, grinning.

He chuckles. “Yeah.”

You press a kiss to the side of his neck, just below his ear. “Then stop working and let me do something nice for you.”

Sam’s fingers pause on the keyboard, and you don’t miss the way his breath hitches. “You’re really not gonna let me finish this, are you?”

“Nope.” You nip playfully at his earlobe, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt, nails dragging lightly across his skin. He shivers. Gotcha.

With a groan, he finally turns to face you, that slow, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re a menace.”

You beam. “But you love me.”

He exhales a laugh, shaking his head before gripping your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “Yeah,” he murmurs, hands sliding up your back, fingers teasing against your spine. “I really do.”

And research is completely forgotten.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

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[withlovemark]

“keep quiet”

[requested 1, 2]

warnings: smut! fingering, quiet sex(?)

-> important note: the xo kitty characters have all been aged up to legal age! i refuse to write smut about minors, even if they are fictional.

-

“shhh baby, keep quiet,” minho! swallows your moans, lips entangled in yours, “you don’t want them to hear you, do you?,” he teases — the group was just outside his bedroom door studying for the upcoming exams.

minho, bored of the lessons, wanted to have some fun, “we’re gonna take a nap, i’m too tired for this shit,” he complains, dragging you in his bedroom before you could protest.

now you’re under him, his fingers going in and out of your pussy as you try to control the noises you were making. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in the way that has you biting your lips, toes curling, “mmm-ahh,” you moan breathily, trying to be as quiet as you can.

“shhh,” he reminds you, his fingers quickening its pace on your cunt, curling it exactly the way that hits the spot.

“gonna come,” you whisper, orgasm making you shake, eyes rolling back, shaky breath coming from your lips as you try to stabilize your breathing.

minho admires you’re fucked out state, zipping down his pants and freeing his hard pink cock, he pumps himself a couple of times, keeping his groans quiet, “you think you can keep being a good girl and be quiet for this one,” he says teasingly, slapping his cock against your pussy, making you twitch. you nod furiously, just wanting to feel him inside you.

he slides in between your folds, collecting your juices, then lining up with your core, he slowly enters you. you squeeze his shoulder at the intrusion, and minho had to bury his head in yours to muffle his groans.

once he was fully situated, you pull him towards you, lips coming in contact again as he slowly rocked in and out of you, breathing heavily against each other's lips.

lifting one of your legs up to your shoulder, he quickens the pace hitting you in a way that got you rolling your eyes back, your second orgasm coming to fruition, “ahhh-,” you cry, his free hand immediately covering your mouth, muffling your sounds, hot breath hitting his palm.

your fingers make their way to his back, holding on for support, nails scratching, eliciting a groan from him. the feeling of your nails making him hiss in pain, “oh fuck, love,” he groans, no longer caring about the ears outside.

“say my name,” he orders, removing his hands off your lips.

the creaking of the bed getting louder and louder, heavy breathing gradually rising, being quiet long forgotten as whines of his names exited your lips, like a mantra, “fuck! minho, minho, minho-,” you whine, encouraging him to go faster.

his hand rubs harsh circles on your clit, halting your whines as you moan loudly, orgasm taking over you, pussy clenching tightly around his cock, pushing minho to his own release.

“oh my god-,” he grunts just as his release came over him, quickly pulling out of your pussy, his cum messily pouring out of him.

—

meanwhile on the other side of the door, the group looks awkwardly around the room, the squeaking of the bed and your shared moans hitting their ears.

“uhm, maybe we should move to our dorm?” kitty suggested.

“yeah, good idea,” q exclaims as everyone rushed to pack their staff, hurriedly leaving the boys’ dorm.

[samkerrworshipper]

the lawn is dead. pt.2

hi! i wrote a part 2! i’m on a unofficial hiatus but had some inspiration the last few days and had to finish this. hope it provides a little bit more comfort then the last chapter .. sorry xo

warnings: suicidal themes, self harm themes, themes of depression, anxiety, dark thoughts. viewer discretion advised.

You can describe the carpet of this office better then most people can describe themselves.

It’s a rug, for the most part, except for the where it’s clear a person has chosen laziness in favour of lifting up the heavier furniture to place the rug down underneath it. Where the rug doesn’t cover, there is bleak grey carpet that feels more boring then the time you spend in this room.

Where the carpet lacks in literally everything, the rug makes up for it blindingly.

It’s a messy mixture of far too many colours, pinks, purples, blues, greens and neutrals. It doesn’t make any sense in your mind, why somebody would chose for the focal point of their room to be a rug that doesn’t match with any of the furniture. It’s another sign that the furniture came before the rug, all of the furniture is dark mahogany, beautiful pieces that look as if they’ve come from and English period piece, whereas the rug looks so modern it’s almost painful.

The rest of the furniture has been picked with similar taste.

The painting on the wall looks like what a child would vomit after going to a birthday party. Every time you’ve come here you’ve had a new analogy, but this week that is the one, it looks like stomach contents and you can’t get past it, to the point it’s made you physically nauseated.

From the painting moves onto the bookshelf, where there is a odd mix of medical textbooks, classics and selfawareness books, all stacked in such disarray that you have to keep your eyes away because it makes you uncomfortable.

Beyond the furniture is your psychologist, with her stupid fucking note pad, stupid glasses perched on the very tip of her nose and stupidly calm face that never really changed.

She was supposed to be a specialist, the best of the best, supposed to be the greatest and getting to the bottom of the most famous athletes problems and yet you found pride in alluding her.

One hour, every four days was what you were down to now, a couple of weeks ago it had been every other day and that had been fucking torture.

Sometimes all you wanted to do was rip her eyeballs out, or her brains, or something else. You swore she made your ears bleed and your will to live deteriorate with every second and it was already pretty low.

“You can’t avoid my question forever.”

It was also that annoying tone that sent you, the sort of tone that meant she knew that technically for the whole of the hour she could ask you whatever she pleased and you were technically supposed to answer her. Defiance on your end just ended up in you being suspended from something else that made your life just a tiny bit more liveable.

“No, I haven’t talked to Mapi yet.”

You’ve been avoiding it, there have bits and pieces of homework from your therapist, but this one is by far the hardest.

“How about Alexia, how does she feel about that.”

You don’t want to tell her that you and Alexia are in shambles as it is, add on the pressure of her best friend being psychologically destroyed because of you and just talking about any of it at all and it’s like dynamite.

“Supportive.”

Your therapist nods, but in the way that you know she doesn’t quite believe you.

“Have you started to reintegrate with the team? I know last time we talked you mentioned that before the incident you’d been feeling quite isolated because of your ankle injury. It’s important that you start to normalise your life again before you start to self isolate.”

You don’t call it self-isolation, you like to call it self protection. You protect yourself by pushing against the grain, by keeping to yourself. It’s a lot easier that way.

“I’ve been busy.”

It’s a lie and a blatant one, your days are filled with complete nothingness. You can’t play football, not until she clears you, and you know that it’s not going to happen anytime soon based on the trend of your current sessions. There has been the same amount of progress as there was two weeks ago when you started with her. You shut down at every attempt she makes to try and open you up, you talk when you have to. It’ll probably get you sent back to a ward. You don’t remember much from your transition from the hospital to home, but you do remember signing something that referred to you making significant process or else you would be sent back.

Progress for your therapist is getting more then two word responses from you. You’re aware she’s in kahoots with Alexia, that Alexia is probably providing her more information then you are.

“You’re giving me the look that means that you’re writing something down along the lines of ‘unncooperative’.”

She is also in kahoots with the staff at Barcelona, another thing you signed was that she would work in conjunction with the clubs doctors to get you back to where you were, or somewhere in the vicinity.

They know every time you have a bad session, you’re guaranteed a consolation call from one of the coaches or even sometimes a teammate check-in telling you how brave you are and how strong you are for doing this.

You don’t agree, you nearly took the cowards way out and you’re proud of it. You wish it had fucking worked, every single second, of every single day, you wish you’d succeeded, wished that this hadn’t all ended up how it did.

“That’s not what I wrote, I wrote a observation. Uncooperative would be you refusing to speak to me like you did for our first two sessions, even if you lie it’s still trying.”

You don’t want to be curious of her, you’ve tried to give her as little attention as possible.

