#she experiences genuine happiness when other people are happy

[strangerwheelerthings]

I don't know if it's because it's been too long since I last watched Stranger Things, but I genuinely don't remember a happy Nancy scene post Barb...

This is such an interesting thing to think about because it's not as if Nancy looks miserable in most scenes of the show. In fact, she often looks determined and occasionally excited even. She has smiled before, but excitement about progress in a case, something she's passionate about because of Barb, isn't necessarily happiness. So this is something you have to look beyond face value for.

Nancy suffers quite plainly with survivors guilt and with a lot of trauma. She isn't healed from what happened in Season One, and I don't think she even let herself really start until after season three. Not with so much unresolved. She also hasn't had the help she really needs either. However, Nancy has experienced happiness since Barb's death. There are moments she forgets. It’s only healthy that she's not so obessively mired in her misery that she can't have moments to breathe.

It's been a while since I've watched the show, too, so I can't say if there's a Jancy scene where she's just happy. Their get-together scene was very in the middle of Barb trauma, the wake up together scene is very stressed and rushed. Jonathan has been good to her, but all their scenes are a very mixed bag of emotions with happiness not really being the predominant one.

There are three small scenes from season four that come to mind. The first is Lucas's game. Nancy is quite genuinely proud and happy for Lucas in that moment of success. It's such a small shot, but it's one of a few scenes that show us that Nancy cares a whole lot more about Mike’s friends than she ever says.

The second is the scene with the dog, right before the plot plummets Nancy right back into her guilt complex. She's starting to live, and she lets herself be, for just a second, when she steps away from a murder investigation to just play with a dog. This is the first real evidence that her passion for her work is not just about Barb anymore.

The last scene is the officially friends scene with Robin. It's simply a moment of establishing connection, and both girls are just so warm in that moment. It's another sign of Nancy starting to actually heal. She's happy to have a new girl friend, not scared or guilty like she would have been before.

#yeah I gotta be honest I dont know if she had any really happy scenes in season 3 #i know season 2 is sorely lacking #as much as I love exploring Nancy’s trauma she is so much more complex than that #she does see the good in her life even if it's sometimes hard for her to accept #you're right though in that the show doesn't really let her be happy the way i wish she could be #thinking of some scenes took a second as i tried to determine when she even could have been during the seasons #the source of Nancy’s worst pain is also the source of her moments of joy #care for other people #Nancy sees the good in the world and she wants to protect it but she doesn't always feel worthy of taking it for herself #she experiences genuine happiness when other people are happy #and she has moments of pride and determination in season three #but season four really feels like the start of her taking some of that for herself #in the form of keeping robin close by #of stopping to talk to a dog #Robin is especially significant because she keeps her grounded in a moment where she very easily could have been pulled under with - #- reimerging trauma because of Fred and Vecna #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #jancy #ronance #stranger things

[angelastrology]

.

#im shocked beyond words that my ex messaged me today #ik its mercury retrograde and everything but of all people i didn't think she'd reach out after i stopped replying a year and a half ago #we weren't on bad terms or anything and we continued casually keeping in contact platonically after the break up #but when i entered a new relationship i just thought it was best to keep a distance #we did have a very intense relationship and a terrible break up in the span of 3 years #like if you look up the definition of a toxic karmic relationship our picture should show up #and in the long text she messaged me now she basically apologizes for having hurt me #which she already had done back then but this was a more detailed apology somehow #im not sure how to feel about this but it sure is overwhelming #i met her when i was 16 and we heavily shaped each other's formative years #trauma bonded too #its just a lot #but i do think fondly of her and i no longer resent her for anything #i just genuinely hope she finds happiness and love in whatever form it might be #i think that's what i will tell her #she also said that i was probably the closest to unconditional love she will ever experience.. which im not sure how to feel about either #i'm happy that she thinks positively of me and i know i gave everything i had to offer in that relationship #but i genuinely want her to feel happy and loved again

[graysongraysoff]

lmao well. my boss (who i really, really like) just called to tell me she’s accepted a new job. so. cue the fucking horrors ig.

#having war flashbacks to being hired at my last job by a bunch of people who seemed pretty cool and then having them all leave #within the next like two years #you ever forget you had a like borderline traumatic experience and then get triggered lol #like obviously i'm happy for her!!! i genuinely think she deserves the world #and her new job is going to be closer to home and i can only assume it'll pay more which she absolutely deserves #like she's been my boss for less than a year and has shown me how incredible it can be to work somewhere when people care about you #but it is just like #bringing up very unpleasant memories of every other time i've gotten a new boss #and i don't want to go through that again #work tag

[smelly-fozzy]

How do they expect you to get job experience if they won’t give you the job? Like- they can’t train you after they hire you? You already have to go through training and rules, so can’t that be how you get experience??

#I get it if it’s a doctor or rocket scientist they want to make sure they’re hiring someone who knows what to do #but a craft store?? #why is it so hard #costumer service is extremely draining- but I shouldn’t need ten plus years of experience to work a cash register #“Nobody wants to work” Buddy we are trying. Just give us a chance #growing up it was “you have to go to college to be happy”. Now it’s “you have to go learn a trade”. Both put you in debt. Both nowadays lea #to the same exact cash register I could’ve worked at without putting myself in debt. #all for seven dollars an hour. #Y’know my grandma is seventy five and she’s only been retired for fifteen years. She worked a suck ass job that albeit has great retirement #but at what cost? She wasn’t there while my mom was growing up. She wasted most of her life at a desk. She hadn’t been out of state until #six years ago. So yeah she can do those things now. But she should’ve been able to back then. #people should retire in their thirties. I am slowly watching my parents kill themselves for other people who don’t care. #also the fact that people in costumer service seem so genuinely surprised when you’re nice to them???

[nellasbookplanet]

I've been thinking about Mollymauk, as I'm periodically wont to do, and the fandom discussion about him as a moral compass. Because the interesting thing here is, Molly wasn’t a very moral character. He was an unrepentant scammer. He had no respect for interpersonal boundaries and would deliberately push and break them. Generally, he was an asshole. As far as actually having a strong moral stance I would say Fjord was the standout of early m9, and to some extent Beau.

But here’s the thing: almost all of early m9 thought of themselves as horrible people. Fjord had been bullied so bad growing up that he still dealt with self-hate from it, and now suffered from survivor's guilt to boot. Caleb had killed his own parents. Beau, while she hated her dad, also had internalized self-hate and on some level thought she’d been such a shitty daughter she deserved his treatment. Nott was stuck in a body she considered monstrous. Yasha had survivor's guilt and knew she’d done bad things in her blank spots. Even when they did good, they didn’t think of themselves as good. Most of them were suspicious and asocial and faced the world with the same kind of distrust they expected to be (and were experienced in being) met with. (Jester was an exception, an agent of neither good nor bad but of amoral chaos)

But Molly was different. He was outspoken about loving life and people. He wanted to spread joy, even to people he didnt know or had even met: he slipped coin into people's pockets, hid a silver in a tree just so some stranger would one day be happy to find it. He openly cared for the party early on; was one of the first to step in and help Caleb when he went catatonic in battle. Above all, Molly had rules: where everyone else would agonize over what was the right or wrong or smart thing to do, Molly loudly proclaimed we don't leave people behind, and we leave every place better than we found it.

But the thing about Molly’s rules was, they were largely a cover. While the rest of the m9 thought they were bad even as they did good, Molly thought of himself as good even as he did bad. He scammed people, but made it a good and memorable experience, therefore thinking he gave more than he took. He charmed Nott and Fjord without consent, and when confronted would claim it was to help them. Out of the group, Beau saw through this, not because she was a better person but because she was a cynic. She saw that he caused harm, just as she did, and was personally affronted that he still thought of himself as good and tried to leave people happy, whereas she deliberately left every place worse than she found it.

I see Molly as a moral compass of the group not because he was actually any more moral than them, but because they made him their template. He was joy and brightness and he died trying to save them because it was the right thing to do, and they all chose to honor him by emulating his rules more than Molly himself ever did, because to them it was more than just a cover, backed up by genuine moral thought and discussion rather than small gestures. He taught them that it was possible to be kind of a shit person and still be good, to still love yourself and others. The idealized Molly they created never existed, and finally died for good when they resurrected him in the end and were met with a stranger, who they welcomed with the same love and care they would've expected Molly to show them.

#critical role #cr2 #mollymauk tealeaf #long post #i know we're all thinking about a different dead pc today but this has been on my mind for a while and i wanted to write it out #i feel like discussions of molly tend to get stuck in two camps: #either 'he was a good kind and perfect moral compass' (lol no) #or: 'he was an asshole and you're all delusional' (also no) #molly was as much of an asshole as the rest of the m9 #but he thought of himself as capable of being a good person and doing good things #and that counted for something even if he backed it up with empty gestures and platitudes bc there WAS genuine care in it #and when the m9 chose to emulate it it was no longer empty #nella talks cr

[kinopio-writes]

Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?

Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)

I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!

A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.

Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.

Words: 2,328 (edited the end a bit because it didn’t sit right with me)

Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam

———

Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader

• ha, this man is also sensitive himself

• well, sensitive about himself

• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive

• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam

• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours

• you easily know what makes someone tick

• you’re selfless

• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize

• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves

• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better

• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable

• you’re everything he isn’t

• because you fit in Heaven perfectly

• you deserve to be there

• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)

• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself

• and he’s envious of it

• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar

• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you

• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)

• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to

• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say

• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)

• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often

• he definitely makes fun of you for it

• and also mocks you

• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too

• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset

• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!

• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more

• and he…doesn’t like it

• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you

• and the fact that you hog all the attention

• and the fact that people see you as perfect…

• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?

———

Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.

You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.

When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.

HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)

Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.

You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.

Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.

You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.

SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)

You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.

DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)

You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.

i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)

When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.

Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.

Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.

You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.

•••

“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”

Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.

When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”

Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.

“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.

“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”

You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.

Not as if Adam had much to say about that…

You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!

You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.

It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.

“What’s this?”

“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”

“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”

“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.

•••

Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.

You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.

He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.

But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.

Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.

Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.

As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.

You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.

The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.

You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.

He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”

You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”

“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”

You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.

Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.

You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”

His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.

He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.

“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.

“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”

“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”

“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.

“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.

While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.

You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.

Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.

“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”

“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”

You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.

That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.

Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.

“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.

He…didn’t think you could cry.

Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?

So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.

You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.

You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.

You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.

No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.

No one had ever let you be sad.

Adam heard you sob.

Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?

But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.

So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.

Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.

The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.

Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”

Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.

“Yeah, whatever…”

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #kinopiowrites

[bratzforchris]

Five Love Languages, M. Sturniolo

Summary: The five love languages look a little different for Matt and his girlfriend, but that's always okay<3

Pairing: Matt x neurodivergent fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of autistic burnout, this is entirely self indulgent

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I think we need more representation around here, especially for different neurotypes and disabilities <3 This fic is based off of this Instagram post :) I am autistic and have ADHD, and this was so much fun to write--if you'd like to see the same thing but for another boy, drop a request in my inbox!

Infodumping༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

“Matt, come here! Now!” You squealed from your shared bedroom, your joy infectious as you bounced up and down on the bed happily. 

You could hear the sound of your boyfriend running up the stairs, followed by him bursting through the door, slightly out of breath. “What’s up, honey?” he asked with a smile, noting your happy stims and luminous grin. 

“Taylor’s going on tour!” You giggled, shaking your hands in small fists as a way to release all the happy, all-consuming energy that came with engaging in a special interest. 

“Oh really?” Matt asked genuinely, sitting beside you on the bed. “Tell me more, hun!” he encouraged you, kissing your cheek gently so as not to get in the way of your movements. 

“It’s going to be a tour where she goes through every era,” You smiled, happily bouncing on the bed. “We have to go.”

“We will,” Matt rubbed your knee softly. “As many dates as you want.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up at the thought of getting to experience your special interest with your favorite person. 

“Really, honey. What album are you most excited to hear?”

Matt looked at you kindly, his eyes shining with love. He absolutely loved watching how excited you got over your special interests. You had been a huge Taylor Swift fan for over ten years now, and the brunette wished that he could bottle up your happiness whenever you engaged with her music. He would almost equate your joy to that of sunshine, baby animals, and glitter. Where some people thought you were “just a fangirl” or “too obsessed”, Matt loved listening when you infodumped about Taylor Swift. The sheer dedication someone could have to a singular topic was beyond impressive and adorable to him. 

“That’s really hard, Matt,” You whined playfully, still happily stimming and flapping your hands. “I really like Lover a lot because it reminds me of you, but I also want to hear reputation because it’s just so iconic. Like the whole snake aesthetic after the Kim and Kayne thing was just perfect. But then I also love folklore because of the love triangle thing and also because it’s just so experimental. Did you know that there was only eleven months between Lover and folklore?” You asked your boyfriend, becoming more animated as you spoke. 

“I didn’t know that!” Matt responded, clearly very invested in the conversation. “Here hun, why don’t you play with this instead? I don’t want you to hurt your wrists, sweetie.” he explained softly, passing you a fidget toy that was laying on your nightstand.

