#Been wanting to draw something like this for a while

[umblrspectrum]

i hate perspective. happy new years also

[teaboot]

One time my mom took me to a hibachi grill with a bunch of her friends and if you've never been to a hibachi grill basically the draw is that theres a bunch of interactive performance stuff done by the cook who cooks for you at your table, and one of the tricks they did at this one was take a squeeze bottle full of liquor and shoot it into your mouth across the table (with permission)

And now at our table my mom explained this because it was my first time going, and she wanted to make sure to warn me it was liquor because she knows I don't drink- she just said "if he offers to shoot at your mouth, say no because it's alcohol".

And so the chef does his thing and it's all very impressive, but the time does come where he pulls out this squeeze bottle of booze and asks me if I wanna try

I of course say no, because I really don't do alcohol, so he moves on to someone else

And I watch, and slowly come to understand that this is some sort of game, because once someone is drinking from the continuous flow the chef starts counting "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

I realize that we're trying to see who can keep drinking the liquor from three feet away without choking or spilling, and its a bummer cause i kinda wanna try and I CAN'T

But he goes around the table with everyone there, and I think my mom makes it to three, one friend makes it to five, I think my brother got to three as well, and he comes back to me

And I'm REALLY bummed out now but I will not drink alcohol, so I sort of sadly repeat that I can't when he pulls out a SECOND BOTTLE and grins and goes "juice?"

And Im like FUCK YEAH LET'S GO and I'm a bit worried he's gonna spray it into my eye or something but he doesn't, it hits me right at the back of the throat, and I start drinking while the whole fucking table counts "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

And like

It just sorta

Kept going?

And Im looking at the chef and he starts freaking out by the time we get to six, and at around seven I kinda start looking around and my auntie is staring back in shock, my brother is laughing his ass off and my mom has her face in her hands

And then at like nine or ten it gets like. Super tense and quiet, and only the chef is still counting

And I guess it got too much for even him cause we're at eleven and I don't believe in quitting early and it is almost painful how awkward it's getting

So he cuts me off at twelve and raises his hands in the air and everyone else cheers and claps like a dumb movie

and I just sit back in my seat to look back at my mother staring at me surrounded by everyone she knows, bright fucking red in the face and choking with honest to god tears in her eyes and she puts her face back in her palms and starts chanting "I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know"

So I give her the biggest, proudest grin and tell her, "I won."

So now every time something suggestive happens in a movie, or in conversation, or something shocking happens around us and she goes to jokingly cover my ears, I just ask her, "Remember when I won?" And she goes face-down and groans, because I know EXACTLY how she thinks I trained to develop that particular skill and she HATES knowing that about me

The truth is though, I'm a whole ass 28 year old virgin. I've never so much as kissed anyone in my life. I had no idea I could do that trick until that exact moment

But she doesn't know that, and I'm never gonna tell her

[jjkbambi]

frat flu luigi mangione x virgin!reader 18+

summary!!! (smut inspired by this request) you’re set to interview frat president luigi mangione for the penn newsletter!

note: fratboy!luigi but not reallyyyy associated to that cheating demon storyline. written as a standalone but could be seen as a prequel if you squint. unedited but happy new years

warnings: long fic cuz we need a reason to be fuckin, sad bc luigi’s sad, comfort, an attempt at fluff, and of course smut, dubcon (he grinds on you while you’re sleeping), so dry humping, p in dis v (VIRGINNN)

luigi mangione, as described by his fraternity brothers: “cool,” “mega smart,” and “totally chill.” all phrases you could blindly draw from a hat to describe a stranger walking down the street.

surely, this couldn’t be your debut in penn today. a spotlight on the brightest mind on campus, phi kappa psi fraternity president luigi mangione. top of his class at a mysterious luxury private high school, started a hash brown business at sixteen, and, according to his linkedin, volunteers at local libraries, elderly homes, and animal shelters during breaks back home. he’s got a first aid/cpr certification, a bartending license, and a squeaky clean record.

“he doesn’t even complain on yelp,” you groan.

your friend, lacy, sits in the drivers seat, shaking her head. “maybe he’s just nice.”

you shoot a glare at her.

she raises her hands, defensive. “i’ve only heard good things!”

“oh, well, if he was really so nice, he wouldn’t have canceled on me a hundred and one times.” as if he’d heard you, your phone pings—his name flashing on the screen.

from luigi Hey pretty! Something came up today. So sorry. Can I see you another time?

“one hundred and two,” you declare, showing her your phone screen. at this point, it felt less like inconvenience and more like cruelty. his constant rejections, delayed responses, and last-minute reschedules were a relentless reminder of your looming failure to finish the piece on the phi kappa psi house. journalism club was going to fucking kill you.

“y/n, he literally could not have been nicer.” she finally puts the car into park. the both of you look outside.

frustration had been simmering for weeks, growing with every missed promise. almost two months ago, he’d smiled big and earnest, assuring you he’d meet for the interview—yet here you were, still waiting. the distance between you two seemed to stretch with every passing day, and you couldn’t summon the energy to pretend you still cared for niceties.

you’re outside his fraternity house, calling him, he surprises you by answering almost immediately, his voice low and hoarse, like he’s just woken up. “hello?”

“hi, it’s y/n.”

“oh,” he says, tone dipping as he cleared his throat. “hey, how are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i just wanted to talk—”

“yeah, i know ‘m sorry,” he tells you, sincerity to be debated. “i’ve just been a bit all over the place these past few weeks.”

lacy mouths, “im staying in the car.”

nodding, you hop out, a familiar sense of anticipation lingering. it’s not your first time at the fraternity house, but each visit feels different. the mansion, though grand, has a worn charm—earth-toned walls and overgrown grass, with boys constantly darting across the yard. trash cans overflow with aluminum cans, remnants of the never-ending chaos.

“no, i get it, i do. i, you know, am busy all the time.”

“oh, i’m sure,” he says. “are you free next weekend?”

you didn’t even have to check your schedule to know you were free. but you were already here. “well, actually, i just, um…” you feel a bit of your confidence deflating as you trespass their yard. your face flushes and you suddenly feel the eyes of the other brothers staring at your silhouette like curious dogs, unsure of whether to bark or bite. “i was just passing by the neighborhood, i was wondering if i could come over now?”

he yawns. “what? you mean right now?”

“is that alright?”

“how far away are you?”

“yeah, uh, i’m outside your front door.”

“oh?” he says, clearly taken off-guard. the embarrassment finally settles in. what the hell were you doing?

“you know what, never mind. i’m so sorry,” you flush, spinning on your heel and rushing down the steps, avoiding eye contact with the other guys.

you’re not sure if it’s your heart stopping or the phone call ending, but it’s in that moment that the blackwood door opens. you turn around, and the brown-haired boy steps through, looking disheveled, with dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept. though, despite that, he’s in gray sweatpants and a long sleeved black compression shirt.

“y/n, come on in,” luigi says, his voice booming, almost too loud for the quiet pennsylvania street. he glances toward the team of players in the front yard, bringing attention to you all over again. “this is the journalist for the penn.”

you shuffle up the steps again. “it’s called penn daily.”

“right,” he nods, eyes searching your body up and down. “you want a jacket?”

you’re in leggings and a tank top. you’re shivering. “no, no, i like the cold.”

the brown-haired boy shakes his head, grabbing one off the coat rack anyway and tossing it over to you.

“you’ll like the jacket even better.”

as he guides you through the house, the weight of the silence surrounds you. you’ve only ever seen the place during parties—neon LED lights casting strange shadows, tables covered in empty Solo cups and suspicious piles of random powders. it always felt like a place of unrecognizable chaos, where everyone was too busy to think about much else but the next round of shots or whatever game they were playing. but today, in the quiet of the late morning, the house feels different. the lights aren’t flashing, the music isn’t blasting, and there’s no throng of people rushing around. it feels oddly intimate, even though it’s still just as cluttered as always.

“is this what it looks like clean?” you ask, only half-joking.

“be nice,” luigi barks, tone plain as he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. “we had a long night yesterday,” he gestures to the crowds of twentysomethings outside, one group cleaning off the mountain of soda and beer cans off the plastic gray tables, the other playing ping pong. “another long night ahead. you should come.”

the invitation doesn’t sway you, you’re distracted by his face. though his curly hair is neatly cut, and his chocolate brown eyes hold a quiet, dark intensity. his tall frame fills up the room, the way he stands commanding attention without trying. his features are sharp, framed by thick eyebrows, and his smile is small, barely there, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he offers it to you as if it’s expected. there’s an underlying feeling you can’t shake. it’s like you can tell it’s forced. you’ve seen enough of him in passing (and in stalking) to know this isn’t the usual “luigi” you’re used to seeing at parties or around campus.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “you know, if today’s a bad day, you don’t have to—”

“no, babe, it’s fine,” he says, the term rolling off his tongue like it’s second nature.

in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve picked up on his knack for nicknames and gathered you probably shouldn’t be flattered—all the boys in this frat were entirely too flirty.

he pushes the door to his bedroom open, stepping aside to let you in. “shouldn’t take too long, right?”

“sure,” you lie as you slip past him, fingers brushing over the notepad tucked in your back pocket, your mind racing with questions you’re suddenly too aware of.

“well then, it’s no rush,” he says.

quickly, you notice the collection of allergy medication at his desk. a heinous amount of nyquil, half-empty bottles scattered among crumpled tissues and unopened water bottles. it’s almost comical, the way his organized chaos betrays the “untouchable golden boy” image you’d pieced together. his desk, once probably neat and deliberate, now looks like the scene of a losing battle against the flu. curious, you ask, “bad fever?”

luigi laughs dryly. “something bad, that’s for sure.”

you feel yourself sink at the admission. instinctively, you reach up to feel his forehead, your fingers hovering just shy of his skin. it’s a simple gesture, something you wouldn’t think twice about doing for one of your roommates, but as soon as your hand makes contact, he stiffens, his body recoiling ever so slightly. the movement is subtle but enough to make you hesitate, pulling your hand back as his lashes flicker up to meet yours.

“jesus christ,” you gasp. “you’re burning up.”

luigi doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you just a moment too long, his eyes a little softer than usual.

“think i’ll be fine,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to brush it off. it feels more like he’s saying it for both of you than for himself.

a pang of guilt hits you hard—a reminder of how you’d pushed for this interview while he was clearly feeling terrible. all those ridiculous, relentless messages, the nagging about deadlines while he was probably just trying to get through the day. god, you feel like an idiot.

you cup his cheeks, serious. “you should really get to bed.”

“what, and miss the privilege of being interrogated by the penn’s finest?” he teases, leaning into you. you’re struck at how warm he was, how utterly unprofessional you were coming off as, how awful it would be to pull away.

the article, you remind yourself, inching away. “if you pass out mid-question, it’s not going to make for a great article.”

“least i’ll be a shoo-in for the sympathy vote next semester,” luigi says with a wry chuckle, his tone light but laced with something deeper as he glances back up at you, almost as if testing your reaction.

“come on,” he reaches for your hand when you frown, interlocking your fingers and swaying you. he doesn’t pull you too close, something about the way he’s looking at you has you sure he’ll never give you the satisfaction, but your fingers interlock and there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, smugness plain. “i couldn’t let you walk out here so fast. you know what they would say about me if they thought i let down a pretty girl like you?”

you feel your face go pink but your ego won’t let his flirting power last. his forehead was burning hotter than sauna, he probably didn’t know what was even happening. “you look like you haven’t even slept,” you say, matter-of-factly. “would you just sit down?”

“trust me, this headache’ll be gone before you can even say sto meglio con te,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

he grins as your brow furrows. “you could put that in your article. successful, speaks italian, looks like shit.”

“i didn’t mean that. i’m just worried.” ignoring the fluttering in your stomach and his persistent gaze, you turn your phone over. “i could order you some soup. there’s a really nice pho place down the road—”

“what’re you, my girlfriend?”

“mangione,” you sigh. “you’re being impossible.”

“baby,” he says, the word slipping from his lips with a teasing familiarity that catches you off guard. it pierces straight through your ego, sharp and unexpected. “i promise, ive got way more interesting things to talk about than allergies. come on, ask me.”

before you can react, another voice calls from outside, and you hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. luigi hesitates for a second, glancing at you. a younger group of fraternity brothers peeks in, looking urgent.

“hey, we’ve got a problem with the fundraising paperwork—someone made a mistake with the donations, and it needs to be fixed or we’re going to miss the deadline,” one of them explains, his voice tight with stress.

“who was in charge of that?” luigi asks, a lilt of accusation in his tone.

the younger twentysomethings look around, feigning innocence, avoiding eye contact. “whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “i’ll take care of it.”

he squeezes your hand before he leaves the room, saying, “stay put for me.”

so you sit on his navy blue bed, stiff and idle, your mind wandering as you wait. you text lacy and tell her you’ll catch up with her later as the constant sound of chaos fills your ears. you hear the house scrambling through the halls and luigi’s answering calls and questions, directing people, moving them out the way. the speakers for the party this weekend just got delivered, the delta 3 girls are inviting them to volunteer at their annual car wash, and there’s a leak in the basement that needs immediate attention. after what feels like hours, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. exhaustion pulls at you, and without even realizing it, you fall asleep on his bed, the rhythmic noise of his busy life buzzing around you.

“y/n,” luigi exhales as he finally re-enters the room, his exhaustion evident in every step.

he’s greeted at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, eyes fluttered shut with his jacket blanketed over your silhouette. he’s not so sure what comes over him, but he locks the door. your peaceful slumber is a stark change from the drunk mayhem on the other side of the door, and he’s intent on keeping the peace. the bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside you, too tired for niceties. without a word or a second’s hesitation, he pulls the jacket off you and brings your tired body closer to his.

it starts off innocent. his arms are wrapped around your stomach, your body limp against his. he cradles into the nape of your neck—and you’re so soft and you smell so good, he can’t help himself. he tells himself he won’t take it too far. starting with small, sweet kisses against the side of your neck, almost tickling you out of your unconsciousness. you sleepily squirm under his hold and he’s straining in his sweatpants before he can make sense of it.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, to have you this close without touching you. using you.

he grinds his hips against your plump ass. he’s so fucking hard, he really can’t help it. he has to have you, but he can’t bring himself to wake you—you’d been so sweet to him earlier, doe eyes wide with concern—he figures he has to return the favor somehow, right? letting you nap in his bed feels like the least he can do.