You’ve adapted the act that you call, therapised you.

You do your best job of smiling here and there, or at least when you know that you’re supposed to. Therapised you extends to a few people, Alexia, coaches, physios, people on the street.

You believe you’ve become a seasoned liar.

The funniest part is that sometimes you start to believe your act, you start to believe that all the ash and embers in your chest is really alight with flames, like you’re truly alive.

But then, you would pause, sit down, lie down, dissasociate and you would be reminded that that wasn’t your body. Your body wasn’t a place of life and prosper, it was as dead as anywhere else.

“What was the observation?”

You try not to be curious over her, or curious in general, you keep everything to yourself.

“You’ve told me time and time again that you attempted because you believed that not a single person would care if you were gone. Yet you wrote a letter, you knew that somebody would care, somebody would miss you. Guilt is what kept you from doing it earlier and guilt was what kept you from vanishing without a trace. Your conscience was clean in your own words, but that’s not true, your conscience was anything but clean. So what pushed you over?”

You hate that therapists have a way of worming out weird bits of information that they can use against you to worm out more bits of information, like they know your brain inside to out.

“My conscience was clean.”

Your therapist pulls her glasses up from her nose and scribbles on her pad again.

“Why’d you write a note then, specifically why did you write a note to your ex girlfriend?”

There are so many things you could say to that, but you can’t quite find the words.

“Let me rephrase to make it easier. When you were in the hospital, and Alexia reacted so viscerally, you weren’t surprised. You expected her to feel something about what happened, you didn’t seem surprised at all by her words or actions. You knew that she was going to be hurt by what you did. So, how was your conscience truly clean?”

Thinking about Alexia in the hospital makes you feel as nauseous as the furniture does.

Your still mad at her, still mad at yourself for never changing her as your medical contact and medical proxy. It had all been a clusterfuck.

“I didn’t know Alexia was going to be there, I though that she’d washed her hands of me. I left her a note because I thought there had been things left unsaid between us and I didn’t want to leave that way.”

Your therapist nods, she doesn’t scribble this time and that makes the itchy feeling all over you die down a little bit.

“Alright, let’s move on. Your ankle injury, how’s that going?”

You look to the window, it’s a horrible day outside, just your luck when you’d chosen to walk to your therapists office on what was supposed to be a 20 degree day with sunny skies. It was the epitome of your life, high expectations, low realities.

“Well three weeks between a hospital and psychiatric facility are probably the best thing anybody can do for a injury.”

You let out a self-deprecating chuckle and your therapist does nothing but scribble.

“So you’ve been doing your rehab as advised then?”

Rehab, both kinds, is mind-bogglingly boring. You go to your therapist and she tells you all the ways you have to work to rehab your brain, she gives you medication after medication and exercise after exercise. The same happens every time you see your physio, test after test, exercise after exercise.

Your stuck in the same cycle of boredom, it makes you wonder how people ever expect you to get better when all you are doing is living in a constant state of suffering.

“The physios are happy with me, say that if I continue on the track that I am I should be back on the pitch in a few weeks, with psychological clearance.”

At the current therapeutic rate your going at, you don’t think you’ll see a psychological clearance until your 50th birthday, if you’re lucky.

“How does it feel coming back from that injury, especially considering how the decline in your physical health simulatenously resulted in the decrease in your mental health?”

You keep silent, because you know that if you talk then it’s doing to be something emotional. When you don’t know how to answer questions without exposing yourself you opt to keep quiet, it’s a obvious tell that you feel uncomfortable with the question. But giving away a tell is a whole lot better then starting an emotional downpour.

“Y/n?”

You look at your shoes. You only were allowed to start wearing one on your bad foot a week ago, and you’d forgotten how hard it was to coordinate shoes with your clothes. This morning you’d thought that they matched with your pants but now they look much darker then they truly are against the grey carpet. The mix of your navy adidas that you might have stolen from Mapi’s wardrobe a couple of months ago when she was complaining about the amount of shoes she’d been sent with your grey wide leg pants was a interesting choice but therapy wasn’t a fashion parade. The shoes don’t quite fit your feet, that’sc how you remembered they weren’t yours. When you’d taken them, it had been during some kind of team bonding night at Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment. Life had been so good, Alexia and you had been so good and for once you’d kind of felt like you were beginning to fit in.You’d never felt that way before that era of your life.

But like most things, it was now a far distant memory.

“The injury wasn’t what made me depressed.”

It’s a half truth, you suppose. Yes, the injury definitely contributed to the factors that trigger your depression, but it wasn’t a sole cause.

“I disagree.”

More scribbling on her note pad, in your opinion it must be some psychological form of torture. You’ll google it when you get home, check to make sure that this isn’t a form of manipulation to somehow convince you to say the things that she wants you to.

“If you disagree then tell me why you think that.”

It’s daring of you to say, there is nearly a 99.99 percent chance that whatever she says you are going to deny vehemently. Even if she hits it right on the nail.

“I think that you don’t give yourself enough grace for the challenges that you’ve gone through. You came to Barcelona because you were running from things, from your past. You’ve never stopped running, truly. Everytime somebody gets close enough to begin to try and worm their feet into your shoes to try and relive some of it with you, you shut them down and stop it. For most people, shoes are a means of getting to where they want, for you, you keep running because if you stop you feel like you’ll suffocate, like your feet will be wrapped up in barb wire and you’ll be stuck. For whatever reason, you don’t think anybody will ever be able to empathise with that. You think that if you ever let anybody in for long enough that they learn what you’ve been running from that they’ll try and stop you, that you’ll be faced with everything that you’ve ever struggled with. So, you keep running, and running, you’ve always been in a state of escape. With your relationship, you finally stopped running, you slowed to a jog. Then, you got injured. All of a sudden you felt like you were stuck and instead of letting yourself finally come to a stop and accepting help and complete love for once in your life, and being vulnerable. You chose to start running again, running from your friends, running from your team, running from every single good thing that you’d gotten in your life until you were so consumed with all the running that you just wanted it all to stop. But you didn’t know how to stop parts of your life without stopping other parts, so you chose to stop it all.”

You don’t know what to say for a few seconds. You’ve never had the feeling that you’ve been experiencing your whole life summed up, you don’t know how to feel about it.

You look at your psychologist, and somehow she looks back at you in a way that you somehow feel like she understands, you’ve never really felt that way about her.

It’s always felt like she’s judging you, like it’s her job to judge every single thing you say. Or at least that’s the way you’ve always seen it. It’s her job to make sure you don’t fall of the rails again, to make decisions about what you can and can’t do. It’s never been a possibility for you that maybe she’s here for a little bit more then just the business side of it all.

“Is that it? Did you come to a point where it felt like you had no other option but to just make it all stop?”

You bite your lip so hard you think it might just bleed, it’s a mission to try and stop the tears that have begun to cling to the back of your eyes at bay. You’ve never cried during a therapy session, and there is no reason why today should be different. The amount of people you’ve cried in front of is limited to a very, very short list of people and you don’t intend for your psychologist to be added.

“It would be okay if that was it. It’s okay to admit that for you at that time it felt like there was no other option but to make it all stop.”

You feel muzzled, like you can’t speak without admitting to something that you don’t want to.

“I thought it would make it all better.”

Your therapist puts down her notepad, and you feel a whole load of anxiety rush out of you.

“You thought it would make what better?”

You keep your tooth pinned to your lip, if it draws blood, it draws blood. The pain helps to take your focus off of the word vomit you can feel coming up.

“Everyone else’s lives.”

Your response is croaky, and when your therapist points to the glass of water you don’t shake your head like normal, you find yourself reaching for it and taking a few tentative sips.

“What about your life, what about making your own life better?”

You take a few more sips, because it stalls the conversation for long enough that you can think up an answer that doesn’t make it sound like you are completely insane.

“I was never really thinking about it like that.”

You look at her, eye to eye again, and there is this weird understanding between the two of you. You can feel it, whether or not it’s real, for the first time you feel like you aren’t crazy for thinking the way that you do. It’s a weird kind of safety that you’ve never had.

“For a minute, I want you to close your eyes and think about exactly what you want, whether it’s the future, it’s right now. Not football, not other people, nobody else. Just you.”

