#i feel like something is missing in this drawing

[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

[crazy-pages]

So this is a bit of a weird tangent away from funny pelican story, but the comment about park rangers having to warn people not to put their babies on the ground next to alligators says something interesting and subtle about what intelligence is and how it works.

So first off, obviously, some people just will not use their brain even if you draw them a map to it. But I think a lot of the time what we interpret as egregious stupidity is just people not having their "new situation" thinking caps on. Because while we humans like to think of our thought processes as deciding to do something and then doing it, neurological research shows that's actually rarely how we operate. With the vast majority of our actions, we do something on autopilot, even fairly complicated behaviors, and then we decide why we did it after the fact. (Even when it feels like the decision making came first.)

Now this doesn't mean we're all secretly automatons who only think we're in control of our actions. Rationalizing or rejecting our behaviors after the fact is a source of a great deal of growth and development and informs the next actions we take. And we can, when we have reason to, pause and really take our time and think through stuff before we do it. It's just not our default state, nor frankly should it be, the human brain takes the shortcuts it does for a reason.

But that means that "when we have reason to" part is doing an enormous amount of heavy lifting. Because if you don't clock that a situation is unfamiliar to you in a way that means your default behavior can be dangerous, or if you don't realize the scope of behaviors which are normally safe that might now be dangerous, you can do some really dangerous and obviously stupid stuff on autopilot. Like putting your baby down next to the gators.

If you've lived your whole life in a city and you have never before encountered wildlife that is innately hazardous to babies, you may simply not have an autopilot feature about checking for living hazards near where you set your baby down. And what this means is that people doing that stuff aren't looking at the entire situation, taking in the hazards, and then making an incredibly stupid call based on that. They're just ... on autopilot. They don't have the experience or education around dangerous wildlife to know that their very presence is a red flag which should trigger all of their thoughtfulness skills all of the time while they are in range. That you just don't get to do anything on autopilot while you are in range of a gator.

It's stupidity of a kind, sure, but it's also stupidity which I think is easy to laugh at and easy to miss just how close you might be to behaving in the same way, in the right hazardous situation which doesn't happen to trigger your highly specific lived experience warning bells.

And on the flip side sometimes very novel situations turn off our sensible autopilot warning bells! Like when a talking pelican asks you to put baby in their mouth and you are so taken with the existence of a talking animal and its humorous dialect and you're trying to understand why it can talk and why it talks like that that you stopped thinking of it as a flesh eating predator which swallows small creatures whole and stuck your baby in its mouth. 😅

Oops.

One of my favorite things about Put Baby In Pelican Mouth is that not only does the pelican have the intelligence necessary to speak human language but also knows how to lie, suggesting it has a theory of mind, yet not enough to understand that no one is going to put baby in pelican mouth.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 4

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

Note: yeah…

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A yawn strains your cheeks but you lock it behind your lips. Your eyes water with the constant glaze of fatigue. It could be the work; it’s a lot more physical than you expected, or it could be your usual insomniac tendencies. Whatever it is, doesn’t matter. You just need to get through the day. 

You drizzle the tub cleaner around the brim of the porcelain and watch it trickle down. There’s a hint of something scented still in the air. You note the bag of epsom salts on the little shelf. You guess Steve took your advice. 

As you wait for the grime dissolver to do its thing, you turn and wipe down the thing, working methodically around the toothbrush holder and the white cup. You even clean the mirror, making sure not to miss a single inch. If you keep your hands moving, you don’t fixate on how dull this all is. 

You grab your sponge and turn to crank on the faucet. You bend over the tub and set to work. Your shirt presses to the brim and you feel the moisture seep through to your stomach. You use the running water to scrub the cleaner to suds. The scent roils in the air. 

You reach to the other side, one hand on the edge as you strain. You push your toes into the bathmat to extend further. As you feel you might tip into the deep basin, a firm weight settles along your hips and keeps you steady. You kick your feet into the floor as your head snaps up. 

You squeeze the sponge in your fist and lean it against the opposite wall. You twist to see over your shoulder, squirming as Steve stands behind you, holding you as you sputter dumbly. What is he doing? 

“You looked like you needed help?” He grins. 

Your mind and heart race, competing to the panic line. What the hell? You want to yell at him to get off but your caution chokes the protest from you. As much as he’s overstepping, you need the job. Your landlord doesn’t care that the market is shit, he just wants his money. 

“I’m... fine,” you eke out. 

“You sure?” He asks. 

“Yeah, er,” you nudge his fingers with your yellow glove as you turn back to your task. “I’m sure.” 

“Well, let me know,” he loosens his grip and drags it around to your lower back. His touch sends a shiver through you. He draws away and the warm lingers there, another spatter as suddenly a clap stings across your ass. 

You grunt and keep yourself steady with the hand pressed to the wall. Your eyes widen in disbelief. Steve hums as his footsteps softly retreat. You shudder as you stare at the ivory tile embossed with lilies. He didn’t just... 

You scrub in circles as you wade through the shock of the encounter, trying to convince yourself it didn’t happen. You still feel the impact hot against your jeans. You rinse the tub out and stand. Maybe it’s from bending over for so long or the cleaner but you’re dizzy. 

You finish up the bathroom but can’t make yourself leave. Where is he? Is he hiding? Does he realise what he did? Is he embarrassed? 

Alright, you guess you can talk to Jan at the agency and get this sorted out. Yeah, you need a new client. This one isn’t working out. You gather up the cleaners and tiptoe out of the room. You stop short as you near your kit by the shoe mat. He can hear you. He has super hearing, right? 

You’re further shaken by the reminder of his superiority. Before, you only thought of the disparity of your bank accounts, you hadn’t even considered the most obvious disadvantage. More than just the physical. He is Captain America. 

Would he notice if you left early? He could report you first if he did. Then you’re the one getting dumped, not him. Between the two of you, he’d be the one they’d want to keep. You’re just another cleaner. You can be replaced. 

So get through it and hope you can get a new placement. Hopefully closer to home. Or maybe further. Anywhere, really. 

You wade through the townhouse warily. You wipe down the dining table as your mind wanders away. The table presses into your tummy. You look down and retract. Would anyone believe you? You’re nothing special. Steve Rogers wouldn’t waste his time on you. I mean, he works with Black Widow and have you seen her in a body suit? 

Stop. Focus. Just get it done. 

You continue your usual path through the house. Knocking on each door, checking that each room is empty before you tend to it. As you find each vacant, your dread builds. You’re not so sure he’s hiding from you out of shame now. It’s starting to feel like a game. Like he’s taunting you. 

As you return to the entry way to grab your vacuum and do your final walkthrough, you stop just before the banister post. You stare at the broad set of shoulders as they slowly turn to you. You swallow and clutch the cloth in your hand tight as Steve turns to you in full regalia. 

Cowl, suit, shield. He’s dressed to the nines in his Cap attire. It doesn’t look as campy as on the television. You can see the intricacy of the armour along his gauntlets and the way it lines his ribs just so, alluding to the wall of muscle beneath. That's what he is in that moment, a barrier. The door is behind him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” his jaw looks sharper as the top of his face is hidden under the cowl. “Looking for something?” 

You shake and point to the vacuum. He turns and looks around, grabbing the vacuum by the hose and dragging it around. He raises the flat end and wiggles it toward you. 

“There you go,” his eyes shine through the cowl. 

You shuffle forward and reach for the body of the vacuum. You squeak as he stops you by poking the vacuum nozzle against your chest. You flinch and reel back. He jabs until you’re walking backwards. You squeeze the cloth in your hand until your knuckles hurt. 

You hit the banister post and stare at him dumbly. He pushes the flat attachment down so you feel your chest bulge around it. His eyes follow and he lightly jiggles you with the plastic end. You grab it instinctively to stop him. 

“Steve,” you hiss. 

He chuckles and flips the end free of your grasp. He taps your chin, just enough to make you flinch, and you recoil, showing your hands defencelessly. The cloth drops to the floor as he raises your head with the firm prod of the vacuum. 

“They won’t believe you. Captain’s got a lot more going on than whoever’s scrubbing his toilet,” he steps closer, towering over you. You glower up at him, stomach roiling with disgust. “But hey, Stark’s got attorneys on retainer. He owes me one.” 

Your lip trembles helplessly and you shake your head. “Why--” 

He tuts and taps your chin again, quieting you. His smile remains as he leans in and brings his other hand up, tugging at the top of your shirt until he exposes your cleavage. You press yourself against the banister and whimper. 

“Because I can,” he snaps the tension in your collar before letting go. “But the good cap’s gotta go save the world before he gets his prize.” He backs up and once more offers up the vacuum hose, “and you gotta make sure he comes home to a nice clean house. Like a good girl.” 

You grab the hose and he keeps hold of it. You hold his gaze as the urge to rip it away and swat him shakes in your grip. He snickers again. You won’t win this battle. 

“Tell Jan I say ‘hi’ and I’ll have that client survey done soon,” he lets go and turns away with a sigh. He turns to the door and puts his hands out, cupping them emphatically as he looks from one to the other. “You sure are a handful.” 

[phamapple]

LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT

When Y/N, a shy and talented student, catches the eye of schools celebrity Karina, she's swept into a whirlwind romance. But as they navigate the challenges of fame and relationships, they must confront their own feelings and doubts. Will their love shine bright, or will it fade under the spotlight?

Warnings; fluff, angst, fem!reader, kissing, ups and downs, Karina is lowk down bad, freader is mean at first, mentions of bullying and past trauma, lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 8.7k WC

Karina was the kind of girl who commanded attention without even trying. Her stunning looks, athletic build, and charming personality made her the campus crush. Everyone knew her name, and everyone wanted to be her friend – or more.

As she walked down the hallway, her long legs striding confidently, she flashed a bright smile at her admirers. She was used to being the center of attention, and she lapped it up like a cat in cream.

But amidst all the chaos, there was one person who remained oblivious to Karina's charms. Y/N, the quiet girl who always kept to herself, didn't even glance up as Karina passed by. She was too busy scribbling notes in her journal, her dark hair falling around her face like a curtain.

Karina's eyes flicked to Y/N, a familiar pang of curiosity sparking within her. Why did this girl remain so immune to her charms? What was it about her that made Karina want to try harder?

As Karina continued down the hallway, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was missing out on something special. And she was determined to find out what that was.

—

The crowd was electric, cheering and chanting Karina's name as she took to the court. She was a force to be reckoned with, her movements fluid and confident as she dribbled the ball down the court.

But amidst all the chaos, Karina's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for one person in particular. And then, she spotted her – Y/N, sitting at the back, her head down as she scribbled in her notebook.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of Y/N's dark hair, her slender fingers moving deftly across the page. She felt a surge of determination – she was going to make Y/N notice her, no matter what.

As the game began, Karina put on a show, sinking shots and making impossible passes. The crowd went wild, cheering and whistling, but Y/N didn't even flinch. She just kept drawing, her eyes fixed on the page.

Karina tried everything – she spun the ball on her finger, she did a behind-the-back dribble, she even attempted a slam dunk. But no matter what she did, Y/N didn't spare her a glance.

It was as if Karina was invisible, and it was driving her crazy. She began to wonder if she was just a ghost, floating around unnoticed by the one person she wanted to impress.

But then, Karina caught a glimpse of Y/N's profile, her eyes flashing with annoyance as she gave a side glare to the people sitting next to her. They were being too loud, and Y/N's patience was wearing thin.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she realized that Y/N wasn't as oblivious as she seemed. She was just... selective. And Karina was determined to be the one she selected.

As the match drew to a close, Karina noticed Y/N getting up from her seat, an annoyed look on her face. Karina's eyes lingered on Y/N for a moment before she turned her attention back to her teammates, who were gathering for a group photo.

As soon as the photo was taken, the coach dismissed them to take showers. Karina quickly rushed out of the gym, her eyes scanning the hallway for any sign of Y/N. Her "fans" cheered and followed her, but she managed to lose them in the crowd.

Finally, she spotted Y/N in the hallway, packing up her bags. Karina's heart skipped a beat as she approached Y/N, a playful smirk spreading across her face.

"Look whose in a hurry," Karina said, leaning against her locker.

But Y/N didn't even glance up. She just kept packing, ignoring Karina completely.

Karina's eyes never left Y/N's back as she walked away, her smirk faltering for a moment. She was taken aback by Y/N's complete disregard for her. No one ignored Karina like that. Ever.

For a moment, Karina just stood there, frozen in surprise. Her fans, who had finally caught up to her, looked on in confusion, wondering why Karina wasn't reacting to Y/N's brush-off.

But then, Karina's expression changed. Her eyes narrowed, and a determined glint sparked within them. She pushed off from the locker and started walking, her long strides eating up the distance between her and Y/N.

"You know, I'm not used to being ignored," Karina said, her voice low and smooth, as she fell into step beside Y/N.

Y/N didn't even flinch, just kept walking with her eyes fixed on the floor ahead.

Karina's smile grew wider, her competitive streak kicking in. She was intrigued by Y/N's indifference, and she was determined to get a reaction out of her.

"Hey, are you okay? You seem a little... distracted," Karina said, trying to sound concerned.

But Y/N just kept walking, her silence a palpable force that Karina couldn't seem to penetrate.

Karina's eyes locked onto Y/N's, her heart racing with anticipation. She had expected Y/N to be beautiful, but nothing had prepared her for the intensity of Y/N's gaze. Those dark features seemed to draw Karina in, making her feel like she was drowning in their depths.

Y/N's words, however, were like a splash of cold water. "You know, you're quite talkative," she said, her voice flat and emotionless.

Karina's face fell, her excitement deflating like a punctured balloon. She had been expecting... something more. A spark of connection, maybe, or a glimmer of interest. But Y/N's words were like a slap in the face, leaving Karina feeling silly and exposed.

"Hey, someone's got to fill the silence," Karina said, trying to sound casual despite the sting of Y/N's words. She leaned against the locker, her eyes never leaving Y/N's face.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression still unreadable. "Is that what you're doing?" she asked, her voice dripping with skepticism.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she realized that Y/N was actually engaging with her. It might not be the most enthusiastic conversation, but it was a start. And Karina was determined to see it through.

Karina continued walking side to side with Y/N, her eyes still locked on Y/N's face. "So, what's your favorite subject?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Why do you care?" she asked, her voice flat.

Karina felt a flutter in her chest as she met Y/N's gaze. There was something about Y/N's reserve that drew her in, made her want to chip away at that tough exterior. "I care because I'm interested," Karina said, her voice a little softer.

Y/N's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing. For a moment, Karina felt like she was being stripped bare, her motivations laid out for Y/N to see. But then, Y/N's expression softened, just a fraction.