“you’ve got no idea how often i lose my mind thinkin’ about this, about you,” he confesses. the noise outside is loud, chaotic—a world away from the quiet intensity between you. it’s too loud for anyone else to know of the secret unfolding here, in the space of his touch and the weight of his gaze.

he’s rougher now, tightening his grip on your hips as he jerks himself into you. you were so worried about him earlier. you’d want this, wouldn’t you? to help him out, make him feel better?

his defense of plausible deniability falls apart piece by piece. one of his hands stray from your hip to your clothed core, rubbing you, desperate for friction. he groans into your back. you were wet, he was sure of it, he had to make sure of it. he slips his hands down your leggings and rushes to palms your wetness. he has to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he was.

you shudder at the touch, slowly bringing yourself from rem to reality. the room is hotter than you remembered, and you almost shriek as you realize luigi’s hands had been all over you. he’s quick to put his hand over your mouth, talking in your ear, “‘m sorry baby, couldn’t resist.”

his sloppy wet kisses are hot against your neck, so frantic, so desperate, so needy, his stubble unnerving you as you squirm under his hold. you can hardly make sense of what’s happening. “luigi.” you mewl as he grinds his clothed cock into you. “what’re you doing?”

he moans at the perfect blend of innocence and surprise twined through your voice. its undeniable now — he can’t spend another second not experiencing you.

“you said you wanted to make me feel better, yeah?” luigi grunts. before you can respond, he’s slipping a finger into your wet pussy. you jolt at the wild unfamiliar storm that grasps you, trying to turn your head over to him, to look at him, to ask him what the hell had gotten into him. he kisses you when your head tilts, his free hand wrapping around your throat.

“that’s so much fuckin’ better,” he tells you, stretching your core out with another two fingers. he’s so eager—so intent on making a mess of you, you’re almost humiliated at how easily you fall apart underneath.

you quiver and shake, and try to twist out of his groping hands, but he doesn’t budge, pressing harder into you. “you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart,” he swears.

“luigi,” you cry, helpless. the friction felt so hot it made you light-headed. the pleasures storms out any logical part of you. “i don’t—i don’t know what to do.”

of course you don’t. you were entirely too sweet, too well-meaning, too fuckin’ stupid to realize how badly he wanted you. running up to him after his gym workout, bright-eyed as you asked him to hang out. not on a date, not even as friends, but for a stupid fucking college paper. he should’ve taken you right there, in the parking lot, let you scream on it so loud the entire campus knew you were his, saved all this goddamn time.

“you’re a fuckin’ virgin?” luigi asks. he needs to hear you say it.

he rips his hand from your aching cunt and you cry out at the loss of friction.

“yes,” you pout.

“any good journalist knows to use specifics.” you see a cocky grin etch onto his lips before he flips you over and brings you in for a proper kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he sinks into you. you kiss him back. you wanted this, whatever it was. “tell me again.”

“i’m a virgin,” you admit, reddening.

he smiles against your cheek before kissing you again—“been waiting for me, yeah? you want me to take you?”

“luigi, please.”

“what’s that?” he says, cruel.

you pout again and try to please him, rushing into another kiss. he captures your lips gladly, but refuses to bring you to the satisfaction of salvation.

all too mean, he points out, “you don’t even know what you’re begging for.”

at this point you were sure you could get drunk off the warmth of him. if you bucked up into the air, you could feel his bulge raging against his sweatpants.

“i want you,” you whine. “i mean—i just—i thought you wanted me too..?”

“of course i do. look at you.” luigi grunts before he strips off his shirt, ripping down your leggings with a force that pulls your body down the bed with him. his dark gaze drifts down.

you flush at the sight of the wet mess all over your legs. “you did all that just for me?” luigi mocks. “you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

“yes,” you have no idea why but you do. you can’t imagine a world where you walk away now and never experience him.

luigi never had any intention of being nice about this. his morals and his plans for the night unraveled the moment his eyes found you sprawled across his bed. harshly, he grips your hips—sure to leave marks, hoping for it—before pounding the entirety of his length into your purity.

the stretch scorches, searing into you. you see white, red, and hell all at once. “luigi—!” you cry out.

“you’re so good,” luigi assures. he tries to pace himself as you fall apart underneath him. he tries he tries he tries—but your inexperienced pussy molds around him, so perfect and wet, he can’t help himself.

you feel everything but perfect. unnerved and wild and overwhelmed, whimpering underneath him like a sick puppy. he fucks into you like he’s itching to see if you’ll break.

“it hurts,” you whine.

“you look so fuckin’ pretty with your legs spread,” luigi says. “can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

you paw at him, desperate for sacred ground, grip landing on his arms, hard and toned underneath your fingertips. he smirks. “feelin’ me up, sweetheart? you like my arms?”

the sound of skin slapping overtakes your corner of the world. you’d seen him before, but never like this. you’ve never had anything like this.

“luigi.” you whimper. “i can’t, you’re so big—”

“i know, pretty, i know,” he murmurs, kissing the running wet tears down your cheeks. “d’you remember the night you went up to me after the gym? d’you remember what you were wearing?”

you can’t help but claw your fingers deep into his arm muscles, desperate to find a vice for the pain. “oh my god,” you gasp. he pounds into you relentlessly and before you realize, you’re rolling into waves of foreign pleasure.

“stupid fuckin’ tank top,” luigi groans. pleasure storms you as he gets more brazen. he pulls down your camisole, lapping at your tits, biting you, marking you. “wind blew over and i got to see your perfect fuckin’ nipples. wanted to tear you apart right there.”

“what? really?”

“had to jack off in my fuckin’ car thinking about you, about this,” he murmurs before smashing his mouth back onto yours—and this time, you feel more prepared to bear it, melting into his warmth, lips perfectly reunited. you’re shivering under the heat. he fucks you hard into the mattress, hellbent on breaking you in. you’re sure he’s accomplished it already. you’re dizzy and light and on top of the goddamn world.

he sees through you. “fuckin’ close?”

“i-i think so—”

“so fuckin’ stupid,” he muses. “stupid fuckin’ virgin, doesn’t even know when she’s gonna cum.”

“you’re so mean,” you whine.

“yeah, you think so?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hand strikes your cheek. the sting blooms like fire, another cruel signature of his dominance, a mark left behind in his endless quest to tarnish the golden purity you wear so effortlessly. his wicked touch moves down to your delicate clit and the sparks of pleasure turn into storms. you’re done for, waves of white gushing around him as you cry out his name.

“oh god,” luigi groans. “such a good girl, creamin’ on it like that. so perfect.”

the jolt of pleasure within you only makes you more sensitive. this time, when his hands return to your body, they’re clamped around your neck. he’s pulling into you, punishing your delicate cunt. as you quiver and froth, his thrusts grow sloppy and he rasps again—this time more guttural, more intense—and soon enough you feel his huge cock twitch inside of you, sending streams of his seed into your stomach.

he joins your silhouette on the bed, his warmth melting into yours as he pulls you close. his arms wrap around you, steady and secure, and his lips press softly to your forehead.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “didn’t mean to get so rough.”

you struggle to find the breath, then the words, “no, i—i think it was fine.”

he looks at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze deepening with quiet admiration. “just fine?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful disbelief.

you meet his gaze, your heart fluttering, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you hum,

“penn’s finest.”

MASTERLIST ! leave me suggestions and review me <3

[rcmclachlan]

He shoves his feet into his sneakers and then double checks that he has everything: keys, wallet, an old Trader Joe's bag filled with a lemon-blueberry pie, two almond-cranberry loaves, a bunch of cream puffs, ice cream bread, a fruitcake, and a cheese danish almost as big as the circumference of the bag opening, plus the stupid cue cards he spent an hour writing out.

Exhaling, Buck glances at his watch. 11:09pm. That gives him about 35 minutes to get to South Robertson, 10 minutes to hyperventilate in the Jeep, three minutes to do the most humiliating thing he's ever dreamed of doing, and one minute to hopefully ring in the new year before it officially starts.

The plan is foolproof, it's Chimney approved, and it's the only one he's got. He can't spend another two months baking and staring at his phone hoping to see bubbles dancing. And not just because none of the grocery stores within a ten mile radius of the loft will sell him small batch vanilla extract anymore.

He can't spend another two months feeling like he's suffering from something that Hen would normally use the LifePak to fix. Which is why this is going to work. It has to. Because he can't think about what the next year is going to be like if it doesn't.

"Okay," Buck murmurs, nodding to himself. "It's go time."

Slipping the bag handles over his wrist and tucking the cards under his arm, he pulls the door open and walks right into a brick wall.

"Shit, I'm sorry," the wall says, steadying Buck with big, familiar hands, then bends down to pick up the cards that had spilled to the floor. "I wouldn't have been standing there if I'd known you were gonna fly out like the place was on fire."

It's been a while since Buck's felt this wrong-footed—two months, to be exact—and that's the only reason why he opens his mouth and "You ruined my plan!" falls out.

Tommy looks up from the cue cards with a disbelieving smile. It's the same one that had spread across his face after bad coffee and a plea for a second chance. You already know I'm interested. "Were you going to Love, Actually me?"

He turns the cards in his hands and shows the top one to Buck. It says To me, you are perfect an asshole (but I want you anyway).

Buck puts down the Trader Joe's bag and gives himself a minute to drink Tommy in. He looks good, if wan. The bags under his eyes are new, but the way he curls his shoulders in, like he's trying to make himself smaller, turn himself into a smaller target, takes Buck right back to the last time Tommy was here.

"I-In my defense, Chimney thought it was a stroke of genius," Buck grouses. "Although I'm starting to suspect that he was just giving me shit."

Genuine amusement makes hills and valleys out of the corners of Tommy's eyes, and the way the sight of them makes something unknot inside of Buck feels like muscle memory. He used to wish that his own crow's feet were that pronounced; it always seemed like Tommy's were a mark of a life spent smiling. But even the knowledge that many of those smiles weren't real can't stop Buck from being charmed.

With shaking hands, Buck takes the cue cards from Tommy, who seems a little reluctant to let them go, and absolutely doesn't clutch them to his chest like a shield.

"What are you doing here?"

Tommy scratches at his forearm, a little tic that draws Buck's eye, and because of it he almost doesn't see the tremor in Tommy's bottom lip when he breathes out shakily and says, "I was on shift today, and Nico asked everyone what their New Year's resolutions were. I didn't have one. I never do. It's not something I ever—just getting through the year intact has always been my goal. You really can't call that a resolution."

Buck can't help but give a mystified nod, because he has no idea where this is going, but he honestly doesn't care. Tommy's here. He's here.

"But I couldn't stop thinking about it," Tommy continues, and the laugh he chokes out sounds like it scores the inside of his throat on its way out. "Tonight I had a little kid code in the back of my bird on the way to First Pres, and all I could think about was what my resolution would be if I had one."

"D-Did the kid make it?"

"No," Tommy sighs. "No, he didn't. And I sat on the roof of the hospital for, like, twenty minutes sobbing like a baby, because all I wanted was to hear the sound of your voice. I just wanted to call you and I wouldn't let myself."

The image of Tommy crying alone in a cockpit and denying himself even a little bit of comfort hits Buck like a sucker punch. "W-Why didn't you?"

"I was scared," Tommy admits with a smile that hurts to look at. The corners of his eyes crease anyway. "I was shit scared that I'd call and you'd, I don't know, tell me to go fuck myself, or tell me that I did you a favor by breaking things off. Or worse: the call wouldn't go through at all, because you'd blocked me. You had every right to do any of those things, but... I was too afraid to find out what it'd be. So I didn't."

The prickling heat in the corners of Buck's eyes and in his sinuses feels like a warning. He clears his throat, trying to head it off at the pass, but his eyes feel too wet to safely blink.

"But then why are you—"

"I was on my way home when it hit me out of nowhere: my resolution. Forty-something years and I finally had one."

Heart pounding, Buck takes a step forward and ventures, breathless, "Which was...?"

"My resolution was to be brave for once in my life." Tommy's nose scrunches like he's holding in a laugh, but his eyes look suspiciously glassy. "And suddenly I was parked outside your building."

"Y-You got a space?"

Tommy laughs wetly. "Believe it or not, it was the same one I got that night. And as I pulled in, I thought, 'See that, Kinard? Even the universe is telling you to stop being such a fucking coward.'"

"Your resolution is to be brave," Buck echoes, and just saying it feels like standing at the edge of a canyon and being unable to judge the distance from one side to the other because of the sun in his eyes. "T-That's a good one. We could all stand to be a bit braver this year."

Swallowing, Tommy shakes his head, but before Buck can flirt with the notion of a breakdown, he steps closer. Enough that Buck can count his individual lashes; enough to see the fear in his eyes, as well as the determination holding it at bay.

"I'm no expert, but I hear the best resolutions are the ones where there's someone to hold you to them." He stares into Buck's eyes as he talks but, with every other word, his gaze dips lower.

"I've made and broken a million resolutions in my life. I think that makes me an expert," Buck murmurs. "And yeah, having someone hold you accountable is the key to keeping them."

"I've still got—" Tommy glances down at his watch. "—forty-one minutes. Maybe I should wait until midnight, make it a clean start. What's your expert opinion on—"

Whatever he's about to say gets cut off when Buck drops the cue cards to the floor and presses his entire body into Tommy's. He hopes Tommy can feel every single vibration coming from his bones.

Whether or not he does is anyone's guess, but Tommy doesn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around Buck, sliding a hand up his back to cup the base of his skull, gasping a little in the space between their mouths when Buck rests his forehead against Tommy's. He's shaking even harder than Buck, but his hold is steadfast.

"I'm going to nail your ass to the wall if you break this resolution," Buck whispers.

"I'm counting on it," Tommy whispers back. "In the meantime, you should show me the cue cards. This is literally a fantasy of mine."

Snorting, Buck bites playfully at the bolt of his jaw, and tries not to go completely boneless in relief. "I'm so glad you fucked up my plan. That movie is so bad, Tommy, and I had to re-watch that stupid scene a hundred times to get the cue cards right. You don't deserve them."

"Say 'it's carol singers,'" Tommy nuzzles at his cheek. "Just once. I've been incredibly brave tonight and I deserve something."