You blushed as you took the toy from him, not even realizing just how bad your wrists were hurting. “You’re the best boyfriend ever, do you know that?” You asked him, slowly crawling across the bed and into his lap. 

“I think I had an idea or two.” Matt smirked. 

You began to play with the fidget toy with one hand and Matt’s hair with the other. You still felt the need to stim, your nervous system buzzing with happiness. Whenever you felt the need to fidget, you loved to mess with your boyfriend’s hair, and he always let you. The way his soft, brown curls slid through your fingers and the way his natural highlights hit the light gave you such good sensory feelings. 

“Thank you for listening to me…I know it’s a lot sometimes.” You whispered shyly, hiding your face against his hoodie. 

Matt rubbed circles on your back as you played with his hair. “I love listening to you talk Taylor, baby. I think it’s interesting.” he grinned. 

“You do?”

“I do,” he booped your nose. “I think it’s cute too.”

“Do you think she’s gonna go era by era?” You asked, still too excited to focus on much else besides your special interest. “I hope so. That would be so much fun.”

“You’re gonna have to teach me everything,” Matt giggled. “I can’t be one of those boyfriends who goes and looks miserable.”

You squealed, untangling your hands from his hair and planting a kiss on his lips. “Oh hun, you’re gonna be the most educated boy in the stadium. You’ll know more Taylor lore than Taylor

Parallel Play ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

You sighed happily, pulling your blanket closer around yourself and taking a sip of your coffee. Thankfully, Matt had a completely free day with nothing to film, which meant you could just enjoy each other’s company. These days were few and far between, but you treasured every one because of how unmasked and free they allowed you to be. 

You sat your mug down on the coffee table and picked up the yarn and crochet hook you had set out earlier. Matt sat at the other end of the couch, feet in your lap as he focused intently on his book. You felt your heart swell with love as you took a peek at the cover, and noted that it was a memoir about understanding and aiding your partner in their unmasking journey.

Matt was by far the best boyfriend you had ever had when it came to accepting and loving you, neurodivergence and all. Finding a man who didn’t fetishize or infantilize being an autistic woman was hard, but the brunette was a diamond in the rough. Like right now for example, when he was spending his Saturday morning that he had off learning about how to understand the way your brain worked.

You blushed and picked up your crocheting, beginning to work on the blanket you had started earlier in the week. You had picked a chenille yarn in pretty pastel colors, and the rainbow of yarn, as well as its soft feel made you smile. You began to crochet, taking a peek at Matt every so often. Occasionally, your boyfriend would look up at the same time and catch your eye, sending you a soft smile before going back to reading. 

The silence wasn’t awkward, nor was it uncomfortable. Matt had a way of making you feel loved and safe, even without speaking the words out loud. Having grown up with his own mental health struggles around anxiety, your boyfriend understood the importance of “being alone together” and just existing in each other's orbit, without the need for words. 

“Thank you.” You whispered shyly after about thirty minutes of silence. 

“For what?” Matt asked you, closing the book and setting it on the pillow next to him. 

You sat down your craft as well and moved to snuggle into his arms, angling yourself so that you could hear the beat of his heart. “For just letting me be me.”

The brunette buried his nose in your hair, speaking softly against his head. “I love you.”

“You just let me be and we can do our own things without feeling awkward or weird,” You explained. “It’s comforting…and it makes me fall more in love with you.” You giggled softly, a blush creeping up your neck.

Matt held you closer to his body, arms wrapped around you protectively. “You’re perfect, baby. All of you.”

As you snuggled further into his hold, the two of you fell into companionable silence again, enjoying each other’s company. It really was the little moments like these that made you realize just how lucky you were to be in such an accepting, caring relationship. 

Support Swapping ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Over the past year of dating Matt, you had fallen into a wonderful routine with your boyfriend, one that allowed you to distribute your spoons more easily and allowed him a slight break from his anxiety, especially socially. 

“Support Swapping” as you two called it was great help and was arguably one of the best parts of your relationship. Being autistic and having ADHD, you tended to struggle with executive functioning, always focusing on the wrong things instead of doing what you needed to maintain a healthy lifestyle. If you were hyperfixated on something, your mind could block out all reminders and signals from your body to eat, drink, rest, and use the bathroom. Once you finally realized how depleted you were, it would inevitably lead to an autistic meltdown because of the overwhelming sensory urges of hunger, exhaustion, and thirst. 

Matt, on the other hand, oftentimes struggled with parts of his job that came along with being a content creator. As much as he loved being in front of the camera and giving the fans funny content, he despised writing and sending emails. Nick could edit out anything that made him seem a little too weird or awkward; he couldn’t control how the recipient would take his email. You however, had loved writing ever since you were a little girl and actually took great pride in being able to communicate effectively through the written word. 

When you had voiced these concerns with each other and how they made both of you feel emotionally, it was clear there was only one option, and that was to support each other, just like you were on this particular day. It was nearing dinnertime by this point, the sun setting over the LA skyline as you tapped at the computer in Matt’s office. You had been hunched over the computer all day, filling out paperwork and emails for collabs that Matt had to do. You typed up all the notes for him, pasting them into a document, where he could then sign his name and send them off. Between your love of the written word and routine, writing the same thing over and over again was like a weird therapy for you. 

“Sweetheart?” You heard a soft knock at the door before Matt entered the room. 

“One sec.” You hummed, eyes still trained on the screen. “I’m almost done.”

“Babe,” Matt spun you around in the office chair so that you were facing him. “I love you and I adore you for doing this for me, but it’s almost seven. Time for dinner.” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your lips. 

“Oh,” You blushed, not realizing how much time had gone by. Just then, your stomach rumbled, making Matt give you a knowing look. “This is why we help each other and remind each other.” You snorted, facepalming yourself softly. 

Matt kissed your forehead gently, helping you out of the chair and guiding you towards the kitchen with a soft hand on the small of your back. Before you two left the office, though, he sneakily closed out your computer, making sure you would spend the rest of the evening resting. Your heart swelled when you walked into the kitchen and saw your and Matt’s small dining table completely laid with dinner and drinks. 

“You didn’t.” You smiled, turning towards your boyfriend. 

“I did,” Matt picked you up and kissed you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I know how distracted you can get when you’re working, sweetheart.”

You blushed as Matt sat you down at the table, knowing he was absolutely right. “You take care of me so well.” 

Matt rubbed your knuckles softly as he sat down in his own chair. “That’s what a partnership is for,” he smiled, the adorable crinkles around his eyes that you loved oh-so-much on full display. “We take care of each other.”

"Please Crush My Soul Back Into My Body" ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

You sighed, growing restless as you shifted around in the backseat of the van. The triplets were filming their weekly Friday car video, and you had decided to join on this particular day. You absolutely loved playing Over/Under, but the effects of the evening were beginning to wear on you. Between Chris frequently changing topics to almost anything that wasn’t Over/Under and Nick’s yelling, you were starting to become overstimulated. 

You shifted, trying to pull your hoodie off since it was starting to irritate you, only to loudly smack your arm on the hard, plastic door of the car. All three boys looked your way, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asked with a chuckle, but his eyes held a concerned look. 

“Mhm,” You nodded, trying not to let your frustration show. “Just a little too hot.”

“We should finish up. Nick’s second timer has already gone off.” Matt turned in his seat and stretched, trying to discreetly end the video. 

Matt knew you almost as well, if not better than you knew yourself, and he could tell that you weren’t super comfortable, despite your best efforts to hide it. Even he had to admit that Chris’s frequent change of topics and Nick’s yelling was getting to be a lot, so he couldn’t even imagine how you were feeling. Luckily, his brothers seemed to take the hint, and the boys swiftly ended the video, with you whispering a little ‘bye’ in the background. 

As your boyfriend began to try towards the triplets' LA home, you shoved your earbuds into your ears, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the window. You were overstimulated and exhausted, and the next person to add to sensory overload was going to catch it if you didn’t try to calm yourself. You were so caught up in the awful feelings taking over your body and your anxiety that you didn't even notice that Matt had pulled into the garage and Nick and Chris had vacated the car until your boyfriend turned in his seat, patting your knee. 

“You okay, baby?” he asked softly. 

“No…” You mumbled, trying not to choke on tears. “Too much.”

Matt understood what you meant and gently helped you out of the car and into the house without another word. On the way to your shared bedroom, he quietly shushed Nick and Chris, mumbling a little ‘overstimulated’. Both brothers were aware of you being autistic and immediately piped down, silently feeling terrible for you. 

Your boyfriend sat you down on the edge of the bed, handing you a fidget toy from off your nightstand. Despite the discomfort you were experiencing, you felt your heart swell as you watched Matt gently take off your socks and shoes, before standing up and looking at you. 

“Do you want your headphones?” he asked you in sign language. 

You could’ve cried right then and there because of your sheer love for Matt. Ever since you two had started dating and you had explained that you used ASL to communicate when you were feeling overstimulated, the brunette had taken it upon himself to learn as much of the language as possible. He was still rather beginner level, but it was the thought behind it that made you want to squeeze him and pepper his face with kisses. 

You nodded to his question, and Matt swiftly replaced your earbuds with better quality, noise canceling headphones. You sighed softly at the relief, standing up and wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's waist. “Thank you,” You signed against his chest. “I love you.”

Matt hugged you back gently, almost like he was scared you would break. “Pajamas?” he asked again. 

You nodded once more, and your boyfriend gently helped you into soft, sensory approved pajama pants and one of his faded, soft shirts. You quietly got curled up under your weighted blanket as Matt bustled around the room, getting himself ready for bed, but the pressure wasn’t enough. You needed something more. As your boyfriend crawled into bed, you rolled over onto your side, tapping his shoulder gently. 

“Will you lay on me?” You signed. 

Matt smiled, kissing your forehead gently. He grabbed the remote and turned on your comfort show on the television, before laying his head softly on your stomach. You smiled and sighed contently at the feeling, running your fingers through his soft, brown curls. That was one of your favorite stims, and the feeling of Matt’s pressure, combined with stimming and noise canceling headphones, was slowly calming you down. 

Over the hour that followed, Matt softly laid more and more of his body weight over top of you. He knew that deep pressure therapy helped you regulate your nervous system, especially when you were overstimulated. If some extra love and cuddles would help, he wasn’t going to be the one to complain. Sure enough, by the time he looked up at you, you were fast asleep, a happy little smile on your lips. 

Penguin Pebbling ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Matt looked over at you from his position on the couch as you giggled, happily kicking your feet. “What’s so funny?” “Check your Tiktok.” You laughed, a happy little smile taking up residence on your face as you stimmed. 

Your boyfriend smiled at whatever antics you had going on, migrating to his phone. You let out a little giggle as you watched Matt’s facial expressions change, from that of confusion, to that of happiness. 

“You really sent me one hundred and fifty different cat videos?” he asked, though his tone was playful. 

“They reminded me of you,” You whined, throwing a stuffed animal at him. “You’re the one who always sends people images of sleeping kittens and says ‘that’s me’.”

Matt chuckled as he sat watching every single video. He knew how important sharing was to you, especially when it had to do with the people you cared about. “Penguin pebbling” as it was called, was the act of unconventional gift giving as a sign of affection. Your boyfriend absolutely loved when you did this, because it was pure love. It wasn’t big, expensive gifts or luxury vacations. It was the smallest, most accessible thing in the world, yet you took time out of your day to do it. 

“Have I ever told you I love you?” the brunette asked, sliding onto the floor beside you and kissing your cheek. 

“Maybe once or twice.” You grinned. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniee @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @mggcult @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @aemrsy @billsslutt

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[sunboki]

— KEEP IT BUSINESS. a Lee Minho fiction

Lee Minho x f. reader

TROPE. best friends to lovers, coworkers! au, first kiss? au (hehe), domestic/soft minho, fluff

WARNINGS. cursing, making-out, inexperienced kissing, annoying coworkers

WORD COUNT. 6.9k words

AUG'S NOTES. so glad to have finally completed this!! it’s been rotting in my drafts for weeks and i just had to write a happy ending for these two grandparents 🫶🏼

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. Life can be a mess, and with you and Minho as the only two singles in your office building, an impertinent Valentine’s day leaves no choice but to make a pact.

or alternatively :

If we’re still single by twenty-five, we date each other.

Four years.

It’s been four years since you first met Lee Minho, working with him at the same company, becoming the best of friends. And yet, the same dread lay specially reserved for the same season.

The season of love, or, to most people, Valentine’s day.

.

.

.

Alarm set for 6:30AM. Work from 8:30AM to 4PM. Every day of the week, every year.

Initially, the experience was relatively enjoyable. It paid well, wasn’t too harsh on hours, and other coworkers minded their own business (at least in your case) without being a pain.

Then the loneliness set in.

It was subtle at first, a tiny pang in your heart when you returned home to a dark, cold apartment while others would be greeted by a pet, a loved one.

So when Lee Minho, a new member of the company assigned as your apprentice came along, you tend to think meeting him was, in a weird, spontaneous manner, meant to be.