"Math," Y/N said, her voice a little less flat.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she smiled, feeling a spark of connection. "Really? I'm more of a language person myself."

As they talked, Karina found herself becoming more and more attracted to Y/N. There was something about Y/N's quiet confidence, her sharp intellect, that drew Karina in.

But Y/N's past seemed to be shrouded in mystery, and Karina couldn't help but wonder what had made Y/N so reserved, so wary of connection.

As they talked, Karina couldn't help but notice the vast differences between them. Y/N was quiet and reserved, while Karina was outgoing and confident. Y/N was a math whiz, while Karina struggled with numbers. Y/N was content with solitude, while Karina thrived on social interaction.

Despite these differences, Karina found herself drawn to Y/N. She loved the way Y/N's eyes sparkled when she talked about math, the way her hair fell in soft waves down her back. Karina was captivated by Y/N's intelligence, her wit, and her quiet strength.

As they stood there, locked in conversation, Karina felt a sense of connection she couldn't ignore. She took a step closer to Y/N, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Hey, can I get your number?" Karina asked, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering across her face. For a moment, Karina worried that she had misread the situation entirely.

But then, Y/N's expression softened. She smiled, just a little, and reached into her bag for her phone.

"Sure," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as Y/N's fingers brushed against hers, sending shivers down her spine. She felt like she was melting into Y/N's eyes, losing herself in their depths.

Just as Y/N was about to hand over her phone, a loud voice boomed down the hallway.

"Karina, we need to talk!"

Karina's head jerked up, her eyes scanning the hallway until they landed on her best friend, Rachel, striding towards her with a determined look on her face.

"Rachel, what's up?" Karina asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the disappointment coursing through her veins.

Rachel glanced at Y/N, her eyes narrowing slightly. "We need to discuss the party tonight," she said, her voice firm.

Karina sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. She didn't want to leave Y/N's side, not when things were finally starting to heat up.

But Rachel's expression was unyielding, and Karina knew she had no choice but to follow her friend.

"Sorry, I'll catch you later," Karina said, smiling apologetically at Y/N.

Y/N nodded, her expression unreadable. "Later," she repeated, her voice soft.

As Karina turned to follow Rachel, she felt a pang of disappointment. She had been so close to getting Y/N's number, to making a real connection with her.

But as she glanced back over her shoulder, she caught Y/N's eye, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like electricity.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she realized that this wasn't the end of their conversation. Not by a long shot.

Karina tried to focus on the party, laughing and chatting with Rachel and the other guests. But her mind kept wandering back to Y/N, wondering what she was doing right now, whether she was thinking about her too.

Rachel noticed Karina's distraction and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, what's going on?" she asked, her voice low.

Karina hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But Rachel was her best friend, and she knew she could trust her.

"I met someone today," Karina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rachel's eyes widened with interest. "Who?" she asked, her voice eager.

Karina smiled, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Her name is Y/N. I met her at school today."

Rachel's expression turned thoughtful. "I think I know who you might be talking about," she said. " oh the quiet girl that her hair always covers her face?"

Karina nodded, her heart racing with excitement. "That's her."

Rachel grinned mischievously. "I can help you track her down," she said. "I'm sure I can find her socials or something."

Karina's eyes lit up with hope. "Really?" she asked, her voice eager.

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, I'll do some digging. But you have to promise me one thing."

Karina raised an eyebrow, curious. "What's that?" she asked.

Rachel's expression turned serious. "You have to be careful, Karina. We don't know much about Y/N, and I don't want you getting hurt."

Karina nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Rachel. "I'll be careful," she promised.

And with that, Rachel set off to track down Y/N's socials, leaving Karina to wonder what the future might hold for her and the mysterious Y/N.

—

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she spotted Y/N on the rooftop, her sketchbook open on her lap. She felt a rush of excitement, remembering the way Y/N's eyes had sparkled when they talked about art.

As she approached Y/N, Karina noticed that the other girl was completely absorbed in her drawings, her pencil moving swiftly across the paper. Karina smiled, feeling a sense of wonder at Y/N's talent.

She sat down beside Y/N, trying not to startle her. Y/N looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Karina's presence.

"Hey," Karina said, trying to sound casual.

Y/N nodded, her eyes dropping back down to her sketchbook. "Hey."

The silence between them was comfortable, but Karina couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N was still wary of her. She glanced over at Y/N's sketchbook, her eyes widening as she took in the beautiful drawings.

"You're really talented," Karina said, her voice sincere.

Y/N's pencil paused, her eyes flicking up to meet Karina's. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like electricity.

Then, Y/N's gaze dropped back down to her sketchbook, her pencil beginning to move once more. "Thanks," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Karina smiled, feeling a sense of triumph. It was a small step, but at least Y/N was talking to her again. And as she sat there beside Y/N, watching her draw, Karina felt a sense of peace wash over her.

As they sat there, Karina noticed that Y/N's drawings seemed to be getting more and more intricate. She leaned in closer, her eyes scanning the paper.

"What are you drawing?" Karina asked, her voice soft.

Y/N's pencil paused, her eyes flicking up to meet Karina's. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them building.

Then, Y/N's gaze dropped back down to her sketchbook, a small smile playing on her lips. "You," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina's face flushed with surprise and delight as she took in Y/N's words. No one had ever drawn her before, let alone as a gift.

As she took the piece of paper from Y/N, Karina's hands trembled slightly. She stared down at the drawing, her eyes widening in amazement.

It was her, all right. Y/N had captured her likeness perfectly, from the shape of her eyes to the curve of her smile. But it was more than just a physical likeness - Y/N had somehow managed to capture her spirit, her essence.

Karina's eyes stung with tears as she looked up at Y/N. "It's beautiful," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, looking pleased with herself. "I'm glad you like it," she said.

Karina's gaze dropped back down to the drawing, her heart swelling with emotion. This was more than just a gift - it was a connection, a bond between her and Y/N.

As she looked at the drawing, Karina felt like she was seeing herself through Y/N's eyes. And what she saw was a person who was worthy of love and acceptance, quiet personality and all.

Karina's eyes met Y/N's, and she smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude and affection. "Thank you," she said, her voice sincere.

Y/N smiled back, looking happy and relieved. "You're welcome," she said.

As they sat there, the drawing between them, Karina felt like she was on the verge of something new, something special. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew that she wanted to explore it with Y/N by her side.

—

Karina's mind was racing as she walked home from school. She couldn't stop thinking about Y/N's beautiful drawing, and she felt a surge of gratitude towards the quiet artist.

As she entered her house, Karina was greeted by her assistant, who handed her a stack of fan mail and scheduling commitments. But Karina's attention was elsewhere. She walked over to her desk, where she kept her own art supplies, and began to rummage through them.

She pulled out a set of paints, a canvas, and a few brushes. As she started to work on a new piece, Karina felt a sense of calm wash over her. This was her way of relaxing, of expressing herself.

As she painted, Karina's thoughts turned to Y/N. She wanted to create something special for her, something that would show her how much she appreciated the drawing.

Hours passed, and Karina lost herself in her art. Finally, she stepped back to admire her work. It was a beautiful portrait of Y/N, captured in a moment of quiet contemplation.

Karina smiled, feeling proud of herself. This was the perfect gift for Y/N. She carefully wrapped the canvas in paper, eager to present it to Y/N the next day.

The next morning, Karina arrived at school early, her gift in hand. She spotted Y/N sitting on the rooftop, her sketchbook open on her lap. Karina's heart skipped a beat as she approached Y/N, her gift at the ready.

"Hey," Karina said, trying to sound casual.

Y/N looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Hey."

Karina smiled, holding out her gift. "I made something for you."

Y/N's eyes widened as she took in the wrapped canvas. "What is it?" she asked, her voice curious.

Karina grinned mischievously. "Open it and see."

Y/N's fingers trembled slightly as she unwrapped the paper. And when she saw the portrait, her eyes went wide with wonder.

"It's beautiful," Y/N breathed.

Karina beamed with pride. "I'm glad you like it."

Y/N's gaze met Karina's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. The air was charged with emotion, and Karina felt like she was drowning in Y/N's eyes.

As Karina and Y/N grew closer, Karina's fans began to take notice. At first, it was just a few curious glances, but soon, Y/N found herself surrounded by paparazzi and screaming fans.

Y/N was overwhelmed. She had always valued her anonymity, and the sudden attention was suffocating her. She tried to avoid Karina at school, but it was impossible.

Karina noticed Y/N's withdrawal and felt a pang of guilt. She knew that her celebrity status was the reason for Y/N's distress, and she didn't know how to fix it.

One day, as they sat together on the rooftop, Karina turned to Y/N with a concerned expression. "Hey, is everything okay? You've been avoiding me lately."

Y/N sighed, looking down at her feet. "It's just...I don't like all the attention. I like being invisible."

Karina nodded understandingly. "I get it. But I don't want to lose you because of my fans. Can't we find a way to make this work?"

Y/N looked up, her eyes searching Karina's face. "I don't know...I just feel like I'm losing myself in all of this."

Karina's heart went out to Y/N. She knew that she had to find a way to protect Y/N's anonymity, or risk losing her altogether.

As Y/N walked down the empty hallway, she couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. She had been trying to avoid Karina's fans all day, but it seemed like they were everywhere.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. She turned around, and her heart sank as she saw the mean popular girl, Victoria, and her minions approaching her.

Victoria's eyes narrowed as she looked at Y/N. "So, you're the one who's been getting all the attention from Karina," she sneered.

Y/N tried to stand her ground, but she could feel her legs trembling. "What do you want, Victoria?" she asked, trying to sound brave.

Victoria sneered. "I want you to stay away from Karina. She's way out of your league."

Y/N felt a surge of anger, but before she could respond, Victoria's minions closed in on her. They pushed her against the wall, and Y/N felt a wave of fear wash over her.

Victoria's eyes gleamed with malice as she leaned in close to Y/N. "You're just a nobody," she hissed. "And nobody gets to steal Karina's attention from me."

Y/N tried to defend herself, but Victoria's minions were too strong. They pushed her to the ground, and Y/N felt a wave of hopelessness wash over her.

As she lay there, helpless and alone, Y/N couldn't help but think that she was right back where she started. The trauma of her past was repeating itself, and she felt like she was all alone in the world.

—

As Karina walked into the infirmary, her eyes scanned the room until they landed on Y/N. She was sitting on a bed, her eyes fixed on the floor, and her face pale. Karina's heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of Y/N's bruises.

She rushed over to Y/N's bedside, her concern and worry evident on her face. "I heard what happened to you, and I'm truly sorry about that," Karina said, her voice filled with empathy.

As she sat down on the edge of the bed, Karina reached out to take Y/N's hand, but Y/N just gave her a cold gaze. Her normal expression and personality seemed to be back in place, and Karina felt a pang of heartbreak.

Karina looked at Y/N, trying to understand why she was pushing her away. "Y/N, I...I just wanted to make sure you're okay," Karina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Y/N just kept staring at her, her eyes empty of emotion. Karina felt a lump form in her throat as she realized that Y/N didn't want to see her.

"I'll leave," Karina said, trying to sound calm. "It seems like you don't want to see me right now."

As Karina stood up to leave, Y/N's gaze never wavered. Karina felt a stinging sensation in her eyes as she turned and walked away, feeling heartbroken and hurt.

It was all her fault, Karina thought, as she walked out of the infirmary. Y/N had told her that she wanted to remain anonymous, but Karina's celebrity status had blown her cover.

Karina's feelings of guilt and regret quickly turned to anger as she realized who was responsible for Y/N's pain. Victoria. That mean, popular girl who thought she could bully Y/N just because she was getting attention from Karina.

Karina's eyes narrowed as she made a mental note to confront Victoria. She was going to make sure that Victoria paid for what she had done to Y/N.

Karina stormed out of the infirmary, determined to find Victoria and give her a piece of her mind. She marched through the hallways, her eyes scanning the crowds of students until she finally spotted Victoria and her minions hanging out by the lockers.

Karina's anger boiled over as she approached Victoria. "You're the one who hurt Y/N, aren't you?" Karina accused, her voice loud and clear.

Victoria looked up, a sneer on her face. "What's it to you, Karina?" she asked, her voice dripping with malice.

Karina's eyes flashed with anger. "You're going to regret what you did to Y/N," she said, her voice low and menacing.

Victoria just laughed, but Karina could see the faintest glimmer of fear in her eyes. Karina smiled, satisfied. She was going to make sure that Victoria paid for what she had done.

Karina's eyes narrowed as she confronted Victoria. "You're going to apologize to Y/N," she said, her voice firm and commanding.

Victoria sneered, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Why should I?" she asked, her voice dripping with malice.

Karina's face darkened. "Because you bullied her, and now you're going to make amends."

Victoria's ego wouldn't budge. "I'm not apologizing to anyone," she said, her voice rising.

Karina's anger boiled over. She took a step closer to Victoria, her eyes blazing. "You're going to regret saying that," she said, her voice low and menacing.

And with that, Karina began to bully Victoria. She mocked her, belittled her, and made her feel small and insignificant. Victoria tried to fight back, but Karina was relentless.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Victoria broke down. She collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

Karina's expression softened slightly. "Apologize to Y/N," she said, her voice firm but not unkind.

Victoria scrambled to her feet, her eyes red and puffy. She stumbled over to Y/N, who was watching the scene with a mixture of confusion and concern.

"I'm sorry," Victoria sobbed, throwing herself at Y/N's feet. "I was wrong to bully you. Please forgive me."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What happened to you?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Victoria just sobbed, unable to speak.

Y/N's gaze turned to Karina, who was watching the scene with a mixture of satisfaction and guilt. "Karina, what did you do?" Y/N asked, her voice firm but curious.

Karina's expression was enigmatic. "I just made sure Victoria understood the importance of apologizing," she said, her voice neutral.

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "There's more to it than that," she said, her voice firm. "Tell me what really happened."

Karina sighed, knowing she couldn't keep the truth from Y/N. "I may have bullied Victoria a bit," she admitted, her voice sheepish.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "You bullied her?" she repeated, her voice incredulous.

Karina nodded, looking guilty. "I just wanted to make sure she apologized to you," she said, her voice defensive.

Y/N's expression was thoughtful. "I appreciate what you did, Karina," she said, her voice sincere. "But next time, can you just talk to me about it instead of taking matters into your own hands?"

Karina smiled, feeling relieved. "I promise," she said, her voice filled with conviction.

And with that, the two girls shared a warm smile, their bond stronger than ever.

—

Rachel had always been Karina's closest confidante, but lately, she'd noticed a change in Karina's behavior. Karina seemed distant, preoccupied, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with Y/N.