You humour her, and close your eyes.

For a few seconds, you can’t think of much. You’ve never been a future thinker, not beyond emergency plans and second options.

You think about death for a few seconds, a couple of weeks ago it was all you could think of. Permanent, irreversible disappearance. Even then though, it wasn’t what you were actually yearning for, not truly, it was just an easy solution to complex problems, problems that still haven’t been solved.

You think long and hard, and eventually you find a pleasantness.

You want to resolve things with Alexia, you know that for sure. It’s been impossible trying to navigate your relationship in your new reality. You want to get to a place where it’s less impossible. You want happiness with her, pure happiness. You also want some kind of return to football, you don’t know how. You’ve never really played football because it’s what you love, you’ve never loved your sport, it’s more been about having something that could take you places when inevitable wherever you had been was no longer an option because you’d somehow fucked it up.

You want a better relationship with yourself, you want to understand why you think the way you do and why you can’t think the same way and be the same way as everyone. You want to get past the fear you have that you will never be the same.

When you have nothing else to think about, you open your eyes, to your psychologist smiling at you.

“That’s our hour, I’m really happy to leave this here and circle back to some of it in a couple of days. The progress you’re making is definitely getting bigger and I’m happy to sign off on you getting some hours in the gym if your physios are happy with it. I’ll call the team tonight and we can work out a plan that works best.”

You’re in slight disbelief as she speaks.

“You’re sure?”

You stay seated for the sake of making sure that you haven’t somehow dreamt up what she’s just said.

“If you try and make some progress with your homework. I want you to try and talk to Mapi, a text message, coffee, something. I want you to talk to Alexia beyond her being a caregiver for you and I want you to make progress with your teammates, don’t avoid the gym if you know they are going to be there, don’t avoid team events, dip a toe in the water with them and I can guarantee you will have a very different outcome then what you think.”

Contingencies. One thing you’ve learnt about therapy is that there are always contingencies, it’s always a give and take, never one or the other.

You nod your head anyways, somehow, with her weird manipulation games you’ve managed to agree to something that the version of you from and hour ago never would have.

“I’ll try.”

Your therapist smiles and stands up, for whatever reason there is always a part of you that loves the end of your sessions but also never wants to leave.

Whether it seems like it or not, you actually do want to get better, you just don’t know what better looks like for you and that’s scary. You’ve never met the version of yourself that is ‘better’ or ‘normal’. You can’t say that you want to be your old self because there hasn’t ever been a version of yourself that feels better. You’ve always been in the slums, always been dragging yourself through the thickest mud to try and make it to the end of a day or month or year. You don’t actually want to survive like that, you want to live your life properly, or whatever non-sluggish life looks like for you.

Your still desperately trying to work that out.

Alexia is waiting in the carpark as usual, it’s always the same carpark, always the same consolation hot chocolate in her hands afterwards.

Once you’ve sat down in her passenger seat, put on your seatbelt and the takeaway cup is settled in your hands she broaches the topic of your session.

“How was it?”

There is always an awkwardness around your sessions, Alexia picks your up from every one, on the odd occasion she’ll join in if your therapist thinks it would be good. Otherwise, she spends the time sitting in her car and picking up hot drinks.

It’s infinitely awkward between the two of you, but Alexia in your opinion is mostly to blame for that.

She’d been the first person to put her hand up to be your carer, your glorified babysitter.

You know it’s a guilt thing, she feels guilty that part of your pain could have been because of her, even though you’ve insisted time and time again that it wasn’t.

“Fine.”

Therapy is a tough topic for you, mostly because you’ve never wanted to be there in the first place. You’d been tricked into going from the beginning, Alexia insisting that she was taking you to a appointment to check up on your scars when really it had been to your psychologists office. You’d yelled and screamed and insisted that she take you home, but at the end of the day if you ever wanted to play football again it was obvious you were going to have to suck it up.

You hadn’t talked to Alexia for days after that, which is funny because that was less then three weeks ago and now you’re here.

“Fine?”

You nod your head, it’s hard to find words after a normal session, but after this one it’s ever harder.

“I made some progress.”

Alexia nods, you know there are probably a hundred questions going through her head right now, but she won’t ask them. She’s too scared that if she asks them, she’ll get an answer that will terrify her. One that will restart all of the problems, even if that isn’t really how it works. Alexia doesn’t understand mental health, that’s become frighteningly obvious over the past few weeks. She doesn’t understand your struggles because she’s never experienced them. She’s never had self hatred or depression or overwhelming anxiety. It’s what makes you feel so alienated and so out of place amongst your peers. You feel like a shark amongst a sea of dolphins, like you look the same but when it comes down to it you are completely different.

“That’s good, no?”

You nod your head, disguising the grimace on your face by the mouth of the lid on your hot chocolate.

“She says I can start doing some hours in the gym.”

Alexia smiles, big and wide, like it’s her whose been given the good news.

“That’s good bebita, you’ll be on the pitch in no time.”

The pitch. It’s all Alexia cares about.

When you can be back, how she can get you to the point you can be back. Because when Alexia is injured, it’s all she cares about. What she can do to get herself back on the pitch, how she can make the rehab process faster, she thinks of every single logistic and possibility.

You want to make it back to the pitch, or you think you do. But it’s not your priority. It’s become abundantly clear that your main priority has to be yourself, figuring yourself out.

“Mhm.”

You focus your energy on counting how many bike riders pass Alexia’s car as she navigates through peak city traffic. You get to 38 before she interrupts your intense search for every person on two wheels.

“Vicky’s supposed to be coming over later, I promised I’d help her with a school project. I can go to her house instead if you’d prefer?”

Every time Alexia’s broached the topic of teammates you’ve immediately refused any contact, and your immediate reaction is to say no. but you think about what your therapist said.

“I might text Mapi and see if she wants to talk to me.”

You hear the sound of Alexia’s shock in the form of a choken sort of cough, she tries to cover it up by slapping her hand against the wheel of her car, but it doesn’t do much.

“I think that would be a really good idea, bebita, I think she would be really happy to see you.”

You don’t look at Alexia, you don’t want to see the look of perplexion or shock or whatever emotion she’s going through. You haven’t seen Mapi since the hospital, and as little as you remember from then, you remember Mapi very clearly.

She had been just as out of it as you’d been, refusing to leave your bedside but Ingrid having to do everything for her to keep her alive. Every time she visited you, she looked like she’d seen a ghost, or something worse. You weren’t sure what was worse, seeing somebody dead or seeing somebody who was hanging on the cliff of life and death and having to save their life, knowing that if action hadn’t of been taken they would be dead.

Definitely the latter.

“I’ll text her, see if she can come and pick you up before Vicky comes over?”

You nod your head, allowing yourself to focus back on counting your tally, except moving over to motorcycles this time.

You shower with the bathroom door halfway open. There are no sharps anywhere in your apartment, knives, razors, scissors, nail clippers, vegetable peelers, glasses, anything that could cause any kind of bodily harm. For now, you aren’t allowed to be left alone for longer then an hour. You sleep with your bedroom door open and Alexia sleeping in the guest room next door. You eat a set meal plan, you do two hours of rehab every single day, you live on a schedule that is so carefully planned that you have no time to yourself and yet every single moment feels lonely.

It’s a process, you’ve been told. It’s crucial to your recovery that there are measurements in place to assure your ‘success’.

Alexia knocks on your door every five minutes whilst you shower, you yell back every time.

It had become a rule after the first time you’d showered with the door open you’d made a joke about using the shower curtain to harm yourself, because what did they really expect you to be doing?

It hadn’t gone well, Alexia going silent for a few days and a very heated conversation with your psychologist about the inappropriateness of making jokes about suicide.

It was your trauma, it was your fucking story, and everyone was acting like it was their most sensitive issue.

Bathrooms are a bit of a touchy subject, you don’t shower in your ensuite bathroom anymore, you can’t. The room has permanently been blocked off, completely forgotten about.

The first thing you want to do once you’ve ‘recovered’ is leave this apartment, there are to many bad memories, it feels like you’ll never be able to recover if your stuck in the same place that you were in when it all went bad.

It’s a problem for when you can deal with the stress of packing up your whole life and moving it to somewhere.