And four years later, when he had grown from that apprentice-ship and became established as an employee, you still hold onto that “meant to be” philosophy.

Busied chatter fills the downstairs cafe, familiar faces alike brimming with conversation, breath coffee-stained.

Peering across the various assortment of tables, you spot him, two identical cups in each hand, wearing that bemused expression as usual.

At this point, Minho has memorized your order by heart, arriving early after his daily stop by the nearby animal shelter (whose manager knew by heart). Most morning’s you’d await a picture of the newest addition to the feline section, a photo he proudly shows off like his own trophy.

You’re genuinely surprised his residence isn’t a constantly growing cat-kingdom.

“Looking forward to it?”

Brows furrowing, you sidle to his right and dish the warm beverage into your grasp.

“Looking forward to wha— wait wait don’t say it. I want to pretend it doesn’t exist.” Hurriedly waving your hands, Minho cracks a grin.

The cursed word in question being: Valentine’s day.

You can’t say you hate it. It never did anything to you, nor did it leave you heartbroken. To put it simply, the office over the first few weeks of February was a close-resembling spinoff to Singles Inferno except, much spicier and way too inappropriate in broad daylight.

Meaning, for the past five years (four joined by Minho), merely mentioning said season of love urges impending dread and deep frowns.

“All I’m gonna say is I would not want to be a doctor over Valentines,” You wince, sipping the warm drink with a squeamish face.

Minho sighs vehemently, propping an elbow against the computer cart behind him.

“I bet you could witness more vibrators in that hospital than in an Adam and Eve,” He grumbles, watchful eyes surveying the daily crowd occupying tables and chairs in the building’s downstairs café.

Slamming a fist to your chest to correct your breathing, your eyes practically bulge from your skull, evidently caught of guard.

Leave it to Minho to make you suffocate before your shift even begins.

8am is prime time for socialization—otherwise before Mrs. Song decides to unleash her wrath on newbies. She has good intentions, sure, but let’s just say most anyone was petrified upon first meeting her.

Luckily, your department with Hyeongmi, Minho, and Felix was secluded on the far side of the building, leaving you out of the woman’s hair, free to work as you please.

Yet, Mrs. Song wasn’t the problem, not when it came down to the month of February.

Your phone’s alarm signaling to start moving momentarily wards off the thought, and either of you begin toward the elevator, flat expressions describing the sinking feeling better than words.

Back at it, again.

Because by your lunch break, you can’t fathom entering the cafeteria, not if it costs you your life.

Everywhere you look someone is making out, confessing their love, or, worst you’ve seen it all day, genuinely fucking in the bathrooms.

Perhaps you’d send Minho a text you’re making an escape by eating in the office, invite him up for some solace.

Except, it seems he had the same idea.

Scrambling through the door, you enter at the same time, heaving sighs of exasperation upon securing much needed privacy.

Making prolonged eye contact, your thoughts come spilling out.

“If I witness another make-out in the stairwell I’m ending it all.”

“Boxes of chocolates are officially ruined for me now.”

Four years and it never gets old. Same old painful memories, same old excitement for the day to come and go. And it’s not like you hate the holiday itself, you two just.. heavily dislike the immense bucketloads of PDA and office hookups that come along with it.

Not-so-gracefully flopping down onto your chairs, you practically shovel food down, gladly accepting the few rolls of gimbap Minho places onto your plate.

Customary sharing. You give him some of your food, he gives you some of his.

In those brief minutes of silence do you get the opportunity to fully comprehend your own thoughts, prior to Minho clearing his throat.

“Drinks at my place?”

Your grown loudly in agreement.

Minho : Okay, I’m leaving, follow me in thirty minutes

Glancing up, you watch your counterpart lift his brows your way and call out his departure, sifting through the doorway, cross body bag thumping against jeans.

Hyeongmi was downstairs, which, as awful as it sounded, was great not having to endure her nosiness.

This was how you stayed unbothered. He’d leave, and thirty minutes later you would too in order to (for now) avoid Mrs. Song (and Hyeongmi’s) pestering.

It couldn’t have taken the clock longer to reach 4:30PM. So by the time the beloved minute hand struck 4:29 you practically lurched from your seat, almost tasting sweet freedom before a face showed up right before you slipped through the exit.

Hyeongmi’s face.

What she’s talking about you can’t seem to understand, mind trained on escaping and escaping alone.

“C’mon now, you two are the only two in this building without a date. It’s been four years, Y/n! You need to let loose!” Hyeongmi emphasizes, dizzying your head the longer she shakes your shoulders.

“You do realize everyone has the hots for him but that he only hangs out with you, right? I’m telling you, it’s a sign—“

“Sorry Hyeongmi, I really have to go-“

Fastening your bag tigher across your body, you make a mad-dash as far away as possible, pretending to ignore the “use protection!” she shouted before the crisp evening breeze nipped your nose.

Use protection my butt, you grovel, ushering the scarf further above your chin as if to secure as much warmth possible.

She doesn’t know anything, not about how you took him under your wing as your apprentice the first year he joined, not about how much Minho loves cats, or how the keychain on that crossbody bag of his is a keychain you bought for him.

Simply placing it, she’s a person lead by the assumptions of others and adopting them as her own.

It irritates you.

Veering to your right, you thank his decision to house nearby, arriving at the foot of his porch after a mere ten-minute walk.

Delivering a few knocks on the townhome’s doorway, you note the paint chipping, colorful exterior worn from the sun’s rays.

Everything from the few cracks in the sidewalk to the relatively invisible stain of coffee on his doorknob lay memorized by frequency—his property second nature to you.

“Never have I hated being single this much,” You whine, slumping onto his couch after hurling your bag atop a hook in the foyer.

And despite the lack of response, you can tell Minho heard you. The faint, breathy chuckle enough evidence of his presence.

Perched on a chair he’d likely dragged from the kitchen, a feline companion occupies his lap, both comfortably relaxing on the patio, wine glass in hand.

Accordingly arranged on the countertop is another glass (you presume as yours), that you pour the vinegar-tinged substance into.

“I mean.” Slightly struggling to haul a neighboring chair to his side and simultaneously avoid splashing wine everywhere, you eventually find an equilibrium.

“It’s not like I asked to be single, I’m just too busy to consider a relationship, y’know?”

Minho absentmindedly hums, urging you to take a much-needed sip of the orchid-colored liquid.

Finally, you sigh out the last of your evening’s thoughts.

“..Hyeongmi caught me on the way out.”

Nor does this occasion need a reply either, the man’s suppressed giggle suitable enough.

“Mm.. I’ve got an idea.”

Carefully allowing the elongated glass to clink atop a translucent table, you cross and uncross your legs, welcoming the rustle of life around you into your eardrums, easing the cluttered space of your brain.

“Shoot.”

He clicks his tongue, gaze flitting to the emerging moon overhead.

“If we’re still single by twenty-five, we date each other.“

Making a surprised sound to yourself, you break into unadulterated laughter, about to call him hilarious before taking into account this is Minho you’re referring to, and the likelihood he’s joking on any matter is unlikely.

Sure it sounds cliché, but it’s Minho, why not?

…And perhaps that decision was made with a few glasses of wine in play.

“I’m in.” You grin, returning his outstretched hand by bumping your glasses before downing the remaining gulp, cheeks aglow, alcohol ridding your breath a distasteful stench.

Tipsy. Minho is charming normally, but especially when he’s tipsy.

He’s got this way of speaking that could get any unsuspecting girl reaching to unzip his pants in a second, sultry, half-lidded eyes drinking the person in front of him, talking like he has sugar lining his lips.

When Minho is tipsy, he’s tempting. You didn’t need four years to teach you that.

That, and the spare pajama set folded in his top drawer reserved solely for you on nights like this—too gone to go home.

Although, as you rise to your feet and head to the bathroom, pulling said silk pajama shirt over your head, Hyeongmi’s words reverberate again.

You do realize everyone has the hots for him but that he only hangs out with you, right?

Hm. Minho was always a recluse though. And with your history, obviously he’d have some liking for you.

It’s been four years, Y/n! You need to let loose!

Turning to stare at yourself in the mirror, you sulk, head hanging low.

What if you did something tonight? Something risky, something testing the limits this friendship borderlines. You’re both drunk, likely willing.

Then again, does Minho want this too? Did he ever intend to “let loose”?

Anxiety plagues you, hurriedly scurrying your pants over your legs and exiting to find Minho still seated in the same spot, appearing all the more tempting without having to do a thing.

You blame the alcohol.

Stamping forward as if you prepared a speech, you stop just behind his chair, mustering any ounce of liquid courage manageable.

“Minho.”

He grunts.

“You’re really pretty.”

Let loose. This is letting loose when it comes to Minho.

What, you thought you were gonna fuck? Yeah, that’s a funny one.

Winding himself around to see you, his lips wind into a sweet smile, urging you closer with a mere look before he reaches forward and taps your nose, dark eyes roaming your face.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty too.”

And perhaps, caught in a trance from his glittering stare, something did happen those four years you’ve been together after all.

You blame the alcohol.

The impulsive part about this “date at twenty-five” pact you had forgotten to consider was the fact both of you were twenty-four, meaning in less than a year whatever plan Lee Minho had stirred up after plenty glasses of wine would oil it’s gears into motion.

Thankfully Valentines comes and goes, and Summer creeps dangerously close, the longer hours of daylight and lingering sunshine enough to make every work-day feel extra laborious.

First day of summer, Minho texts you, asking if you want to join him on a walk.

Mind you, it’s 10AM in the morning, an hour you couldn’t fathom waking up at on the first day of summer.

You groan and flop back down, shutting off your phone and slamming the pillow over your head in a pitiful attempt at falling back asleep.

Only for your doorbell to ring twenty minutes later.

Over.

And over.

And over.

The urge to screech compels your barely-awake form, legs wobbling out of bed to feebly reach the doorway in a sleep-ridden haze.

Of course, lo and behold, Minho lies responsible, clad in running shoes, a pair of shorts, and a black nike zip-up.

He’s evidently pleased—whether from how disheveled you appear—or that he actually got you out of bed in the first place by the lingering smile tugging at his lips.

You hate to say it, but he’s annoyingly attractive, there’s no denying.

“Caught you at a bad time, hm?” He tips his head down to make eye-contact, peering through wild hair and lidded eyes at your half-alive self.

All you can manage out is a minuscule grunt, about to close the door before Minho jars his hand in, inviting himself inside much to your dismay.

Like instinct, he heads straight to your closet, surveying the chaos his insistent door-bell ringing caused before fetching a sweatshirt to pull over your head and a pair of socks from your drawer.

Though, as you wake up a tad bit more, you hurriedly keep him from putting your socks on for you as he bends down, shying away with an irritated whine.

“If this is what dating you is like I’m calling off the pact,” You mumble, stomping toward the door with Minho pushing you forwards without chance of escape.

He giggles, seeming to contain utmost glee witnessing your temper tantrum.

“Oh trust me sweetheart, the fun never ends.”

He’s hopeless too, apparently.

Lucky for you, your friend’s visits occurred sporadically, meaning the 10AM wake up calls weren’t a daily routine of headaches.

In contrast, summer passed by in a flash, and you were shoved head-first into a packed schedule for a second time as the autumn leaves shriveled into crisp browns and oranges.

Autumn was always welcomed. It meant the chilling cold was approaching, yes, but it also signified apple cider being added to the downstairs café menu and—on those especially chilly mornings—bundling your neck in the scarf Minho bought you last christmas.

As for him, he frequents pointed shoes and straight-legged pants, his fudge-colored hair perfectly complimented by pumpkin scented fragrances and dusky red backdrops.

Brisk mornings call for thinking. And as you walk, you come to the indefinite conclusion apple cider fits Minho. Sweet, but not saccharine. Warm to the touch, reminiscent with a charming aftertaste. A silhouette that comes and goes as it pleases, leaving soon enough for you to crave it back again.

Regarding summer, he was sort of like a beach day. A vacation in the midst of roaring deadlines, the comfortable lull of waves buzzing your mind into a hazy, salty escapade.

Although as December plucks each oak of its splendor, a call on Sunday morning truly marks the season of winter.

“..Y/n?” Minho murmurs, his voice groggy, hoarse. You make a sound of acknowledgment in response.

“I think I’m sick, can you drop off some meds at the door?”

Pressing your phone close to your ear, you debate on your desire to scold him, remind him each time he gets a winter cold he should dress warmer.

Of course, your lips stay shut (just like they always have for the past few years), and you reply with a “Be there soon, hang tight” before ending the call and gathering your belongings.

At the supermarket you check out seaweed soup, multivitamins, and allergy relief—things of which you hope will alleviate some of his symptoms.

Eternally grateful for the spare key you’d been given a while back, you enter the home, calling his name until an exasperated sign of life was heard (more like coughed) from the bedroom.

Inside lay Minho, a distressing array of tissues scattered in all directions, clustered beyond belief. His nose is soured pink from incessant stuffiness, lips cracked and dry. Dark circles sag beneath tired eyes, worn disposition evidence of his condition.