"Suffer," Buck laughs, and kisses him into next year.

[vi-steponmeplease]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ loser!gf ellie

synopsis: just some random headcanons about what it'd be like to date loser ellie who's js so obsessed with you.

notes: never made any headcanon posts before, so don't mind the setup lmao i have no clue what i'm doing

tw: mostly fluff but there are some smutty hcs (oral — e!receiving)

✧₊⁺ to begin with, ellie defo prefers cozy 'netflix n chill' date nights over dressing up for fancy dinners.

✧₊⁺ cuddling up on the couch with you is something that never fails to make her heart swell, no matter how long you’ve been together.

✧₊⁺ but mostly because it gives her a chance to imagine what domestic life with you might be like—though she’d never admit it, afraid it might seem like she’s moving too fast.

✧₊⁺ she’s a sucker for resting her head on your chest while you thread your fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp as the two of you watch some cringey movie you’ll inevitably fall asleep to halfway through.

✧₊⁺ on the rare nights you don’t doze off, ellie grabs her brown acoustic guitar adorned with spongebob stickers and serenades you with a gentle melody while you rest your head on her shoulder.

✧₊⁺ when you’re out with friends, ellie—being the absolute dork she is—seizes the opportunity to practice tricks on her scratched-up skateboard, determined to one day impress you with her skills (even though she can barely land a kickflip without bruising herself)

✧₊⁺ when she eventually heads home with fresh scratches and deep purple bruises on her arms and knees, she does her best to patch herself up and cover them with makeup, hoping you won’t notice.

✧₊⁺ walking around town with ellie is always chaotic, as she can’t help but scream with excitement at the sight of every cat she sees.

✧₊⁺ bonus points if she’s eating chips—she’ll immediately tear open the bag and try to feed the poor animal junk food, no matter how much you explain it’s unhealthy. she just wants the cat to be happy and fed.

✧₊⁺ speaking of cats, she's defo the type to snap 0.5 pictures from every angle, proudly maintaining an entire folder dedicated to her feline encounters.

✧₊⁺ you got her a dino necklace for her birthday, and she’s never taken it off since.

✧₊⁺ ellie also has a whole mini-figure collection of the reptile and loves sending you pictures of two dinos kissing, always captioning them with: us!!

✧₊⁺ this girl lets nothing—absolutely nothing—distract her from a videogame. but the moment you so much as call her name, she’s running to you like a stray dog that just found its owner.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, you sit on her lap as she plays, watching her screen and asking the silliest questions. she always answers with a smile and a soft kiss on your cheek.

"what about there? would you die if you went inside that room?" you ask, your arms draped around her neck as you tilt your head to get a better view of her game.

she chuckles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw before fiddling with the joysticks. "judging by the fact that it’s pitch dark in there, i’d say… probably, yeah."

✧₊⁺ the room eventually falls silent, her focus fully locked on the game. but when she glances down a few moments later, she finds you fast asleep, your head resting on her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile.

✧₊⁺ you’ve never seen a room as messy yet effortlessly aesthetic as ellie’s. somehow, the clutter only adds to her charm and uniqueness.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, as you sit on her bed scrolling through your phone in comfortable silence, ellie sketches little drawings of you.

✧₊⁺ by now, her sketchbook is filled with portraits of you—you’ve become her muse.

✧₊⁺ she used to get shy about showing you her artwork, hesitating before every reveal. but after seeing your excitement over one piece, she proudly gave you a full tour of her sketchbook, secretly basking in the joy of being the reason behind that pretty smile of yours.

✧₊⁺ one time, ellie asked you to press your lipstick-stained lips onto a piece of paper, saying she wanted to create something abstract.

✧₊⁺ that moment quickly escalated into her kissing you with urgency, her lips trailing heated breaths down your neck and collarbone. before you knew it, you were lying on your back, clothes discarded on the floor, as she devoured you like a prisoner savoring a last meal.

✧₊⁺ ellie had never tasted pussy before, but she didn’t need any frame of reference. she’ll always insist yours is the best she could ever have.

✧₊⁺ she’s a soft dom, big on praise—even when you’re the one between her legs.

ellie’s head falls back against the wall, a low groan slipping from her lips as your tongue flicks against her clit. you wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, watching her face contort with pleasure.

“fuck, baby. just like that,” she grunts, her hand threading into your hair and tugging gently to bring you closer. “you’re doing so good.”

✧₊⁺ in the end, ellie is just a hopeless loser who’s madly in love with you and would do anything to make you happy.

[i-like-loserz]

honey, baby

synopsis: san needs your attention

pairing: husband!san x afab!reader

warnings: SMUT (18+), jealousy, handjob, begging, teasing, sub!san, dacryphilia, pet-names, house-wife!reader, messy endings, light marking kink, reader does not get off..., not proof-read :0

word count: 2.5k

note: i'm sorry, we all need some sub!san in our lives... right...

masterlist

How delicate his hand is, adorned handsomely with understated rings, pressing gently against the small of your back as he leads you through the room. Artificial chatter, decorated with an occasional bout of posh laughter, settles finely above the jazz playing in the background. 

Your heels click softly against the marble flooring, each step lining up perfectly with his. 

Together, you’re a vision of excellence. 

San is the man that everyone wants. The definition of a gentleman. He’s charming, polite, and patient. But also unbelievably beautiful. He comes from a background of old money, but his legacy never stopped him from looking elsewhere for love.

Then there’s you. A woman who can blend into any crowd, disarming even the most stuck-up aristocrat with an easy smile. No one knows where you came from, but they don’t really care – or rather, they stopped caring once they realized how easily San would drop them for bothering you. 

The two of you act as the personification of refined love. 

Modest, refined, and lovely. Rarely sharing even a single kiss in front of an audience. 

San nods to a few guests as he passes them, politely acknowledging their existence, but never making a move to engage with them. He exudes this aura of cool confidence – as if every breath he takes is calculated and perfected. This way, no one ever questions his decisions or fights his whims…not like you anyway.

The wine glass in your hand has a bare sip of red left in it. The rim is spotted with the seductive print of your lips, reflecting the small tastes you took throughout the night to keep yourself relatively sober.

You would have gone for another but a heated whisper, pressed exquisitely against the edge of your ear, drew away any thoughts of humoring your husband’s guests. You settle it gently on a counter, no longer needing the prop of a hostess. 

San’s leading hand presses more insistently against back with each step he takes. His breaths grow deeper, his body draws closer. 

Usually, he’s able to wait until the party ends – watching you with dark eyes as you see the last of the crowd off, thanking them for visiting with that polite smile you’ve perfected. You’re so good to him, putting up with the lifestyle he was born into and taking the role of the perfect housewife and hostess that pays attention to every need her guests have.  

But now, San needs your attention to be directed at him. 

—

He broke while you were in the middle of a conversation with somebody’s plus one. And San knows he was a plus one because he didn’t recognize the man…or his name…or his “successful tech” company. 

He’s not usually a jealous man, but something about this guy…

San was sitting next to you, charming yet another investor of his father’s business, when he heard a low voice speaking to his beautiful wife, “Please, call me Yunho, Mr. Jeong is my father.” 

It peeved him.

You laughed politely, displaying your easy going nature by complying with his wish, repeating his first name before offering your own. San bristled at the sound of another man’s name coming from your lips. 

Who even is this guy? 

There were no Jeongs on the guestlist – and he would know, he’s the one who checks off on that stuff. This is a business party, not some get together that can be crashed so unpleasantly by an overnight millionaire like him.

The investor he was once trying to woo was getting pulled into a different conversation. And thank god for that. He wouldn’t have been much fun to talk to when he’s distracted like this anyway. 

San took that as an opportunity to turn his body toward yours. He watched intently as you continued your friendly interaction with a handsome stranger – who seems to be leaning closer with every pretty word you speak. 

You looked effortlessly beautiful as you rambled about the recent trip he took you on, excitedly describing your favorite restaurants with that familiar brightness in your eyes. He’s suddenly longing to hold your hand right then and there, to pull you onto his lap and nuzzle his face against the crook of your neck. 

His hand moved before he could think about it, gently brushing over your forearm to get your attention. When you turned to look at your husband, the man in front of you retreated from his slow shift into your space, suddenly uneasy by how San was staring him down. 

“Honey?”

At the sound of your voice, he shifted his attention from the offending man to you, the tension in his shoulders easing at the affectionate pet-name. San rounded his eyes innocently, softening his expression. 

“Baby…” He said timidly in a bare whisper, fully knowing that that name was strictly off-limits in public. You raise a questioning eyebrow, wondering what made your husband so needy all of the sudden.

“San.”

San leaned closer to you, a hand slowly shifting from the velvet couch to the top of your thigh. The guests continued to bustle around the two of you, unaware of the sudden tension settling between you. You let him push closer until his lips barely brush against ear.

“Pay attention to me…”

—

You’ve never left your own party early. You have actually trained yourself to have the same amount of energy greeting the guests as you do leading them out. The party doesn't end until you've seen everyone out.

So will anyone really notice a scant 15 minutes of your absence?

Well, you hope not. 

San couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. Instead, he pulled you into an oversized laundry room at the end of the hall, sliding the door shut before you could protest about being too close to the party.

“Sannie, wait.” 

Your words are lost to the air. 

He’s already pressing desperate, hot kisses against your throat. His broad body effectively pins you to the door as his hands, itching to undress you, drag over your soft curves covered by the fine fabric of your dress. Eager fingers grope over your tits before settling delicately around the base of your neck.

His suit jacket rests in a heap on the floor, leaving him in his unbuttoned vest and wrinkled dress shirt – a view you’d love to devour if not for the people who stand on the other side of the door. 

“Maybe we should stop –” 

“I can’t, I-I need you, baby.” He’s begging you – each word pathetically whined out from his pouty lips. “Need you close to me.”

“What if they notice that we’re both gone? What if they come looking?”

Pitiful moans are pressed onto your skin as he helplessly grasps at your body, scared that you’d leave him wanting and overwhelmed by his need to feel you against him.

At this point, San wouldn’t care if the whole party saw him fucking you against the dining table – least of all that Yunho guy. He doesn’t care if they can hear him whining for you, begging you to let him fill you up like he does every night. He wants to show you off, hold open your cum soaked thighs just to show them that you love him and he’s your good boy. 

But at the same time, letting anyone see you like that irks him like nothing else. You’re his and he’s yours.

“Please.” He implores, eyes glistening with a needy look. He gently takes your hand and leads it to where he needs you the most. You give in easily, pressing against his cock which strains against his perfectly tailored trousers. He’s already throbbing from the faint sensation of your touch. 

“Please…?” You tease under your breath, now fully gripping the shape of him through the layers of his clothes. He watches the way your hand moves over him with a dazed look, appreciating the way your small hand looks, fisting his clothed cock with glazed eyes.

You squeeze him abruptly, nudging him for an answer and he responds with a surprised whine, his hips jerking up against you from the intense sensation.  

“Please t-touch me.” 

“I am, baby.”

His dark eyebrows pinch in frustration, “You know what I mean.”

You hum understandingly, slowly unzipping his pants as you taunt him.

“You’re so needy…” 

He sighs as you pull down his briefs along with the restricting fabric of his pants. His thick cock slaps against his covered stomach, flushed prettily in a deep shade of pink, gently weeping pre-cum at the tip. Everything about San is pretty – especially the enamoured way he stares down at you with his signature pouty lips and flushed cheeks.

Eyes locked with his, you idly run a finger against his bare hip, so close to where he wants you to touch. He stutters out a shaky breath, his body shivering from the delicate sensation.

“K-kiss me.” He cups your jaw and moves impossibly closer to you. Your chest meets his as he holds you close, his hips pressing his hard cock against your body. He dips down to hover his soft lips over yours, “...Please.” He adds in a whisper – drenched in desperation. 

As if you could ever deny him.

“You’re cute…” You whisper back before pressing your lips onto his. 

You feel him immediately melt against you, his cock twitching eagerly against your stomach as he finally tastes you on his tongue. You hope he doesn't notice how you subtly rub your thighs together, an attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Your hands drift from resting on his chest to tangle in his hair, tugging gently at the ends, if only to hear that breathless whine that you adore. 

As you draw away for a breath, you notice a smear of red messily decorating his lips. He doesn’t seem to care though, looking down at a similar mess on your lips with a heated gaze.

You can tell that he’s imagining the same stain at the base of his cock. San has a thing for marks, especially because it’s you who’s leaving them. 

You lift up his dress shirt before pressing the palm of your hand against his aching erection, drawing a cute whimper from him. His stomach flexes from the sudden coolness of the air touching his heated skin.

Oh, how you want to lick over each defined ab, make him cry out from your teasing before biting into the firmness of his stupidly broad chest – but you don’t have time for that right now.

“Look at you,” You wrap your hand around him and slowly start to jerk him off, “almost about to cum from some kissing.” San bites his bottom lip to keep his moans down as your thumb repeatedly rubs over the edge of his sensitive tip. 

“C-can’t help it, you taste s-so good.” His hips thrust eagerly against your hand, cock generously leaking as he feels himself already approaching the edge.

Your wrist moves in quick, practiced motions, slick noises filling the space between you. You can't help but dip your other hand under his dress shirt, feeling up his perfect body with the edge of your nails to make him tremble.

“I'll let you taste more tonight if you cum for me like a good boy."

San nods eagerly, but you can tell by that hazy look in his eye that he'd agree to jump off from the second floor balcony if you asked him.

You can tell that he's getting close by the way he's bucking into your slippery fist, whines growing louder and more desperate. It almost looks like he's about to cry as he stares down at the way your hand is wrapped so perfectly around his throbbing cock.

“About to c-cum,” he pants, eyes glistening sweetly. "F-ffuck, baby… Y-you’re s-so good to me. Don’t want it to get on you, though, and ruin your pretty dress.”

"No?" You tease as you watch him struggle to move a mere inch away, hips still thrusting in want. How cute. His eyes squeeze shut at your honeyed tone, knowing you were going to make it harder for him to back away. "You don't want to see me covered in your pretty mess?"

"Nnghh~" You watch him scramble to hold off his orgasm, legs shaking as his hands grip your waist tightly to ground himself. "please -- !"

You finally let him make some space between you, finding it adorable that even in this state, he's worried about protecting you from the people outside.