As she watched Karina and Y/N interact, Rachel's suspicions grew. She saw the way Karina looked at Y/N, the way she smiled at her, and the way she seemed to light up in her presence.

Rachel's instincts told her that Karina had developed feelings for Y/N, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. On one hand, she was happy to see Karina happy, but on the other hand, she was worried about the potential consequences.

What if Y/N didn't feel the same way? What if their relationship became public and damaged Karina's reputation?

Rachel decided to meddle, to try and protect Karina from potentially getting hurt. She started by casually mentioning Y/N's name in conversation, trying to gauge Karina's reaction.

"Hey, Karina, how's Y/N doing?" Rachel asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Karina's eyes flickered, and she seemed to pause for a moment before responding. "She's doing okay, I guess," Karina said, her voice neutral.

Rachel's eyes narrowed. She knew Karina well enough to recognize the signs of evasion. "What's going on between you two?" Rachel asked, her voice probing.

Karina's expression turned guarded. "Nothing's going on, Rach. We're just friends."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. She didn't believe Karina for a second. "Save it, Karina," Rachel said, her voice dry. "I know you too well."

Karina's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Rachel, drop it, okay?"

But Rachel just smiled sweetly. "I'm just looking out for you, Karina. You know that."

Karina's expression turned skeptical, and Rachel knew she'd planted a seed of doubt in Karina's mind. But as she watched Karina walk away, Rachel couldn't help but wonder if she'd just made things worse.

Rachel was determined to prove that Y/N was using Karina for her fame. She started by snooping around Y/N's social media accounts, looking for any clues that might suggest Y/N was taking advantage of Karina's celebrity status.

As she scrolled through Y/N's posts, Rachel's eyes narrowed. She noticed that Y/N had been posting more frequently since she'd started hanging out with Karina, and that many of her posts seemed to be subtly referencing Karina's favorite music or movies.

Rachel's suspicions were aroused. She decided to do some more digging, and started by asking around to see if anyone else had noticed anything suspicious about Y/N's behavior.

She approached some of Karina's other friends, trying to casually bring up the topic of Y/N. But no matter how hard she tried, Rachel couldn't seem to get anyone to agree with her. They all seemed to think that Y/N was a great person, and that she and Karina made a wonderful couple.

Rachel was frustrated. She knew that she was right, and that Y/N was just using Karina for her fame. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to prove it.

Just as Rachel was about to give up, she stumbled upon a cryptic message on Y/N's social media account. It was a post that seemed to be referencing Karina's latest basketball match, and Rachel's eyes narrowed as she read the words.

"Seems like someone is trying to ride the coattails of fame," Rachel muttered to herself, her mind racing with possibilities.

Meanwhile, Karina had been oblivious to Rachel's meddling. But when she stumbled upon Rachel snooping through Y/N's social media accounts, she was furious.

"Rachel, what are you doing?" Karina demanded, her voice low and angry.

Rachel looked up, startled. "I'm just trying to protect you, Karina," she said, her voice defensive.

"Protect me from what?" Karina asked, her eyes flashing with anger.

Rachel hesitated. "From Y/N. I think she's using you for your fame."

Karina's face darkened. "That's not true," she said, her voice firm. "Y/N is my friend, and I trust her."

The two friends argued back and forth, their voices growing louder and more heated. They stood in the hallway, attracting the attention of passing students.

"You're just blinded by your feelings for her," Rachel accused, her voice venomous.

"I'm not blinded," Karina shot back. "I know exactly what I'm doing. And I know that Y/N would never use me for my fame."

Rachel scoffed. "You're so naive, Karina. You think everyone is as nice and genuine as you are."

Karina's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not naive," she said, her voice cold. "I just choose to see the best in people."

The argument continued, with neither side willing to back down. Finally, Karina stormed off, leaving Rachel looking upset and worried.

Y/N, who was sitting in the library studying, couldn't help but notice the tension between Karina and Rachel. She wondered what was going on, and felt a pang of concern.

Is everything okay between Karina and Rachel? Y/N wondered.

As she watched, Rachel got up and walked out of the hallway, looking upset. Y/N's curiosity was piqued. She decided to go and talk to Karina, to see if everything was okay.

Y/N got up and walked out of the library, looking for Karina. She finally found her sitting in the courtyard, looking upset.

"Hey," Y/N said, sitting down beside Karina. "What's going on?"

Karina looked up, her eyes flashing with anger. "It's just Rachel," she said, her voice cold. "She's being ridiculous."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "What's going on with Rachel?" she asked, her voice concerned.

Karina sighed. "She thinks you're using me for my fame," she said, her voice bitter.

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? That's not true," she said, her voice firm.

Karina smiled, her eyes softening. "I know it's not true," she said, her voice gentle. "I trust you, Y/N."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Karina's words. She felt a rush of emotion, and suddenly realized that she had developed strong feelings for Karina.

—

As Y/N stepped into the school, she was immediately bombarded by whispers and giggles. She tried to ignore it, thinking it was just the usual morning chatter, but as she walked down the hallway, she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

She noticed students glancing at her, smiling and nodding in her direction. Y/N's confusion deepened. What was going on?

Finally, she mustered up the courage to approach a student who was standing by her locker. "Hey, can I ask you something?" Y/N said, trying to sound casual.

The student turned to her, a bright smile on her face. "Of course, Y/N! Congratulations, by the way."

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Congratulations for what?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

The student's smile grew wider. "For you and Karina, of course! I'm so happy for you both. You make a great couple."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. Couple? What was she talking about?

And then it hit her. The rumors. The whispers. The giggles. It all made sense now.

Y/N felt a wave of panic wash over her. She didn't want to be involved in any dating rumors. She didn't want to be the subject of gossip and speculation.

She quickly excused herself and made her way to Karina's locker. Karina was standing there, chatting with her friends, but when she saw Y/N approaching, she smiled and walked over to her.

"Hey, what's up?" Karina asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Y/N took a deep breath. "Karina, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, trying to sound calm.

Karina nodded, and Y/N pulled her aside. "I need to ask you something," Y/N said, her voice low. "Can you please shut down the rumors about us?"

Karina's expression turned confused. "What rumors?" she asked, her voice innocent.

Y/N sighed. "The rumors about us dating. I don't want to be involved in any of that."

Karina's face fell, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. But then Karina nodded, a small smile on her face.

"Of course, Y/N. I'll take care of it."

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. But as she turned to walk away, Karina called out to her.

"Y/N, wait."

Y/N turned back to Karina, who was looking at her with a concerned expression.

"Is everything okay?" Karina asked, her voice soft. "You seem a little distant."

Y/N hesitated. She didn't want to hurt Karina's feelings, but she needed some space to think about her own feelings.

"I'm fine, Karina," Y/N said, trying to sound casual. "I just need some time to myself, okay?"

Karina nodded, looking a little sad. "Okay, Y/N. If you need me, I'll be here."

As Y/N walked away, she could feel Karina's eyes on her. She knew Karina was sad, but she needed this time to herself.

Over the next few days, Y/N kept her distance from Karina. She stopped sitting with her at lunch, and she avoided her in the hallways.

Karina noticed, and she was sad about it. She missed Y/N's bright smile and her infectious laugh.

But Karina respected Y/N's boundaries. She gave her the space she needed, hoping that eventually, Y/N would come back to her.

As the days turned into weeks, Karina couldn't help but wonder what was going on in Y/N's mind. Was she okay? Was she still thinking about their conversation?

Karina's heart ached with longing. She missed Y/N, and she couldn't wait to see her again.

But for now, she would wait. She would give Y/N the space she needed, and hope that eventually, they could go back to the way things were before.

—

Karina and Y/N were both surprised when their teacher, Mrs. Johnson, assigned them to work together on a project. They had been avoiding each other for weeks, and the thought of spending time together again was daunting.

But Mrs. Johnson was insistent. "I think you two will make a great team," she said, smiling at them. "You both have unique skills and perspectives that will complement each other well."

Karina and Y/N exchanged a skeptical glance, but they knew they had no choice. They reluctantly agreed to work together, and Mrs. Johnson handed them a folder with the project details.

As they left the classroom, Karina turned to Y/N and asked, "So, where do you want to start?"

Y/N shrugged. "I don't know. What did Mrs. Johnson say the project was about again?"

Karina pulled out the folder and flipped through the pages. "It's a multimedia presentation about the impact of social media on society," she said, scanning the assignment sheet.

Y/N's eyes widened. "That sounds like a lot of work."

Karina nodded. "I know. But we can do it. We just need to divide up the tasks and work together."

Y/N hesitated, clearly unsure about working with Karina again. But Karina could see the faintest glimmer of interest in her eyes, and she knew that Y/N was intrigued by the project.

"Come on," Karina said, smiling at Y/N. "It'll be fun. We can work at my house, and I'll order some pizza."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly tempted by the offer. "Okay, fine," she said finally. "But just for the project."

Karina grinned, feeling a surge of excitement. "I'll pick you up at 3 pm tomorrow."

As they parted ways, Karina couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this project would be the start of something new between her and Y/N.

The next day, Karina pulled up to Y/N's house in her sleek black car. Y/N was waiting outside, looking adorable in a pair of ripped jeans and a faded t-shirt.

"Hey," Y/N said, sliding into the passenger seat.

Karina smiled, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Hey."

As they drove to Karina's house, the tension between them was palpable. But Karina was determined to keep things light and friendly, at least for now.

When they arrived at Karina's house, they settled in at the kitchen table, surrounded by laptops, notebooks, and snacks. Karina ordered some pizza, and they spent the next few hours brainstorming ideas and working on their presentation.

As the sun began to set, Karina realized that she was having more fun than she'd had in weeks. Y/N was laughing and joking with her, and for a moment, it felt like old times.

But as the night wore on, Karina couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N was still holding back. She seemed hesitant to meet Karina's eye, and her smiles were fleeting.

Karina wondered what was going on in Y/N's mind. Was she still unsure about her feelings? Was she afraid of getting hurt again?

As they packed up their things and prepared to part ways, Karina felt a pang of disappointment. She didn't want the night to end, didn't want to lose the connection they'd reestablished.

"Thanks for tonight," Y/N said, smiling at Karina.

Karina smiled back, feeling a sense of hope. "No problem. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 3 pm again."

Y/N nodded, and Karina walked her to the door. As they said their goodbyes, Karina felt a spark of electricity as their hands touched.

It was a small moment, but it gave Karina the courage to keep trying. She knew that she still had a long way to go to win Y/N back, but she was willing to do whatever it took.

As she watched Y/N walk away, Karina felt a sense of determination. She was going to make this project count, and she was going to win Y/N's heart back, no matter what it took.

As they finished their project, Karina and Y/N felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. They had worked tirelessly to create a stunning multimedia presentation, and it had paid off.

"I'm so glad we got to work together on this," Y/N said, smiling at Karina.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she met Y/N's gaze. She had been wanting to tell Y/N how she felt for weeks, but she had been too afraid.

"I'm glad too," Karina said, trying to sound casual. "We make a great team."

Y/N nodded, and they both sat back to admire their handiwork. The presentation was impressive, with sleek graphics and smooth transitions.

As they sat there, Karina couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N. She was beautiful, with her long hair and bright smile. And she was smart and talented, too.

Karina felt her heart fluttering in her chest. She knew she had to tell Y/N how she felt, but she was scared. What if Y/N didn't feel the same way?

As they packed up their things and prepared to leave, Karina realized that she couldn't let the moment slip away. She had to tell Y/N how she felt, no matter how scared she was.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Karina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N looked at her curiously, but she nodded. "Of course, Karina. What's up?"

Karina took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she knew she had to be brave.

"Y/N, from the moment I met you, I knew that you were someone special," Karina said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I was drawn to your kindness, your intelligence, and your beauty. And as we worked together on this project, I realized that my feelings for you went far beyond friendship."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at Karina with a mixture of shock and curiosity.

"I know that I may have scared you off before," Karina continued, her voice filled with regret. "But I want you to know that my feelings for you are real. And I was wondering if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way."

The room was silent, the only sound the quiet hum of the computers. Y/N's eyes were fixed on Karina's, and for a moment, Karina thought she saw a glimmer of reciprocation.

But then Y/N looked away, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Karina, I...I don't know what to say," she stammered.

Karina's heart sank, but she refused to give up. She took a step closer to Y/N, her eyes locked on hers.

"You don't have to say anything, Y/N," Karina said, her voice soft. "Just know that my feelings for you are real. And I'll be here, waiting for you, whenever you're ready."

Y/N looked up at Karina, her eyes searching hers. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable.

Then Y/N looked away, her face still flushed with embarrassment. "I need some time to think, Karina," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina nodded, feeling a sense of disappointment. But she also felt a sense of hope. Y/N hadn't rejected her outright, and that was all that mattered.

"I understand, Y/N," Karina said, her voice soft. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting for you."

As they parted ways, Karina couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. Would Y/N ever feel the same way? Or would Karina be left waiting forever?

But one thing was for sure: Karina had confessed her feelings, and now all she could do was wait and see how Y/N would respond.

—

Y/N's eyes searched Karina's face, looking for any sign of insincerity. She had been hurt before, and she wasn't about to let her guard down again without being sure.

"Karina, I need to ask you something," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina's eyes locked onto hers, filled with a deep sincerity. "Anything, Y/N. What is it?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Is this...is this just a publicity stunt? Are you just doing this to get attention or boost your image?"

Karina's face fell, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. But then Karina's expression softened, and she reached out to take Y/N's hand.

"Y/N, I promise you, this has nothing to do with publicity or image," Karina said, her voice filled with conviction. "My feelings for you are real. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I wouldn't dare cheapen them by using them for publicity."

Y/N's eyes searched Karina's face, looking for any sign of deception. But all she saw was sincerity and honesty.

"Okay," Y/N said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I believe you."

Karina's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she leaned in close to Y/N. "Thank you, Y/N," she whispered, her breath tickling Y/N's ear. "Thank you for believing me."

As they stood there, Y/N felt a spark of electricity run through her body. She knew that she was taking a risk, but she couldn't help the way she felt.

Karina's eyes locked onto hers, filled with a deep longing. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Karina leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Y/N's in a soft, tender kiss.

The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the magic of their first kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and possibilities, of hopes and dreams.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that she had made the right decision. She had taken a chance on Karina, and it had paid off in the most wonderful way.

Their kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and intense. Y/N felt like she was melting into Karina's arms, becoming one with her.

As they finally pulled away from each other, gasping for air, Y/N smiled up at Karina. "I'm so glad I took a chance on you," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Karina's eyes sparkled with happiness, and she leaned in to kiss Y/N again. "I'm glad too," she whispered, her lips brushing against Y/N's. "I'm glad too."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of their love story. And she couldn't wait to see what the future held for them.