When you shut the water off and step out of the warm stream you let yourself breathe, showers are the only real alone time you get. Everywhere else you are supervised, watched like a hawk to make sure that you don’t try anything else that could jeopardise your return to football. The reality is that Barca can’t afford to have you sit on the sideline for a whole season, they need you back, they can’t risk another slip up.

Alexia at least gives you the privacy of getting dressed in your own wardrobe, all of your wired bras have been removed, but for the most part it’s all normal.

You get dressed in another sweat suit, it’s become your new uniform over the last few weeks, no draw strings of course.

Your hair gets swept into a messy bun, it’s too much effort to deal with the brushing and braiding and tying that you would have normally gone through with a couple of weeks ago. You aren’t allowed to wear jewellery anymore so your accessories consist of pretty much nothing. You’re bare from the bones to your clothes, your soul feels as bare as the rest of your body.

You’re allowed to wear laced shoes, but you often opt not to, slip on birkenstocks or uggs are just easier. The Barcelona January chill has been getting to you recently, so you upt for your ugg boots.

Your outfit choice is the most choice you get in your day, so you try and put as little thinking into it as possible, it’s easier for you to just succumb to the reality that everything in your life is controlled by other people.

By the time you’ve finished, you’re towing very close to the time Mapi had told Alexia she’d come and meet you. You collect the things that you might need from your vanity and shove them in your pocket, before making your way out to your living room.

It’s unofficially become Alexia’s office, her laptop and books cover your dining table now. She lives out of your apartment, leaves only for training and barcelona commitments, so it’s fair to say that she’s made herself at home.

When you were living together before, it had bothered you more, having her things everywhere. Alexia is a organiser, of everything and everybody but herself. You’d spend hours telling her to pick up her shoes from random spots around the apartment floor or getting her to pick up random clothing items laying on top of pieces of furniture. This mess is different, it reflects how the situation is different. There is nothing comfortable about your predicament, it’s not the same kind of comfortable coexistence you had when you were dating Alexia.

There is a boundary between the two of you now and it makes it all so much more confusing.

Alexia isn’t just your friend or your teammate, she’s you caregiver, the person who holds you accountable, unofficially the person who is supposed to keep you from doing anything to yourself. It adds a whole layer of stress to the situation, you can’t relax around her the same way you used to.

Your relationship is never going to be the same, but parts of you wished that Alexia hadn’t taken over the burden of caring for you, because maybe the two of you could work on rebuilding yourselves as a couple instead of Alexia trying to rebuild you as a person, as if you are a broken lego set that needed to be put back together.

She spends most of her time in your living room, doesn’t push the boundary of your bedroom unless it’s needed.

She’s sat at the kitchen table, preparing herself to help with whatever project it is that Vicky needs help with.

“Shouldn’t Vicky have maybe asked one of the younger girls? You’re practically ancient now, they probably teach the kids these days history from when you were growing up.”

Whatever Alexia looks like she’s going to be helping with looks like something she’s definitely not qualified in, although Alexia’s never the person to say no.

“You’re acting like I’m a dinosaur, I’m only four years older then you.”

She rolls her eyes at you and it feels so normal, for a second you feel so much more normal. Life would be so much easier if everybody stopped treating you like a fine fucking piece of china. An eye roll here or there, a yell here or there, some kind of emotion beyond sympathy would be nice.

“I mean, in comparison to Vicky you’re pretty much from the stone ages.”

Alexia rolls her eyes again, she looks like she’s about to fight back against you but a knock at the door silences you both.

All of a sudden the little smile is gone and the air goes thick again, thick with the reminder that you can’t just exist in a bubble of nothingness were nobody else exists and you can just be free from everything.

Alexia gets up to open the door, and you let her, allowing yourself to loiter around the table and enjoy the moment for just a little bit longer. It’s that moment that might just get you through what is about to happen.

Alexia calls for you and you know it’s Mapi, you know it’s Mapi because Mapi won’t step foot in your apartment.

Ingrid had come to visit when you’d come home, along with a handful of other people, but Mapi hadn’t been one of them. Ingrid had explained that it had been to hard for her, that she’d made it to the door but couldn’t come in, and you couldn’t find it in you to blame her.

Mapi smiles at you when she sees you, it’s the first time you’ve seen her since the hospital and the both of you look very different since then.

She looks less dead, that’s the first thing you take notice of. She doesn’t look like she would blow away into a puff of smoke if a gust of wind came past. She looks good, she looks healed.

Mapi and you don’t talk, for whatever reason, you take the normal walk you would every sunday morning before it happened.

Down from your apartment, onto the main street, up to the mouth of the road, across the street and then onto the boardwalk.

It’s the main reason you chose your apartment, it’s right next to the beach. Perfect for post matchday swims and a morning walk on the beach. It used to be yours and Mapi’s pregame routine and it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of your feet moving down the sidewalk.

No words are spoken until the two of you are seated on the sand, a wordless agreement that you both come to when your toes hit the beach.

You’re both seated, your eyes looking over the horizon. Your too scared to break the silence, so you wait for Mapi.

“You look good, chica.”

You nod your head, you feel better, you must look better then how you did.

“I feel better.”

Mapi nods, when her hand reaches out to sit on top of your own on the sand, you don’t flinch away, it feels good to have a physical connection with a person who isn’t Alexia.

The silence falls over the two of you again, except this time it feels less uncomfortable. You let it linger for a little bit, before you feel in a place to speak.

“I need to say thank you. I know I said some things in the hospital, I meant it in the moment but I want to take it back now. You saved me, you did something so brave and amazing and the version of me now is so grateful that you did.”

Mapi stops your rant, before you can say something else.

“I would have done it for anybody else.”

The problem is you think, that you aren’t anybody else. It would be so much easier to give cpr to a random person on the street and never see them again, never have to be worried that you would see them again and there would be some kind of problem.

“But you did it for me. You saved me from myself, and I want you to know that I genuinely am so thankful for you. You didn’t choose the easy option and I put you in a extremely hard position. If anything had of happened to me, you would have blamed yourself and it wouldn’t have been your fault but you would have felt like it was.”

Mapi nods, and then you hear a sniffle and it makes you feel horrible.

Mapi’s crying, she’s crying and you don’t know what to do.

“You begged me to reverse it, in the hospital, you didn’t say some things. You begged me to stab you or do something. You told me it was my fault you were alive and that it was my responsibility to undo what I’d done.”

You take a deep breath, you didn’t remember it being that bad, but you remember Alexia telling you that some of the things you’d said had been unrepeatable.

“I can’t reverse what I said, in that moment I was in so much pain Maps. I actually can’t tell you how much pain i was in, all I wanted was to disappear. I’m working through not feeling that way and that starts by apologising. You did not deserve to experience what you did. You did not deserve to see what you did. You did not deserve to hear what I said to you. I am sorry. There is nothing I can say that will make any of it okay, I am sorry that for whatever reason god chose you to be the person burdened with this. I am so sorry.”

Mapi sniffles again. You knew that the possibility of no reconciliation was possible, that Mapi would reject any offer of apologies you had, you’d just really hoped it wouldn’t be like that.

“You’ve been like a little sister to me. I know you didn’t feel like we were that close, but I saw so much of me in you from when I was younger, and that was part of the reason I ended up at your apartment that night. Because I was worried, more then anybody else. I had this weird feeling, and I hated that I was right about it. You were like my little sister, and I watched as they strapped you onto a gurney and wheeled you off whilst telling me that they would try their hardest. I don’t blame you, there is no blame for something like this. But I need you to understand that I can’t just get over what I www, I’m working through it, I’m trying. My therapist has really been helping me, but it’s not going to disappear.”

You nod, Mapi and you have been through two mirroring experiences, and oddly you feel the same way about your own therapy. You’re working through it, you’re trying, but nothing that has happened is ever going to disappear, with yourself or with your peers.

“Maps, you’re allowed to experience however you want. If you never want to see me again I won’t hate you.”

Mapi shakes her head.

“I don’t know how I feel yet, I just need you to know that I understand that the you right now is different to the you from weeks ago, and you are entitled to separate yourself from that person. You don’t have to be that person if you don’t want to be. Let yourself live in the new version of you, the old version died back then.”

You bite your lip, there is beginning to become a permanent divet from your front teeth, you like it in a weird way.