You give him one last squeeze, fingers brushing over his dripping tip before whispering: "Okay, baby~ Cum for me."

And he does. Oh, how he makes a mess of himself.

His broad shoulders shake as he curls his body into himself, head dipped while spilling out the most pathetic breathy whines against the top of your shoulder.

His hips shake sporadically as each rope of cum covers your hand, dripping miraculously over his lap and onto his once perfectly-pressed pants. Somehow, he stayed true to his word. Not a drop touched your dress.

"Good boy..."

He groans as you milk him with a tight fist, body shuddering from the overstimulation. Your other hand soothes him, rubbing gently over his stomach as he moves through his high.

---

San's panting, leaning against the washing machine with a fucked-out look on his face. He pulled his briefs back on, opting to leave the pants unbuttoned and barely hanging onto his hips.

At this point, it would be better for him to change – his pants are stained with drops of cum, his shirt is wrinkled and stretched out, his hair has been fluffed into a mess. 

Maybe you should just tell everyone that he wasn’t feeling well…

You press a light peck to the side of his flushed neck before moving away from him in a hurry. You wash your hands in the small sink at the corner of the room and find a few tissues to take off your ruined lipstick and any residual sweat. 

You try to fix your hair to look decent – though there is no mirror to really check – and smooth out your dress. Thankfully, San only made a mess of himself (at least, visually). You were planning to slip into a bathroom on the way to the parlor anyway. 

“Ok, baby.” You throw the tissues away before turning back to your husband. His eyes are still half-lidded with lust, watching how easily you go back to being the refined woman from earlier this evening. “Clean yourself up, I’m going back out. I’ll tell them you’re feeling under the weather.” 

“You’re so beautiful.” His raspy voice is endearing. 

You feel your cheeks heating up at the compliment. You try to stamp it down, try to stay composed, but he always knows what to say to make you feel this way. 

“You are beautiful, baby.” You respond with a gentle smile, walking back to him to give him one last kiss. One turns into many. He shyly smiles back, his dimples deepening as you scatter more kisses around his face.

“Wish me luck out there.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair to reduce the fluffiness. 

“Come back to me soon, okay?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a fem!reader who instead of not wanting kids can’t have kids?

This is a popular request, anon. I've had several submissions from various users. Since the theme/idea is similar, I thought I would combine them into one.

Heavy angst ahead, folks. I decided not to sugarcoat with this one. It's heartbreaking. It's sad. And yes, there is comfort and love mixed in.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, angst, infertility, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of surgical procedure, emotional hurt/comfort, implied abortion/d&c, minor blood

Word Count: 900

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

This time, it sticks.

Somehow.

Miraculously.

After years of struggling, of being told it would never happen, of false results and shattered hopes—it’s happening.

You’d be in denial if it wasn’t for the test results in your hand. It is solid, a print out of what your doctor told you over the phone.

John stands next to you, reading the piece of paper over your shoulder. His shoulders are riddled with tension, lips a thin line. It’s clear that he wants to join in on your joy, but something holds him back.

“Are you happy?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

“I am—I.” John clears his throat. “But last time?”

Last time looked just like this. Last time everything was fine—until it wasn’t. Until the blood and the pain and the hospital visit.

“It might not be like last time.”

John gently grasps the sides of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You don’t have to. Not for me. Not for anyone.”

“It’s okay, John.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, and John places his lips to your forehead. “I worry.”

“I know,” you murmur, turning your face into his touch. “But you’re here. And that’s all that matters.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

It all has to go. All of it. There is too much damage.

No uterus. No fallopian tubes. No ovaries.

Gone. All of it. Gone.

Johnny sits next to you on the sofa, his head in his hands. His sigh is heavy as he rubs at his face. When he comes up for air, you know his world is shattered, just likes yours.

“The surgeon said they might be able to save some eggs.” Even you don’t believe the words leaving your mouth. It’s a farce.

“Might?” asks Johnny.

“They won’t know until they’re actually inside.”

Johnny is oddly silent. It’s not like him to be quiet.

“Are you upset?” you ask, tentatively.

“No,” he says sharply. “Not with you. Never with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because an apology feels right but you’re not sure why you’re doing it at all.

Johnny places his hand on your knee, squeezing gently. “For what?”

Tears pool, threatening to spill over. “For not being enough.”

He leans in, face serious. “The fact that you think that at all means I’ve failed you. That I haven’t loved you enough.”

“Johnny.”

He draws you in. “This doesn’t make you less worthy of my love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A heartrate monitor beeps nearby. They’ll release you soon now that you’re awake and aware.

It’s all coming back in pieces.

You remember the cramping, the spotting, and then the bleeding that wouldn’t stop. You remember the cold linoleum floor against your cheek, of losing consciousness, of gaining it again only for the room to spin. You remember how cold you were, and Simon’s hands—of how his voice cracked when he said your name.

You don’t recall the trip to the hospital. You only remember how Simon demanded help while the staff told him he needed to calm down.

But he’s here now—and no one is yelling. He sits in a chair next to your hospital bed, face grim and skin pale like he hasn’t slept in days.

There have almost always been complications—always been issues while trying to conceive, but of those that have ended, it’s never been like this.

You turn your head, and as if sensing you, Simon glances up from his silent musings. You offer your hand. Simon takes it, and though he doesn’t squeeze hard, you feel the desperation in the way he clings to you.

“I’m not risking you. Never again.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Your friend opens the gift, presenting it to the gathered crowd. Everyone fawns over the set of baby blankets. There are several in total, all pale pastels.

You smile and agree that it’s a wonderful gift. Outwardly, everything is fine. Internally, your mind is still at home, lingering on the four pregnancy tests hidden in the bathroom bin beneath a pile of toilet paper.

Each one negative. Each one a glaring stain on the long list of failures.

Kyle emerges from the kitchen with the father-to-be, a massive grin on his face. This baby shower is a reminder to you of all your shortcomings. For Kyle, this is hope—a vision of the future.

And you haven’t told him. Haven’t said a word about those four negative tests.

How many years of trying now?

But you’re still young.

Don’t stress about it.

It’s so easy for others to stick their nose in, which is why you don’t share anymore.

Kyle plops down next to you. The happiness there is palpable, so thick it’s almost like butter on the tongue. You’re going to shatter it—hurt him yet again.

He presents his hand, palm upward.

You snatch it like a lifeline, and squeeze—hard. Kyle frowns at your entwined fingers. His gaze sweeps upward.

In your friend’s hands is a onesie for a newborn. Everyone coos, and something in you breaks. You’re smiling, but you sense the threatening tears.

Kyle’s frown shifts to a sad smile.

He knows. You don’t have to say anything.

Lifting your joined hands, Kyle brings the back of your palm to his lips. Placing a quick kiss there, he then kisses your forehead. He adds another kiss to spot just behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

No one is watching.

“I love you.”

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[dollfacefantasy]

im shaking begging on my hands on knees pls if that’s okay and you’re comfortable with it could you cook some tongue sucking and spit play with Leon like absolutely sloppy messy nasty 🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲

it was a mistake telling leon that you'd never been kissed.

you'd been going out with the d.s.o agent for a few weeks now, and last friday night on another one of your dates you let that little not-so-fun fact about you slip. in your defense, you were a bit tipsy, and the buzz of alcohol dulled the points on your decision making skills.

"wait really?" he'd asked after a small laugh. he leaned forward, forearms pressing down on the white table cloth. "never been kissed? not even once?"

"well... one time sorta in third grade. but i don't count that," you amended.

that only made his smile wider. "wow, i thought you were cute before, sweetheart, but this just takes it to another level," he chuckled.

you felt your cheeks starting to burn, realizing that you may have made a mistake in disclosing this part of your past. it wasn't like you were totally innocent or something. you'd just never found someone you felt deserved to experience your lips against theirs.

he didn't continue to mock though. he just shook his head and eyed you over the brim of his glass.

"i'll have to change that then," he said.

that night as he dropped you at your apartment he acted on his words. before letting you leave the proximity of his car, he guided you close and pecked your lips. something soft and sweet. intimate but simple. your first real kiss.

it would be far from the last if he had anything to say about it though.

tonight he came over to your place to spend some time with you before an upcoming mission. the two of you laid on the couch, bodies intertwined. he had you tucked to his chest as a movie played on the tv in the background. his eyes stayed on you though.

his fingers ran down your cheek along the curve of your jaw. you could feel him staring and finally gave in, turning your head to smile at him.

"what?" you said with a small laugh.

"nothing," he replied, "am i not allowed to admire you?"

he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheekbone. one soft kiss landed on your skin and then another and another until his mouth reached your neck.

you giggled softly and squirmed beside him. he grinned against your throat, not letting up on his affection. his hand squeezed your waist. you felt his tongue slide out and glide across your pulse point before his lips latched on again.

"you know, baby... i've been thinking about kissing you again ever since last friday," he breathed.

"really?" you whispered in return.

"mhm. couldn't get you out of my head. even more than normal," he said, "those lips are just so soft and sweet. one kiss wasn't enough."

he began moving back up, cresting his lips over your chin to below your bottom lip.

"it wasn't enough for me either," you agreed, getting the words out while you still could.

in seconds, his lips landed on yours. this kiss was deeper than the last, more sensual and full of intention. he suckled on your bottom lip, scraping his teeth against the plush skin. his nose bumped yours. you could feel the soft puffs of his breaths on your face.

"of course it wasn't. that was just your first taste. it's only natural you'd want more," he murmured between smooches, "but i'm gonna give it to you. make up for all that time you went without."

his mouth connected with yours in full again, drawing a quiet moan from you. your fingers ran through his blonde tresses. he shuddered at the feeling of your fingers raking over his scalp.

it was weird. kissing him felt effortless and like something you needed to be conscious of at the same time. you melted into his movements and let him guide you, but you also thought about every detail from how much you were responding to the tender sighs slipping from your lips.

your breath hitched when you felt the tip of his tongue drag across the seam of your mouth. you didn't really know what to do, so you just went with your first instinct and parted your lips slightly.

"that's it, honey, let me in," he cooed before sliding the wet muscle into your mouth.

that got a louder sound out of you. he cupped your cheek and worked it in, swirling it with your own. the kisses got messier now. your head spun with the bliss of being so wrapped up in him.

he sucked at your tongue, and your legs squirmed in response. you didn't expect it to feel so nice. it was almost soothing in a way, to have him so intensely focused on you. the hand that wasn't on your cheek squeezed your hip, teasing at his want for more.

when he finally pulled away, a smile broke out on his face.

"look at you," he crooned, "you liked that, didn't you?"

all you could do was nod while staring up at him. your eyes were blown out with lust, your chest heaving with the same emotion.

his thumb came up to your wet bottom lip. the pad of it stroked back and forth, pressing down and opening your mouth a little. so cute.

"messy girl," he purred.

and then, without warning, he gathered some spit at the front of his mouth and parted his lips to let it fall into yours.

your body lit on fire at the sight and sensation. you felt the liquid hit your tongue and slide towards your throat. a soft moan made its way out of you before you lazily swatted at his arm.

"leon!" you whined, sticking out your lip into a pout, "ew."

he laughed at the simple reaction before ducking down to swap more spit with you. he kissed you deep and hard, twirling his tongue through your mouth languidly.

"that'll be the least 'ew' thing i do to you before tonight's over," he teased before sweeping you up in another passionate exchange.

[melanchoire]

KILLER ──── yu jimin ft. ahn yujin

── ( 🌹 ) you’ve always admired karina and yujin from afar, but when fate brings you together for a year-end festival performance, you find yourselves caught in a whirlwind of flirtation and intrigue, blurring the lines between art and passion in a way you never saw coming.

pairing. dom!karina x lssrfm 6th member!sub!fem reader x switch!yujin

warning(s). cunnilingus, degradation, fingering, hair pulling, making out, nipple play, semi exhibitionism, spanking, squirting. (probably forgetting something...)

word count. 7.3k (it takes a while to get to the point but i promise it's worth it)

author's note. first time writing smut LOL so i hope it's not complete shit.

the air crackles with excitement and anticipation as you stand backstage at the sbs gayo daejeon, the end-of-year festival that celebrates the pinnacle of k-pop talent. your heart pounds in your chest, an exhilarating rhythm that matches the pulsating beat of the songs echoing from the main stage. today, you would have the unique opportunity to collaborate with two of the industry’s most mesmerizing stars: karina from aespa and yujin from ive. just the thought sends a shiver down your spine—both of them are known for their electrifying stage presence and undeniable charisma, each capable of commanding the audience's attention with just a flick of a wrist or a flash of a smile.

the lights dim, and the audience erupts in cheers, signaling that another group has taken the stage. you glance at the crew bustling about, adjusting microphones and setting the stage. everything feels surreal, like a vivid dream you’re unsure you want to wake from. you’ve watched these performances from the safety of your couch, eyes glued to the screen, marveling at the talent of others. but now, here you are—about to step into the spotlight yourself.

you fidget with the hem of your outfit, a sleek ensemble that feels foreign against your skin. it’s stunning, of course, designed to make you look every bit the star you’ve trained to be. but all you can focus on is the gnawing insecurity deep within you. would you be able to match the presence of your collaborators?

karina, with her ethereal beauty and powerful vocals, has taken the world by storm. her ability to blend fierce energy with captivating visuals has made her a household name. she dances with a fluidity that seems almost supernatural, her movements a perfect blend of strength and grace. you've watched her perform countless times, her movements a seamless blend of grace and power, especially when she dances to her solo song "UP!" her confidence radiates, setting the bar for every performer who steps foot on stage. you can only imagine the electric atmosphere she generates, and the thought of sharing the stage with her sends a jolt of both excitement and fear through your veins.

then there's yujin. since her debut, she has been a force of nature, a whirlwind of charm and charisma and you’ve always admired her—how she effortlessly steals the spotlight during each comeback, whether it's in a sophisticated ensemble like "I AM" or a more edgy concept like "BADDIE." her charisma is palpable, her presence overwhelming. yujin has an innate ability to connect with the audience, to draw them into her world with just a smile or a gaze. it’s hard not to get lost in her captivating smile and effortless performance style. in a world where everyone is striving for perfection, she stands out, effortlessly capturing hearts and making it look so easy. you remember watching her from the sidelines at various events, thinking: “will i ever be able to perform with that kind of confidence?”