—

Y/N was determined to teach Karina how to bake cookies. She had been baking for years, and she loved the way the sweet aroma filled the kitchen.

Karina, on the other hand, was a disaster waiting to happen. She was clumsy and accident-prone, and Y/N had visions of flour covering every inch of the kitchen.

But Y/N was determined to make it work. She gathered all the ingredients and equipment, and stood patiently as Karina measured out the flour.

As soon as Karina started mixing the dough, Y/N knew they were in trouble. Karina was using a stand mixer, but she had no idea how to control it. The mixer started to spin out of control, covering Karina in a cloud of flour.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "Karina, stop! You're going to cover the entire kitchen in flour!" she exclaimed.

Karina looked up, her face covered in a fine layer of powder. "I'm sorry! I don't know what's happening!" she cried, laughing.

Y/N rushed over to help Karina, and together they managed to wrestle the mixer to the ground. The kitchen was a disaster, but they had managed to salvage the dough.

As they slid the cookies into the oven, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Despite the chaos, they had managed to make something beautiful.

Twenty minutes later, the cookies were done. Y/N and Karina pulled them out of the oven, and the aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air.

They sat down at the kitchen table, surrounded by the chaos of their baking disaster. But as they took their first bites of the cookies, all was forgiven.

The cookies were perfect - chewy on the inside and crispy on the outside. Y/N and Karina sat there, munching on cookies and laughing together.

As they ate, they started to get sleepy. The warmth of the kitchen, combined with the comfort of each other's company, was too much to resist.

Before long, they were both leaning on each other, their heads nodding forward. The cookies were forgotten, left to cool on the kitchen counter.

As they drifted off to sleep, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her. She was exactly where she was meant to be - surrounded by the chaos of the kitchen, and the love of her life.

The next thing Y/N knew, she was waking up to the sound of Karina's gentle snores. They were still sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by the remnants of their baking disaster.

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of happiness wash over her. She leaned over and gently kissed Karina's forehead, trying not to wake her.

As she pulled back, Karina's eyes flickered open. She looked up at Y/N, a sleepy smile on her face.

"Hey," Karina whispered, her voice husky with sleep.

Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart skip a beat. "Hey," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. The kitchen was still a mess, but they didn't care. They were happy, and that's all that mattered.

[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.

[sincerelyzee]

established relationship | sylus x (assumed)fem!reader | phone sex | mutual masturbating | porn with some plot |

your boyfriend being the leader of onychinus was hard enough as is, only able to meet in the night. but, it was worse when you’d go weeks without seeing each other due to full schedules or trips.

sylus said he’d be able to see you around the end of this week - something he told you last week as well. now, you’re sat on your bed, phone pressed to your ear but it does nothing to conceal your frown from him.

“i know, sweetie. i thought i’d be back yesterday.. this trip is taking longer than expected.” he sighs into the microphone, the exhaustion laced deeply in his voice but he insists on calling you the nights he can’t come see you.

your end of the line stays quiet. truly, you have nothing to say about the matter; all you could do is cry but your tears would be useless since they won’t make him appear before you. so, you sit quietly in your disappointment with your phone pressed to your ear.

“sweetheart, let me see you.” his voice comes out soft, like a plea. like, seeing your sad face illuminated against his phone screen will ease the dull, ache deep in his heart. you comply, also hoping that seeing him will make it feel better.

“there you are kitten.” a small smile creeps onto your lips, your thighs press together and your head turns away from the screen so he can’t see the effect he has on you. “hi sylus.” you keep your words short and tone sharp, leaving no room for him to worm his way in and melt your front. you are happy to see him, in all his exhaustion. he looks unreasonably handsome this way, in your opinion.

“you look nice. i’m sure you’re having a blast wherever you are.” despite your harsh accusation, the compliment draws a light chuckle from sylus. a handful of butterflies wake in your tummy and flutter around at the sound. “im miserable here, so far from you. you must miss me more than i expected if these are your words, hmm?” all you do is look into the camera and nod your head pitifully, hoping for the best.

he coos at the sight, a little too consiscending for you liking. “sylus, why can’t you quickly leave and see me then go back? even an hour will be okay.” you try pleading, the whine in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by your man and he makes sure you know he heard it by chuckling.

“you know that’s impossible sweetie. we use have to be patient, then we’ll be together again and i’ll give you just what you’re asking for.” you blink at the screen then put on your best i-have-no-idea-what-you’re-talking-about face. “i haven’t asked for anything but to see you the time you said you’d be back.” he nods and hums at your words, as if hes agreeing with what you’re saying, “that, and something else you aren’t saying explicitly. maybe, it has something to do with the calendar.”

you know exactly which calendar he’s referring to but you still turn your head to look the giant yearly calendar up on your wall then back at him. “the calendar?”

there’s something so endearing and unexplainably sexy about your attempts at being clueless to sylus. this week you’re ovulating, you know it and sylus knows it too. it pains sylus in a way he cannot express that he can’t be there for you, in the way the natural instincts in your body need him to be.

“isn’t it hot there in linkon? i suggest you get comfortable, sweetie. no need to be so clothed in my presence.” continuing your little game of feigned innocence, you nod at sylus’ suggestion and undress out your pyjamas. using your pillows as a pillar for your phone to rest against so sylus can see all of you.

a wicked grin sits on his lips as he takes in all of you, he pull his robe open at the sight of you then frees himself from the constraints of his boxers the he lowers the camera so you can see his growing cock. your clit swells ever so slightly and twitches at the sight. “come closer, sweetheart. i need to see you better.”

you move your hips closer to the screen, parting your thighs more for his viewing pleasure. a low groan rumbles from his throat, his hand slowly moves up and down at the sight. “won’t you touch yourself for me?” as if you’re his robot, your fingers find your clit and your two middle fingers press against it and move it around in small circles; a soft sigh escapes at the feeling.

sylus’ deep crimson eyes would burn through the screen if they could with the sheer intensity he’s watching your fingers move on your sensitive bud. “put them in, kitten.. i know you can.” his words fall out his lips before he can think about them and carefully choose them. your walls clench around nothing at his sudden command, but you obey and slide your fingers into your slippery hole one at a time then you curl them up the way sylus usual does and you press against the soft spot embedded in your walls, earning a slight quiver in your thighs before you start to slowly pump your fingers in and out.

sylus brings his phone closer to his face, so he has a better view, in turn his hand starts to move faster. sylus can’t find anything to say other than encouragement to validate you into continuing. soon the call is only sylus’, “that’s it kitten..”, “you’re doing such a good job.”, “you sound so beautiful.”, “i can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“‘m gonna cum sy..” your voice comes out barely above a whisper but your microphone luckily catches it, and so do sylus’ ears, in response he groans lowly and asks— no demands that you cum for him. happily, you oblige. your fingers work at all your sensitive spots to pull the orgasm out of you in a way that fails to replicate the way it feels when sylus does it.

your back lifts off the bed a little as your body shudders and quivers through your orgasm. your boyfriend watches with his jaw dropped and a groan of your name is all the warning he gets before hot cum spurts out his tip and lands on his stomach and rib cage.

your fingers slowly leave your creamy hole and you slowly lower your legs, your eyes closed and sylus’ hand let’s go and his head falls back as he attempts to catch his breath. “i’ll come see you as soon as possible, sweetheart. i’ll make sure of it.”

———

happy new year!! let’s have a good 2025 guys! one of my resolutions is to write more, let’s hope it comes to be!!!! woo! yay!

this fic is inspired by the tweet above, the idea got me out my writing slump let’s all clap our hands and jump for joy!!

(i forgot how to write smut 😝👍)

[cosmicalily]

"baby, you can have it" - a jeongin oneshot by @cosmicalily

"an inch away from more than just friends, touch me, baby, put your lips on mine." - 'naked in manhattan' by chappell roan

author's note: another situation where i normally gatekeep the fuck out of my queer anthems (in the context of writing non-wlw fics for them), but the whole 'an inch away from more than just friends' felt SO relevant in the context of this oneshot. go stream 'the rise and fall of a midwest princess'. go listen to 'casual' and cry. it's good for you!

warnings: nudity, suggestive (the most that occurs is a makeout, nothing more)

You hadn't been able to stop yourself.

Why couldn't you have just remained a normal friend, his best friend?

Why were you spending hours, analysing the simplest things that he did, things that made your heart flutter, scream, and slingshot all the way to the moon and back? Spin around Saturn, melt through the heat of the sun and settle back in your chest, a mess of thoughts and emotions, innocent and otherwise.

The way he ate the strawberry liquorice he loved so much; his pink tongue pointed and sticking out occasionally to brush his lower lip as he savoured the candy.

The way he'd drag you home with him almost each night after school, hand you a cherry cola, and you'd spend hours playing video games and talking and laughing. Sometimes, Jisung would join you, but those evenings you got Jeongin all to yourself were something you treasured. And sometimes, those nights would end with more than just you kissing him on the cheek goodbye. Some mornings, you’d wake up, sprawled across his chest, the ghost of his lips on your neck, and the aching feeling of missing something. The feeling that even if he held your hand all the way to school, where you’d enter class together and apologise in unison for being late, he could slip away oh so easily.

The way he had made a habit of sketching little stars in a blue ballpoint pen around the few freckles that dotted your arm.

You looked down at your skin. There were still faded sketches dotting your arm, blue ink melting into your skin. Ghosts of the drawings he’d done yesterday; slowly disappearing but still very much so there.

Of course there were other girls. Girls who’d message him day after day, ask for his Snapchat, stick post-it notes onto his locker and cling to his arm in the hallway.

He tried not to pay too much attention to them; the occasional smile and ‘hey’, not to be rude, not to be unkind, but never responding to their affection, to their endless babble.

Jeongin was made to be a high school crush. He had bleached hair with the slightest hint of pink to it, sharp, fox-like features, contrasting wildly with his soft, dimpled cheeks, frequently flushed with a peach tinge.

You sometimes wondered why he gave you the time of day. Jeongin, although he wasn’t necessarily the most popular guy, was known across your grade and even the years above. He was older than almost everyone in the year level; an early birthday had originally granted him a move up to twelfth grade, but he’d opted against it. His friends were all in the year above, and whilst he still sometimes sat with them at break times, he’d decided to go for you.

“He hardly sits with us anymore,” Jisung mumbled to you, after Jeongin had passed out on the couch, head in your lap, arms around your waist. 

“I know. I keep asking him why. He says he sees you guys enough.”

Jisung looked down at Jeongin’s babyish expression as he slept, face pressed against your stomach. “Or he’s in love with you,” Jisung had reasoned, ruffling your hair and giving Jeongin’s arm a pinch before leaving.

You’d looked down at the pile of Jeongin lying before you; sleepy, clingy and oh so angelic. His features looked softer in the dim light, and his eyelashes fluttered every few seconds.

Every soft breath against your stomach made your heart swell, and you wished, just for a moment, that he’d say it out loud. Admit to it. 

There were times where you were almost certain. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent. Catching him staring at you from your vanity mirror as you did your eyeliner, his hands slipping around your waist as you sat on the bathroom counter bleaching his hair, the soft kisses to your cheek that he’d offer you when you were crying.

That wasn’t platonic, was it? It couldn’t be.

You looked down at your arms, admiring the faded stars again. There was one in particular, a little larger than the rest. It wasn’t really a star anymore. His hand must have slipped. You craned your neck a little closer, getting a better look at the smudge of blue ink.

A heart.

You breathed out a little, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered open.

You stroked his hair softly, hoping he’d fall back asleep, but he sat up, looking into your eyes. 

You felt so overwhelmed by him, but in the most beautiful way possible. By his sparkling eyes and his sweet face, the soft scent of his skin, and finally,

His lips on yours.

The way they moved in harmony, the way his tongue slipped in gently, not dominating your mouth, but exploring it. Curiously, like he wanted to get to know the parts of you that he hadn’t been able to. The parts that exceeded the confines of platonic love.

His hands were on your cheeks, your shoulders, your hips, your waist, gentle, fluid movements that sent shivers down your spine. There was a calm desperation about his actions, a need to search for more, to find another patch of skin he hadn’t seen or ran his fingers across yet. 

And when the two of you broke apart in a daze, chests heaving, sweat glossing over your skin, he hooked his fingers through the straps of your camisole, looking at you intently and giving you a moment to protest. When you nodded eagerly, he pulled off your tank top with one movement, one hand on the fabric, the other smoothing your hair to avoid it getting tangled. But once it was off, he didn’t grope or squeeze or touch.

Not that he would've without making sure you wanted it, even if he felt sure. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent wasn't one hundred, after all. He wanted you to be sure, because he was sure. And he was sure as hell that he didn't want to hurt you, not when he had you like this.

Not when you struggled to keep your lovedrunk eyes open, exhaustion creeping through your veins.

So he laid your body down to rest on the sofa, chest-down, and pulled a blue-ink ballpoint pen from his back pocket.

“That tickles,” you giggled, squirming a little as Jeongin settled himself behind you and began drawing on your bare skin.

“I wanna give you all the stars, baby,” he mumbled, sketching. His fingers were hot but the metal tip of the pen was cool on your back. The patterns he traced and the galaxies he formed were soothing and repetitive, and you felt yourself drifting off.

And when you woke up, he was beside you, limbs wrapped around yours, lips pressed against your neck.

A faded imprint of the ink stars on your arms stamped onto his skin.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx - comment, dm or send an ask to be added!