Quick on your feet, you scour the bathroom for a thermometer, the device’s loud beep signifying a blaring fever as you hover by his bedside.

Watching the bowl of instant soup spin aimless circles in the microwave, Minho’s call knocks you out of your daydream, worriedly padding to where he lays.

“Come here.”

You oblige, arriving to his right, about to ask the matter until his fingers link with your own, bringing the back of your hand to his jaw, resting there.

If you had been warm before, an entirely new definition to sweating has been reached at this point.

“You’re warm,” He whispers, rubbing his face against your hand like a needy cat wanting attention.

How unfair a human can be this round.

Practically bounding from the inside, you use the excuse of the microwave beeping to race off, hurriedly disappearing into the kitchen while remaining ignorant to the way Minho’s gaze follows you.

Returning with a soup platter meticulously carried between your tight grip, you sigh with relief upon sitting the steaming concoction down. Oh so slowly, a frown grows at your face upon noticing the expectant stare boring into your head.

“Yes?”

He juts out his bottom lip like a kicked puppy from your nonplussed tone, nudging the covers over himself till only those calculating eyes peek out.

“I’m not feeding you.”

Minho all but whimpers, and you suppress the urge to smother him with a pillow right then and there, hating how easily he sends goosebumps prickling the back of your neck, heat scalding your ears.

“No.”

“Y/n.”

You quite literally feel like the cruelest person in existence because why is he looking at you with that face, saying your name like that.

Grumbling beneath your breath, you begrudgingly collect a spoonful, bringing the utensil to his already pursed lips.

Spoonful by spoonful do you feed him as if he’s a dependent toddler, his satisfied hums earning a stern glare in return.

Only when he finishes eating do you get up, reprimanding him on taking his meds without much bite to your words.

“And don’t take too many of these, alright? If it gets really bad, call me again. Otherwise, try getting sleep.”

“Yes ma’am.”

And of course he has to be endearing.

Such a pain.

You’ll stop by tomorrow.

If Minho was the apple cider in autumn and beach days in the summer, he’s the prettiest of snowflakes in the midst of winter.

Memorable, fleeting. Melting in your touch.

The annual Christmas party the company hosts steadily approaches, your coworkers ringing your phone insistently with noticeable anticipation.

Though just like autumns chill, December soars past idly, reigning in a new year and a new digit added to twenty when asked your age.

Your winter premise only heightened the anxiety compiling in your gut, a feeling you hadn’t recognized until the following day—the first day back to work in January—dawned.

January 1st’s introduction means you’re both officially twenty-five, and you’re not sure if it’s the fact Minho hasn’t texted you yet or the valentines pact in itself setting you on edge.

What would it be like to date Minho? Would he kiss you, the same way male leads in K-dramas did? Hold you as you sleep, wish you goodbye with a kiss to your cheek?

The mere thought sends rivets of electricity blazing your fingertips, feeling like an utter fool for imagining such scenarios.

Now you’ve haunted yourself for worse, leaving only dread in tow.

Arriving at the office the first day back, you attempt at making yourself look as collected as possible, definitely not bothered.

Worse, the root of your troubles walks in unbothered as you’ve been trying to do for the past few hours, the room working in deplorable silence before a note wedges itself behind your keyboard, Minho slipping past in its wake.

It takes all your will-power to ignore the crumpled piece of paper as best as possible, your index itching to unravel whatever lay inside.

Noon is when you finally give in, lungs failing to produce air upon reading the contents, practically choking on nothing.

Come over to my place after work.

What is this, his way of declaring your pact officially in action? What if he calls it off, saying it was only a joke glasses of wine granted?

As Hyeongmi said before, everyone has the hots for him, so why don’t you? Why does the thought of him calling it off put you on edge?

Or maybe you do. Maybe you do have feelings for—

Woah. Stop there.

Luckily, your internal chess match went unnoticed, leaving only the buzzing of your ears and the ticking of the clock loud.

A certain fondness sat between either of you from the start, since becoming acquainted you’ve instantly clicked—sly remarks and playful teasing merely one more thing keeping you alive (minus coffee).

So when something crossing the border between friends and lovers arose, a sort of nervousness bubbled in your gut.

Minho was a shoulder to cry on for you, but was it like that?

You could rely and depend on each other whenever, but could those feelings ever turn into love?

Of course they could, and they likely would’ve if it weren’t for either of you being so work-oriented—making you even more worried.

Although, you can’t simply flee. You’re an adult.

..And Minho will find you in a heartbeat if you decide to run.

Never had you been hesitant to leave office until now, and trodding one foot in front of the other causes your legs to turn into jelly.

Minho probably isn’t this nervous. He’s probably in a great mood, treating the occasion like it’s just another casual day.

Never before was it difficult, whether difficult is referred to as placing a key in a doorway or walking inside, everything seems so.. eminent.

Like when you walk through this door, an entirely new side of Minho will show face. A romantic side of Minho.

Yet, there’s no rose petals lining the hallway, nor scented candles scattered here and there.

What is there to expect with dating in your twenties anyway?

Plus, Minho’s well, Minho. If he wanted to, he likely would’ve flat-out asked already.

Something you’re surprised about, however, is the triangular string decor swooping from the ceiling, the party hats by the sink, a single birthday candle placed in the center of a cupcake. Simple, perfect.

Although, the perfect factor came with the man responsible, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bracing himself on the countertop with a particular glow in his irises—whether it be from the lit candle you aren’t sure—that sets your stomach into a garden of butterflies.

A surprise party. He threw you a surprise birthday party.

And it’s then as enter the kitchen, brain barely recognizing each advance forward, you realize it.

You really, really want to date him.

And you really, really don’t want to screw this up.

Staring at each other, you rise up on your toes to place a careful, feather-light peck on the smooth, flushed skin of his cheek.

Slowly, he turns his head, a conniving smirk revealing the outline of his teeth whilst investigating your breathlessness.

“Someone’s daring,” He mumured, cocking a brow amusedly.

You poke his side, groaning that he shouldn’t look too far into it before he nudges you, your frown returned with a subtle nod—directed at the forgotten cupcake.

“Well you already gave me a kiss, so wish for something else.”

“Choke,” You respond, but there’s still no bite to it. Some things never change.

Minho gently holds your hair back for you, allowing you to lean over and blow out the candle. No bite.

Your wish?

Let Minho and I go well. I like us.

Every bit of it was the truth.

Hopefully this wish of yours can come true.

Maybe.

Seated on the living room floor do you finally relax, your shoulders slumping down after hours of monstrous tension. Seems you’d forgotten he was your best friend before anything else.

“So.. how does this work?”

‘Work’ as in, the dating deadline’s here, what’s next?

He purses his lips—a habit of his—blinking rapidly.

“Like friends? Except we get the kissing and sex pass in between, right?”

You smack his shoulder. He smiles, childishly extending his pinky out to you.

Linking yours, you press the pad of your thumb against his. An unspoken gesture.

“Together?”

Through thick and thin. Your way, as it always was, always had been.

He has stars in his tawny-globes for eyes.

“Together.”

Minho’s hands are warm in the midst of frigid temperatures.

Spring isn’t too far off, but the bitter winds remain ceaseless and unrelenting, whipping your hair every which way, scattering a plethora of goosebumps along your skin.

Never had you held hands like this with someone before, nonetheless Minho, and yet, a connection lies inside the initial awkwardness. The silent assurance, whether it’s his thumb smoothing your palm or occasional squeezes, telling you he understands, that you’re not alone, or how he patiently waited by the door the entire time you were getting ready, claiming he didn’t want to dirty your place with his shoes.

It’s sort of revitalizing. Curious and inquisitive in his lingering touches, additional notes—reminders on your coffee cup, questions asking whether you want to stay over afterward, if he can give you a kiss on the cheek.

One in particular you recall:

I miss you. Scribbled in bleeding ink.

Your introduction as lovers had been a field day of trials and questions for the two of you, though when it came down to the public’s knowledge, you began debating on the “curiosity killed the cat” theory.

This morning, catching a glimpse of the company’s logo in the distance, you assign yourself as the cat. Too interested, now suffering the consequences.

Granted, you wouldn’t take back moving to relationship status, but it was a lot easier to brush off comments if you were Minho.

Hyeongmi being the main one responsible for said comments.

Morning passed by seamlessly, prioritizing work above all else, too busy typing away to for any interruptions.

..Until a midday conference.

Seated right next to each other, his fingers slowly thread with yours beneath the table, sending the man a perplexed (and slightly nervous) expression in response.

More so, the comforting casualness caused you to barely recognize Mrs. Song reaching below to fetch her fallen pen, a gasp of surprise stilling the conversation at her realization.

“Are you- Are you two holding—?”

Panicked, you smack his hand away, stomach plummeting.

Not expecting him to stubbornly grab your hand again, a miniature frown draws across his perfectly rose lips.

Pouting.

Lee Minho is pouting because you’re not letting him hold your hand.

Unbelievable.

If the situation could escalate further, the she-devil herself (Hyeongmi) throws her head down to spare a glimpse, allowing you to fully accept your demise. A demise that, one way or another, needed to happen.

This was simply an early death.

“You’re kidding! No way you guys are a thing?” The eccentric girl mouths the last words, eyebrows drawn to her hairline.

And just like that, your relationship with Minho ventured out of your pocket and into a brand new wilderness.

“So…what’s it like living everybody’s dream?”

Headed to the bathroom, Hyeongmi stops you, leaned over the mirror, carefully inspecting her plum-colored lipstick.

“What?” You pique, confusedly glancing between her and the empty stall you’re trying to nonchalantly slip into.

“I mean, the entire company’s talking about it. Tell me, are you guys actually official? Or is this all just for the attention? No offense, but-“

“I...”

Want to punch you in the face.

You keep it to yourself.

“I’m gonna go.”

Synonymously, both your bladder and your appetite completely disappeared.

Although, she doesn’t leave you alone.

You’re frantically searching for excuse after excuse, speed-walking and taking the stairs any chance available.

Unfortunately for you, she’s everywhere. At some point you’re certain a tracking device is hidden somewhere on your clothes.

Almost there. From silently pleading help with your eyes to legitimately hiding in your workplace, today couldn’t have been more of a joke.

Or so you thought.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Hyeongmi?”

“With Minho,” She nervously fiddles with her earrings. “You don’t have to tell me but.. how’s the bedroom?”

Apparently, it can go lower.

Before you can respond to her shamelessness, a grip fastens on your shoulders, cologne distinct enough you can tell exactly who it is.

Your beach day.

“Hyeongmi, you do realize that’s rude, yeah? Let’s not cross boundaries we shouldn’t cross, got it?”

All the while Minho smiles, this cloying, “I dare you” sort of attitude no one can argue with.

Averting her attention, she speedily raises up, humorlessly laughing off the tension while excusing herself from the room.

“You okay?” He whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, pressing a chaste kiss there.

Yeah, there’s no getting used to this.

“Yep,” You say, though there isn’t much sincerity it.

He knows.

“Wait for me here, let’s walk home together.”

Ah. You want to kiss him.

“Minho.”

He turns on his heel.

Kiss me.

You’re holding his collar now, the option on the tip of your tongue, his lips a hairbreadth from yours.

Close, closer.

No. Not yet.

Either way, what do you know about kissing? What if you screw up?

Not yet.

“..Okay.”

Your gaze flits down to his lips if only for a second. A small, cheeky grin adorning his face as he follows your movements.

It’s hard to focus when he leaves, because all you can think about is the possibilities. What if you had kissed him? Would he have kissed you back?

By the way looked at you, the logical response would be: yes. Most people don’t stare at someone like that without the intent to kiss them, right?

Though somehow, you can’t help but feel unprepared, a complete novice in this battlefield of love.

Where Minho took you afterward was a mystery, merely happy to be away from the confines of your desk—letting his eager hand guide you wherever he pleased.

Shielded beneath the shade of two trees, your destination, Yeouido Park, is a spectacle during the transition period of winter to spring. You’d oftentimes spend hours here, basking in the relief a break grants. A spectacle where you two first truly met.

“Alright, be honest with me.”

He spins you around till you’re face to face, carefully analyzing your facial expression.

“Are you really okay? After Hyeongmi said that, I couldn’t stop thinking..”

Oh. That careful crease in his eyebrows, sympathetic.

He’s breaking your heart.

You realize now why everyone falls in love with him.

“Of me?”

The words come out involuntarily, a step forward in the newness, paving light through the darkened abyss.

“Yeah..” He says, a little winded while doing so.

Minho cares, he always had, yet, it’s your first time hearing it aloud.

“Y/n.”

Blinking yourself back into reality, your face grows warm, not intending to deliberately space out right in front of him.

He leans forward, causing you to shrink back into your skin as a kiss is planted right atop your nose, the man wearing a satisfied grin.

“Hey- You can’t- It’s not Valentines yet—“

“And why would I wait until Valentine’s day?”

Another deeper red burns your cheeks, and you scorn the way he gets under your skin—a way that makes every insult dissolve like powder on your tongue.