“I’m trying, I’m really trying.”

Mapi nods, raising her arm from your hand, to your shoulders, bringing you into her side.

“We’ll try together then, huh? You try for me and I’ll try for you?”

You nod your head, and for the first time it doesn’t feel like you’re totally alone in the battle that you’re fighting. It’s still very much your battle, but it feels like you have somebody in your corner letting you know that you are going to be okay.

—————————————

well aware it’s not edited… if u have an issue with that such my dick xoxo

hope you enjoyed !!!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[kentoxo]

PLEASEEE JM BEGGING PLEASEEE. MAKE THE SMUTTIEST SMUT OF MEGUMI X F READER. Like I need it to be disgusting and vile. (Im so horny rn I’m sorry.) make them go round after round🤤 tit grabbing and everything.

I UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT

pairing: reader(f) x bf!megumi (aged up)

synopsis: he doesn't just want you-- he needs you. after you had spent days back home, you were not anticipating the beast that brewed in your apartment.

warnings: tit play, fingering, overstimulation, rounds of sex

a/n: YALL I GOT A COLD! this weather change ruined me but it will not stop me from my destiny (of writing smut). sorry this took me so long to get to xo

It wasn't like it was that long. What was it, 4 days? Family called you home, and you couldn't refuse after hearing the longing in their voices. Megumi made futile attempts to keep you home, but you had to go see your family. You remember tying up his now long hair, his face grumpy and he wouldn't make eye contact.

You finally returned, and the house was particularly quiet. Getting yourself situated by the door, you proceed into your apartment slowly, the pit pats of your slippers being the only sound. "Megumi?" You call out quietly, hoping your voice didn't intrude in the still silence.

Finding your way to your shared bedroom, you noticed the door was slightly ajar. You push the door open quietly, but the creaking made you known. Sat on his side of the bed with a small book in hand, Megumi looks up and his eyes widen.

You barely get to say a word, as he wastes not a moment of his time. Strong arms shelter you, his chiseled chin sat calmly on the top of your head. You wrap your own arms around him, closing your eyes to melt in his embrace. He smells of vanilla and cardamom. "Your hair looks messy," you murmur against his chest, smiling warmly to yourself.

"Hadn't fixed it since you left," Megumi responds curtly, his fingertips denting lightly into your back. "Didn't care 'nough to." He tightens his hold around you, his warmth taking you over. "Why didn't you call me? I would have picked you up."

"It wasn't necessary," you hum, "I took a cab." As you melted more in his hold, you felt his hands snake down to your bum. His face lowers into the crook of your neck, lightly chapped lips leaving kisses there. You weave your fingers into his hair, tilting your head to give him better access. "Babe..."

"m'sorry, I should ask first," Megumi whispers in a raspy voice. He brings your free hand over to his bulge, guiding you to rub the limb up and down. "I've missed you s'much... may I?"

You giggle, lifting Megumi's head from your neck. Obsidian eyes bore into your own, his cheeks flushed pink. It took a long time for Megumi to openly express himself to you. And yet still, he was unable to take what he wanted without the need to ask. "You need not ask," you whisper, "I'm yours, Megumi."

His eyes narrow down, trying to find true confirmation in your gaze. But your eyes don't relent, and flames begin to dance in his eyes. You loved how respectful he is, but you two have been dating for too long for him to still ask permission to love on you. Especially when he was starving for you and your body.

Without wasting another moment, he hastily tosses you onto the bed. Your heart races from his sudden movements as desperate fingers begin to discard your clothing one by one. In seconds, you were just in your undergarments. He simply looks down, his lips practically salivating at the very sight of you. His hands cling to the center of your bra, dragging them opposite directions until it ripped. Your breaths poured out, a throaty moan leaving your mouth. "was that necessar--"

Before you could dare finish, Megumi's hungry lips entrap yours. Between kisses, he begins to strip himself, revealing to you the toned body, defined abs, and intense scarring ornate all over his body. You felt dirty to admit it, but seeing his scars turned you on. You'd never let that slip out, not even to your own soul.

Pulling away, Megumi stands upright once more and looks down at your body once more. Hungry eyes stared at your breasts as they bounced with every motion he did to take off your panties. "baby," Megumi begins quietly, "please let me know if i'm too rough. but, i'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll never leave without me again."

With that, he sits at the headboard of the bed, grabs a firm hold of your hips and lifts you towards him. A pool had long developed between your legs, and he knew it. "ass up for me." You lay your torso, but perk your ass up in front of him per his demand. Once you did, three fingers jam inside your leaking flower.

"h-hey!" You gasped, unprepared for his immediately quick pace. Megumi's bony fingers thrust into your pussy, your precum coating his hand in minutes. He curled his hands to drag his finger tips against your g-spot, earning him scratchy moans from you. "babe-- megumi-- it's t-too much, t-too soon to--"

You didn't want to come yet-- it would be too embarassing, and Megumi knew that. But his fingers didn't relent, and you could feel your climax coming. "i need you to finish for me right now, beautiful."

"b-but...!" You say painfully. You wanted to come with his dick inside you-- not like this in the half hour you've been home. "megumi, please--!"

"now," he demanded, with his free hand giving your ass cheek a burning spank. In moments, bursts of juice leave your cunt, the warm water dragging down to your clit, threatening to drip. Your chest heaved desperately against the best, sheets curled forcibly between your fingers.

You were prepared to be annoyed, when Megumi suddenly takes your hips and sits you down onto his cock. You writhe, your back arching against his torso. You let out strings of curses, only to be quieted by Megumi's fingers filling your mouth. The taste of your cum met your tongue as Megumi's rough fingers played with it. Your ass dragged against his pelvis, and his long, thick limb filled you up kindly.

"t-too much...!" You mewl, your toes curling from being suddenly filled. Your tight walls made Megumi dizzy, as he had been dreaming of fucking you the minute you left for your trip. He gently thrusts into you, making you hop lightly up and down his cock. As he did, his large hands scoop up your breasts. They were still warm, and slightly sweaty since you recently 'removed' your bra.

"mm, so perfect," Megumi hums against the back of your neck. He teases you, peppering hot kisses on your neck. He aggressively massages your breasts, overstimulating you in the process. Despite your pleas, you didn't want to stop him (not like you could anyways). His fingers clenched your breasts desperately, moving them every which way while your buds were being clamped and pulled at by the interdigits.

You felt light headed, unable to stop the tight hold on Megumi's thighs as he gently fucked you. His hands were the opposite, pulling and tugging your mounds, rubbing teasingly at the crevice's under your breasts. Teeth finally met your neck, with a series of sucking and nibbling to ensue.

"m'gonna cum-- again..!" You spew out, your body unable to itself. You squirmed around his cock just enough to add to the friction and force you to finish around his ever-horny cock. "megumi..." you moan slowly, but his silence made you realize that it was not over. "h-hey--!"

He pushes you against the best, positioning you as you once were when he was fingering you to your first orgasm. Firm hands take hold of your hips as he suddenly slams his cock right back inside of you. It slid it quickly, with a heavy coating of two of your orgasms all over his aching member. You claw at the end of the bed while your boyfriend fucked your lights out.

"come again, love," Megumi demands firmly. His fingertips dig into your sides, his pace a little too quickly for you to be able to recover at all. "get tight 'round me." Your pussy was burning, the overstimulation clouding your vision. But Megumi was fucking that 3rd orgasm out of you, whether you liked it or not. With a final and deep thrust, you felt your pussy clench tightly around him, with more cum seeping out of your used cunt.

But he wasn't ready to let you go just yet. He stands the both of you up, bringing you over to the large mirror you thrifted years ago. He knew your legs were weak already, but he hasn't come yet. And this night would never end until he does. You eye yourself in the mirror, your neck and shoulders ornate with hickies, and your nipples bruised a light purple. There were red markings all over your breasts after Megumi's attack. Your legs held a shine, with your cum slowly making its way down to your calves.

Without a word, Megumi put his hand on your back and silently makes you bend over. His hands find their way to your ass, and he spreads it so he can fill you up once again. In a second, his phallus fills you up once again, and you could feel the burning sensation tug at the bottom of your stomach. "megumi..." his name left your mouth in a whimper, a horny cry.