you can’t help but feel overshadowed by their brilliance. they are known for their incredible stage presence, their ability to engage and enthrall. but you? you’re the quiet one, the one who shies away from the spotlight even in the warmth of your group members’ company. yes, you've had your moments on stage, but always with the comfort of your teammates around you, their energy bolstering yours.

while your groupmates seem to flirt and play around with ease, you often stand at the edges of those conversations, a spectator in a world that seems just a touch too bright, too loud for you to jump in. you have had brief interactions with karina and yujin before, perhaps a shy wave or a quick exchange of compliments, but nothing that would prepare you for this collaboration, where you would have to hold your own against their vibrant personalities.

the announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, calling your names, and your stomach flips. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. this is your moment. you’ve practiced countless times, poured your heart into the choreography, and learned the nuances of the song "killer," a sultry piece that’s all about confidence and allure. but now, standing here, you wonder if you truly have it in you.

your thoughts are interrupted when you feel warm hands at your hips. you turn to find yunjin smiling brightly at you, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. "you’re going to be amazing," she says, her voice bright and encouraging. "just remember, it’s all about having fun. No one’s here to judge you!"

her playful words wash over you like a gentle wave, pushing your worries to the side. she continues to rattle off a few inside jokes that make you chuckle, reminding you that you’re not alone in this. behind her, the rest of your members appear, offering you their unwavering support. sakura, with her calm demeanor, gives you a thumbs-up, while chaewon brings you into a tight embrace. kazuha, ever the optimist, grins at you and nods, her energy infectious. eunchae bounces on her toes, her excitement palpable, “you’ve got this!”

the embrace from your members wraps around you like a warm cocoon. for a fleeting moment, the anxiety begins to dissipate, replaced by the love and camaraderie that define your group. their faith in you feels like a lifeline, tethering you to the moment and providing a flicker of confidence. but as the sound of the mc's voice filters through the chaos backstage, signaling your imminent entrance, the butterflies return, dancing wildly in your stomach.

suddenly, the staff signals for you to head to the stage, and your heart pounds harder. you can hear the crowd roaring in anticipation, a cacophony of cheers and applause that sends adrenaline surging through your veins. you share one last glance with your groupmates, and they all nod at you, a silent promise that they’ll be cheering from the sidelines.

taking a deep breath, you step out onto the stage, the bright lights washing over you like a wave. the audience, a sea of eager faces, blurs into the background as you focus on the music that begins to play. your heart races not just from the excitement but from the overwhelming pressure of meeting expectations—yours and those of the fans.

when you step onto the stage, the world outside fades into obscurity. you are cocooned in a warm glow, bright lights shining down upon you and the unmistakable hum of excitement from the crowd filling your ears. it’s your moment, and you’re ready to seize it. in the center, you stand shoulder to shoulder with your backup dancers, their energy pulsating around you. at one end of the stage, karina stands with her back to the camera, radiating an enigmatic aura as she awaits the cue to sing. at the other end, yujin beams at the audience, her charming smile lighting up the room.

as you take in the sight of your two groupmates, a thrill runs through you. karina catches your eye, a smirk playing on her lips as she shakes her head, dismissing whatever playful banter you might have exchanged moments earlier. you feel a twinge of challenge in her gaze; it’s a silent dare that stirs something deep inside you. when you turn your attention to yujin, however, everything shifts. her grin is infectious, a bright spark that ignites a warmth in your chest. she waves lightly, a small wink sent your way that sends your heart racing.

but there’s little time to dwell on these feelings as the music begins to swell, an intoxicating melody that envelops you. the beat drops, and the moment karina starts singing, a wave of calm washes over you. her voice is a smooth, inviting embrace, allowing you to fall into the rhythm of the performance. you’ve practiced, but here, in this moment, you find a surprising ease. perhaps it’s the thrill of the sensual concept you’re tackling for the first time, or maybe it’s the undeniable chemistry among the three of you.

as the song progresses, your shy, reserved persona melts away and the transformation is remarkable. the shy girl the fans have come to know fades into the background, replaced by a bold and vibrant persona. you’ve never explored a sensual concept like this, but something about tonight feels right, like destiny calling. your body moves with the rhythm, and the choreography calls for something deeper—a sensuality that intertwines with each movement, drawing you closer to karina and yujin.

you notice how they both fit seamlessly into this seductive concept, their voices intertwining like threads of silk, creating a tapestry of sound that captivates the audience. karina’s low, sultry notes contrast beautifully with yujin’s bright and playful tones, both of them showcasing their strengths. Y

you are the third voice, harmonizing with them, but also pushing the boundaries of the choreography. It’s exhilarating.

the movements are fluid, a dance that flows between desire and restraint. there’s a moment where you’re touching karina, your hand gliding up her arm, and the connection sends electric shocks through your body. you meet her gaze, and there’s an understanding in her eyes—a mutual acknowledgment of the moment that sends your pulse racing. the way she bites her lip, a hint of mischief sparking in her expression, gives you the courage to continue.

you know what you’re doing, yet the thrill of it is intoxicating. you push the limits, letting your hands linger a moment longer than the choreography dictates. you feel the heat of the stage, the intensity of the performance, and the adrenaline that rushes through you. it’s not just dancing; it’s an unspoken dialogue, a flirty banter exchanged through each movement.

yujin is the cherry on top of this decadent cake. when she glances your way, that radiant grin reaffirms your confidence. the way she moves, with a blend of elegance and playful charm, is mesmerizing. you catch her eye as you slide your hand over her thigh during one of the sultry movements. it’s deliberate, a tease that feels electrifying. her breath catches for a fraction of a second, but then she smiles wider, as if inviting you to play.

you notice how the dance is designed to bring the three of you together, creating a palpable tension that makes the air thick with unspoken chemistry. there’s a deliberate intimacy in the choreography: sliding hands along arms, teasing glances, lingering touches. with each movement, you feel your confidence growing, and as the spotlight shines down, illuminating every curve and angle, you allow yourself to embrace the boldness you’ve found.

the audience’s cheers swell around you, drowning out any doubt or hesitation. you lose yourself in the performance, riding the wave of excitement, a primal instinct taking over as you navigate the choreography. the sensual touches become a language of their own—sliding your hands along karina’s waist, brushing against yujin's arms. each connection, each fleeting touch, feels like an unspoken promise.

this is not just a performance; it’s an exploration. your hands glide across their bodies, exploring, teasing, igniting a fire that simmers beneath the surface. when you lock eyes with yujin again, her playful expression urges you on, and you find yourself pushing boundaries, taking risks you wouldn’t have dared to consider before. you let your fingers slide from her shoulder down to her collarbone, brushing against her neck in a movement that feels almost magnetic.

you can’t help but notice the intensity of their gazes, the way they watch you, and it makes you feel alive. you thrive under the spotlight, every moment resonating with the cheers of the audience, fueling your daring. it’s intoxicating, like stepping into a dream where you can be anyone, someone fierce and confident, unafraid of what might come next.

as the music shifts, you find yourself at the edge of a crescendo, the beat pulsing wildly as you prepare for the final sequence. the choreography calls for a break dance, and as yujin takes her seat, and you and karina kneel on chairs behind her, anticipation crackling in the air. you share a knowing glance with karina before your focus shifts back to yujin.

you perform the head rotation together, a synchronized move that brings you even closer to her. when yujin begins to sing her part, her voice is a beautiful melody that wraps around you like silk. then comes the moment when you and karina place your hands on yujin’s shoulders, ready to lift one leg in a clean, sensual movement. but as you slide your hand down yujin’s shoulder, the touch is softer than intended. your fingers brush against her collarbone, trailing playfully down to her neck. it’s unexpected, and you can feel the tension in the air shift. the audience gasps collectively, but it’s the way yujin’s eyes widen for a split second before she regains her composure that sends your heart racing.

the thrill of the performance peaks, and you can feel the crowd’s energy erupting, as if they can sense the chemistry simmering between the three of you. the moment is electric, and as your fingers linger a heartbeat longer than necessary, a rush of heat spreads across your cheeks.

when the performance ends, the applause rings in your ears, but your mind is still buzzing. you share triumphant smiles with karina and yujin, each of you riding the high of the performance. but when the lights dim, and the cameras shift away from the three of you, you notice something that makes your heart skip a beat.

karina’s gaze is locked onto you, a smirk still playing on her lips. there’s a fierce intensity in her eyes, something deeper that you hadn’t noticed before, and it sends a rush of warmth through your body. but it’s yujin who catches your breath. she’s watching you with a look that is almost predatory, her charming smile replaced by something more charged, more dangerous.

you take a step back, heart racing, feeling exposed under their scrutiny. the teasing glances you exchanged earlier now seem to hold a weight you hadn’t anticipated. there's electricity in the air, a connection that feels almost palpable.

in that moment, you’re caught between the two of them, each exuding their own allure and charm. karina, with her bold confidence and smirk that promises mischief; yujin, with her radiant smile and eyes that glimmer with something more than mere friendship. you can feel the tension thickening, and for a fleeting second, you wonder if perhaps there’s something more behind those gazes.

you’ve just come off the stage, adrenaline coursing through your veins, the echoes of cheers still ringing in your ears. the performance was electric; every move, every beat resonated with the crowd, and you can still feel the heat of the spotlight. as you stride towards your dressing room, the noise of the world outside fades away, leaving only the rush of your own heartbeat and the thrill of collaboration with karina and yujin lingering in your mind.

the door swings open, and you step inside, immediately met with the soft glow of the room’s lights. your heart rate begins to settle, and you reach for a bottle of water on the table, taking a long, refreshing gulp. you lean against the cool surface, savoring the moment of stillness. the stage may have been a whirlwind, but this was your sanctuary.

as you make your way to the plush couch in the corner, the soft fabric welcoming you like an old friend, you hear the door creak open behind you. karina and yujin stride in, their energy still crackling, filling the small space with a palpable tension.

“hey!” karina says, a hint of something serious in her tone as she stands directly in front of you, blocking your path. “did you enjoy the performance?”

you look up, meeting her gaze. there’s something in the intensity of her eyes that makes you hesitate. “yeah, it was fun,” you reply vaguely, hoping to downplay her curiosity. but as you attempt to sidestep her, she’s quick to take a step closer.

but she doesn’t let you off the hook. “fun?” she echoes, her voice laced with skepticism. “it looked like you were having a lot more than just fun with us out there. you seemed quite happy being... touchy.” she presses, her eyes narrowing playfully yet intensely.

a rush of heat floods your cheeks at her words, and you try to sidestep her again, seeking refuge in the comfort of the couch, but she’s faster. her fingers wrap around your forearm, gently but firmly holding you in place. “what’s the rush? you don’t want to talk about it?”

you try to step around her, but she moves in front of you, her presence blocking your way. “c’mon, just answer me,” she insists.

“seriously? can’t you just let me breathe for a second?” you attempt to sound annoyed, but there’s an undercurrent of tension you can’t shake off.

then, as you make an attempt to back away, you collide with yujin, who had been standing quietly behind you. the sudden contact sends a jolt through your body, your back hitting her chest. you look over your shoulder, and she flashes a teasing smile that sends shivers down your spine.

“oh, what’s this?” yujin coos, her voice playful yet laced with challenge. “i didn’t know that beneath that shy personality, there’s a little attention-seeker trying to come out… a hidden whore craving attention.”

you open your mouth to retort, but the words falter as karina’s hand suddenly grips your face, squeezing your cheeks slightly to redirect your focus onto her. “uh-uh,” she says with a mocking tone, her expression unreadable yet intoxicating. “you’re in no position to give attitude right now. you’ve already had more than enough fun out there.” her tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, one that makes your stomach flutter.

you try to wriggle free, but her grip is surprisingly strong. Instead, you find yourself looking deep into her eyes, a silent conversation passing between you. there’s mischief there, and something deeper that makes you hesitate.

the room grows thick with tension as karina holds your gaze, her eyes speaking a language of their own. you can feel the air crackling between the three of you, a magnetic pull that is hard to resist. your heart races even faster, an exhilarating mix of anxiety and excitement flooding your system.

“honestly,” karina continues, her voice softening slightly, “i think you deserve to be put in your place.” the way she says it is both a challenge and an invitation, leaving your mind spinning.

the tension in the room thickens, and you catch yujin’s gaze as she watches the exchange with an amused smirk, her own intentions simmering just beneath the surface. in that moment, it feels as though the air around you is charged, electric with unspoken desires and possibilities.

before you can process her words or even find your own, karina grips a handful of your hair, her fingers threading through the strands as she pulls you closer. the world outside fades away, and in a heartbeat, her lips crash against yours, initiating a kiss that is both passionate and messy—a collision of desires that leaves you breathless.

you’re caught off guard, your heart pounding in your chest as the kiss deepens. karina’s lips move against yours with a fervor that ignites something inside you. her other hand cradles your jaw, tilting your face just right as if she’s molding you to fit perfectly against her.

in that moment of dizzying intensity, you barely register the warmth of yujin as she sidles up behind you. her hands slide around your hips, and you can feel her breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “you really do like this attention, don’t you?” she murmurs, her tone sultry and teasing.

you’re torn between responding and getting lost in the sensations swirling around you. karina’s grip on your hair tightens just enough to remind you of her presence, of her ownership, while yujin’s fingers trail up your sides, brushing against your skin through the fabric of your outfit.

the moment is intoxicating, overwhelming. yujin’s hands glide around your waist, pulling you closer as she leans in to kiss your jaw, trailing soft, warm kisses along your neck and shoulder. you gasp at the sensation, the way her lips graze your skin, igniting a trail of heat wherever she touches. you can’t help but lean into her, surrendering to the intoxicating mixture of thrill and lust. that's when she bites gently at your skin, leaving small red marks that ache and throb with a tantalizing heat, making it difficult to suppress the soft whimper that escapes your lips.

karina, noticing your reaction, pulls back slightly to look you in the eye, her expression a mix of mischief and satisfaction. “c'mon, focus on me now. you've already given her enough attention there on stage, it's my turn now.”

yujin laughs softly, a sound that seems to reverberate through you. “i think she enjoys having the attention of both of us at the same time, don't you?” she teases, her fingers still exploring the curves of your body with an unabashed confidence that leaves you dizzy.

“wait—” you begin, but karina’s lips crash against yours again, silencing any protests you might have had. you can’t help but melt into the kiss, responding in kind, feeling your inhibitions slip away as the thrill of the moment takes over.