He notices, but decides not to prod further, lightly bumping your hip with his own as a signal to follow.

“Tomorrow is the day, y’know,” You mumble, kicking rocks with the tip of your shoe.

“Are we gonna turn into those couples?” He asks, pretentiously puckering his lips, eyes squinted shut.

You burst out laughing.

“I would break up with you first, sorry Minho.” Said puckered lips transform into a playful scowl.

“What? No treat for valentines?”

Blinking babydoll eyes up at you, you wrinkle your nose, coming to recognize what “treat” he was implying.

Earlier you would’ve kissed instantly, but an inkling of stubbornness kept you from giving into him this time.

Sneaking behind you, he ducks down, voice low enough for only your ears to hear.

“Didn’t seem you were too against it earlier.”

And with that, he races off, entirely too happy with himself and not likely to live down your reaction. Because you can’t disagree.

Since when were Lee Minho’s lips so kissable?

Knock.

Knock.

Your attention strays from the mirror at the sound, wondering if it was simply a figment of your imagination only for the sound to ensue.

Knock. Knock.

Who would be at your door at this hour in the middle of the week?

There’s a name on your tongue, but you don’t contemplate any longer, tiptoeing to the doorway to peer through the peephole.

And the sight before you makes every ounce of suspicion worthwhile.

Minho, holding a bouquet of roses and things unknown behind his back, is reciting.

He’s staring at his shoes, bouncing back and forth on his heels nervously.

Lee Minho is nervous.

Wanting just to stand there and watch him rehearse, you finally give in after a third knock scares you out of your wits—hesitantly opening the door and trying to placate the most surprised expression possible.

His eyes round as saucers, you literally watch the gears in his head turn in real time, extending the flowers out to you.

“Happy valentines. These are uh, for you.”

And his ears are red.

You’re going to implode from how cute this is.

Attempting to stave down the alarming amount of happiness you’re experiencing, you hold the flowers in one hand, awaiting whatever lie behind his back.

Although, as the outline of a box of chocolates appears, so does… a shampoo bottle.

What.

Bathing in a long silence, you can’t help but wonder you’re genuinely hallucinating. Glancing from his face to the literal shampoo in hand, he mirrors you, confused for a reason you’re trying to figure out as well.

“Is that… a shampoo bottle?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you were running low the last time I came here.”

…

You’ve never received a valentine before, but this automatically took the cake.

Is it possible to fall in love after you’re given a shampoo bottle as a gift on valentines? Apparently so.

Nonetheless, work flashed past, barely able to register a thing between the many congratulations you received and the absence of Hyeongmi (assumed to be due to the brown-haired charmer beside you).

For now, you savor the freedom of the day, finally able to escape the pains of before and wallow in a new kind of excitement. Love.

Love delivered by Minho himself in the form of mini scraps he’s folded into hearts, slipping heart after heart onto your desk at any opportunity to the point you bump his leg beneath the table in warning.

He cheekily smirks in return, stupidly innocent face scheming with malice.

He’s getting an absolute kick out of this, and you hate to admit you enjoy it just as much.

As usual, you wait behind for him to catch up on your daily commute home—an activity you did long before any romantic feelings became involved.

That’s it. Minho’s pinpoint of romance.

Shampoo bottle, walks home, extra coffee, notes.

Minho doesn’t openly express his love, not unless he feels either adventurous or obligated. Instead, he studies. Your habits, the things you enjoy, your actions, preferences. That particular coffee order you liked, how you had ran out of shampoo.

Oh how you love him.

Though, rounding the sidewalk to your place, Minho grabs ahold of your wrist. In response, as soon as you turn your head, you’re mere centimeters from his face, simply standing there, proximity willing either of you not to move.

Initial words dying out, he slightly edges to the side, cocked in a way that has your mind racing.

Nose, cheek, but never lips.

No.

Your hands act before any other part of you, blocking his lips from yours.

“We-“

The look he’s giving you, shock.

You feel a hundred degrees hotter.

“We need to go inside,” You excuse yourself fast, the man tailing behind, grip still loosely attached to your wrist.

Quickly shutting the door behind you, it’s an immediate embarrassment flooding your frame that allows you to speak, words bursting outward in an uncontrollable cacophony.

“Minho I’m so sorry I have no idea what I was doing, I shouldn’t have done that, it was a stupid idea. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything-“

“Hey, slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

His tone serves as the much needed breeze fanning your face, cooling you down enough to articulate sentences properly.

“I’m sorry, we’ve just never kissed on the lips and I feel like I’m gonna be horrible and kill the mood. This is stupid, I know, just.. bear with me please?”

His eyebrows furrow, forming together the equation piece by piece.

“You’ve.. You’ve never had your first kis—?”

You hush him furiously, slumping onto the couch dejectedly.

Yet, Minho doesn’t laugh nor pick fun regardless of how hilariously idiotic the occasion is. He’s quiet, concerned almost.

You add that to your long list of things you love about him.

Inhaling gradually, your focus flits to the window, collecting yourself, easing the frantic rush-hour traffic rampaging in your skull.

If you were one of those paper hearts he made, he’s pulling apart each careful fold in this very moment. Unraveling the layers till your bare self is exposed in all its anxiousness.

“I hate it. It feels like a part of that teenage youth everyone talks about is something I’ll never get to experience. I was too busy caring about school, and now I feel like I’ve missed out.”

Soaking in a quietness, you jump when he places a hand over yours, softly tracing the skin of your knuckles, glossy as he watches, carving each perfect aspect of you into memory.

“Well you may not be seventeen, but you’re never too old to learn to kiss.”

One hand cupping your jaw to garner your attention, you’re met with a glass-like visage.

Gentle.

“And I can teach you how.”

It’s always been business, you’ve always been business. Which is why, now confronting what feels to be the highest peak in your love life, you’re left a completely blank canvas. No rules, no instructions.

It’s terrifying.

“Min- Minho, I really haven’t done this before.”

You hastily pique, scooting backward in the cushions.

Curse the shakiness of your voice.

“If you don’t want to do this, tell me. We won’t.”

You quickly shake your head.

No, you want this, you’ve wanted this too badly to back out now.

“Then let’s take it slow, okay?”

It’s horrifically awkward at first, a tiny peck, then a bit longer till your arms creep over his shoulders, his fingers once holding your jaw steady now resting on your neck.

Best word to describe it? Messy.

“Breathe through your nose.”

“Minho— I’m suffocating here—“

You sputter back, quite literally heaving for breath.

Yes, it was otherworldly kissing him, and he was an insanely good kisser, but did this really require your lungs to practically burst?

“Are you teaching me how to give a blowjob or kiss?”

His smile transforms mischievously, a sneering laugh slipping past. You already know he’ll make a sly comment.

Minho winks. “We’ll get to that later.”

“I lost my urge to date you. Bye.”

“Noooo Y/n~” He whines profusely, warm hold on your waist beckoning another kiss filled with hushed giggles and incessant jeers from either party—ensuing a halfway unbuttoned shirt and quite possibly the most greedy ten minutes known to man.

Out of breath, he pulls back from your stomach, the ticklish feather-light kisses planted there earning a stifled giggle from you while he blinks upward, seeming to be focused on something.

“Minho?” You question, ignorant to how unbelievably obsessed with you he is, more than ever in this moment.

From your damp, sweaty skin to the few hairs stuck to your forehead. Your swollen lips, the way you laugh, your stomach dipping with the action. He doubts he’ll ever get tired of this.

Reaching forward as if caught in a trance, he tenderly tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, voice barely audible upon pressing his forehead against yours.

And in the seclusion of your living room, tangled up together on the sofa, it’s just the two of you existing in this world.

“I hope you know I really meant it when I said I thought you were pretty too.”

Ah. He remembers. All that time ago.

Of course he does.

Kissing you for a time you can’t remember, you begin to wonder if that birthday wish of yours had came true after all.

Your feelings for Minho had always existed somewhere inside of you. Your head, your heart. A tiny inkling into something more, a could be. Two individuals wishing, waiting to make a move.

It seems the Valentines Pact sealed the deal.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @gimmeurtmi @jisuperboard @porang-poranglinos @palindrome969 @stayceebs97 @inniescandy-01 @idklin0

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #straykids x y/n #straykids x you #straykids x reader #stray kids x you #straykids fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #straykids angst #stray kids angst #skz angst #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho fluff #lee minho angst #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know angst #lee know fluff #leeknow x y/n #leeknow x you #leeknow x reader #leeknow fluff #leeknow angst

[starilian2]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS!!🧡

Happy autumn and scorpio season to you all, as well as happy halloween!!(in advance!!😁) ik I'm posting after so many days, but I was hella busy, that I didn't get time for writing anything 😅 but here I'm! So let's get started!

🧡 A scorpio rising, will always bring out your "scorpio side" of ur chart or the "Pluto" side of your chart, so for eg. I have this friend of mine who is a scorpio rising and me being a Pluto in 11th conjunct Mars, I sometimes get controlling over her, because of my own issues, (ofc Pluto themes) and sometimes I feel like an outsider with her, but I totally know, that it's "my problem" and also like I have scorpio in 9th house, and there are some things in our belief systems that contradict each other. And because of her moon in my 8th house, she brings out my traumatic experience on the surface somehow 😅 just sometimes while talking, she say something, that remind me of something that was "not so good" in my life and I was like "😐"..

🧡 I seen every Aries rising, tend to be calm, and cool headed, "always!!" They never look like an Aries rising, if you observe their personality traits, because of their progressed Taurus rising ig?? But they all have this strong brows and jawline in common. They're sporty, definitely, always on the go doing some physical activities, but still so calm, idk, how to express this they always look like this emoji "😌"but when they become more older, they tend to get more talkative with others especially with their family members, (because of their progressed Gemini rising afterwards) some may consider them as boring while some of them as shy and calm (here the Taurus rising comes in) but if they have Saturn influence in their chart, they maybe more serious and practical mixed with that stuff I talked before.

🧡 being a Capricorn rising in sr, is always like being gloomy, and that year will be full of tests, but when you receive your rewards, you don't get that happy, as you tend to be, on your earlier years. It's hard to be "truly happy" TBH and happiness, laughter feels more superficial most of the time. Like in this year, I only felt, maybe 2-3 times genuinely happy. Now I understand how Capricorn risings feel like their whole life😅😐

🧡I seen every fuckin aquarius sun that are "filmy" in some way, like they'll watch a movie, or a tv show, and start to act like that for their whole life, I mean, the philosophies they shared in the films, become their mindset, for their life, and then they tend to spread it everywhere, and while some think, that they're filmy, some people may believe them, because of their serious demeanor.

🧡 is that Uranus in 12th house thing, that they're not good at texting??

🧡Pluto transits at your personal planets, may show the real colours of that people represented by that particular planets so for eg. If you're going through a sun conjunct Pluto transit, this may show you the true colours of your dad, and your brother siblings, I mean the male members in your family...

🧡moon trine Chiron in a natal chart, indicates an easiness while healing their emotional wounds, and their presence can be so healing TBH! Like being with them, can make your day, and they're also beautiful inside and out, especially if Chiron or moon is close to the ascendant ♥️

🧡Pisces mercury/mercury in 12th house/3rd house ruler in 12th house/neptune-mercury aspects people may say something, that people hardly understand or listened, and other's are like can you repeat it please and they're like, "NVM 😄!" And it's really annoying for some people, Ik.. they speak their mind, but it's hard to hear it.

🧡 scorpio can be mysterious, while pisces can be confusing, I heard of every pisces dominant people, that they're confusing,while scorpios are the ones people label them as hard to read and mysterious..

Thank you very much for being here!♥️ I really appreciate your time here!🫶🏼🫰🏻

#astro community #astro observations #astrology #astro notes #astro placements #astrology observations #aquarius #moon signs #12th house #astro posts #libra #scorpio #pluto #aries rising #capricorn rising #scorpio rising #uranus in 12th house. #pisces mercury

[vixeneptune]

🎀 Princess treatment

🎀 I'm such an elegant pretty Princess who gets everything she wants for free

🎀 I'm always treated with so much care, love and respect. People go out of their way to please me and make me happy

🎀 I exude grace and high value, my beautiful aura inspires others to treat me like I have pretty privilege and like I'm so important and special

🎀 I always get VIP treatment wherever I go, I'm used to it by now

🎀 people are very attentive to me, they're so generous they spoil me and shower me with so much love, attention, affection and gifts

🎀 I love how everyone is so kind and sweet to me 🥺 its obvious that I'm their fav person and they truly love me

🎀 my feminine energy attract masculine men who provide for me abundantly and treat me like a princess

🎀 I literally never have to pay for anything, men always offer to pay for me and buy me things no matter how expensive. I'm worth every dime

🎀 I always attract men who are secure, masculine, rich, generous and treat me like a goddess queen. They love me unconditionally

🎀 people are so sweet to me I always get so many compliments about my beauty, personality and aura. Everyone thinks im the prettiest girl they've ever seen. They tell me how gorgeous, classy and lovable I am 🥰 I'm always surrounded with love and genuine people who treat me the best

🎀 being in my life is a privilege, I add value to others just by existing and everyone gives back to me 10x folds

🎀 I never have to worry about anything bc im always taken care of and supported. People love helping me with everything, I have all the support I need and more and I'm so grateful

🎀 a pretty princess like me doesn't even have to try or work for anything, I don't stress about anything , everything naturally comes to me bc I'm so attractive and magnetic

🎀 I love taking care of myself , I always look fresh clean and I smell so sweet and addictive. I literally look perfect from head and toe and everyone tells me that

🎀 I'm so lucky I get princess treatment everywhere I go it's unavoidable and I love it. I get princess treatment even from strangers , they carry my bags for me, they open doors for me, they give me things for free, they give me flowers and compliments and offer me things. It's so sweet

🎀 I'm open to receiving princess treatment bc thats what I deserve. My energy is feminine , inviting and open to receive. I attract the best kind of treatment, the best kinds of people and the best experiences. I'm so high quality that I keep on getting the best

🎀 people are always on their best behavior when they're around me bc I'm elite. They do everything to satisfy my needs and make sure I'm happy and comfortable and I don't even have to ask , they keep on showering me with love nonstop without expecting anything in return , my smile, my approval and appreciation is enough :)

🎀 my feminine presence is so classy and elegant it attracts both men and women. People would do anything just to be around me , to be my friend or my lover that's the biggest win. I'm highly pursued and wanted by everyone.