Getting back into his rhythm, Megumi's hands find their way to your wrists and pulls them back. He forces you to arch your back once more, your eyes clouded from your state of painful ecstasy. His strokes are sloppy but still consistent, considering his pent up stress and now exhaustive state.

"m'so close... so fuckin close," Megumi growls between gritted teeth. "your pussy takes me so well..." You watch your breasts bounce with each thrust. Your body was searing, waiting eagerly for his orgasm. "im gonna fill you up, mm, okay beautiful?"

You nod tiredly, incoherent sounds being the only thing you could muster. He thrusts so deeply that his tip threatens to touch your womb. But finally, his pelvis presses against your ass, and he shoots his load between your searing walls. You finish simultaneously, your body finally giving out. But Megumi pulls out and catches you, guiding you over to the bathroom for a nice, warm shower.

As he sits you down on the toilet to prepare the bath, he looks back at you and chuckles. You were leaned against the wall beside the toilet, eyes closed with sweat collecting all over. "Next time, pack me in your luggage," Megumi advises in a monotone voice.

You suck your teeth, earning another laugh from him.

[amywritesthings]

Hi love!! Can I ask for some fluff with our man when we are still in bed, waking up and just talking about future? Like Levi's dream of owning a tea shop is so cute

i got you xo

window shopping.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader word count: 880 warnings: 18+ mdni, light oral sex (f!receiving), naked laying in bed, overall fluff and banter, set in the flackbacks and universe of silver underground. credit: divider by @saradika-graphics

"Nice to Mint You."

You're met with deep, disappointed silence.

"Jasmine-d to Meet You."

An unimpressed baritone groan rumbles against your cheek.

"...that really the best you got?"

It takes everything in you not to vibrate from your own amusement, knowing damn well that Levi's eyes must be glued to the back of his head from how hard he's rolling them in exasperation.

With pursed lips, you nuzzle your cheek back into the soft bare expanse of his chest. "...nice to... matcha—"

"Enough."

The dam breaks, and you're left bursting into quiet giggles when his strong hand pulls you closer to his body.

Easily you mold closer, gliding a palm along the flex of his abdomen until your arm has returned to its original place. Your fingers tickle the curve of his torso, barely brushing the white sheets below.

To think the two of you once lived a life where you couldn't spend the twilight hours of the day like this: in a proper bed with proper sheets and pillows; left to talk about nothing, nonsense, until the sun came up and you returned to his shadow.

Lieutenant and Captain.

"What?" you feign innocence, lifting your head to observe the miniscule scowl pinching his eyes to a narrow. "Every tea shop on the surface has a punny name."

"Not if they have a bit of damn self respect, they don't," he mumbles, still idly tracing circles into the flesh of your upper arm.

"I'm wounded."

"I'm sure you are." Caught red-handed in a lie; a grin stretches your mouth, causing his eyes to narrow further. "Brat."

"I'd rather be a brat than boring."

"Oh, yeah?" he challenges, voice still an octave lower from just waking up. "Is that what I am to you? Boring?"

"A real snooze."

You lie again, but you're persuaded otherwise when that hand on your arm snakes between flesh to tickle under your armpit. Immediately you jolt, trying to keep your voice down as you protest in panic.

"No! No, I'm kidding, don't, I'm sorry—"

"Shhh."

Levi pushes forward, landing in a position hovering above you. The arm that was once wrapped around your body now rises so his palm can cradle your face.

"So goddamn loud," he reprimands without heat. "You wanna wake up the rest of the shitheads?"

"As if they don't already know," you protest with a sigh, relaxing once you're certain he isn't about to launch an attack.

"They don't."

"Uh-huh."

For a moment, you stare. Focus, on the way his black fringe messily hangs over his stormy eyes. He's grown out his hair whether he'll admit it or not. You often find yourself wondering that it could look like longer.

"I'm losing you," he states, bringing you back to the present with him. "What's on your mind?"

You blink back into your body and really look into his eyes.

When you once dreamed about coming to the surface, you thought a thunderstorm would best these eyes. You've seen over a dozen storms at this point. None have ever compared.

"The fact that you don't wanna name your tea shop something cute."

"Who said I wanted to own one?"

"As if you wouldn't cream yourself at the idea of getting good, quality leaves to put the rest of the Walls to shame." Your brows slide high on your forehead. "Am I wrong?"

A pause settles.

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth.

"Tch. It's not gonna have a cute name."

"Then what do you wanna name it?"

Lifting your chin, the tip of your nose grazes his.

"Indulge me."

"Fine. Got one."

"Sure."

His legs slide under the thin sheet to hook around yours. You lift your hips and shift with him to accommodate the press of his body.

For the longest time he stares, studying you, before finally mumbling three words.

"...Humanity's Strongest Brew."

He must sense you're about to howl, because his hand leaps off of your cheek to press full against your mouth. And he's right to do it: you nearly betray your location by laughing outright, head tilted back.

"S'funny to you, huh?" he grunts.

"Mmm!"

Trying to speak, to tell him that you're good, you won't alert the neighboring scouts, you wave a hand in his face. His gaze narrows to slits before eventually letting up.

"I swear, James—"

"No!" you interrupt in a whisper, fighting demons to conceal your giggles. "No, it's amazing. I'm serious."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it, Levi! But — shit, if you thought my puns were bad—"

"I'm done talking," he decides, kissing between your breasts. "Gonna make you pay for laughing."

"Wait!"

He makes a point to crawl down your body, kissing a trail of sloppy kisses at the middle of your ribcage to your belly button.

"I promise you, it's a great name."

He answers by grabbing the edge of the sheet and ripping it over his head, disappearing under the fabric.

"Levi—"

When he hooks your left thigh over his shoulder and dives in to bury his face against your center, you gasp sharply and grab the pillow behind your head. He hums against your clit, satisfied by the silence.

"Not laughing so hard now, huh?"

Before you can answer, he dives back in to devour his breakfast.

[tangerinesilk]

－ DISTRACTION : DAVE LIZEWSKI

dave was a great study buddy, but there's no doubt he was a distraction. he constantly made you turn your head twice at whatever he said or did whether it was some comic book character he rambled about or how his pale blue eyes shined under the warm lighting of his desk lamp.

pairing ✷ college!dave lizewski x college!fem!reader

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

tropes ✷ friends with benefits, spicy but no / little plot, unspoken love, domestic toward eachother but no dating, dorky and awkward people in love who just wont admit it theyre in love (sort of) | nsfw warnings below!

word count ✷ 1.7k

a/n ✷ um this was a random thought and it just sort of happened. stg it feels like i blacked out while writing this KSKFFKS what is going on with me. anyways been wanting to write about this cute dork for a while and why not make it really hot. posting now so i dont chicken out but ill edit later.... i always love feedback! xo

[ steamy warnings: mentions of public sex, dom & sub switches, p in v without protection, nipple play, hj + bj, f receiving oral from m, praising + heavy dirty talk, face sitting, finishing inside v ]

typical weekends: saturday night at dave's apartment.

dave was explaining something... it was something. something important, but all you could focus on was his pretty eyes and how soft his lips looked today. he pushed his glasses up more on his nose bridge again, looking down at his book for one of his college classes.

he was so into the subject, you didn't even have to nod. you were occasionally tapping the eraser end of your pencil against your blank notebook, only listening to every other word.

suddenly, your mind wanders to when you two were doing laundry at three in the morning and got a little spontaneous. then getting a bit handsy on the top floor of the library where no one usually was. maybe even the time when you were visiting him back home for one weekend and you both could barely keep it together with company downstairs.

ever since you both agreed on this friends with benefits agreement, your dry spells were no longer an issue. it seemed like both of you were touched starved, but not wanting to meet other people, strangers you didnt want or need to know.

so, after becoming lab partners in your fall semester of senior year, its been nonstop seeing each other. not just for sex, but hanging out to study, going to local comic book stores and libraries, even the occasional dinner and sleepover combo at his apartment or yours.

it seemed like a wild card at first, but you would never admit (outloud) to dave lizewski that you underestimated how great his tongue felt inside your pus—

"y/n, are you even listening?"

you cleared your throat, "hmm?"

he chuckled, "so you weren't... i know, its kind of boring."

now you felt bad, caught up from going down memory lane and he was excited about his new class.

you ran your hand over his curls, "im sorry, dave. my mind was wandering."

he turned, seeming interested, "about what?"