“look at you...” karina murmurs against your lips, her voice low and sultry, as her fingers tighten in your hair. “always all shy and sweet for your fans, but here you are…” she kisses you again, deeper this time, as if she wants to consume you entirely. you can taste the heat of her breath, feel the urgency in her touch, and it drives you wild.

yujin’s fingers begin to explore, finding their way under your shirt, teasingly grazing the skin of your stomach. “i think you’ve been hiding too much.” she whispers, her breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “time to let go, don’t you think?”

yujin’s hands travel boldly, her fingers finding their way to your breasts, teasing over the fabric of your top. you gasp into the kiss, your body arching slightly as she pushes against you, her warmth enveloping you from behind. the sensation is electric, a shocking jolt that resonates through your entire being.

“don’t act so surprised.” karina whispers against your lips, her breath warm and inviting. “you know you love this.”

there’s a part of you that wants to deny it, to push back against this surge of overwhelming desire. but as yujin continues to grind against your ass, her body a warm, intoxicating presence behind you, and karina’s lips dance against yours, you realize that the barriers you’ve built are crumbling.

you moan softly, the sound escaping your lips before you can even think to hold it back. it’s a surrender, a realization that perhaps this is what you’ve been yearning for all along—an escape from the confines of your carefully constructed persona as a k-pop idol, a chance to explore the wild and the sensual, the playful and the forbidden.

“you’re finally letting go.” karina murmurs, a satisfied smile breaking across her lips as she pulls away just enough to see your expression. “that’s more like it.”

you can see the approval in her eyes, and it sends a thrill through you, fueling the fire that’s already igniting between you. with each passing moment, the dressing room feels smaller, more intimate, as if the world outside has faded away entirely.

yujin leans in, her voice low and teasing. “are you ready for us to show you just how much fun this can be?”

and in that moment, you realize that the performance may have ended, but the real show is only just beginning.

before you can answer yujin, karina sweeps the contents of the vanity desk with her arm, sending makeup and hair tools tumbling to the floor in a cascade of chaos. lipsticks roll like marbles, and a hair dryer clatters loudly, disrupting the serene quiet that had cloaked the afternoon.

you hear the sound before you see it—a chaotic crash of makeup and hair tools clattering to the floor, a cacophony that sends a chill of foreboding through your spine. the world narrows into a singular focus, and you turn your head just in time to catch karina's wild, determined gaze. she is a force of nature, an unpredictable storm, and you feel the air shift as she strides toward you, intent on asserting her will.

before you can utter a word of protest, karina’s hand shoots out, seizing a handful of your hair. it stings, a sharp reminder of her dominance, and with a single fluid motion, she pushes you forward onto the vanity desk. your stomach collides with the cold, unyielding surface, and a rush of indignation bubbles within you. you manage to stifle a hiss, pressing your hands against the smooth wood to cushion the impact, though you can’t hide the frown twisting your lips.

the world around you blurs for a moment. the mix of perfumes, the mess on the floor, and the growing feeling of vulnerability all combine to cloud your thoughts. you blink rapidly, trying to ground yourself in this bizarre situation.

you feel your heart racing in your chest as you lie there, vulnerable and caught off guard. you glance sideways, and there, standing before you with a confident smirk, is yujin. her heels click against the tiled floor, echoing like a metronome counting down to some inevitable climax. she crosses her arms, a smug grin spreading across her face, eyes twinkling with amusement. the sight of her fills you with a mix of dread and defiance.

“look at you...” she says, her tone playful but edged with a hint of authority. “in no position to complain now, are you?”

you want to answer her, to unleash the sharp-tongued retort bubbling in your throat, but before you can articulate the words, karina’s fingers deftly hook the waistband of your pants. the sensation sends a shiver down your spine, a mixture of dread and adrenaline surging through you. she pulls your pants down in one swift motion, and a sharp slap lands on your exposed ass, earning a gasp from you that surprises even yourself.

“what the—!” you feel the heat creeping up your face, a rush of embarrassment flooding through your veins. you can’t believe this is happening. you’re caught between wanting to fight back and the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“oh, don’t act so shocked.” yujin purrs, leaning closer. her voice is a smooth whisper, and despite the chaos, there’s a teasing lilt to it that stirs something deep inside you. “you brought this upon yourself.”

“i didn’t do anything!” you protest, the indignation bubbling in your chest. but even as you say it, you can feel the heat of their gazes, the weight of their laughter wrapping around you like a cozy blanket that you don’t want to wear.

karina leans closer, her breath warm against your ear, and the way she looks at you sends a shiver down your spine. “be a good girl and accept it, will you?” she murmurs.

she hooked her fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanked them down your legs, letting them drop to your ankles. then she settles between your spread thighs, her hands gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. she leaned in, dragging the flat of her tongue up your slit in one slow, teasing lick. she hummed in approval at the taste of you, her fingers digging into your flesh.

feeling karina's mouth on your pussy, your head fell forward against the desk with a thunk, along with a breathy moan escaping your lips.

karina delved between your thighs, her tongue swirling around your clit before sucking the sensitive bud between her lips. her hands slid around to grip your hips, pulling you harder against her hungry mouth as she ate you out with wild abandon. the obscene sounds of her tongue and lips working your pussy filled the room, mingling with the pulsing beat of the music outside.

but before anything else can happen, yujin places her hand under your chin, lifting your face up so you're looking at her.

“i wanna have fun too, pretty girl.” without hesitation, she stepped back and quickly unbuttoned her tight leather pants, shimmying out of them to reveal a pair of skimpy, black lace panties underneath.

as yujin kicks her pants aside, she turns to the table, swinging one leg over the table and placing one foot on the surface, almost straddling your face. she wore a pair of panties that left little to the imagination, the damp patch at the crotch betraying her arousal. towering over you, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slowly peeled them down, revealing her glistening pussy, bare and ready.

“fuck, hurry up, i need your tongue inside me.” yujin panted, gripping your hair and pulling your face against her wet heat. she ground her hips forward, smearing her juices all over your lips and chin, coating your mouth with her essence.

you dove forward eagerly, burying your face between yujin's spread thighs. the scent of her arousal filled your nostrils as you leaned in to run your tongue along her glistening slit, tasting her essence for the first time. yujin gasped and shuddered above you, her hips rocking forward to press her pussy harder against your mouth.

“oh fuck, just like that.” she groaned, tangling her fingers in your hair and holding you in place. her grip tightened as you began to explore her folds more thoroughly, your tongue delving between them to taste her deeply.

meanwhile, karina behind you hums in approval at your taste, lapping at your folds with renewed enthusiasm. she zeroed in on your clit, circling the sensitive bud with the tip of her tongue before sucking it between her lips. two fingers delved into your wet channel, pumping in and out as she ate you out with single-minded focus.

yujin's musky flavor exploded on your tongue as you licked and sucked at her most intimate places. you focused your attention on her clit, circling and flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of your tongue before sucking it between your lips. yujin's grip on your hair tightened even more, her thighs trembling around your head as she ground herself against your face.

keeping one hand fisted in your hair, holding you in place, she raised the other to the hem of her tight top, sneaking her free hand underneath her shirt. she cupped the soft mounds, kneading and squeezing them roughly as you continued to devour her pussy. her fingers plucked at her nipples, rolling and tugging on the sensitive buds as she writhed beneath your oral attentions. yujin let out a low moan, her head falling back as sparks of pleasure shot straight to her core.

the sight of her touching herself, putting on a show just for you, only heightened your own building arousal.

behind you, karina could feel your body tensing, your muscles pulling taut as your orgasm approached. she curled her fingers inside your pussy, stroking that special spot deep within as she licked and sucked mercilessly at your clit. karina's free hand slid around your hip, finding your ass and squeezing the cheek hard.

yujin was just as close, her hips bucking erratically against your face as she grabbed her tits with wild abandon. she pinched and tugged at her stiff nipples, sending jolts of pleasure ricocheting through her body. her pussy clenched and throbbed, dripping arousal down your chin as she rutted against you.

yujin's breath came faster, her chest heaving as she continued to grope and tease her tits, putting on a show for you. her grip on your hair tightened, pulling you harder against her dripping cunt as she rutted her hips against your face, chasing her pleasure. “don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop.” yujin cried out, her voice ragged with lust.

karina stands up, leaning over your body still lying on the table, pressing her chest against your back. “fuck, look at you, taking both of us so well, making yujin feel so good…” she purred, nipping at your shoulder before sucking a dark mark into your skin. her fingers picked up speed, fucking into you harder, faster, the wet sounds of your coupling growing louder. “you're such a dirty girl, getting off on being used like this. i love it.”

karina revealed the power she had over you, in the way your thighs trembled and your stomach muscles fluttered under her touch. she could feel you teetering on the edge, your pussy clenching around her plunging fingers. “now be a darling for me and make yujin cum, will you? since you had the guts to play the role of the daring girl on stage when you were with us, i hope you can put that attitude on now too.”

again, karina drops to her knees, burying her face between your thighs and giving her full attention to your pussy again. she held you in place, pinning you against the desk with her body as she devoured your pussy like a starving woman.

she could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around her plunging fingers as your climax approached rapidly. she curled her digits just right, rubbing that spongey spot deep inside that made your toes curl in your hells. at the same time, she sealed her lips around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud hard as she flicked her tongue over it rapidly. the filthy wet sounds of her tongue and fingers working you over filled the cubicle, punctuated by your desperate whimpers and moans, oh, and yujin's babbling moans and heavy breathing.

“that's it, baby girl.” karina growled, her voice muffled against your sex. “come for us. let go and come all over my fingers like the dirty little slut you are.”

the combination of karina's filthy words and the intense stimulation proved too much. with a final hard suck to your clit and a deep thrust of her fingers, karina sent you hurtling over the precipice your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls spasming uncontrollably around her digits as you gushed your release into her eager mouth. karina drank you down greedily, prolonging your pleasure until you were a shaking, boneless mess against the desk.

you screamed your pleasure into yujin's cunt, the sound vibrating deliciously against her sensitive flesh. yujin cried out, her own climax slamming into her as she grinded your face against her dripping sex. she came hard, her juices flooding your mouth as she shuddered and convulsed, her tits bouncing in her hands as she pinched and tugged her nipples mercilessly.

karina continued to stroke your spasming walls, milking every last drop of pleasure from your quaking body. the two of them worked you through your intense orgasm, fingers and mouth never stopping until they had wrung every last drop of pleasure from your quivering body. finally, with a shudder and a gasp, you slumped against the table, utterly spent and satisfied.

in front of you, yujin slowly came down from her high, her grip on your hair loosening as she caught her breath. she looked down at you with a satisfied, almost feral grin, taking in the sight of you, debauched and panting, still buried between her thighs.

yujin licked her lips, still flushed and panting from her intense orgasm. she gazed down at you with a wicked, satisfied smirk, taking in your disheveled appearance; hair mussed from her grip, cheeks flushed, and lips glistening with her essence. she could see the way your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the evidence of your shared pleasure splattered on your skin.

as the aftershocks of your shared orgasms began to subside, yujin reluctantly pulled your face away from her sensitive pussy. she helped you sit up, her hands roaming over your curves appreciatively as she took in your disheveled state.

”fuck, that was so hot.” yujin purred, her voice low and rough from her cries of ecstasy. she slid off the table, standing on wobbly legs before tugging you up by your hair. her other hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet her heated gaze. she leaned in, hovering her lips a mere breath away from yours, letting you feel the weight of her arousal. “you're fucking incredible baby.” she breathed against your mouth before closing the distance and kissing you deeply, tasting herself on your tongue.

but of course, once again, you turned all your attention to yujin again. and to no one's surprise, that wasn't something karina liked.

as yujin kissed you, karina emerged from between your thighs, stood up and pressed herself against your back. she grabbed a fistful of your hair, gripping it tightly as she pulled your head back, separating you from yujin and forcing you to look up at her.

she withdrew her soaked fingers from your dripping pussy, bringing them to your lips. she tapped your bottom lip with the slick digits, smearing your own arousal across your mouth. “open your mouth.” karina purred, her voice a low, seductive growl.

somewhat bewildered, you didn't react immediately to her request. karina's expression changed almost instantly, the discontent on her face was evident when she saw that you didn't comply with her order when she was more than gentle and clear with you.

“i said "open your mouth".” she repeats her own words, however, her tone is more authoritative and demanding, a clear difference from the first time. without waiting for you to respond, she wrapped the strands of your hair around her hand, pulling them in a harsh tug, drawing a gasp from you and forcing your mouth open.

karina plunged her fingers inside, not giving you a chance to resist as she shoved them in deep, pushing them in and out, fucking your throat with her hand. “that's it baby, clean up the mess you made on my fingers...”

at the same time, karina shoved her other hand under your chin, gripping your jaw and forcing your mouth open even wider as she pumped her fingers faster, harder, hitting the back of your throat with each brutal thrust. drool dripped down your chin, your eyes watering from the intensity of her actions. “i bet you fucking love having your throat used like this, don't you? love being treated like a set of holes for us to use?”

karina abruptly pulled her fingers out of your mouth, leaving your jaw slack and your chest heaving. a string of saliva connected her slick digits to your bottom lip before breaking, dripping down onto your heaving chest. karina licked her fingers clean, savoring your combined tastes with a wicked grin.

“mmmh, you taste fucking divine.” karina purred, her voice a low, rough rasp. she released your hair and gripped your chin instead, tilting your face up to force you to meet her intense, lust-filled gaze. her other hand slid down your throat, feeling the way your pulse raced beneath her touch.

she leaned in close, her face mere inches from yours. you could feel her hot breath ghosting over your lips, smell the faint hint of sweat and perfume that clung to her skin. her icy brown eyes bored into yours, filled with a hunger that made your core clench with anticipation.

“you're fucking gorgeous like this, all disheveled and desperate.” karina murmured, her voice a low, seductive purr. her hand slid from your chin to wrap around the back of your neck, long fingers tangling in your hair as she gripped it tightly. she used her hold on you to yank your head back, exposing the column of your throat to her greedy mouth.

karina's lips crashed against your neck, her teeth sinking into the tender skin as she marked you as hers. she licked and sucked at the reddening skin, no doubt leaving a vivid hickey in her wake. her other hand slid down your spine, gripping your ass and pulling your hips flush against hers.