🎀 everywhere I go I hear people whispering about how pretty and charming I am. Everywhere I go I get more than 10 people who are in love with me and competing for my love & attention. I receive love letters, flowers, and gifts just for existing

🎀 "anything for you princess" , "i don't want you to worry about anything , let me handle it" , "I bought you your favourite things just because" , "how are you so pretty? I can't take my eyes off of you" , "I'd do anything just to see you smile" , "don't even have to carry your wallet ,I take care of everything" , "get ready I'm taking you on a trip to your desired country", "you're the kinda girl every man would die to be with" , "your femininity is intoxicating", "I love your energy I can't help but treat you like the royalty that you are", "you literally look like the prettiest princess", "you're so elegant and ethereal, I'm mesmerised by you" are things I hear often

Princess treatment subliminal

#neville goddard #self concept affirmations #law of assumption #lawofassumption #manifestation #powerful affirmations #self love affirmations #beauty affirmations #master manifestor #creator of my reality #spoiled princess #princess treatment #pretty privilege #beauty subliminal #subliminal results #success story #feminine energy #divine feminine #lao affirmations #vaunts & affirmations #lao scripting #4d reality #desired reality #sp affirmations #love affirmations #love subliminal #askfirmations #it girl affirmations #nondualism #reality shifting

[starsworldd]

⁂ astro observations pt. 8 ⁂

take with a grain of salt and only take what resonates <3

☆ the expression “don’t follow your feelings” does not apply to cancer rising/sun. when these natives follow their true genuine feelings (not feelings out of spite, revenge or other intentions alike) it leads them to great happiness and success

☆ don’t mess with aquarius and cancer risings. that martian (aries and scorpio) ruled 10th house isn’t for nothing y’all!

☆ scorpio moons could struggle to get into relationships because of the intimacy issues

☆ moon conjunct mercury and ranting all the time (although if it’s in scorpio the effect is lessened i find)

☆ saggitarius suns tend to have well-to-do fathers they don’t necessarily have to have rich fathers but these people may find a lot of opportunities through their father

☆ mars-lilith aspects are some powerful people, seriously don’t mess with them

☆ scorpio moon x scorpio moon relationships don’t really work in my experience😭

☆ i don’t care how many times it’s been said leo risings are so magnetic, people tend to obsess over natives with this placement

☆ more on that, leo rising is the most different out of 5th house/leo placements. 5th house/leo placements tend to be more energetic and outgoing but then leo rising i think tend to be more laid back and people naturally flock to them

☆ 7th house synastry is giving enemies to lovers

☆ saggitarius moons tend to embody that happy-go-lucky, optimistic attitude more than the suns

☆ people who have uranian influence on their rising tend to have extreme heights (ex: ariana grande is really short, she has uranus conj. asc., taylor swift is really tall, and she also has the same aspect)

☆ the way that people are obsessed with cancer moons because of that approachable, relaxed demeanor

☆ virgo mercuries are blunt but not blunt like saggitarius, aries, or scorpio mercury

☆ mercury conjunct jupiter people find opportunities through the people they talk to and their communication style (like saggitarius mercuries, these people are also blunt)

☆ people who have venus retrograde tend to be more on the quiet side, but they can also be really funny when they do have something to say

☆ it is really important for people who have seesaw shaped charts to master the axis in which the seesaw is happening in (e.g, 1st-7th house seesaw have to master confidence and diplomatic values and learn when to use both or 3rd-9th house axis seesaws have to learn how to balance having experiences with others within their comfort zone vs outside their comfort zone, etc..)

☆ natal saturn in 2nd house shows someone who doubts their abilities/skills often not just their self-worth

☆ something with taurus mars and biting people …

☆ if someone’s rising falls in your 12th house, you may feel as if you don’t get to see the rising in-person that often

☆ scorpio in your chart shows where you’re powerful but also where others will try and tear you down

☆ lilith can show where we feel/are the bad guys? im not so sure about this let me down below what your thoughts are!

hope you enjoy!

#astro community #astrology observations #aquarius #pisces #neptune #midheaven #pluto #saturn #aquarius venus #pluto aspects #astrology aspects #astro observations #astro tumblr #astrology tumblr #synastry #neptune astrology #aries zodiac #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #astrology community #10th house #astrology #capricorn #saggitarius #moon astrology

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

can you do mike schmidt x reader with abby trick-or-treating?

NOTE: This takes place after the movie

........

"Come on, slowpokes! Keep up!"

"Abby, don't go too far!"

"Relax, Mikey. She's just going two houses over. There's other kids already there. See?" You calmly pointed out the decorated home that Abby was rushing towards, disappearing into the crowd of kids who complimented her costume.

She was dressed as her "friend": a yellow version of Freddy Fazbear complete with a mask she painted, a yellow undershirt, and a black vest that was a tad bit too big for her.

Curiously enough, she removed one ear from the mask and covered one eye with black paint. But it didn't bother either of you too much, thinking she wanted to do something unique and creative with her costume.

Considering everything that happened at Freddy's Pizzeria, you were surprised that she wanted to dress up as one of the characters at all.

Yet neither you nor Mike recall ever seeing a "Golden Freddy". Not even backstage.

But you did, however, meet a golden Bonnie...and the person wearing his suit was none other than the bastard who murdered those poor children, including Garrett.

You just hoped their souls were finally at peace now, and that William rotted away in that suit, never to be found again. It was a rather fitting punishment--the perfect karma someone as sadistic as him.

Sometime later, you started dating Mike after you both officially quit that job, found something new to save his home from eviction, and helped him regain custody over his sister (Doug was more than eager to write you both off as her legal guardians).

He still had his nightmares, of course, that now involved visions of a decayed Springbonnie suit chasing him through that same forest. But you were always there to wake him up, cuddling together and helping him fall back to sleep without needing to down a bunch of pills.

He's genuinely been trying to depend on them less and less. Abby notices it, too, and has incorporated you in her drawings now, standing beside her happy-looking brother.

It's her own way of saying "thank you", and you accept it wholeheartedly.

When Halloween rolled around, you and Mike got too work decorating the house, surprising his sister after you picked her up from school. She did mention how he used to do the "bare minimum" before you came along.

And by that, she meant that Mike only ever put a jack o'lantern outside, a bowl filled with cheap candy, and a sign that said "take one".

Well this year...you made sure to buy better candy bars for the kids this year and add the finishing touches to the outside of the house. After that, you both took her trick-or-treating.

While she was occupied at the current house, you and Mike stood back to admire all the decorations and other costumes people were wearing.

"I honestly thought that whole near-death experience with the robots would've scarred her for life, but...she's been doing better." He remarked. "A lot better. It's like nothing ever happened."

"Well..she did help those kids find justice. They never knew their killer was standing right in front of them..they just needed that little push to finally recognize him."

"I'm surprised she hasn't told the whole story to her teacher yet."

"...because she knows we'd probably get some phone calls about that." You chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand.

Then you noticed Abby leaving the house, running down the steps and about to cross the street to reunite with you-

"Hey, hey, hey." Mike let you go to put both hands out, and she stopped in her tracks, mere inches from the road. "What did we talk about before we left the house, Abs?"

"...look both ways before I cross the street?"

"Exactly."

Huffing, she quickly glanced to her left and right, deeming it safe to cross. And only then did she resume her sprint, removing her mask once she was in front of you. "[Y/n], look at all these chocolate bars I got so far!"

You looked into the pillowcase, nodding in agreement. "Wow, you did get a lot! I sure can't wait to gobble them all up when we get home." A coy smirk appeared on your lips, watching her eyes widen in shock.

"Nooooooo, they're mine!" Protectively holding the sweets to her chest, she pouted and looked to Mike for help, yet he simply shrugged.

"I dunno, Abby.." It was hard for him to hide his own smile. "[Y/n] and I gotta make sure they're safe to eat, so we're gonna take one bite of every single bar-"

"Now that's just cruel!" She stomped her foot.

"We're only joking, sweetie." With a chuckle, you ruffled her hair, watching as she put her mask back on. "I think the next street over has a little haunted house maze. Do you wanna go check it out?"

She perked up and nodded in response, heading down the sidewalk with a spring in her step. You linked arms with Mike and followed her, looking around at the rest of the decorations.

But your eyes soon lingered on your boyfriend's soft brown ones, and he gazed back at you for a few moments. "What?"

"Nothing." You shook your head, smiling lightly. "I'm just...glad to be with you."

"So am I." He kissed you on the cheek. "Thank you, truly..Abby deserves a good Halloween."

"I think we all deserve a good one."

Unbeknownst to the three of you, there was a peculiar figure standing across the way. He was hanging out near the trees, almost perfectly blending in with the surrounding darkness so that nobody else could notice him:

A large mechanical bear with dirty yellow fur, one ear, and one glowing blue eye, smiling fondly at Abby and her costume.

It's good to see that she had not forgotten.

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie spoilers #mike schmidt x reader #fluff #halloween

[shogunish]

𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲.

pairing. gojo satoru x f! reader

genre. smut, pwp, friends to lovers

warnings. explicit sexual content, hair-pulling, raw sex, female masturbation, handjob, fingering, mating press, lots of cum, squirting, loss of virginity, uneditet

words. 5k

summary. Gojo Satoru has absolutely no business knowing that you're still a virgin. It will only result in your demise: never-ending comments about your lack of experience until you have no choice to smack him over the head upside-down.

note. special thanks to @cinnamonmon for indulging my fantasies and pouring gasoline into the fire ✨

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

Discussing Shoko's and Gojo's sex life is most certainly not how you expected your day to go.

Gathered at a table on a terrace, surrounded by lovely flowers blooming and the serenity of the Jujutsu Campus, you unhurriedly sip your soda. Depending on who is talking, wide, curious eyes jump from Shoko to Gojo and vice versa.

While you are happy to be spending time with your friends, you can't contribute anything to the conversation.

Apparently Gojo's awkward sex moment was when he was drunk and rubbed a girl's thigh for 10 minutes straight, firmly believing he had found her clit. Laughter bursts from Shoko's lips and you swear her coffee almost came out of her nose.

"No way! That sounds like something you'd do sober, too," she teases once her giggles die down.

Satoru pouts as though he is seriously wounded by his friend's words that stung like needles. "So that's how you think of me? I assure you this was a one-time fuzz up!" He smacks one hand to his chest where his heart is and raises his other hand much like he's vowing to never fuck up so majorly again.

Admittedly, this is one of those stories that have even you grinning into your glass. But the conversation quickly moves on; Shoko talking about the guy who took her virginity, Gojo confessing his favorite position (a string of words you had never heard of) and the several reasons why he liked said position so much.

It is a stretch of time ㅡ or maybe only 5 minutes ㅡ until Satoru puts the spotlight on you.

"You've been awfully quiet, [Name]. Cat got your tongue?" His voice has a teasing lilt to it and a smart comment lies on the tip of your tongue, but Shoko decides to answer in your stead.

She twirls a strand of hair between her delicate fingers. "[Name] can't add to the conversation because she's still a virgin," Shoko deadpan with not even a hint of a teasing tone laced in her voice.

"Shoko!" You look at her, betrayal and embarrassment written all over your face. A jumble of words, or rather letters, spill from your mouth like water from an overflowing sink, trying to save the situation. You flail your hands through the air, making all sorts of wild gestures and attracting quite a few curious looks from sorcerers and students alike.

Gojo Satoru has absolutely no business knowing that you're still a virgin. It will only result in your demise: never-ending comments about your lack of experience until you have no choice to smack him over the head upside-down. If annoying people was a sport, Satoru would definitely win the Olympics with flying colors.