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, "about... you know..." you trailed then shrugged, "stuff."

dave smiled, "oh yeah? you weren't, i dont know, thinking about me?"

you had seen this confidence grow inside dave as more time passed, and you weren't sure if it was cockiness, but you couldn't deny how cute yet attractive it was on him.

"why dont you go back to what you were rambling about? please. im all ears now." you lean in, placing your hands underneath your chin with your elbows on his desk.

its ironic how his full size bed was behind the two of you yet here you are, acting like this was the first time you've hung out.

he pressed wet kisses against your inner thighs, your clit aching for his mouth as his nose brushed against your skin. he'd let out a nervous chuckle as he noticed the wet spot forming on the center of your panties. you'd bite your bottom lip as he licked his lips, in awe of the mess you were for him.

dave pulled down your panties, shuffling them down your ankles before tossing them to the side. his strong hands run up the top of your thighs before holding your hips, pulling your core closing to his mouth. after his first, yet hesitant, kiss on your clit, you let out a faint moan.

soon his tongue was running over your open slit and tasting your sweet wetness. you arched your back, leaning back on his desk as he flicked your clit a few times. when he pushes his tongue inside you, a rush of heat runs over your entire body. you caress your own breasts and pull at your own nipples as he picks up his pace.

"fuck... god, yes. eat my fucking pussy." you whimpered. he got so weak when you uttered your sweet nothings. as dominant as he thought he presented himself, dave was a sucker for you.

just when you thought it couldn't get better, he slide his two fingers into your slit as his tongue flicks your swollen clit. you told him how you love when he curled his fingers inside you, knuckle deep and gathering your wetness every pump as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

your hips grind against his mouth and hand, painfully near your climax. he cursed under his breath as he felt your pussy clench around his digits. he pulls his mouth away from your clit, trailing more kisses over your stomach then rolls his tongue against your right nipple.

his hand still worked your slit, thrusting so fast that your head was spinning along with the pleasure of him sucking your erect nipple. you glanced down, seeing how his hard pressed against his khakis. just the thought of taking his cock into your mouth made you dizzy, bucking your hips against his fingers.

"yes... make me cum. i wanna fucking cum on your fingers." you muttered under your breath, pulling at his curls. dave's knees were giving out as he held his position but he loved to hear your continous begging.

he was about to see if he could pick up his pace before your hand reached down, sliding into the front of his stained pants and caressing his hard cock. he grunted against your chest, instantly weak from your touch which made him pause.

"hmm, what about i cum on your cock instead?" you giggled as your lips met his, "it's so hard... bet you've been thinking about cumming inside my tight pussy, huh, dave?"

he sighed, "shit..."

"that's what i thought, baby." you say before taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting your own cum. he takes a mental picture even though you've done this in your previous hookups.

you hop off the desk, playfully pushing him on his twin size bed. you slowly get on your knees, running your hand over the crotch of his pants that were already unbuttoned and half unzipped. it's easy for your pull his cock out, practically springing from his briefs.

his eyes are glued to you as your tongue runs up and down the base before wrapping your lips against his red tip. you half-giggle when you taste his pre-cum, then carefully take him all in your mouth. you gag a bit as his tip pushes further in, and he groans when your throat tightens around him.

you push your tongue out to make sure your teeth dont graze his cock as you deep throat him, incredibly slow, so he can watch in awe. he leans up on his elbows, falling apart as you take him in your mouth so easily and your hand pumping the rest of his base.

"fucking christ... fuck." he muttered, his dick twitching inside your mouth as your salvia runs down when you gag on his hard.

his hand runs over your hair, gathering it together to keep it out of your face— also to have a better view of him receiving one of the best blowjobs you've given him.

when you pull your mouth away, you giggle as you pump his cock with your spit lubricating for better motion. his face screws together the faster you pump, and he can barely take the pleasure.

"hmm, i bet you wanna cum on my face... and tits. but, i want you to cum inside me." you say as you but your bottom lip, running your thumb over the cum leaking from his tip.

"me too, baby. fuck!" he grunts, and it makes you smile at how much of a mess he is too.

you rise from your knees, relieving the pressure on them before straddling him on his bed. you pull off your top, tossing it on the other side of the room as he quickly peels his shirt off as well. his big hands run up your body, over your breasts once more as his thumbs move against your nipples.

"god, i want to feel every inch of your cock... so, don't stop until you're finished." you tell him as you run his tip agaisnt your slit before slowly sinking down on him.

"babe, shit... fuck." he whimpered, his fingers pressing into your hips as you arch your back.

"god, im so tight." you moan, "your cock is so big... can barely fit you inside me." you huff, your eyes closed shut as you slowly move your hips.

soon, you meet a nice pace of bouncing on his cock and he loosens up as he watches you move up and down. his bright eyes keep moving between looking at your tits and your face, completely amazed by your beauty.

you run your hands over his toned chest and abdomen, leaving light scratches on his skin from the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

"dave, im gonna cum. oh, oh! i'm gonna cum." you announced to him and he was holding off anyways, his jaw clenched his much that it was beginning to feel painful.

as you arch your back and let out a long whine, he stills his hips as his warm cum fills you up. it was the first time he was fully inside you, and you were aching around his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls.

he leans up, leaving a soft kiss just above your breasts before you two share another kiss. you can't help but giggle, both of you feeling that sudden hit of exhaustion.

you lift yourself from your cock and cum runs down your slit, letting him see the mess he made. dave smirks, expecting him to say that he'll get you a towel but instead licks his lips and starts to lean down between your legs again.

it was like deja vu. his tongue presses against your swollen slit, tasting your mixed cum before sucking on your sore clit. now you're so sensitive to the touch, you could orgasm again at any moment. he was so in tune with your body that he knew what pace to go and how long you could actually lasts.

you run your hands over your breasts, his tongue moving so perfectly between your slit and clit. you feel his press a light kiss against the area above your pussy before trailing more kisses up your body. then, you two shared another kiss, tasting each other's tongues once more before he laid next to you.

"you know, i've never had a study partner like you." you jeered, pressed a kiss against the start of his jaw.

he blushed, "me neither..." he raised his eyebrows, "trust me."

[tonycries]

Yakuza!Sukuna is terrifying—unholy, untouchable, an apex predator in designer suits and ancient ink.

People hear his name and flinch. His enemies fold before he touches them. His men follow orders without a word.

He doesn’t bow.

He doesn’t bend.

And he doesn’t love.

Until you.

And suddenly, he’s obsessed. Feral. Whipped in the most dangerous fucking way imaginable.

⸻

You walked into his world like a pretty little accident waiting to happen, all soft smiles and polite charm, too good for the seedy bar you’d been dragged to, dressed like temptation with just enough ink showing to get under his skin.

He watched you from his booth in the back—red eyes narrowed, rings clicking against his glass, the glint of his gold tooth catching the light as he grinned.

He should’ve looked away.

He didn’t. He couldn’t.

Then your date touched you—too high, too fast—and said something that made your smile freeze.

Sukuna sat up, ready to intervene.

But you didn’t need help.

You punched him. Hard.

One hit, clean, brutal.

Blood everywhere.

Sukuna’s drink hit the table untouched.

His jaw was clenched.

And his cock? Already fucking hard.

⸻

He was on you in seconds—inked, towering, dangerous, all heat and muscle and that devil’s grin that usually made people piss themselves.

But not you.

You just blinked up at him, unimpressed, bored even.

“You hit like a pro, sweetheart. I’m impressed.”

You smirked. “And you’re nosy. What’s it to you?”

“Everything.”

You scoffed. “Bold. You always hit on women after they break noses?”

“Just the ones I’m gonna marry.”

⸻

Three days later, you’re in his bed, straddling him, his hands bruising your hips, both of you breathless and high on lust and pride.

“Mine,” he growled, biting your jaw, cock buried deep, eyes wild and hungry.

You didn’t flinch. You smiled, leaned in slow, licked into his mouth, and whispered,

“No, you’re mine.”

He froze.

Laughed.

Then snapped.