[levisjinchuriki]

midnight - satoru gojo

summary: gojo's new year's resolution is to tell you how he feels, but people keep stealing you away before he gets a chance

warning: fluff, friends to lovers trope, gojo pining after you, a bit of a power dynamic, small amount of angst, kissing

gojo stands near the edge of the room, one hand gripping a glass of something amber and strong, though it’s been forgotten. his other hand rests in pocket, fingers twitching with restless energy. he’s satoru gojo—jujutsu high’s golden boy, the strongest sorcerer, the life of the party…and yet, tonight, he’s anything but.

his sharp blue eyes, usually so carefree and confident, are laser-focused on you standing across the room, leaning into a conversation with a group of his friends. 

you’ve always had this intense power over him, even when you weren’t trying. it’s in the way you move— completely unaware of how effortlessly you draw people in. it’s in the way you smile, disarming and genuine, making everyone in your orbit feel like they’re the only person who matters.

but for gojo, it’s your eyes that get him the most. the way you look at him commands his full attention, every time. you see him, really see him, in a way no one else does. and it makes everything else fade away.

you’ve caught him staring more than once tonight. each time, he sees that same knowing look in your eye, your lips quirking into a subtle smile that feels like a challenge. like you’re daring him to do something about the way he looks at you.

his grip tightens around the glass. gojo takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, but it’s no use. he’s starting to lose his mind. 

you’ve been stolen away from him at least five times tonight. first, it was yuji, grinning ear to ear as he swept you into an animated conversation. then geto had pulled you aside, his smooth charm keeping your attention longer than gojo liked. now, you’re surrounded by a group of people whose names gojo didn’t even bother to catch, their laughter mingling with yours in a way that makes his stomach twist in jealousy.

it’s maddening.

every time he musters up the courage to approach you, someone else beats him to it, pulling you away just before he can do the one thing he’s been too terrified to risk for years. every missed opportunity gnaws at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth that even his drink can’t wash away.

because satoru gojo is in love with you.

he always has been. from the moment you first smiled at him with that effortless warmth, he was all in. but fear—sharp, unfamiliar, and relentless—has kept him silent. the thought of losing you, of ruining the bond you’ve shared for years, has held him back, no matter how much it’s tortured him to watch you be with other people.

it ached to see you cry on his shoulder over an ex who didn’t deserve you. it hurt even more to hear himself giving you advice he wished he could follow—advice he wished he could prove to you himself. but through it all, he stayed the supportive best friend, locking his feelings away and pretending that watching you love someone else didn’t shatter him every time.

but tonight, gojo feels different. maybe it’s the champagne fizzing in his veins, making everything feel a little lighter. maybe it’s the delusional bravery that comes with every new year, the promise of new beginnings and the freedom to act on desires that have been bubbling under the surface. or maybe it’s the way you keep looking at him like that—like you’re waiting. like you already know.

his chest tightens as he lifts the glass to his lips, downing the drink in one long, burning swallow. he grimaces, but the rush of liquid courage steadies him momentarily.

enough is enough.

glass abandoned on a nearby table, gojo straightens, his towering frame cutting through the crowd with ease as he makes his way toward you. his pulse is pounding, his nerves are screaming, but his eyes stay locked on you, unwilling to let anyone else take you away this time.

“can i steal her for a sec?” gojo interrupts smoothly as he approaches the group. his tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it—a subtle claim that leaves no room for argument. his towering frame and commanding presence seal the deal as his hand presses against your back, guiding you away without giving the others a chance to respond.

you let him lead you, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you glance up at him. he feels the warmth of your gaze, the way it lingers, and it does little to calm the pounding of his pulse. 

“finally decided to come out of your corner, gojo?” you tease, your voice low and laced with amusement.

“i wasn’t in a corner” he lies. your raised brow and knowing grin let him know you’re not buying it for a second.

“right. and i wasn’t waiting all night for you to talk to me” you counter smoothly, the challenge in your tone making his stomach flip. the glint in your eye—mischievous and just a little smug—nearly crumbles him. he stammers for a moment, trying to form a response, but nothing coherent comes out.

“you’ve been avoiding me” your voice drops in volume as you step closer. the intimacy of the gesture steals the air from his lungs.

“i haven’t—”

“you have” your voice is firm, but still laced with that teasing edge that drives him insane. “you’ve been staring at me all night like you want something, and yet, here i am, talking to everyone but you”.

gojo swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry. you’ve cornered him effortlessly, your words peeling away every excuse he might have used to deflect. the way your eyes hold his makes it impossible to look away.

you’ve been watching him just as closely as he’s been watching you, dissecting every glance, every subtle shift in his posture. you’ve caught him staring more times than you can count, and each time, the slight tilt of your head and that knowing look in your eye made it clear: you know.

you know exactly how much power you have over him.

and you’re enjoying it.

it’s infuriating, the way you have him so completely wrapped around your finger without even trying. but it’s also exhilarating. he’s satoru gojo—untouchable, powerful, confident. no one has ever left him flustered, never made him second-guess himself. but somehow, you’ve brought him to his knees without even trying.

“ten... nine...eight…” the crowd begins the countdown, but he barely hears it, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. now, as he stands before you, the room buzzing with energy and the countdown ticking dangerously close to zero, he knows he can’t wait any longer. the way you’re looking at him— like you’ve been waiting for him to finally catch up—sends a thrill racing through his veins. it’s the curve of your lips—that faint, maddeningly confident smile—that has him completely at your mercy.

there’s no time like the present. either he steps forward and starts the new year without regrets, or he lets the moment slip away and risks losing the person most special to him forever.

“three... two...”

he doesn’t wait for “one”. 

without another second of hesitation, gojo pulls you closer, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other cradling your face as though you’re something fragile and precious. his thumb brushes gently against your cheek as he leans in.

the kiss is everything he’s ever dreamed of and more—sweet, passionate, and filled with longing after years spent second-guessing and holding back. it’s not just a kiss; it’s an apology, a confession, a promise all wrapped into one moment.

your arms slide up instinctively, fingers threading into his undercut, pulling him impossibly closer. the gesture is possessive, grounding, and when you kiss him back with equal fervor, satoru knows he’s a goner.

you’re everything he’s ever wanted but was too scared to ruin. and now, with the taste of your lips on his, satoru is sure he’s addicted. he feels relieved, euphoric, and he wonders how he’s managed without this for so long.

when gojo finally pulls back, your foreheads rest against each other. you’re both breathless, chests rising and falling in unison. 

“took you long enough” you tease, your voice brimming with warmth. your thumb lightly grazes his bottom lip.

for all his usual confidence, there’s a vulnerability in the way he looks at you now. his normally playful eyes are earnest, his gaze searching yours as if afraid this moment might vanish, like a dream slipping through his fingers.

“yeah, well… i like to keep you on your toes” satoru quips with familiar cockiness.

the smirk on your lips a reminder of the truth: he’s in your hands. you’ve always been the one in control. but tonight, you let him have this moment, let him play at being the one holding the reins.

you hum, the sound low and pleased. the way you’re looking at him—with affection, amusement, and something he doesn’t dare name—has his heart racing. for a second, he wonders if his knees might give out entirely. 

“happy new year, gojo” you say. your fingers brush the nape of his neck.

“happy new year” he murmurs back, eyes fixed on yours as if he’s afraid to miss a single second of this.

then, before anyone can pull you away again, before the world outside this moment can intrude, he leans in, stealing another kiss. it’s slower this time, less hurried, but no less consuming. the intensity builds, unspoken feelings spilling over with every shared breath, every gentle press of his lips against yours.

it’s just him, you, and the undeniable connection you can no longer ignore.

when you finally part, both of you breathless, he lingers close, hand cradling your cheeks. there’s a softness in his gaze now, a vulnerability that’s rare for him, but is entirely genuine.

as the sound of cheers and laughter signals it’s time to celebrate with everyone, gojo laces his fingers with yours before leading you back toward the others. his grip is firm but gentle. he doesn’t let go, not even when you’re surrounded by the lively crowd.

instead, he gives your hand a squeeze, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. 

he’s determined—no one is going to steal you away again.

not tonight. not ever.

--

a/n: happy new year, everyone. this is my first fic of 2025!! one of my resolutions is to write more. please send some requests my way!! <3

creds: found on pinterest so i’m not sure who the creator is!

[dirtylittlecubbs]

❥ Pairing ➳ Boyfriend!Jisung x Afab!Reader

❥ Genre ➳ Smut

❥ Word Count ➳ 1K

❥ Warnings ➳ Top!Jisung, Bottom!Reader, P in v sex, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it up) porn without plot, 2min mention because it's me, proof read only once so if you see any mistakes -no you don't- I wrote something and finished it yay me

“F-fuc-hmmph” Your moans are cut short by Jisung covering your mouth with his hand. “Shh baby. I told you we need to be quiet.” he whispers, hot breath ghosting over your ear. You can only groan into his palm. Your own hands squeeze helplessly at his sides, nails digging into his golden skin. There will definitely be marks later. 

You're laying on top of Jisung, back pressed to his chest as he fucks into you. Your body is secured in place by his toned arm wrapped around your middle. Jisung had been frequenting the Gym with Chan & Changbin recently and it was obvious he was bulking up again, much to your absolute delight. His broadened shoulders and thick arms had arousal pooling in your stomach every time you laid eyes on him. It only adds to your desire to have your boyfriend manhandle you every which way. 

Your body bounces with every thrust of Jisung's hips, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside you with impressive, mind numbing accuracy. As much as you want to be quiet, knowing your roommate Seungmin wouldn’t appreciate having to listen to you fall apart on your boyfriend's cock, you can't help the whines and moans that fall from your lips as pleasure rushes through you in waves. It feels so good. 

“I-I know baby, I know,” Jisung shushes, all too receptive to your cries of ecstasy. “You like having my cock inside you, yeah?” Jisung prods, his words teasing but you're far too gone to care. You try to nod as best you can against his shoulder to answer. Jisung chuckles, continuing his onslaught of dirty whispers in that low, grainy tone of voice that makes you keen. 

“Fuck baby- You're so t-tight. Feel so good around me-hngh” Jisung himself isn't faring much better. The feeling of your warm pussy wrapped around his length, the deliciously wet slide of your walls around him has him inching closer to the edge already. “Missed fucking this tight hole of yours.” Jisung grunts, placing hot kisses along the side of your neck. “I missed my baby soo-ah! So fucking much. My pretty baby-fuck!” He rambles on. He grabs your chin and turns your head to the side so he can press your lips together. 

The kiss is wet, and messy and you try your best to reciprocate Jisung's intensity, his desperation to taste you but your mind is practically seeping out of your ears. All it knows is Jisung's name and the feeling of his dick inside you. You can feel your high drawing near, the pleasure circling through your body and collecting in your gut. You're so fucking close. 

Suddenly, Jisung stops moving, hips coming to a halt. You might actually start crying. You were so, so close. You're about to whine, call out his name, question why he stopped but before you can even make a sound, Jisung covers your mouth with his palm again and plants his feet onto the mattress for seemingly better leverage. He takes his hand that's wrapped around your middle and brings it down to your clit instead. 

Without warning, he starts fucking into you harder and faster, drawing figure eights on your clit so fast you go cross eyed. Your moans get louder, the sound barely muffled by Jisung's hand. You feel the tightening of your gut as your orgasm approaches but it gets to you way faster than you were expecting.

You practically scream into Jisung's palm, your body jerking violently in his hold as your orgasm rages through you. Jisung doesn't stop fucking up into you either, chasing his own high, causing you to whine from overstimulation. It only takes a few more thrusts and your walls tightening around his cock for him to also fall over the edge, hips stiffening as he cums inside you.

He bites onto your shoulder to try and stifle the moan erupting from his throat, it does very little to silence him. You cry out at the feeling, the slight pain sending blissful shocks of arousal straight to your pussy. It's been a while since either of you came that hard. 

Jisung's hand slips from over your mouth and your bodies flops onto the bed. You're still on top of him, his arms wrapped around you, holding you in place. The both of you lay there for a moment, panting softly. It takes a minute for you to find yourself but when you do you finally break the silence. “Do you think we were quiet enough?” you ask breathlessly. Jisung laughs, albeit weakly. “Probably not but I don't think it matters anymore.” He replies, running his hands along your torso absentmindedly. The touch is gentle, soothing. 

“Why is that?” you question, shifting to adjust yourself on top of Jisung. The movement causes Jisung's dick to slide out of you, eliciting a groan from the both of you. “Mmph-Listen,” Jisung mumbles, pointing to the wall behind your heads. You stretch your ears, trying your best to listen for whatever it is Jisung wants you to hear. After a brief moment you hear it, soft gasps and moans coming from beyond your bedroom wall. A laugh escapes you at the sounds, breathy and full of disbelief. 

“Seems Seungminnie had plans of his own tonight.” you giggle, making Jisung giggle in turn. “Who do you think he brought over?” Jisung asks but before you can provide your guess, a muffled ‘Fuck- Minho-Hyung!’ rings through the apartment, answering Jisung's question. You stare at each other for a second, eyes wide with surprise before bursting out laughing. “There's your answer.” you laugh, rolling off Jisung and onto the mattress. “I'll get us cleaned up.” Jisung chuckles, getting up and heading to the bathroom. You hum in response, resting your head on your hands and sinking further into the duvet while you wait for him to come back. 

【Tagging】 : @skzms @bbyquokka @hanjibug @moonjxsung @kaciidubs @brownsugarbaybee

© dirtylittlecubbs 2024 | Do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto other platforms without my permission

[strwbrychffoncake]

"and so i drank one ,it became four ,and when i fell on the floor i drank more,, 2.4k words synopsis: lads men taking care of you when you're drunk contains: lads (separate) x drunk!reader ,f!reader (use she/her pronouns around + femme petnames) ,fluff, some drunk comfort ,completely self-indulgent (based on me when i drink so keep in mind) ,reader is a lightweight (lol) ,some suggestive dialogue but nothing happens its mostly teasing ,that might be it note: unedited! wrote after drinking myself so beware of typos lolol, this was written in honor of the new yrs :x

-

zayne

(implied) established relationship, you're at his place, doctor zayne mode activates, reader is pretty clingy, zayne gets you water, you get carried, you sleep in his bed, he hides the alcohol from you (lol???)

"it looks like someone overindulged themselves tonight."

"huuuuuh?"

you tilt your head, innocent eyes finding zayne's hard gaze.

"whad'y mean?"

coming home to see various alcohol bottles sprawled out across the kitchen counter, and a couple of empty bottles of some sweet mixed drinks you had sitting in the fridge for who knows how long was not something he expected after another long shift at the hospital.

he only sighs in response to your question, walking towards you to check you over before you cling to him.

"zayyyyne, missed you soooo much," you mumble, arms encircling around one of his tugging him closer.

"you're drunk."

you burst into a fit of giggles before refuting.

"no im nottt."

"just how much did you drink this time?"

you think it over for a long moment before deciding on your answer.

"just a little," you emphasize by holding your index and thumb fingers up, a small distance in between them.

zayne leans towards you, hand rising to rest on your forehead.

"how do you feel?"

"my head feels like its going to fall off...." suddenly your expression morphs into one of worry, and your eyes water as you look up pleadingly at zayne.

"it won't fall off, will it doctor?? its so heavy, it feels like its going to fall off...."

"no, its not going to fall off," he reassures pointedly, drawing his hand back in favor of pinching the bridge of his nose.

"really????"

you look up at him, eyes wide and hopeful, and when he looks back down at you he can't help but to pat your head.

"really. now, let me examine you further."

you give a short nod, small giggles escaping your lips as he gives you a good once-over, dragging his index finger across your line of vision (noticing how you quickly lose focus and laugh instead) and taking note of your hazy, half-lidded eyes.

"my diagnosis is that you're drunk."

"i'm nooot," you whine.

"i'm going to get you some water, and then you'll get some rest."

you let out an involuntary yawn, proving his point before he stands up and turns towards the kitchen.