"Are you for real?" Despite the blindfold hiding his eyes, you can tell that he's genuinely surprised. "And here I thought you'd have several men at your feet by now." Ah, there it is. His trademark grin which you can recognize from miles away.

Satoru would never say it out loud, but he thinks you're really pretty. You're blessed with humor, intelligence, strength in battle that even he recognizes and a smile that melts hearts on the spot. All these attributes that he silently adored about you are obvious as day to him. To think that no other man sees it proves that he sees more through his blindfold than some other folks do with a pair of lame glasses.

Yet, Gojo thinks that it's better this way. At least, he doesn't have to worry about someone else sweeping you off your feet.

Shoko rests her cheek on her fist, a warm breeze blows through her chocolate hair. "Right? [Name] most certainly is pretty, but she prefers to stay at home on her days off and play video games. The only thing she pulls is the blanket over her head. It's a shame," she muses.

Has Shoko just..roasted you? You're flabbergasted.

"I'm still here and can hear you, you know!" Heat sits high on your cheeks, threatening to melt you from within, but you have to get a point across. Embarrassed, you gaze to the side; the sliding door to your right is suddenly much more interesting than your oh-so-beloved friends. "There's no shame in not having had an..well..you know..yet," you grumble.

Satoru snaps his fingers. "You mean an orgasm."

Oh, you've just dug your own grave, haven't you? You wish for the ground to swallow you whole and never spit you back to the surface again if it means escaping this ridiculous situation for good. If you could, you would just drop your forehead onto the table and groan in agony.

You will never hear the end of it.

"So not even an orgasm by yourself?" Satoru digs and stuffs a chip or two into his mouth; they're your favorite flavor and usually you would steal 70% of the bag's content, but you have a reputation to defend right now.

A reputation that's crumbling, because lying to Gojo is impossible.

Defeated, you meet his gaze and sigh. "No. But it's no big deal, anyways. I don't have time for any of these things."

"No time, huh..," Satoru echoes your words quietly and slouches back into his seat. It's almost suspicious how easily the 1,90m tall bother on legs drops the subject, but maybe it's because he knows you're lying through your teeth.

The clock strikes 10 in the evening when you're in bed, the lights in your bedroom dimmed and dipping the room in sweet orange hues. Your shirt is pulled over your chest, tits exposed to the air and nipples hardening at the change in temperature. Nimble fingers slide from the valley of your breasts down to your stomach and linger just above your panties.

How stupid, you think. Who couldn't make themselves cum?

Perhaps, the earlier conversation you had with Shoko and Satoru still weighs heavily on your mind and perhaps you have a point to prove that you aren't as clueless as everyone (including yourself) believes.

"Hmph, this is ridiculous," you huff, push your panties to the side and slide your finger through your folds. They're already wet and sensitive, probably glistening in the dim lights. A content sigh escapes your lips.

But when you slide a finger into your pussy and can't reach that oh-so-sweet spot everyone keeps talking about, you groan in frustration. Thrusting your finger into your cunt does nothing but spread the slick and no matter how much you rub at your pussy, it doesn't feel quite right.

Frustrated moans and groans grow in volume. At some points, colorful curses leave your mouth and you give up on pleasuring yourself.

"Fucking hell, this is stupid!," you yell and continue your little rant until a knock on your door interrupts you, ripping you out of your headspace. Once your clothes are back in place and you look acceptable enough to be seen by people, you trot to the door with bare feet. "Coming!"

When you open the door, you certainly don't expect Gojo to be on the other side, a concerned look on his face which isn't obstructed by a blindfold or sunglasses for once. "Are you alright? It sounded like you got injured."

"Injured..? I'm not.." Confused, you look up at the taller man until it clicks and heat explodes on your face. Oh dear lord, no. He must've heard you trying to touch yourself and mistook your pathetic attempt at pleasing yourself for having hurt yourself on accident. "Oh..Oh fuck.."

You drop your forehead against the wooden door frame, not daring to meet Gojo's eyes. The fact that they're not covered makes the entire situation even worse, somehow. "It's not that, I was..just busy."

Gojo cups his chin in thought, mulling over your words and you can visibly see the gears in his head turning. Unfortunately for you, Satoru is smarter than he acts. A smirk graces his lips as he laughs. "So that's it? Oh man. You really suck at touching yourself, you know?"

"What the hell do you know about my body?!" You cross your arms over your chest and turn your head to the side, not sparing your dearest friend another glance. Having this conversation with him in the hallway is embarrassing enough already. "It's not as easy as it sounds! And keep your voice down!"

"You're the one making a fuss right now," Satoru states and pops into your personal bubble, scrutinizing your face from your eyes swimming in embarrassment down to your trembling bottom lip. "Seeing you all pent-up like this almost makes me want to teach you."

The idea popping into your head is the dumbest thing you have ever thought of, but what other choice do you have? At least once, you want to taste the ecstasy everyone keeps talking about and there's no one you trust as much as Satoru, even though he could be annoying.

"Could you?"

"Could I what?"

"Teach me how to touch myself."

To your surprise, Satoru agrees and you invite him into your place. It's exactly this dumb request that lands you in your bedroom with Gojo Satoru sitting on your bed and asking you to strip down first. To his surprise, you're oddly compliant and do as you're told.

"Get comfortable and relax, [Name]. It's just us." Satoru's voice is calming as you lie nearly naked in front of him. Your entire face feels hot as you catch him eying your boobs, the curve of your waist and the cute panties that separate his gaze from your bare pussy.

"Touch your tits. Take your time and don't rush," Gojo says with a slight tilt of his head. "You're supposed to enjoy it."

You gulp down the lump in your throat, muttering a "fine" as your hands slide from your collarbone down to your breasts. Insecurity fills your veins, you hesitate and your eyes flicker up to Gojo who's comfortably watching you and assuring you with a nod of his head. You cup your tits, fondling and squeezing them lightly at first.

For a reason you couldn't quite place your finger on, your tummy is already feeling funny. Is it because Satoru's watching you or..?

"Good. Now go ahead and play with your nipples. No need to go all out just yet, be gentle at first." Eyes blue like the skies intently watch your fingers flick your nipples before rubbing them in slow circles. Gojo would be lying if he said that he isn't feeling himself getting hard merely because you're touching yourself in front of him. "That's it.."

After some time, you pinch and tug at your nipples until a whimper slips your lips and goosebumps are scattered all over your skin. It feels good, you notice. The previous hesitation goes up in smoke as you get comfortable with yourself, with Satoru watching you closely.

"Feels good, doesn't it?," he questions to which you nod your head yes. "It does," you whine.

Oh, you have absolutely no idea how sweet you sound, do you? Gojo has to adjust his sitting position or else you'd sooner or later see the boner in his sweatpants, asking for your attention and sweet release. He doubts his right hand will get the job done tonight.

"You know, it's not fair," you suddenly speak up, voice shaky and uncharacteristically insecure. "I'm nearly naked and you're fully clothed..," you trail off, cheeks burning.

Gojo chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Are you saying you want me to undress like you did?"

In the past, you've seen Gojo shirtless quite a few times and it never fazed you. But now that you are half naked in front of him, pussy wet and aching for some friction, you are painfully aware of the way he's built as he strips down to his underwear.

He's broad and buff in all the right places, the muscles in his arms bulging whenever he flexes his biceps. Not to mention his slim waist and the white happy trail disappearing into his boxers, leading to the erection between his legs.

"Go ahead and touch your pussy, rub on it. Get to know what feels good for you."

Following his words, you shimmy out of your panties and dip your hand between your legs where your folds glisten with your arousal. It's wetter than it was before, allowing you to slide right through the slit and making you sigh in pleasure. You spread your folds, circle your entrance with the tip of your finger and moan at the sensitivity.

Gojo watches your pussy flutter around nothing at the feather light touch and has to ignore the throbbing and twitching of his cock. If he could, he would jerk off while guiding you, but he can't do that. At least not yet.

"Now you rub your clit. Slowly," Satoru instructs. His icy blue eyes are glued to your nimble finger sliding through your slick folds, searching for the bud and glistening in the dim light of your room.

A frustrated huff slips your lips. "I can't find it.."

"Are you serious? It's right there."

"Where..?"

Gojo takes pity on your pathetic attempts of pleasing yourself. Grabbing your knees, he spreads your thighs apart, scoots closer to your heated body and presses his thumb right to your clit. "There."

Immediately, your back arches off the mattress as Gojo draws a high-pitched, pleased moan from your glossy lips. Thighs twitching, you buck your hips into his hand and whine. "Again," you demand through a haze of longing and desire.

Gojo has to take a breath through his nose to compose himself. How often had he dreamed of you asking for his touch underneath him, soaking his fingers and thighs spread apart so prettily? His right hand can't compare to the real thing.

"Are you sure?" He strokes the pad of his thumb over your clit and watches you tremble with mesmerized eyes. White strands of hair frame his face as he tilts his head to the side.

Frantically, you nod your head, but Gojo tuts at this. "Use your words, sweets," he commands and you give in to his every word.

"I-I'm sure," you stumble over your words and catch his gaze, holding it with heat on your face and a softened look resting upon your features. "Please, touch me, Toru.."

"That's a good girl," Satoru smiles to himself as he drags his finger down to your fluttering hole and circles the slick flesh. Slowly, he inserts two of his fingers into your cunt, curves them upwards and rubs that sweet spot within you. "This is the spot that you'd wanna rub when you finger yourself, but now that I look at your hands.." Gojo trails off and takes one of your hands into his own, smirking when you squeeze it. "You probably won't reach it on your own."

Moan after moan spills from you, hips buck into his hand for more, more, more. You throw your head back into your pillow and dig your nails into the sheets until your knuckles go white. Heat pools in your lower abdomen and slides up your spine until it spreads to the very tips of your fingers. "A-ah, Toru! Right there," you whine. "Don't stop.. Feels s'good."

Satoru chuckles. "You're so sensitive, it's cute. I'm so lucky to be the first to see you all wet and needy, ain't I?"

Each squelch of his fingers is followed by a moan or whine, sounds that Gojo could listen to all day if you'd let him. Your slick trickles down to his wrist, stains your inner thighs and leaves a damp spot on your once clean sheets. The heel of Gojo's palm rubs your clit with each precise movement of his hand, leaving you no choice but to squeeze your thighs shut.

"Aw, is it too much for you?," Satoru coos in faux sympathy and uses his free hand to grab your face, making you look up at him through half-lidded eyes with your lips all puckered. "Fuck, aren't you a pretty little thing for me," he groans.

You want to answer, but all that comes out is a string of letters that sound an awful lot like his name, all fucked out and gone.

Gojo forces your thighs open again, watching his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over again until he's pounding them into you, juices dripping down to your ass. Your gummy walls tighten around his digits until Satoru is sure you're about to suck him in.

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out of your fluttering hole.

"Why'd you stop?," you whine in pathetic tones as the sweet tension leaves your muscles and the knot of warmth disappears from in-between your legs.

Satoru caresses your thighs; from your knee up to your inner thigh and across your stomach until his hands caress the underside of your tits, his thumbs flicking your hardened nipples. Just like that, he draws a whimper from you. "If you're gonna cum, it's gotta be on my cock."

It takes a moment for your brain to process his words, but when they do, your gaze travels from Gojo's stupidly handsome face down his abs and stops at the twitching bulge between his legs. A damp spot of pre-cum rests on the top of his erection, making you lick your lips.

"Your cock, huh..," you echo his words like you're drunk on him, his touch, like you're drunk on love. Absent-mindedly, you sit up and place your hands on Gojo's broad shoulders. You had never realized just how well-built and firm he really is and it makes you gulp.

Slowly tracing your hands down his body, you slide his boxers down his legs and toss them into some corner of your room. Gojo's cock springs free, smacks against his abdomen once and stands at attention. Pre-cum pools from the tip and a delicious vein travels from the base all the way to the red, swollen head.

"Teach me how to touch you," you whisper.

Gojo has a hard time controlling himself when you say these things in that voice of yours and give him those doe eyes. But he also has a hard time saying no to you. "Wrap your hand around the length like this.." Grabbing your hand, he makes you wrap your palm around his cock; a shiver goes down his spine as your fingers nearly don't fit around the girth. He's hot and heavy in your hand.

"Then you wanna rub it and twist your hand a little," Gojo instructs and guides your hand up and down his cock just like he said. His head falls back into the nape of his neck and a groan vibrates deep in his chest. "Rub the tip with your thumb. The slit is fine, too."

And you do just as you're told. Carefully, you rub the swollen tip with your thumb all while gliding your palm along his cock. Sticky pre-cum pools from the slit and when your thumb catches some of it, making the slide so much warmer and wetter, a loud groan escapes Gojo's lips. He wants to thrust into your palm so badly, but just before he could..

You're apologizing and pulling your hand away, shock and guilt written all over your face. "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? I didn't mean toㅡ"

"Hell no." Satoru is quick to wrap your palm around his cock once more and tighten your grip to thrust into your fist. "You feel fucking good. Keep going, sweets."