Flipped you fast, hands everywhere, teeth on your throat, voice wrecked and hoarse.

“Yours? Fuck yeah, angel. Yours. Now say it. Say you’re mine.”

You didn’t. Not at first.

You made him earn it.

Made him work for it, cocky and smug, teasing him with that sweet little mouth and that filthy attitude he was addicted to.

Until you broke—clawed at his shoulders, gasped it, “Yours, Kuna.”

Kuna.

He fucking snapped.

Body shaking, breath gone, head buried in your neck as he lost it inside you, moaning like you’d just ended his entire bloodstained existence.

“Say it again,” he demanded, desperate, ruined.

You smirked.

“Yo-”

“You know that’s not what I mean. Say it again brat, fuckin please”

“Kuna - ‘s all f’ you Kuna” You’d slur in the throes of pleasure. Barely able to think straight as he slams into that sweet spot over and over again.

That’s when he swore he’d kill anyone who dared breathe wrong in your direction.

You were his. Forever.

⸻

He never stopped touching you.

Hand on your ass in public. Arm around your waist. Mouth on your neck. Always.

He didn’t care who watched.

Didn’t care who stared.

“Wear whatever you want, baby. I can fight.”

And he did.

⸻

You, sweet and polite with everyone else, terrified rival bosses with your smile.

Once, some idiot flirted with him in front of you.

You didn’t yell. Didn’t curse.

Just smiled.

“Touch him again and I’ll break your wrist. He’s mine.”

Sukuna? Hard. Immediately.

Dragged you out and proved it against his car, voice low, wrecked, “Yours, angel. But don’t forget—you’re mine too.”

You never forgot.

You just loved making him say it again. And again. And again.

XO

🔖

Knee-deep in the passenger seat and you're writing about yakuza!Sukuna, is it casual now? 😼

OH?? MY?? GOD??? COME BACK N GIVE ME A BIG SMOOCH AND THEN KEEP WRITING ABOUT THIS NEOWWWW 😈 Why can I perfectly imagine him as a big bad yakuza though - like the stereotypical ones from anime ahahah.

[db0xtae]

Winning the Breakup | Chapter 2

- Minho (Xo Kitty) X Reader

𝜗𝜚⋆ Summary : Y/N, a talented and athletic after an intense breakup, Y/N reluctantly agrees to fake date Minho, to make their exes jealous. What begins as a mutual arrangement soon turns complicated when their fake relationship starts to feel all too real. With humor, bickering, and tender moments, Minho and Y/N's journey proves that sometimes the best way to heal from heartbreak is to allow yourself to fall in love.

𝜗𝜚⋆ Warnings : None

𝜗𝜚⋆ Word Count : 858

𝜗𝜚⋆ Chapters : 1

𝜗𝜚⋆ A/N : Hope you guys enjoy!!!

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Chapter 2: The Rules of Engagement

The next morning, Y/N regretted nothing—well, almost nothing. She wasn’t entirely sure agreeing to Minho’s plan was the best decision, but the image of Alex’s dumbfounded face as she and Minho danced at the social was enough to keep her second thoughts at bay.

It was Saturday morning, and the KISS campus was quiet. Most students were either still asleep or lounging in their dorms, but Y/N was already up and dressed, sitting at a small café table in the library courtyard. She was sipping on a latte and going over her notes for an upcoming quiz when a familiar, annoyingly confident voice interrupted her focus.

“Morning, darling,” Minho said, sliding into the chair across from her.

Y/N didn’t even look up. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? We’re dating now,” he said, leaning back in his chair with that smug grin she was already tired of seeing.

“Fake dating,” she corrected, finally meeting his eyes. “Let’s not forget the fake part.”

“Details,” Minho said, waving a hand dismissively. “Anyway, we need to set some ground rules.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Rules?”

“Obviously,” Minho replied, pulling out his phone. “If we’re going to pull this off, we need to be on the same page. Can’t have you ruining my image.”

She snorted. “Your image? Please, enlighten me.”

Minho ignored the jab, opening a notes app on his phone. “Rule one: public displays of affection. We’ll need to sell the relationship, so a little hand-holding, hugging, maybe the occasional kiss—”

“No,” Y/N cut him off, her tone firm. “We’re not kissing.”

He looked up, feigning disappointment. “You wound me. What, you think I’m a bad kisser?”

“I think I don’t want to catch whatever inflated ego disease you’re carrying,” she shot back, smirking when Minho gave an exaggerated gasp.

“Fine,” he relented, typing something into his phone. “No kissing…unless absolutely necessary.”

“There will be no ‘necessary,’” Y/N clarified.

Minho shrugged. “We’ll see. Rule two: we text daily. It doesn’t have to be anything deep, but it’ll look weird if we’re not in constant communication. People will notice.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “But no texting me at 2 a.m. with some nonsense about how amazing you are.”

“I would never,” Minho said, looking offended.

Y/N gave him a flat look.

“Okay, I would,” he admitted with a grin. “But I’ll restrain myself.”

“Good. Next?”

“Rule three: we go on at least one ‘date’ per week. People need to see us together outside of school events. And no ditching me halfway through because you get bored,” he added, pointing at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Like I’d be the one ditching.”

“Trust me, darling, I’m a delight,” Minho said, flashing his most charming smile.

“Stop calling me that,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Rule four,” Minho continued, ignoring her complaint. “We don’t tell anyone it’s fake. Not even our friends.”

Y/N hesitated. “Not even Kitty?”

“Especially not Kitty,” Minho said firmly. “She has the biggest mouth at KISS. She’d blow our cover in two seconds.”

“She’d probably make a PowerPoint about it,” Y/N murmured, earning a chuckle from Minho.

“Exactly. So, we keep it between us. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” she said reluctantly.

“Great,” Minho said, setting his phone down. “This is going to be fun.”

“Fun isn’t the word I’d use,” Y/N muttered, taking a sip of her latte.

By lunchtime, news of Y/N and Minho’s “relationship” had spread like wildfire. As they walked into the cafeteria together, side by side, the stares and whispers were impossible to ignore.

“You’d think people have never seen two attractive people together before,” Minho said, loud enough for the nearby tables to hear.

“Subtle,” Y/N muttered under her breath, elbowing him in the side.

“What? I’m just stating facts,” he said with a grin, guiding her to their usual table.

Kitty was already there, along with Dae, Yuri, and Q. The moment they sat down, Kitty leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Okay, spill,” she said. “How did this happen?”

Y/N opened her mouth, but Minho beat her to it.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, slinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “She couldn’t resist my charm.”

Y/N shoved his arm off. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“What’s there to regret, darling?” he teased, winking at her.

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “You two are…dating?”

“Yep,” Minho said confidently.

“Since when?” Dae asked, looking genuinely confused.

“A few days ago,” Y/N lied smoothly. “It just…happened.”

Kitty frowned, clearly trying to piece things together. “But you’ve always been at each other’s throats. What changed?”

Minho leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “She finally realized how amazing I am.”

“I realized you’d never shut up about it if I didn’t give you a chance,” Y/N shot back, earning a laugh from Q.

“This is going to be interesting,” Yuri said, smirking as she sipped her drink.

That evening, Minho texted her.

Minho: “Tomorrow. 2 p.m. Meet me at the park.”

Y/N: “Why?”

Minho: “Date #1, duh. Don’t bail on me.”

Y/N sighed, tossing her phone onto her bed. She had a feeling this was going to be a long few weeks.

[http-tempted]

I’ve been out a thousand ways. Choked a few lot of hearts as many days, oh, I wish I was nice enough to wear them on my sleeves.

But all I see is mourning and hopeful yearns on my screen. What can I say? Is it too late to say that we are young to make plans of green? Or too early to say that I’d get bored after making you mine?

Oh, this game—the cruel game of collecting men’s hearts like gems, so I can look back at the shine I left behind my shoulder.

Knowing my presence was played how you wanted me to be, curated a perfect girl for you, just when you thought you had it all, whispering to the dead nights in the witch’s hour,

“She’s a dream.”

You were not wrong.

After years, still got your hope peak in the beep from your phone, still got you acting like the kids you hate these days, still got you waiting, looking out of your window.

And what do you see, darlin’?

You don’t see me.

xo—————————-xo