“i know you're craving more…”

her eyes, usually sharp and playful, are languid now, half-lidded as she leans closer. you feel the warmth of her breath ghost across your neck, the faintest scent of her familiar strawberry lip gloss filling your senses. a delighted flutter takes root in your stomach, a feeling you know all too well, the one she ignites with just a look.

your own gaze is drawn to her lips, the curve of her grin promising a stolen moment, a quiet connection before the storm of the stage. the small hand resting on your hips makes your skin tingle.

but then, just as your fingers brush Karina’s arm, the bubble bursts.

karina’s eyes widen, a mischievous glint replacing the warmth of a moment ago. you see her mouth curl into a teasing smirk as she steps away, abandoning you with a laugh that echoes in the suddenly silent room. “oops, looks like someone was getting too comfortable.” she throws a teasing glance over her shoulder, her voice laced with playful mockery. “better hurry, princess. you’ve got a show to do in, what… five minutes? three minutes.”

she pulled away, that teasing smile still playing on her lips, and turned to yujin, who was leaning against the makeup table, watching the exchange with an almost feline grace. a slow smirk spread across yujin’s face as she met your gaze, a knowing look that mirrored karina’s.

then, with theatrical flair, karina grabbed your pants, which had been carelessly tossed over a nearby chair, and threw them at you. they landed in a crumpled heap at your feet. “wouldn't want you going on stage half… dressed, would we?” the laughter in her voice was low and rich, the kind that made your stomach twist in a pleasant sort of knot.

the sound of fabric rustling came from your left. you glanced over to see yujin straightening her top, smoothing down a non-existent crease. you could hear the soft click of a button being fastened, the sound somehow echoing in the strangely quiet room. both of them were watching you now, their amusement palpable. their eyes were like dark pools reflecting the glow of the stage lights, holding a wicked glint that simultaneously teased and intrigued.

“oh, and tell sakura unnie i send my regards.” yujin called over her shoulder, the playful tone doing nothing to soothe the flush creeping up your neck. you watched, dumbstruck, as both she and karina, a mirror-image smirk on her own face, walked out of the room, leaving you alone.

the room felt suddenly cold, the earlier heat replaced by a chilling wave of embarrassment. your cheeks were burning, no doubt a vibrant shade of red. your entire body tingled with the memory of karina's touch and the shared heat between you and yujin. they had been playing with you, teasing you, and you'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

you could picture them now, probably giggling together outside the door. how could you be so easily distracted? you were a professional, an idol, a performer! you had a show to do, and here you were, pants on the floor, heart pounding, and a blush that could probably be seen from space.

before you could think anything else, loud, hurried knocks echo against the dressing room door. following that, you hear the voice of chaewon, your groupmate, calling your name in a hurried and clearly irritated tone. “we are waiting for you to start our performance! if you don't put on your outfit and bring your ass to the stage right now, you know you're going to regret it later!”

the night would definitely be longer than you expected…

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika idea? Modern AU. Sevika and Reader (mostly reader because Sevika just grumbles about it) decide to take Jinx and Isha to an amusement park for the first time. Sevika is..... okay with it? But it's not her thing..

..That is until they get there and Sevika goes into full dad mode when she rides a rollercoaster with the two and now she can't stop because she wants to ride everything with them.

GOD GOD GOD i love fluffy fluffy fluff like this omg

men and minors dni

the girls sit you down one evening, both of them wearing determined looks and wearing one of sevika's old ties around their neck. jinx does most of the talking while isha hands out brochures and drawings.

"ladies, thank you for coming to this meeting." she greets. sevika rolls her eyes.

"you both forced us to come sit on the couch."

"shush." jinx flips sevika off quickly, before clearing her throat and continuing. "you may be wondering why we've asked you here today--"

"dragged." sevika corrects.

"hush!" jinx stomps her foot. isha glares at sevika. you elbow her. she sighs.

"fine, go."

"we have a business proposition for you." jinx announces. "in exchange for a month's allowance, we'd like you to take us to, drum roll please..."

isha pats her lap, giggling as you join in.

"randy's rollercoasters!" isha does a little twirl for emphasis.

sevika groans. you chuckle. isha hands you two brochures for randy's rollercoasters.

"now, hold on a second." you cut in. "we give you an allowance in exchange for your chores. you're telling me you'll clean the toilets without any pay? all month?" you ask.

jinx and isha nod, and isha crosses over her heart as a promise.

sevika grunts beside you. "and what are we supposed to do there while you two go on all the rides? stand in the hot sun and wait around all day?"

"oh, come on, sev! you can ride with us!"

"fuck no!"

"they sell beer." you mutter under your breath, pointing to the drinks and food section of your brochure. "we could just get tipsy and make out in dark corners while the kids ride."

jinx sticks her tongue out at the suggestion, but sevika seems intrigued. isha's blinking up at both of you with her hands folded under her chin, her gold eyes wide and watery as she waits for an answer.

sevika sighs, then groans. "fine."

the girls burst into cheers.

that's what you think will happen-- that the girls will have a great time and you and sevika will make the most of your day loitering around the park.

but then you get there, and isha gets spooked seeing how big the rollercoasters really are, and you and sevika promise to go on her first ride with her to show her it's safe.

but something about the thrill and watching her girls squeal with fear and excitement makes sevika all giddy and excited after the first ride.

it's adorable.

"have you never been on a roller coaster before, babe?"

"it's been almost twenty years!" she laughs, hoisting isha onto her shoulders. "okay, which one are we hitting next?" she asks jinx. isha squeals with excitement. you pout.

"we!? what about me?! i'll get sick if i go on another one of those rides."

sevika turns to you with a pout. your heart swells in your chest.

"c'mon, baby, please? just a few more rides, and i'm yours for the day. i just wanna do the log flume. and maybe the one with the loops."

"and the death dropper." jinx adds on. sevika nods.

"yeah, and the death dropper."

you examine your wife, laughter bubbling up in your lungs as you take in the excited, childlike glimmer in her eye. she's just as excited as isha and jinx. "you kids go have fun. if you need me, i'll be by the funnel cakes and beer." you say, shooing your family away toward the rides.

sevika grins, kissing your cheek and taking off with jinx at her side, isha cackling as they run toward the next ride.

so, you don't get to make out with your wife much. but you get a whole bunch of fun pictures of your family on the rides, a lot of cotton candy, and three million watt smiles from your girls and wife every time they come off a ride.

when the day winds down and the girls get tired, you walk around the carnival booths on the park grounds, letting isha and jinx play games and win bears.

sevika's got an arm slung around your shoulders, a smile on her lips. "'m sorry i abandoned you today." she says. you laugh.

"are you kidding? i had a blast today. getting to watch you three have all that fun, snacking and drinking to my heart's content-- we should do this every weekend." you suggest.

isha and jinx both perk up at that. sevika cackles. "no! no, we can not afford that. but, we can come back for isha's birthday." she suggests.

isha wins you a teddy bear with one of the darts games, then sevika gets jealous and tries to win you one of the strength testers. only, she hits the hammer so hard it's handle snaps in half, and the attendant has to close the stand for the night.

you buy the girls slushies then pile into the ferris wheel.

the sun is setting on the horizon, lighting up the little cart the four of you sit in. isha and jinx are chattering to themselves with their faces pressed against the glass, giving you and sevika some semblance of privacy on your little seat.

"you really had fun today?" sevika asks. you smile and nod.

"it was amazing. i love hearing you all laugh like that. especially you." you say.

sevika grins and swoops in to kiss you, just as your cart reaches the top of the wheel.

the girls 'ooh' and 'aah' and the height and the sights, and then they both groan when they turn around and find you two kissing.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking about an isekaied reader and a yandere noble boy...

(gn reader x male noble yandere)

part 1 / part 2

tw: yandere and manipulative behavior

about a week has passed since you collapsed. after reading the letters, your parents insisted that you should reply with a short note stating that you had recovered. eventually you caved, concerned about the contents of the letters this... guy sent you, but not enough that you felt particularly threatened.

less than a week later, an oliver northwood appeared unannounced near the gated entrance of your family's estate.

everyone was caught off guard, but he was let in regardless. your parents were the count and countess of the land you resided in, but he was the son of a marquis. this placed him at a higher rank then your family. plus, the both of you had been friends since childhood, so your parents caved even with the sudden intrusion.

after he entered, you find yourself sitting in awkward silence having an impromptu tea party with him in the estate's garden.

"so uh, it feels like its been so long since we've seen each other" he said.

"yes... it has" you replied

"are you feeling better?"

"yes i am..."

following this short interaction was about three minutes of silence. he had seemed so... energetic in his letters, but in person he appears much more reserved.

"um... you seem different"

you felt your chest start pounding. your thoughts start rushing while you try to keep your face neutral. it hasnt even been 10 minutes and hes already figured out who you actually were? is he going to expose me? no, that would make him look crazy...

as you started spiraling he spoke up again, "it almost feels like you are a different person" he pauses before continuing, "your parents said that you were having some trouble with your memory... do you... not... remember me?"

this snapped you out of your thoughts, he had figured out that you were, in fact, a different person, while giving you a potential way out.

"oh im so sorry... my memory has been spotty, i didnt want to be rude. honestly i couldnt even remember who i was when i woke up, hehe~" you mentally screamed at yourself because he did NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT!!!

your thoughts were interrupted by his response, "oh im... sorry, that sounds awful." you saw fragments of a sly smile and a darkness in his eyes for a split second. the shift in expression disappeared so quickly you thought that you had imagined it.

he continues, "do you want me to try to fill in the gaps?"

"please do..." you reply.

"hmm.. ill start from the beginning." his eyes shift to make direct eye contact you. while he appears with soft eyes and a small smile, something about his expression feels a little unsettling. "well for starters, we have been friends since we were little. my parents are the marquis and marquess of the land just west of here. they had known each other for a while and had children around the same time, so they introduced us!"

his smiled widened as he continued speaking, "although we were only friends as children, as we got older we ended up becoming lovers!!"

the look of shock on your face didn't seem to surprise him. you begun trying to string words together into a coherent sentence when he follows up his previous statement.

"although... no one knows right now, we were keeping it secret to... avoid drawing unnecessary attention." the last part was spoken quickly and softly, making him sound unsure.

he takes your hand, "please love, i know you may not remember, but i have no problem waiting for you to fall in love with me."

"or... fall in love with me again i mean, hehe~"

should there be a part three?

feel free to drop in my inbox to ask any questions about him!!

[mrcrawly]

Jayvik headcanons

hello jayvik nation im dumping these here bc im almost done with the second chapter of my fic and these have been stewing a while

Viktor

has the most beautiful curly calligraphy handwriting ever but it's so curly and fancy you genuinely can't read it

Ibuprofen allergy. source: my twisted mind

fidgeting with stuff all the time. paperclips, pencils, clips, rubber bands, the buttons on his vest

bonus to that one: he messes with his vest buttons so much that Jayce is constantly having to sew them back on when they come off

chronic nail biter

big sweet tooth

great cook but a shitty baker

"get even" kind of person; probably holds grudges from the second grade

doesn't cry very often but can be sensitive in the sense that he cares very much how his closest friends view him and internalizes their opinions

love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service

likes to be touched but not held (autism)

hates winter because it makes his joints hurt, summer is unbearably hot and he can't stand it, he has spring allergies; default fall enjoyer

animals really like him and strays tend to show up at the lab or follow him around

children like Viktor. Viktor doesn't like children back

kids will sometimes randomly talk to him and tell him things in public and he doesn't have the heart to be mean to them or ignore them so he just sits there like "mhm ☺️" while they talk until their parents apologize and walk off

probably has a pet reptile (a turtle or some kind of lizard methinks)

cold natured and wears seven hundred billion blankets to bed every night no matter the season

identifies as male in the sense that he was born a man and just never bothered to think much about it but doesn't fully grasp the concept or purpose of gender. could tell you what makes a man a man or what makes a woman a woman but doesn't understand why nor care

interested in jayce from the beginning but never felt as if he was in competition with Mel

sorry they can pry the JayMelVik love triangle out of my cold dead hands ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

not very affectionate because he doesn't know how to discuss his own feelings but very good at soothing other people

Jayce

dysgraphia (i think that's the term?) – not many issues with reading but not the best with writing

viktor is hyperlexic so it works out alright

AMAZING at drawing. like if he didn't have the passion for science he would be an artist. he draws out all their diagrams and blueprints and Viktor labels them

can cook pretty well but doesn't like to do it; if he stays at Viktor's place then Viktor always cooks for him

likes baking because he controls every single thing that goes in and it's very exact

both he and Viktor have chronic pain in their hands (carpal tunnel) from spending all their time taking notes and working with small delicate parts

he doesn't complain about his even when it bothers him because it feels silly knowing how bad Viktor's pain is every day 💔💔💔💔

10,000 step haircare routine but Viktor's looks better anyway

used to be prone to acne as a teen (if accutane existed in arcane he would have been an accutane kid)

(i was an accutane kid and im projecting)

shaved regularly pre-hexcore because his father had facial hair and he looks a lot like his dad anyway; he was always a little worried if he grew it out it would remind Ximena too much of his dad and make her sad

took entire days off of work and pushed deadlines back when Viktor got bad just so he could stay with him when Viktor was in too much pain to do practically anything

used to deliberately sleep in the lab because Viktor would stay late and he didn't want Viktor to be alone in case he passed out or something happened

love languages are physical touch, gift giving, and quality time

money doesn't exist to him when he's buying other people things. can't do secret santas at Christmas bc he constantly exceeds the budget

simultaneously one of those people who legitimately cannot accept gifts and feels bad when people give him things

was genuinely so in love with Mel; used to have dreams about marrying her and living somewhere quiet with her

most definitely forgave her for manipulating him on the council and understood her but it was just never the same

bottom. argue with the wall

OUGHHHH my shayla 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

guess my favorite character challenge level impossible (it's so unbelievably obvious)

[aquamanandfriends]

Tim smiled softly. It was something he'd said before they were really good friends, something Azula had scoffed at... something he wasn't sure he believed now, but hearing Azula say it? It made him feel more sure of the things for a moment. Tim nodded gently. "I know you and Natalie have been sort of self-sufficient for a while now but, if you ever need to talk and you don't want to worry her, I'm here for you."