"i'll be right back," he says, but only manages a single step before you latch onto his hand with both of yours.

"don't leave," you whine, looking up at him again with those wide, tearful eyes.

seriously, how much did you drink????

"i'm only grabbing some water for you. i'll be back in a moment."

with that, he takes off, leaving you to giggle to yourself for a moment before calling out to him.

"zayne.... zayyyyne.... come baaaaack............ where did you gooooo?"

he's back in under a minute, and you're quick to cling to him once he's back in your sight.

"zaaaaaaayne!"

"let's get you to bed."

"carry me?" you ask, reaching your arms up as your lips curl up cutely.

he sighs before promptly reaching down for you.

"it seems this particular patient requires plenty of rest given the way she's acting."

with those words, he lifts you up with ease, carrying you bridal style towards your shared room, quickly noticing the way you almost seem to go limp in his arms by the time he gets to the bed.

you already managed to fall asleep?

after he tucks you in, he makes sure to hide every liquor bottle properly while making a mental note to tell him when you wanted to drink so that he could make sure to be with you when you did.

even if your drunk self was a handful, he thought you were still quite cute.

who knew you were such an easily amused drunk?

-

xavier

established relationship, out together before he takes you to his place, sleepy!reader (+ xav), he gives you water, affectionate!reader moment, he changes you (freak mode is not activated), cuddling

tonight, the hunter's association went out drinking to celebrate a particularly grueling mission that turned into a success.

while neither you or xavier drank much, you decided to indulge just a little given the nature of the mission.

though, despite xavier's warning for you to not overdo it, he watches as you down your second drink as he sips on his water, already preparing himself for the trouble you'll be causing later.

which leads to now, supporting you (almost like half-carrying you) as he unlocks and leads you through the entrance of his apartment.

"ah, im so.. sleepy...."

"yes, me too. the sooner we get you in, the sooner we can get to bed," he reassures.

you're led to his sofa, falling back into the cushions as he runs off to retrieve water from his fridge for you.

when he comes back, your eyes are closed.

he bends himself to your level, nudging your cheek with his finger.

"hey, don't fall asleep before drinking some water."

"head hurts.." you mumble.

"the water will help, come on."

he opens it for you, pushing it towards your lips.

they part, and he takes the opportunity to tilt the bottle slightly, hydrating you himself.

after ten seconds, he pulls it back, wiping a stray droplet from the corner of your lips before screwing the lid back on.

"why would you drink so much when you can't handle it at all?"

you chuckle at this, and he sighs.

"come on, let's get to bed, i'm tired too."

"sleepy time," you mumble as he grabs your hand and helps you to your feet, steadying you with both his hands.

"sleepy time indeed," he nods once, leading you to his bedroom.

right at the doorway, you suddenly wrap your arms around him, planting sleepy kisses across his cheek.

"oh?"

xavier is stunned for a moment but accepts the drunken affection, wry smile forming on his lips.

you pull away to look at him.

"you're so pretty," you sigh, gaze faraway yet almost enchanted by him.

he laughs at this.

"come on, lets get to bed already."

he helps you shed your outer clothes before ridding of his own, pulling one of his sweaters over your head as he pulls on sweatpants, tugging you to fall into the mattress with him.

he hugs you close, planting a kiss on your head, then your cheek, your nose, and then your lips as your breaths even out.

"sleep well, my lovely star."

-

rafayel

implied established relationship, whiny!reader, teasing!raf, he calls you "cutie," you're at his studio/home

truth be told, rafayel loved when you got like this.

since you didn't drink often, it was quite the treat for him to see you as clingy and needy as he felt for you on a daily basis.

"raaaaaaaaf," you whined.

"yes, cutie?"

you hugged him.

"'s so hot," you breathed out, slumping beside him.

he laughed.

"but i opened the window to let the sea breeze in awhile ago, isn't it working?"

you pout, shaking your head before quickly regretting it, laying it back down against his shoulder.

"not at all."

"you poor thing," he said half-teasing, reaching his free hand out to pat your head.

"raf."

"hm?"

"rafayel."

"yes?"

"ra-fa-yeeeeel."

he broke into a wide smile.

"need somethin', cutie?"

"jus' like your name," you mumbled.

"oh? really?"

"mhm."

"well, i like yours more."

"nope."

"mhm."

"no."

"do too."

suddenly, you reach for his hand.

you tug it towards you before beginning to trace his fingers.

"are you a fortune teller now or something?

he maneuvers his hand so that his fingers intertwine with yours.

"too bad, looks like you can't see it anymore."

you giggle at him.

"stay like this?" your words come out as a question.

"there's nothing i'd want more," he answers, heart full at the satisfied smile on your face before cuddling into him once more.

-

sylus

relationship can be seen as established or not tbh, he calls you "kitten" several times, incorrect use of evol? (but its to save reader from falling lol), you get carried, he comforts you

sylus walks into the kitchen as you step out, taking note of the various alcoholic beverage cans and bottles across the counter.

"having a party without me, kitten?"

you shake your head.

"no, no," you smile. "jus' needed t' grab som'ing" you manage to slur out, headed towards the stairs.

he watches you as you begin making your way up some stairs before you stumble.

before you can even register that you're falling, black and red tendrils wrap around your body, catching you with ease.

your airy laughs fill the room, uncaring of you almost falling down the stairs, the feeling of the tendrils circling your waist and thighs almost electrifying against your sensitive skin.

"s-s-sylus! aha! tickles, hahaha-!"

the man in question half grins at your reaction, none the wiser to the surge of panic you just caused him.

in no time at all, he's beside you, tendrils gently uncurling from you as he looks down at you.

"such a clumsy kitten," he shakes his head. "what will i do with you?"

you're still swaying slightly, blinking up at him, and he doesn't wait for an answer that you may or may not give before hauling you over his shoulder, causing a surprised sound and you erupting into another fit of giggles.

he holds you securely, making his way towards his room with you, the pleasant sound of your amused laughs his favorite melody.

he passes by luke and kieran, asking them to do away with the beverages that are still out on the counter.

"is she... alright?" luke asks out of concern.

"oh, she's just fine. it seems a little kitten can't hold her liquor very well," he shakes his head.

after they leave (you waving at them as they disappear into the distance) sylus feels you shiver against him.

"cold?"

"so cold..."

"don't worry, kitten," he begins, pushing the door to his room open. "you'll be warmed up in no time."

he wastes no time gently dropping you into bed, watching as you bounce slightly on the mattress, a pleased sound escaping you as you waste no time to get under the covers.

"are you alright?" he asks, head tilted and concern lacing his tone.

you nod before you frown.

"stomach hurts...."

"my poor kitten."

sylus quickly turns out the light, settling beside you as his large hand comes up to rub over your belly.

you curl into him, pleased grin stretching across your lips, and without realizing it, you've drifted off in sylus comfort and warmth.

he doesn't know how long he stays by your side, gaze fixed on your sleeping face as he continues soothing the spot of pain, but he knows that in this moment, there's nowhere he'd rather be.

-

caleb

implied established relationship, slight suggestive remarks, worried!caleb, caleb teasing you

when you stumble your way through the front entrance of your home, the first thing you're met with is caleb, hands crossed over his chest as he stares down at you, unamused.

before you can greet him, he speaks up.

"do you have any idea what time it is?"

your eyes slowly shift up to his, and you can't help but to burst into a fit of giggles.

"hiiii," you drag out once your laughing begins to subside.

caleb stares down at you for a moment, taking in your slightly disheveled state and your lack of comeback, hardened expression softening just slightly.

"are you.... drunk?"

you burst into giggles again as you deny his accusation.

"not at alllll," you deny, swaying side to side.

"ok, you're literally just lying."

you move to take another step but somehow stumble right into caleb, who quickly wraps his arms around you.

"what the hell did you drink, pipsqueak?"

"dunno..." you trail off, closing your eyes, feeling comforted by caleb's embrace.

"'m dizzy.. so sleepy...."

"ok, let me just get you to your room first, yeah?"

you nod, allowing yourself to be led by caleb to your bedroom.

you make it quickly, not without a few more stumbles, mostly leaning on caleb's large frame for support as you're led to sit down in your desk chair.

"ok, wait here, i'll be right back."

when he leaves your gaze lingers around your room, darting across the shelves and decorations as if its unfamiliar before you slump down in the chair.

you sway side to side for a bit before you allow yourself to slip down further, sinking down down down until you're splayed out on the soft carpet.

just as you make yourself comfortable, hurried footsteps get closer and enter through the doorway.

"ok, i'm back, i have-"

caleb pauses, staring down at you before his eyes crease in amusement.

"pipsqueak, what are you doing on the floor?"

"'s comfy," you answer, grabbing a nearby plushie (that caleb won for you) and hugging it to your chest. "wanna sleep here."

"well, you can't."

"why?"

"because your bed is right there."

"don' wanna get up..." you whine, eyes shut and curling up comfortably.

he sets down the water and medicine bottles he brought in on your bedside table before his attention is on you again.

"making me do the work like usual, huh?"

you don't have time to try and process the underlying meaning of his words before you feel yourself being lifted, erupting into laughs at the action before you're tossed onto your bed, bouncing against the mattress before you're settled, amusement still circulating the room.

"caleb!"

you're looking at him through your creased eyes, half closed as you slowly recover from your fit, watching as he shrugs, teasing smile playing at his lips.

"you said you couldn't get up, so i helped you."

when the giggles subside, you're both staring at each other for awhile before caleb breaks his gaze away.

"ok, you should really sleep now. do you need anything else before i go?"

"you?"

your answer comes out so simply, so honestly, that it catches him off guard, stuck in momentary shock when you speak up again.

"sleep with me," you pat the side of your bed.

he recovers from his shock at these words, smirk breaking out.

"oh? really, pipsqueak?"

"caleeeeb," you whine.

he puts his hands up in mock surrender.

"kidding, kidding," he closes the distance, standing right at the side of the bed.

"you sure you want me to sleep with you?"

"yes," you say, grabbing his hand.

"ok, ok, let me just get the light first."

he switches the light off, making his way back over before being tugged into bed by your eager pull.

even after he falls into the mattress with an oof, he quickly settles in before teasing you again.

"you sure you don't have any ulterior motives in pulling me into bed with you this time?"

when you don't pipe up again, he takes a look to see you having already dozed off.

he sighs, hand reaching up to cup and caress your cheek.

"sleep well, my pipsqueak. i'll be sure to punish you for worrying me so much tomorrow," he whispers his promise into the night, sealing with a kiss to the corner of your lips before slipping his eyes shut.

with you safe and secure in his arms, he could finally fall asleep peacefully tonight.

-

a/n: writing this after drinking hehe... i want to write more detailed (maybe full fics) of lads x drunk!reader but wrote these little imagines up for nowwww... i would like them all to dote on me but i think im quite funny in this state hehe -

[rainebelowzero]

Steve Harrington x Male Reader

not a request

notes: I think this is the first time I've written something where you're explicitly dating the person, yippee 🥳 also this is supposed to take place between S3 and S4, I think it's kinda vague but that's what I was thinking of when I was writing this

cws: blowjob (reader receiving), multiple orgasms, steve gets a facial, some sadness (a little, don't worry)

..Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen…This isn't helping. You think, staring up at your ceiling in the dark, trying to tire yourself out. It had been...exactly 4 days since you've slept a full 8 hours, and the people around you have been starting to notice.

After everything that's happened, it was hard for you to sleep, so you normally stayed in bed, unable to close your eyes. What made it worse was that you were home alone. Your parents respected you as a responsible adult, which was good but you really didn't want to be home alone.

You had considered calling your boyfriend or one of your friends, but it was late and you didn't want to wake them up. You felt guilty asking one of them to come over.

So you lay there. Dealing with it on your own. You'd fall asleep eventually. Hopefully.

That's until a faint sound comes from downstairs. You try to ignore it. Maybe it was from outside, it happens sometimes. Or maybe the house was settling. Or maybe-

The sound happens again. The creaking of the wooden floor downstairs. Your parents weren't supposed to be home until later the next day, so it couldn't be them.

You stayed still for a second, hoping, praying you weren't about to be taken by some kind of monster. You think about the others. You'd be gone without a trace. Alone. You refuse to go out that way.

You reach out into the darkness, knowing exactly where your bat is. You creep down the stairs, seeing the vague shape of a figure moving in the almost pitch black of your living room.

As you get down the stairs, you notice that it's pretty..human shaped?

You lean towards a lamp, yanking the chain to turn it on. You and the figure jump seeing each other, the man spinning around to face you. Your eyes need to adjust to the light, though it's faint, but you squint at the man.

“Steve?”

He grins sheepishly. “Hi.”

You let out a relieved sigh, dropping the bat down next to you. You didn't realize, but your hands are shaking, Steve drawing your attention to it as he notices and grabs your hands, squeezing them. His hands are warm, very warm, and he looks at you with guilty eyes and a frown.

“I'm sorry I scared you, I just..I couldn't sleep and I wasn't really thinking about how that would scare the shit out of you. I just needed to see your face.” He apologizes profusely.

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He returns the action immediately, and you take in his weirdly super soft sweater and his warm, inviting scent.

“It's okay. I couldn't sleep either.” You respond, your voice muffled as you stay close to him. You pull away a little bit, suddenly confused. “Wait, but, how'd you get in?”

You knew he had a thing for crawling in through windows, but none of yours were open.

“You gave me a key, remember?” He says, pulling out his bundle of a bunch of keys, jingling it a little bit.

You nod. You genuinely forgot you did that. Pulling fully away from him, you drop down onto the couch, sliding closer to him as he does the same.

“Is there a reason you couldn't sleep?” You ask. He shrugs, running a hand through his hair.

“I'm not sure. I've just been pretty restless, I guess.” He looks away from you, and in the dim, warm light of the still, silent living room, you can tell there's something he doesn't want to tell you. Maybe it's the same way you feel. Like you'll close your eyes and suddenly one of your friends will end up missing. Like you won't be there in time to help.

You slide a hand over his and give it a squeeze the way he did for you. He looks back to you, smiling softly. You glance over to your TV, before standing, stretching your arms a little bit. You grin at Steve.

“Let's watch a movie.” You say. You pick a random comedy to lighten the mood and slip it into the VCR, sitting back on the couch. The two of you stay snuggled together, enjoying each other's presence. The faint sound of rain against the ground comes from outside, and you feel way better than you did before with Steve there.

A little further into the movie, you feel the urge to be closer to him, so you hold him tighter, your arm around him and your other hand on his arm, gently running your fingers along it. You can feel the muscle underneath his sleeve, and you give his bicep a small squeeze.