When his hand releases yours, you nod at him and drag your fist down to the base of his cock and slide it right back up where your palm squeezes the tip. His pre-cum now sticks to your palm, each rub sounding wetter than the one before.

Groans and moans spill from Gojo's mouth. He no longer feels the need to thrust into your hand; not when he rests his forehead on yours, his hot breath fanning your cheeks and basking in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him. Large, calloused hands glide from your shoulders to your arms and cup your tits. Satoru fondles them, squeezing and groping you to his heart's content.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters. His curious hands are now cupping your cheeks, skilled fingers move away some stray strands of your hair before his thumb catches your bottom lip. "Can I ㅡ ah, shit ㅡ kiss you?"

Your grip around his cock tightens, making him hiss. You smile at him like you're in love. "Yes, please. Kiss me, Satoru."

Gojo crashes his lips into yours, one hand keeping you in place by the back of your neck while the other one grabs your ass, pulling you closer to him. You moan at his touch, at the way he bites your bottom lip and sneaks his tongue into your mouth to dance with your own.

Satoru groans into your mouth when your fingers graze his balls, squeezing and fondling the flesh lovingly. He wraps his tongue around yours, sucking on the slippery muscle until a combination of his saliva mixed with yours trickles from the corner of your mouth. Delicate fingers get caught in Satoru's hair, pulling and tugging at the roots and always asking for more.

Gojo pulls you impossibly closer until you're on his lap, your pussy kissing the length of his cock and slicking it up. He can't take it anymore.

Breaking the kiss, a string of saliva connects his lips to yours and you find yourself pushed into the mattress.

"I need to be inside you. Now." Gojo towers over you, easily covering your frame with his buffer one. His eyes, once as bright as the clear skies, are now as dark as the depths of the ocean. Drops of pre-cum land underneath your belly button, pooling there and warming the skin. "Will you let me fuck this pretty pussy? I promise I'll be gentle."

Briefly, your eyes flicker down to his cock and you wonder how he's supposed to fit inside you when you had been clenching around his fingers already. But your need to feel Gojo inside you is greater than the questions floating throughout your mind. "Please. Fuck me, Toru."

Something akin to boyish delight lights up the blue of Satoru's eyes. Grabbing his cock, he makes sure to slide through your glossy folds and groans at the warmth you gift him. When the head catches your clit and Satoru smacks it with the tip, he smirks at the way you arch off the mattress.

"Ugh, stop teasing and fuck me already!"

"Who knew you were so bossy in bed?," Gojo teases and the next smart comment lies on the tip of your tongue, but it's wiped clean when Gojo presses his cock into your sloppy hole.

You dig your nails into his bicep, whimpering at the burning stretch but it feels too good to complain about it. Your pussy sucks him right in until he's nestled within your gummy walls, tip pressing into all the right spots and twitching within you.

"Fuck, you're so tight and wet..," Satoru groans, wraps one of your legs around his waist and drapes the other one over his shoulder. He sinks a bit deeper into you until his balls are pressed to your ass. "It's so much better than I imagined."

Drawing his hips back, Gojo thrusts into your pussy with a groan and sets a pace that makes you wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back. His weight pushes you into the mattress, each stroke of his cock making you moan louder than before.

"You're feeling good, huh?" Satoru smirks above you and grabs your hips to hold you in place, picking up the pace. Skin smacks against skin, your pussy squelches and leaves a white ring of cream around his cock. "Gonna turn you into a pretty mess once I'm done with you."

All you can do is take whatever Gojo gives you. The leg draped over his shoulder dangles in the air, your tits bounce in tune with his thrusts. "Fuck, gimme more, 'toru.. Need all of you..," you babble.

"More? You're a greedy thing, aren't you?" But Satoru fulfills your wish regardless. Sneaking a hand between your bodies, his fingers are quick to find your puffy clit, rubbing figure eights into the nub. Tears spring to your eyes, brimming your waterline and blurring your sight.

"Toru! Ah, fuck! Hah..shit, yes!" You chant his name like a prayer, throw your head back into the soft pillows and drag your nails down his back. You'd certainly leave some scratches, but Gojo doesn't mind. Not when it makes his cock twitch within your sloppy walls, leaking of pre-cum.

"There, yes, there! Just like that." Hot tears roll down your cheeks and into the clavicle of your collarbone as Gojo hits that sweet spot which makes you see stars over and over again.

"Right there, huh?" Sweat trickles down Satoru's temple, a few strands of snow white hair sticking to his forehead as he pounds you into the mattress. He grips the back of your thighs, folding your legs up to your chest and putting his full weight on top of you.

You cry his name, grasping at anything that was Gojo; his back, his flexing bicep, his tousled hair. Anything that you could reach as he abuses your poor cunt. "That's it. Take my cock just like this and I'll make sure to fill you up," he praises all while digging his blunt fingernails into the flesh of your thighs. He'd definitely leave his mark on you.

Mewling at Satoru's promise, your hole flutters around his cock and sucks him right in before it clenches down on him.

"T-Toru," you stutter as he drills his cock into you, a sob rocking your shoulders. "H-How do I know I'm about to ㅡ fuck ㅡ cum..?"

And when Gojo pinches your clit, his cock pressing into your sweet spot and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, your orgasm comes crashing down on you in waves.

A loud scream of Satoru's name is ripped from your throat and your back beautifully arches off the mattress. Clawing at his back, several sobs spill from your chest and it's so fucking wet. Your pussy is gushing all over his cock, wetting not only his lap but your stomach and sheets as well.

Satoru rubs your clit in hard circles, letting you ride out the waves of your high. "That's fucking nasty, baby. When I said I wanted you to wet my cock, I didn't think you'd squirt," he laughs and pounds into your spent cunt until you're moaning again, begging him to stop.

"Too much..Toru, 's too much!" Your squirm underneath Gojo but all he does is hold you still as he presses his hips flush to your own. He buries his face in your neck, holding you so close that your tits get pushed up against his chest.

"Shh, let me fill your pussy, pretty girl," he shushes you and with one final thrust, thick ropes of cum fill up your insides until it leaks out from where his cock plugs you. Gojo groans right into your ear, grinding his sticky cum deep into your cunt before he slowly pulls out.

His tongue sticks out to sweep over his bottom lip as he admires the creamy mess he's made of you; covered in not only his but your cum alike, lips swollen from his kisses and the several prints of his fingers on your skin. Satoru smiles at his handiwork.

"I don't think you've ever looked prettier," Gojo swoons, a soft look in his eyes.

"Ugh..," you groan, feeling full of his cum that seeps out of your cunt. "Shut up, Satoru.."

Contrary to popular belief, Gojo Satoru has the decency to take care of you after he has folded you in half and drained every last bit of energy from your body. He is gentle when he cleans you up with a warm washing cloth, but still an asshat about it when he says "Whoops, there's more coming out. You should really focus on keeping my cum in, love."

You want to slap the grin off his face, but lack the strength to do so.

So instead, you let him dress you into a fresh pair of panties and a hoodie that was several sizes too large. Gojo is dressed in casual sweatpants and a loose shirt. The bed is made and a couple of snacks are now in front of you and Satoru, the heat of the moment gone just like the Earth-shattering high he gifted you.

"Satoru..What does this make us?," you cautiously ask with a mouth full of a couple of gummy bears. There is nothing else that you cherish as much as his friendship and trust in you, but sex destroys every friendship, right? Fuck, you shouldn't have gotten carried away.

"Hmm..," Gojo hums an leans back, supporting his weight with his hands behind him on the soft mattress. A pair of pitch black shades now rests on the bridge of his nose, yet you can clearly see the playful glint in his annoying, beautiful eyes. "I guess I gotta think of a way to introduce you as my girlfriend now."

Your head whips towards Satoru, owlishly staring at him. "Eh? Are you serious?"

"I, Gojo Satoru, would never lie about this!" He raises his hands like he's surrendering, like he's about to whip out a white flag and it makes you chuckle. "So, what do you say?"

With your knees tucked underneath your hoodie and pulled to your chest, you let a pout grace your lips. "I guess I would love that.."

"It's official then!," Gojo exclaims, tosses his arm around your shoulder and pulls you flush to his side. Playfulness quickly turns into tenderness as he presses a soft kiss to your hairline.

"You're mine now."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut

[sundaycentric]

JING YUAN AND NEUV!!!!!

(I too am down horrendous for them)

(seperate) neuvillette & jing yuan x reader

content ★ headcanons, NOT PROOF READ!!, sfw, fluff

note ★ SO REAL!! i love them both sm its unreal.. anyways im just going to do some basic headcanons and drabbles bc im abt to go to a dance and i need something quick to post.. other requesters i am working on your stuff!!

NEUVILLETTE ★

He has no idea what it's like to be in a relationship. He has no experience whatsoever, besides for the in occasional movies Lady Furina will force him to watch with her.

Neuvillette isn't that dumb to take the movies as reality, though. So, he ends up just being a mess.

Before you start dating, Neuvillette will try to his best to hide his feelings. He often times pushes you away, but the sky darkens not soon after. He feels torn.

Neuvillette doesn't even understand his own emotions. He can barely process what he feels, let alone name it. He's confused and worried. He thinks it's love, but what if he isn't? He's never felt love to know what it's like.

It'd take some time for him to start working through his feelings. However, he still keeps his distance. He tries not to make it obvious he is avoiding you, but someone sees through him easily.

It doesn't take long for Lady Furina to find out what's happening, especially considering how observant she is to drama. She'll pester Neuvillette about it a bit, laughing at his reactions. Neuvillette tries to appear indifferent, but the sky's definitely different from what it was before.

For all her teasing, Lady Furina does genuinely care about Neuvillette (and you). She will offer some advice to Neuvillette, even though her experience in romance is just as limited as his. At least Lady Furina can work out her emotions, though.

Gradually, Neuvillette accepts your presence and allows him to take pleasure in it. A month ago, he was doing everything to stay out of your way, but now is he practically near you every time he can be.

He tries not to talk to you too much, though. He gets flustered. Although you might not be able to see it on his face, you might notice the sky becoming brighter—way brighter than normal when you talk to him.

He will never confess first. Well, unless he felt like he had to to avoid loosing you. Other that that scenario, though, he will keep quiet until you say something

Once you do say something and confess your feelings to him, Neuvillette will be so happy. His face might be a little smile, but there is no rain for entire week and lot's of people are getting sunburnt..

He will try his best to keep you happy. Neuvillette is very big on communication since he doesn't always understand what you feel. He does try though.

Neuvillette still doesn't talk much about himself. Instead, he prefers to listen to you. Even the small, mundane things you did during your day put a smile on his face.

Overall, he is very kind and considerate. Maybe even too much. He's scared of hurting you or pushing you away because of how he is. That hasn't happened yet, though. :)

JING YUAN ★

He definitely knows what he is doing. He's had some experience in the past, both watching and doing. Although, it is different when it comes to you.

Jing Yuan took interest in you. He was curious. Why? He doesn't know himself. He just likes you presence. You remind him of his finches, maybe even lion sometimes.

He learns as much as he can about you without being seen as creepy. He'll pay attention attention to you at events or when he is in public. When he catches you staring at him, he feels warm.

Eventually, he begins to come up to you. Jing Yuan prefers to take things slow, and really wants to come up with some sort of strategy to win your heart. It's a bit hard, though. He doesn't want to manipulate you, you aren't his enemy.

Jing Yuan tries to keep things in his control, both so he can spend as much time with you possible and just because he likes it. He will pay for your lunches, buy you things you like, pay for your trips. Jing Yuan has enough money, and he is willing to spend it all if you ask for it.

He'll slowly try to become closer with you. He doesn't want to push you away. After all, Jing Yuan has all the time in the world to wait for you. He only hopes you'll actually go to him.

Jing Yuan seems more unfocused at work now. He is usually not paying attention anyways (as he is sleeping), but it's becoming a bit worse now. Lady Fu catches on quick and reprimands him.

Jing Yuan, in his tired state, tries to excuse himself before Lady Fu gets angrier. He ends up slipping and saying your name. The two of them stare at each other before Fu Xuan starts scolding him again.

Fu Xuan is mad at Jing Yuan, yes, but she cannot deny that she cares about Jing Yuan. So, she might peek into the future to see if the two of you are together. She refuses to tell Jing Yuan what she sees, but she smiles as soon as he leaves.

Jing Yuan may be first to confess. He is fine with either. In the case that he confesses, he'll laugh at the way your face lights up. If you confess first, he'll find it funny how you seem a bit unsure of yourself.

He will reassure you with a kiss on the cheek before telling you that he loves you. Jing Yuan will hug you tightly while he sleeps and take care of anything you need.

He is like a teddy bear. :)

He is attentive, and he always knows what you're feeling. He might tease you sometimes, but he is ultimately very sweet and protective over you.

Yanqing definitely looks up to you as another parental figure. Good luck with that.

Overall, very nice to sleep on. He'll take care of everything he can for you and treat you like a precious gem.

#★ neuviyuan #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x yn #neuvillette x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x yn #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan fluff #neuvillette fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #headcanon #character x reader #x reader