Rafael pursed his lips, "Who's she even been hanging around? You haven't seen any boys yeah?" he wondered, his concern shifting from Elaine now to Izzy-- exactly what Izzy was hoping to avoid. "I feel like she's mentioned names but they could be boys or girls and now I'm sort of drawing a blank..."

"Two full bathrooms at least," Natalie chuckled. "Mm you say that now but you've only seen the twins behave," she sighed, still smiling. "If you really still want to babysit, I'll give you an out at any point. They aren't horrible, it's just a lot. Two of everything." Nat sighed and took a sip of her tea. "You might have to help me pull the twins away from your parents when we do leave."

"My point is, not everything happens the way you'd expect. And sometimes, you don't realize what you want until you have it." It was too entertaining to see him all flustered. "The coolest," she said, choosing the words she knew Elaine would choose. Azula wasn't good at this sentimentality heartfelt stuff. "I'm okay," she said, voice soft. "Exhausted. But...it's obvious to me now that everything happens for a reason." She wouldn't have been there for Natalie if her parents hadn't kicked her out.

Carmen smoothed one hand over Rafael's chest, the other gripping her phone. "You're better with her than I am." Likely because Izzy was so much like Carmen, while Elaine was more like Raf. They knew how to take care of each other, so they knew exactly how to talk to each of their daughters. She deleted her text and typed Your papi will pick you up in the morning. Let us know where from, though she suspected Izzy would find somewhere safe to get picked up from instead of staying at her current location. "I don't know what to think with that girl."

"Same. We'll figure it out. It'd be great to find a two-bedroom with the living room and kitchen in between." Separate spaces, but still together when it mattered. "Thanks." They were good together, but Elaine credited Tim for most of it. She was just a heart-eyed mess. "Well, you two can get time together now. I'm happy to babysit more often...and I'm sure my parents are, too."

[jessiexflem]

– don't sweat it | jessie fleming x reader

content: fluff, crush-struck Jessie

word count: 1.2K

After locking her bike to the rack in front of her local pilates studio, Jessie ducks under the awning over the front door, narrowly missing the beginning of a Portland rain shower. Her phone buzzes twice in her pocket as she takes off her helmet. She shoves her helmet under her arm, trying to simultaneously open the door to the studio and pull her phone out to open her unread messages.

Morgan: Something came up, can’t make it to class :( still on for lunch though!

Morgan: Tell Y/N sorry for me!

Y/N? Jessie frowns. Morgan must be mistaken. Cathy, the studio’s 57-year old owner, was listed as this morning’s instructor. Jessie checks in with the girl at the front desk before throwing her stuff into one of the lockers along the wall. Taking a seat on her usual reformer, Jessie scans the room. The other reformers were unoccupied. No sign of Cathy, and class was due to start in ten minutes. 

“Jessie?” a voice pulls her out of her thoughts, “I haven’t seen you in class in a few weeks!”

Jessie turns to see you walking up to her reformer, adjusting the mic belt on your waist. Gulping, she looks up from where her eyes had landed on your waist, drawing her attention to your face, unintentionally (or intentionally) checking you out. You catch her eye, giving her a sweet smile.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Jessie says, attempting to sound nonchalant, “I thought Cathy was teaching today.” 

“She had an appointment run long, so I offered to step in and sub for her!” you explain, before letting out a giggle, “You haven’t been in any of my classes in a while, I was starting to think you were avoiding me.” 

That’s because she was. The footballer had, in fact, been avoiding Y/N’s class times, opting to sign up for the other three instructors’ offerings. It wasn’t that Jessie didn’t want to take Y/N’s classes, far from it. It was that any time Y/N paid her any attention, Jessie would turn into a pile of mush, unable to think, speak, or act straight. Whenever Y/N would shout her out on the mic, it would be all the girl could think about for days. Hands-on corrections? Jessie’s skin would burn at her touch, butterflies coursing through her entire body. Talking to her after class? She was scared that if she spoke to you for too long, she’d end up saying something like how she would kiss the ground you walked on. Jessie hadn’t had a crush like this since she was probably sixteen, and she didn’t know how to deal with it. Differential equations? Easy. Taking on three defenders on her own? Easier. Being in the same room as you without feeling stupid? Impossible.

“Oh, uh, Morgan!” Jessie stammers, mentally cursing herself, “She wanted me to tell you that something came up and that she apologizes for not being able to make it.”

“Shoot, that’s too bad,” you frown, “I guess you’re getting a private lesson today then.”

“What?” Jessie’s eyes grew wide, panic creeping up her neck as she became hyperaware at how empty the studio was. The girl at the front desk had her earbuds in, and her nose in a textbook, paying the two of you no mind.

“Yeah, you and Morgan were the only two signed up for this morning,” you shrug, “That’s okay, though! Is there anything specific you’re wanting to work on?”

A private lesson. Just the two of you. Jessie was going to kill Morgan.

“I–uh, nothing specific, we can just do whatever you had planned,” a blush creeps onto Jessie’s cheeks. How she was going to get through the next forty-five minutes, she had no idea. 

You lead Jessie through your normal warm-up exercises, unaware that the girl was five seconds away from a nervous breakdown. You go through upper body then legs, mostly giving verbal cues. Moving on to corework, you place your hand on Jessie’s stomach, feeling her tense under your touch.

“Good job engaging your core,” you nod.

That’s it, Jessie was convinced she was going to die. Her brain was short-circuiting, and she was going to die. The reason? You giving her your undivided attention. 

“Try and focus on your breathing more,” you instruct, noticing that she was starting to take in shallow, faster breaths, “You okay?”

“I–uh,” Jessie failed to create a coherent sentence, pausing her movement on the reformer, “I–”

“If you need to take a break, you can,” you give her a soft smile.

What Jessie needed was for you to stop looking at her, or for a black hole to open up and swallow her. Maybe both. Yeah, both. 

“No rush,” you reassure, “Are you okay, though?”

Accepting that there’s no black hole coming to save her, Jessie sighs. Fuck it.

“I–” she shakes her head, “You, uh, make me nervous.”

“I do?” you ask, surprised at the girl’s answer, “But, why?”

“Uh, I–” Jessie shuts her eyes, unable to meet your gaze. Was it too late to pretend like she didn’t say anything?

You take a seat on the reformer next to her, giving her time to collect her thoughts. You, a part-time pilates instructor, make Jessie Fleming nervous? International football star Jessie Fleming. No way.

“I, uh, just think you’re really pretty,” Jessie bites her lip, eyes still shut, “and you make me nervous.”

“Oh,” is all you can get out. Jessie Fleming thinks that you’re pretty? Shut up. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” she scrambles to a seated position, the carriage of the reformer shifting underneath her, “That wasn’t appropriate, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why are you apologizing?” you frown. 

Jessie gets up from the reformer, leaning down to grab her water bottle, “I’m accidentally putting you in an uncomfortable position, and I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so–”

You lean forward and place your hand on her arm, “Wait, Jess, hold on.”

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, her cheeks flushed red. 

“Look at me,” you give her forearm a squeeze, pausing until her eyes leave the floor, “Don’t be sorry.”

Shaking her head, Jessie furrows her brows together, “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you in the middle of class. Totally inappropriate of me. Just forget I said anything.”

“But what if I don’t want to? Forget what you said, I mean?”

“What?” Jessie’s brain is racing three thousand miles per minute. 

“I have another class to teach in about forty-five minutes, but after that, I’m free the rest of the day,” you say, “Would you want to get lunch after? If you’re free, of course.”

Jessie nods, cheeks somehow redder than before, “I’d like that.”

“Can’t wait,” you smile, “Let’s stretch before you leave though, it’s bad not to.”

After a cooldown stretch, Jessie waves goodbye to you as she walks out of the studio, promising that she’ll pick you up in her car after your next class ends. The rain had let up, the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. She unlocks her bike from the rack, then shoots Morgan a quick text.

Jessie: Need to take a raincheck for lunch, something important came up.

Helmet on, Jessie pedals home thinking about what she’s going to wear for lunch, a grin plastered on her face.

[inlovewithmyhyperfixations]

Patronus- a jegulus microfic (648 words).(inspo: @aithusarosekiller)

Regulus was worried. Worried his brother won’t show up. Worried the spell won’t work. Worried how he’s going to tell Sirius about his secret.

   He was pacing now, back and forth, over and over again; the voice in his head growing louder and louder.

    He should’ve never slipped that letter to Sirius, he was an idiot. Why should he respond? Why would he even co-

     “Reg?” A voice spoke. Regulus turned around quickly, eyes a little too wide and skin a little too pale.

  It was Sirius, he was actually here. 

Regulus let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and felt his body relax. “Hello brother.” He said, nodding at him. Sirius looked at him, eyebrows slightly raised. “Did you really think I wouldn’t show up?” He said smoothly, walking over to Regulus and throwing an arm around his shoulder. “You’re my brother, of course I’ll come.” He said, “Besides, now you owe me something.” He added. Regulus grimaced and took his brother’s arm off him. Of course Sirius would say something like that.

“Now, what do we need to do?” He asked, and Regulus mumbled something a little too softly. “Er..what?” His brother asked, and Regulus sighed. He should have never invited him here.

“I want to learn how to cast a patronus.” He said somewhat quickly, and Sirius grinned. “You mean to say that little Reggie wants my he-“

“I’m too much of a bad person.” He cut his brother off sharply, ignoring the nickname. Sirius looked at him, a look of small sadness in his eyes. “Reggie..” he started.

“This was stupid. Just leave.” Regulus said, not looking at his brother. How could he expect him to understand this?

“Well what kind of brother would I be if I left you here?” He asked, and strides over to him. “You’re not a bad person, Reg; you just need a good memory.” Sirius explained. “You need to let it fill you up, you need to feel the happiness.” Regulus just looked at him. “A happy memory? Me? Are you-“ He started, but realized who he was talking to, and decided not to finish his sentence. He exhaled. A happy memory. This shouldn’t be too hard.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It had been an hour. That’s how long Sirius had been in that room, trying to help Regulus with his patronus. “Reg, if you want, we can try tomor-“

“No.” Regulus cut him off, and Sirius sighed. “Reg, it doesn’t have to be an exact memory. I bet you could have a memory about a certain person. Or people, just, yknow, how they make you feel. Use that happiness and, well, make a patronus.” He said, and Regulus glared at him, but he seemed to take his advice seriously, and he exhaled, looking more focused than ever.

“Expecto Patronum!” Regulus yelled for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Sirius looked up from his arm, which was covered in tiny ink drawings, and he almost choked. 

The patronus worked, but it wasn't a cat, or even a lion.

It was a stag. A motherfucking stag. 

Sirius felt like he was going to explode. It could’ve been a coincidence, he tried to tell himself, but he knew better. There’s no way that’s been his patronus this entire time. 

His brother was in love with his best friend. And he had no idea what he was going to do.

Regulus looked at his brother, his eyes sparkling. He looked more happy than ever. “You saw that, right?!” He yelled, and Sirius was taken back to the time Regulus showed him his first spell.

“Yeah,” Sirius said weakly. But he saw his brother. For the first time in a while, he saw him. And he was happy. And if James was going to make him happy..

well, he would be a shitty brother to keep him away.

(@idkjustlemmedrownlikerab)

[kwillow]

Your art is jaw-droppingly stunning. Can I ask, how do you render things so beautifully? Can you give any tips? Especially with colored lineart.

Aww thank you so much, that's so sweet of you to say. <:3

I don't think I can give much advice on rendering; I've always been highly dependent on line-art to portray form and any attempt at lighting more complex than "shade with one layer of a desaturated color on multiply" frightens me.

BUT I can share what I do with line coloring!

This is a drawing I've done both with and without the coloring on the lines, to show the difference it makes.

In general, the color of the lines is just a darker shade of the color surrounding it. The more defined I want a feature, the darker the hue.

The interior lines, everything that goes on inside the outermost line-art, is where I put most of my attention. I separate the lines into tiers of importance and color accordingly, with the most important things getting darker (and often thicker) line-art.

Here's a cropped image of Ambroys holding a very expensive future murder weapon to try and show what I mean. The big circles are the base color of his dumb face and ludicrous glove, and the smaller circles are the color of the line-art for each of his features.

The hierarchy tends to go like this:

Important Features: eyes, mouths, hands, forearms, anything that I want to be emphasized or needs to be very clear, etc. gets dark line-art. This separates these features from the rest of the image and makes them pop.

Secondary Forms: joints, noses, the edge of bangs over the face, the lines between fingers, big wrinkles on evil old bastards, cravats etc. get medium line-art. These forms are meant to be distinct from what surrounds them (fingers shouldn't look melted together, the hair is not part of the forehead) but giving them dark line-art would draw attention from the important parts (for example, Ambroys' punchable grin), so they get slightly darker line-art to make the forms clear but not distracting.

Fiddly Little Details: fabric folds, flesh creases, strands of hair, seams in clothing, etc. These add texture, but I don't want them to be making everything look like a mess of scribbles. So these have light line-art, relative to the base color, to allow them to blend more than the important features.

Sometimes I'll make the line color more saturated or a slightly different hue (cooler or warmer), but it depends on the image and how much skill I randomly roll in color usage that day. It just looks more interesting than just going over the lines with a low-opacity brush of the base color.

When it comes to the exterior lines, I have two approaches. If I want a form to be bolder or stand out I tend to leave the outside lines around the form black or a very dark color. If I want something to look softer or blend into the surrounding image, or want the form to appear to glow, I color the outside lines closer to what colors surround the form or a brighter, paler color.

For example, all the characters here have nearly black exterior line-art. The background objects all have pale line-art, so they don't overwhelm the characters. Even objects in the mid-ground have slightly lighter line-art than the figures so that the eye is (hopefully) drawn to the characters instead of my labored attempt at drawing a cash register.

Or here, the parts of Ambroys that are en flambé have orange-red exterior line-art, while everything else has dark exterior line-art.

Like most things with my art, it's not hard to do, it just takes a long time. :P

And of course, this isn't the "right" way to color line-art! My art style is pretty cartoony, heavy on line-art and low on shading and very focused on silly characters making silly faces. A softer, more realistic, more rendered style, or one that is more graphic and focuses more on silhouette, would likely require a different approach. But regardless, I hope this ramble is helpful!