He glances over at you and you laugh softly. He gives you a grin and goes back to watching the movie as you lay your head on his shoulder. Throughout the movie, your hand moves from his arm to his chest, running your hand along his body. He doesn't mind, just turning to press a kiss to your temple and letting you basically feel him up. You slip your hand under his sweater and the shirt underneath, and he jumps a little bit before laughing.

“Your hand is so cold. What are you doing?” He asks playfully.

You shrug, feigning innocence. “Nothing. I can't touch my boyfriend?”

He gives you a suspicious eyebrow raise and looks away, back to your TV.

You move your hand up a little bit underneath his sweater and shirt, and he shudders a little, but doesn't acknowledge it. You pull your hand back, and he sits forward, lifting the sweater over his head. His shirt rides up a little too, and you can see the start of his happy trail, eyeing his body as he tosses the sweater aside, then pulls his shirt off too and sits back down.

You go back to touching him, and he laughs a little bit as you give his chest a soft squeeze. He turns towards you, kissing your forehead. He raises a hand, gently cupping the back of your head as he presses kisses to your face.

You lean forward, kissing his shoulder. Sliding into his lap, you place your knees on either side of his legs, kissing up his chest and then to his neck. His hands go to your waist, holding you as you kiss up to his face, purposely kissing everywhere but his lips. He gives you a fake pout when you pull away.

“What?” You laugh, and he laughs with you, dropping the facial expression.

“You missed a spot.” He responds.

“Did I?” As you say that, he pulls you closer, capturing your lips in a needy kiss. You hold his face gently, Steve kissing you like it's the last thing he'll ever do, like he's dying of thirst and you're the only thing to relieve it.

Your other hand rests against his chest, and your fingers run over one of his nipples a few times, making him groan into your mouth. You knew how sensitive they usually were, and you keep flicking your fingers against his nipple as the bud starts to harden and perk up. You do the same for the other one, switching hands. You pull away for a second, taking a breath before going back to kissing him, rolling his nipple between two of your fingers.

His hips buck up a little bit, and you roll your hips against him to pull more desperate sounds out of him. He gently puts a hand over yours to stop you as he catches his breath.

“Can I suck you off?” He asks, his voice almost a whisper. You grin and nod, climbing off of him. You shove your pants down eagerly while Steve gets on his knees in front of you, hands resting on your thighs. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart a little bit. One of his hands strokes you through the fabric of your boxers, and he gently pulls your cock out, pressing his lips to the head. His lips wrap around the head, tongue gliding along it as he slowly strokes at the base.

You run your fingers through his hair as he takes more of you into his mouth. He lowers his head more and more, until you're fully into his mouth. He pulls your cock all the way out before swallowing it down his throat, bobbing his head and using his tongue to lick against the underside of it. He gags a little, but keeps going, his eyes tearing up a little. You thrust into his mouth, pushing his head down lightly, still letting him do it himself for the most part.

His lips are slick with his spit, dripping down his chin as he releases muffled moans around you. You groan, holding his head in place for a moment, and he lets you thrust yourself into his mouth roughly, staring up at you. The eye contact makes the heat in your stomach grow, and you pull out before you can get to your release. Steve catches his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He grins up at you while you calm yourself down.

“Getting excited already?” He asks teasingly. You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Shut up.” You respond in a joking tone, leaning down and kissing the man on the lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. He sits back on the couch, and you're instantly back on him, kissing his neck and squeezing his thigh.

He sighs in pleasure, and he pulls his pants off, dropping them on the floor. He turns onto his stomach, pushing his hips back against your dick. You grab his hips, grinding yourself against him a little before pushing his underwear down, revealing his plush, hair covered thighs and thick ass. You spread him open, showing his tight hole, already slick with what you assume is lube. He lets out a soft whimper that he tries to cover.

“Did you already prep yourself?” You ask, kind of surprised.

He turns his head back a little to look at you, half nodding. “I tried to make myself tired, but it didn't work and then I was super..” He trails off, looking for the word.

“Needy?” You finish, giving his ass a squeeze. He moans softly.

“Yeah. For you.”

You giggle lightly, grinding your cock against his hole as it clenches and unclenches around nothing desperately. Steve lets out a few soft gasps, burying his face in his arm as his heavy cock hangs between his legs, tip rubbing up against the couch. You notice and pull your shirt off, sliding it under him so he doesn't ruin the couch. That'd be really hard to explain to your parents.

You almost want to stay like this forever, watching this gorgeous man beneath you grind his ass back against your cock, hole slick and ready to take all of you. You hold him still, guiding yourself into him. Steve groans as the head pops in, and you slowly, almost painfully slow, slide your cock into his ass, his walls inviting you in, holding you snugly.

He has to resist the urge to whine, your dick stretching him out so good, nothing like his fingers. It was exactly what he was craving, legs shaking as you push in to the base and pressing so deliciously against his prostate.

You start to move, thrusting in and out of him before pulling out to the head and slamming yourself back into him. He moans loudly, back arching. His fingers claw at the arm of the couch as you pound into him, your thick cock bullying its way into the man's tight hole each time, pounding against his prostate.

Steve is practically seeing stars, and you have to reach forward to cover his mouth, not wanting your neighbors to hear how loud he's being. He moans loudly into your palm as you dig the nails of your other hand into his hip. He fucks himself back on you and you feel him tense up as he cums without warning, spurting all over the shirt you placed under him. You don't slow down even a little, completely abusing that sensitive spot inside of him and making him twitch and whine from the overstimulating pleasure.

You keep stretching his hole wide, and Steve swears he can feel you in his stomach, knowing he definitely won't be able to walk afterwards. The sound of skin against skin fills your living room, Steve's muffled moans bordering on full on yelling sounding like absolute music to your ears.

He lets out a loud, heavy sob as he tenses again, squeezing tight around you and cumming again. His eyes roll back before his head falls against the arm of the couch. You stop covering his mouth, the only sounds he's letting out being soft, breathy whimpers and desperate gasps for air.

You pound into him a few more times before pulling out and getting off the couch, pumping your cock as you grab Steve by the hair, yanking his head back. He looks so thoroughly fucked out and he sticks out his tongue as you jerk yourself off over his face, groaning as you shoot your hot load all over his face. He moans weakly, swallowing what he could catch in his mouth and dropping his head back down when you let go of him.

He pants heavily, as do you, catching your breaths, when you notice that he's still hard, cock rubbed red against your bundled up t-shirt. He lifts his head enough to look at you, and wiggles his hips a little, silently begging you to keep going. You get back up. You had a lot of time before your parents got back, after all.

[n0vazsq]

Love shot | MV1 x Reader

pairing . . . hitman!max verstappen x mega!rich!reader

summary . . . You never suspected to fall in love with your assistant, but when he tells you something groundbreaking, you don't know what to believe

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 1.4k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . i feel so bad for reader omg like girl you dont deserve that?? also yes i am acting like i didnt write this shit

. . . You had never been one for grand parties or society's shallow circles. You were the heiress to a vast fortune that seemed to grow larger every day, yet it never seemed to fill the emptiness inside you.

After your father’s passing, the inheritance came with a weight you never asked for, pushing you into a world of power and danger you barely understood.

The mansion where you lived, nestled away from the prying eyes of the city, was meant to be your sanctuary, but it often felt like an extravagant cage.

You preferred the solitude of your home, away from the pressures of high society and endless obligations. That’s when you had started to notice him, the quiet figure in the background.

He wasn’t like the others. While your estate was filled with a rotating cast of servants and security, there was something different about Max, or as you had come to know him, Marcus.

He introduced himself as a personal assistant, a new hire who would help with the day to day operations of the house. His professional demeanor and neatly pressed uniform made him seem like just another cog in the machine.

But Max, Marcus, wasn't like the others. He moved with a practiced ease, slipping between tasks without drawing attention to himself, yet somehow, you found yourself drawn to him.

At first, you thought it was just the feeling of having someone new in your otherwise quiet world. But the more you saw of him, the more you began to notice things that intrigued you.

There was a quiet strength about him, an air of mystery that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He never stayed long in any one place, his presence often fleeting, but you caught glimpses of something deeper when his eyes met yours, something more than just professionalism.

It was on a chilly evening, weeks after Max had started working for you, that the first real conversation between you two happened.

You had been sitting by the fire, absently flipping through a book when you heard footsteps approaching. Without looking up, you assumed it was just another of your staff, but the voice that interrupted the silence made you glance up.

"Is it too late to bring you something warm, Miss? Tea, perhaps?" Max’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.

You smiled, gesturing to the seat across from you. "Tea sounds perfect."

As he moved to prepare the tea, you watched him carefully. The way his hands worked with precision, the way his body language was always so controlled; it fascinated you.

He wasn't like any of the other assistants or servants you had encountered. Most of them treated you with a kind of cautious respect, but Max seemed different. His eyes, though polite, didn’t shy away from meeting yours.

They weren’t filled with the usual fear that people often had when they dealt with someone of your status. There was something in his gaze, something that made you wonder if he saw you as more than just the heiress of a fortune.

After a moment, he placed the tea down in front of you with a small, respectful nod. "I didn’t mean to intrude, Miss. But I thought you might enjoy some company."

You looked up at him, surprised by his words. He had always been so reserved, never seeking attention or conversation. It was strange, and yet it made you feel a little less alone.

"You don’t have to be formal with me, you know," you said, offering him a soft smile. "I know you're just doing your job, but I appreciate the company."

Max paused, his eyes flickering toward the fire before looking back at you. There was something about his gaze that was softer now, less guarded. "It’s… not a bother. I find it nice, talking to you."

The words hung in the air between you two, and you both fell into an easy silence, the crackle of the fire filling the space where words would’ve been.

Over the next few weeks, your interactions with Max grew more frequent, and you found yourself looking forward to his presence.

It was subtle at first; a quiet conversation over dinner, a brief exchange in the hallway, the occasional shared look across the room when you were in the same place. But it wasn’t long before you began to feel a connection with him, one that went beyond just the formality of employer and assistant.

One evening, as you both worked late into the night, you looked up from the papers spread across the table to see Max standing by the door, watching you. His gaze was focused, his expression unreadable. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, what he saw when he looked at you.

"Max," you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. "You don’t have to stay this late. I can finish up myself."

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don’t mind. You’ve been working hard. Besides, I… enjoy being here."

The words left you with a flutter in your chest. There was something so genuine in his voice that it made you rethink your previous assumptions. He wasn’t just a hired hand, he was different, and you felt it.

Days turned into weeks, and with every passing day, the space between you two seemed to shrink. He would find ways to help you with little things; bringing you coffee in the morning, offering quiet advice when you were stressed, and sometimes even staying to talk about things that weren’t about work at all.

You learned small details about him; how he liked to keep to himself, how he didn’t share much about his past, and how his eyes seemed to soften whenever you spoke to him.

In return, you found yourself opening up to him more than you had to anyone else. You shared your fears about the empire your father left behind, your loneliness, your struggles to fit into a world you never chose.

In those moments, you didn’t feel like the heiress; you felt like just a woman, speaking to someone who didn’t look at you with judgment or expectation.

And then, one day, it happened. You were sitting together, talking about your father, when he asked, almost out of nowhere, "Do you ever wish things were different? That your life wasn’t so… tangled up in all this?"

You stared at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. You had never expected Max, of all people, to ask such a question. But in that moment, you saw something in him, a depth that you hadn’t noticed before.

"I wish things were different every day," you said softly, meeting his eyes. "But I don’t know how to make it stop. How to be free of all of this."

Max’s gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts. He opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated, his expression clouded with something you couldn’t quite read.

"Max, what’s going on with you?" you asked, your voice soft but firm. "You’ve been acting different lately. What’s on your mind?"

For a long moment, he said nothing, and then, almost reluctantly, he spoke. "I… I never meant to get close to you. That wasn’t part of the plan."

Your heart stopped. The words hung in the air, and you could feel a lump form in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. Was this the moment you had been dreading, the moment he would reveal the truth about why he was really there?

"I was hired to watch you," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "To make sure you didn’t become a problem. I was supposed to kill you."

The world seemed to freeze in that moment. All the warmth, the connections, the late night talks, the quiet laughter; it all felt like a cruel lie.

"You…" you whispered, trying to process his words. "You were hired to kill me?"

Max’s eyes were filled with regret, but there was no way to undo the truth. "I didn’t expect any of this," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "I didn’t expect to care about you."

Silence settled between you two like a heavy fog. The world around you seemed to collapse, leaving you with only the bitter reality of his confession. You had trusted him, you had opened up to him, and now you didn’t know who he was anymore.

"I don’t know if I can trust you," you said, your voice shaking. "How do I know that you really care about me? Or if this is all just part of your plan?"

Max stepped closer, his expression softening. "I never meant for it to happen like this, but I do care. I swear to you, I do."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your emotions a tangled mess. You wanted to believe him, but could you? How could you be sure he wasn’t lying?

But before you could ask another question, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps; heavy, purposeful, coming down the hallway.

Max’s face hardened. "We don’t have time for this."

He turned to face the door, and you realized that whatever came next would change everything.

And as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, you knew that your life, your future, was no longer in your hands.

 taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[ghostlysoaps]

Handle with care

A sort-of successor to this, but can be read as a stand-alone

Ghost is being hunted. Kept moving forwards at an unsustainable pace while the predator at his back stalks him through winding halls and lingers in his periphery when at a standstill. A very persistent, very Scottish, threat to his sanity. The nape of his neck prickles again with the sensation of being watched, some latent prey instinct rearing its head to warn him of danger, though he stubbornly keeps his posture, hands clasped loosely behind him, refusing to bend to psychological warfare.

The relief he feels closing the door behind himself is short-lived seeing as when he stumbles out of the shower, Johnny is sitting on his bunk. Nicked the hoodie right from over the back of his chair too, the kleptomaniac imp.

"You make a habit out of crawling into your superior's bed?" Ghost drawls.

"You know I do." Soap tracks his progress, and Ghost grunts in acknowledgement of his words. Remembers nearly knifing him the first time it happened, when he'd been startled awake by the scrape of boots against concrete. Left him with bruises after slamming him against the wall before his consciousness caught up with his body. Nowadays, when Johnny materialises in his doorway or at the side of his bed, haunted by whatever darkness his demons are made of, Simon groggily lifts the sheets and allows him to crawl inside with him, wrapping his arm around Johnny's torso to keep him from falling off the mattress.

When Ghost has wormed himself into a pair of briefs, he feels a touch on his arm – light as a feather.

"I'm not in the mood, Johnny."

Too sore, too tired, too sure he'd burst into tears in the aftermath if his sergeant looked at him long enough.

"Promise I'm no' after yer virtue." Johnny crosses his heart. Simon can feel the movement of it in how the air is displaced and he quirks a smile in spite, or perhaps because of, how tired he is. Which Johnny takes as encouragement. He smiles too, equally small and ten times as genuine. "Let me try something."

Like a lamb to the slaughter, unduly trusting the butcher guiding it, Simon allows Johnny to usher him to bed. He lies down, back exposed – in for a penny an' all that – knowing his vulnerability wouldn't be taken advantage of. Johnny kisses his nape in silent thanks. There's a rustling of paper before he's swinging himself up on the bed too. His thighs press against Simon's own, caging him in, though the flight-fight-freeze response he should have had to being trapped is notably absent. He can't help but wonder why. Is it due to allowing himself to be snared in the first place? Welcoming the tightening noose Johnny had placed around his neck, head hung limp in surrender, throat bared to eyes encapsulating the night's sky, solely because it meant his sergeant’s hand would rest on the lead of his chain.

A kind hand, unlike the others, the very same that settles warm and sweet right underneath his ribcage.

"This alright?"

"Mm. No funny business."

"Wouldnae dream of it."

There's a click and the sound of slick skin sliding against skin. Simon shifts, a frown pulling at his brows, shoulders rising, bunching until the muscles stand out starkly beneath a thin veneer of skin. His ears strain to pick up noise, fill in the gaps of the world he's missing while staring into the bedding.

"Hey, you're okay," Johnny says and this time the flat of his palm draws a line from the base of his spine all the way to his neck. Smooth as butter. Thumbing circles right at the base of his skull until one by one his cramping trapezius and deltoids and latissimus dorsi unwind. The overactive mechanisms which keep him prepared to leap into action returning to a dormant state.

Johnny hums, pleased. Keeps his touch light as he spreads the oil down the dales and peaks of his back. Tripping over freckles he's never seen but Johnny insists are there. Making sure Simon is well and truly relaxed before increasing the pressure.

It's divine. If he'd been able to form a coherent thought, or possessed a single artistic bone in his body, Simon would write odes about Johnny’s hands. They're a fucking gift. A treasure to be coveted. Draining tension from places he hadn't known kept them with the same assured confidence he bleeds enemy combatants dry. Simon groans. It reverberates from a place deep within his chest, where he thinks his soul must be. The tattered, scrappy thing liquifying, same as the vessel containing it, dripping down his vertebrae to gather at the small of his back – as warm and malleable as molten iron.

"I've got you."

The words come to him in the whisper of a breath against his cheek as he disappears within the push and pull of Johnny’s deft fingers, drowns in the lethargy replacing his overworked body, and he doesn't resurface for minutes, or days, or hours, he can't be sure. Certain shifts in sensation bring him close. Like the warm, soft texture of cloth being run down his spine and up his shoulder blades. But then Johnny’s weathered palms replace it again and Simon goes down like a babe under a lullaby.

When next he claws his way to awareness, he's staring at the crackling white paint of the ceiling with Johnny hovering above his knees. By now, he's lost all pretense of it being a massage. The oil he'd carried is replaced by a thick lotion which he continues to rub along the many scars littering Simon's figure. A pink, recently healed wound is of particular interest. One Johnny had seen the aftermath of. He's firm while handling it, though never to the point of pain. Circling his thumbs into the raised flesh and spreading whatever creams he'd bought until they're thoroughly absorbed.

"There," he hums, sliding his tacky palms up around the outside of his thighs, further and further, over his stomach and collarbone, until he’s cradling Simon's face. "Wasn't so bad, aye?"

He means to respond. Truly, he does. But what crawls out if his throat is akin to a toad's croak as he gorges himself on the sight of Johnny's effervescent eyes and laughing mouth. Johnny leans down with a pleased huff to coax Simon's tongue back to life. Teaches him in slow slides and with gentle prodding how to move it, drags it from its resting place in the cradle of his jaw, until it's no longer foreign to him.

"'S good," Simon murmurs against his lips.

"Right glowing review that. Cannae even string three words together and tha's wha–"

A tidal wave of fondness crashes into him and he's helpless to resist tasting that blinding grin, scrounging up just enough energy to lift his chin and slip his tongue into Johnny’s waiting mouth. He sips from the bottomless well of Johnny’s happiness until it coats his palate, his molars, the delicate lining of his cheeks. It mellows his firecracker of a sergeant. Softens the quirk of his lips into a gentle curve. Leaves him sagging into Simon's chest with a content sigh.

"Thank you," Simon says.

"No' sure ye should thank me fer being selfish."

"If that's what that was, 'm not sure I could survive you bein' altruistic."

Johnny snorts against the hollow of his throat. His weight bearing down on him is at once keeping him rooted and causing him to float further away. Eyelids drooping, it's a true test of mettle to drape his arms around Johnny's back – seeing as they're akin to lead weights at his sides – but he manages. Snuffling into the silken tresses of hair to catch a whiff of expensive conditioner and smoke. The latter clinging stubbornly to his sergeant no matter how often he washes himself. It’s one of the downsides of playing with fire, not that Simon minds. It’s as intricately twined to Johnny as his accent. It means safety. Refuge. Home.

“Stayin’?”

“No place ah’d rather be ‘n cooried up with ye, lovie, other ‘n under th’ covers.”

Simon hums. It does sound nice, and also like something they should've thought of half an hour ago. Ever the problem-solver, Johnny tucks his freezing feet in the grove between Simon's calves and calls it a day, the absolute fucker.

[faithsotherhouseofchaos]

Two peas in a pod||Lando Norris x single mom reader and OC!Jasper

Word count 851

The knock on her door was light but insistent, a familiar rhythm that Y/N had come to associate with her next-door neighbor.

“Lando!” Jasper bolted from the couch, dropping his crayons mid-doodle as he darted toward the door. His small feet thudded against the hardwood, his excitement visible.

“Hey, champ!” Lando greeted him with a wide grin, crouching to meet the boy’s height. In his hand was a brightly colored toy car, one that looked like his McLaren.

Jasper’s face lit up as he took the car. “Whoa! It’s like your race car!”

“Pretty close,” Lando said, “Now, here’s the deal: you’ve got to take care of it while I’m gone. Think you can do that?”

Jasper nodded so hard it looked like his curls might bounce off his head. “Yes! I’ll keep it super safe!”

Lando stood, his smile softening as Y/N appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “You’re going to turn him into a collector at this rate,” she teased, but her eyes sparkled with appreciation.

“Better a collector than a critic,” Lando shot back with a wink. “Besides, he earned it. Heard from a little birdie that he got a gold star at school yesterday.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been talking to his teacher?”

He grinned sheepishly. “More like eavesdropping in the hallway yesterday when I ran into you both.”

She shook her head but couldn’t hide her smile. “Well, come in. Dinner’s just about ready.”

The scent of lasagna filled the apartment, warm and inviting. It was a small space, but Y/N had made it feel like home—photos of her and Jasper lined the walls, alongside the boy’s finger-paint masterpieces. Lando always felt a little more at ease here than in his own apartment next door.

He hung his jacket on the back of the chair and settled in at the table. Jasper immediately climbed onto his lap, launching into a detailed recount of his day.

“And then we had art, and Miss Clara said mine was the best!” Jasper held up his crayon drawing—a wobbly but colorful rendering of what might have been a racetrack.

Lando studied it like it was a masterpiece. “Mate, this is incredible. You’ve got talent. You’ll be designing the next Formula 1 racetrack before we know it.”

Jasper giggled, his face glowing with pride.

Y/N watched from the counter as she poured water into glasses, her heart squeezing at the sight. Lando was so natural with Jasper like he’d been doing this his whole life.

“So, how was testing?” she asked as she brought the glasses to the table and took a seat.

“Not bad,” Lando said, shifting Jasper slightly so he could dig into the lasagna. “The car’s feeling decent. Few tweaks here and there, but I think we’re in a good spot for the season opener.”

Jasper’s eyes widened. “Are you gonna win, Lando?”

“I’m gonna try, buddy,” Lando said, ruffling his hair. “And when I do, you’ll be the first person I call.”

Y/N shook her head with a laugh. “No pressure or anything.”

The evening passed in easy conversation, punctuated by Jasper’s endless energy. By the time the boy was tucked into bed, clutching his new toy car like it was a treasure, Y/N, Lando was standing in the hallway outside his room.

“He’s out like a light,” Lando whispered, glancing back toward the door.

“He always is after you visit,” Y/N said, her voice soft. “You’re like his favorite person in the world.”

Lando shrugged, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—a mix of pride and vulnerability. “He’s a great kid. Hard not to like him.”

As they walked back to the front door, Y/N lingered for a moment, her fingers brushing the edge of the counter. “Thanks for coming over. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with the season starting soon.”

Lando turned to her, his expression gentle. “You and Jasper aren’t just my neighbors, Y/N. You’ve done more for me than you probably realize.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “We’ve just… fed you a lot of lasagna,” she joked, trying to lighten the moment.

He laughed softly but didn’t let the moment slip entirely. “Seriously. This place feels more like home than mine ever has. That’s because of you two.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten, the weight of his words settling somewhere deep. She offered him a small smile. “Well, you’re stuck with us now.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said before stepping out into the hallway.

As the door closed behind him, Lando made his way to his apartment. He glanced back at her door for a moment, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest.

What was it about that tiny apartment, that little boy, and that woman that made him feel more at ease than he had in years?

He told himself it was nothing. Just a good night with good people.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple.

[phamapple]

H.S.K.T

Minjeong could rant about her de taste for the song “H.S.K.T” but that song soon became her most played song when she overheard her crush gushing about it

Warnings; fluff, fem!reader, kissing, quiet x outgoing, music freak reader, lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 5.5k WC

The hallways of Seoul High School were always filled with the sound of laughter and chatter, but for Y/N, the only sound that truly mattered was music. She lived and breathed it, spending every spare moment listening to her favorite artists, discovering new genres, and even composing her own songs.

Y/N's love for music was infectious, and it wasn't uncommon to see her walking down the hallway with her earbuds in, a look of pure joy on her face. Her friends and classmates had grown accustomed to her musical obsession, and they often joked that she had a soundtrack playing in her head at all times.

But amidst all the chaos and noise of high school life, there was one person who watched Y/N with a quieter, more introspective gaze. Minjeong, a tall and soft-spoken senior, had harbored a secret crush on Y/N for what felt like an eternity.

Minjeong loved the way Y/N's eyes lit up when she talked about music, the way her entire face seemed to come alive with passion and excitement. She loved the way Y/N's hair curled slightly at the edges when she wore her earbuds, and the way her smile could light up an entire room.

For Minjeong, it was more than just a passing infatuation. She had fallen deeply, irrevocably in love with Y/N, and she didn't know how to process her emotions, or how to navigate the complex, terrifying landscape of her own heart.

As the new school year began, Minjeong found herself drawn to Y/N more and more, her feelings growing stronger with each passing day. And Y/N, oblivious to the quiet, devoted gaze that followed her everywhere, simply continued to live her life, surrounded by the music that brought her so much joy.

—

Minjeong rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she sat down at the lunch table with her friend Karina. "I swear, have you heard that trending song by Lee Hi and wonstein ?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Karina looked up from her phone, a curious expression on her face. "You mean 'H.S.K.T.'?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Minjeong nodded vigorously. "Yes, that's the one! I mean, I get it, the melody is catchy and all, but the lyrics are so repetitive. It's just the same phrase over and over again. I mean, can't they come up with something more original?"

Karina chuckled. "You're just not a fan of rnb, Minjeong," she teased.

Minjeong shook her head. "I'm just saying, there's better music out there. Music that actually means something, you know?"

Just then, Y/N walked by their table, earbuds firmly in place. Minjeong's eyes followed her, a soft smile spreading across her face. She didn't notice Karina watching her, a knowing glint in her eye.

"Minjeong, you're so oblivious," Karina whispered, a grin spreading across her face.

Minjeong turned back to Karina, a questioning look on her face. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Karina just chuckled and shook her head. "Never mind, Minjeong. Just never mind."

As Y/N and her friends sat down at the table next to Minjeong and Karina, Minjeong's breath hitched in her throat. She felt a sudden rush of heat to her cheeks, and she knew she was blushing.

She tried to play it cool, focusing on her lunch and pretending she wasn't aware of Y/N's presence. But it was no use. She could feel Y/N's energy, her infectious enthusiasm, and it was drawing Minjeong in like a magnet.

As she listened, Minjeong heard Y/N start talking to her friend Ryujin about music. Specifically, about the song "H.S.K.T.".

"Oh my gosh, Ryujin, have you heard the new remix of 'H.S.K.T.'?" Y/N asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

Ryujin nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "Yeah, I heard it yesterday! It's so good!"

Y/N squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. "I know, right? I've been listening to it nonstop. I'm totally obsessed!"

Minjeong's eyes widened as she listened to Y/N's enthusiastic rant. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Y/N, the girl she had a crush on, was actually a huge fan of the song Minjeong had just been trashing.

As Y/N continued to gush about the song, Minjeong found herself feeling more and more intrigued. What was it about "H.S.K.T." that Y/N loved so much? Was it really as bad as Minjeong thought, or was there something she was missing?

Minjeong's curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself leaning in, listening more closely to Y/N's conversation. She didn't even realize she was doing it, but Karina noticed, and raised an eyebrow.

"Minjeong, you okay?" Karina whispered, nudging her friend with her elbow.

Minjeong nodded, still listening to Y/N's enthusiastic monologue. "Yeah, I'm fine," she whispered back. "I just...I want to hear more about this song."

Karina grinned, a knowing glint in her eye. "Ooooooooooo," she whispered, teasing Minjeong mercilessly.

Minjeong's face went bright red as she realized she'd been caught. But she couldn't help it. She was intrigued by Y/N's passion, and she wanted to know more.

As soon as Minjeong got home from school, she found herself wandering over to her computer, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She had promised herself she wouldn't give in to her curiosity, but she just couldn't help it.

She typed in the name of the song, "H.S.K.T.", and hesitated for a moment before pressing play. The opening notes filled her room, and Minjeong felt a slight wince at the repetitive lyrics.

But as she listened more closely, something strange happened. The first thing that came to her mind was Y/N - her bright smile, her infectious enthusiasm, her passion for music.

Minjeong couldn't help but smile as she thought about Y/N, and before she knew it, she was tapping her foot along with the beat. The repetitive lyrics didn't seem so annoying anymore, and she found herself singing along to the chorus.

As the song came to an end, Minjeong felt a pang of disappointment. She didn't want it to be over. So she did the only thing she could think of - she pressed play again.

And again.

And again.

Before she knew it, Minjeong had listened to "H.S.K.T." eight times in a row. She was surprised by how much she had grown to love the song, and she knew exactly why.

It was because of Y/N.

As she drifted off to sleep, Minjeong couldn't help but wonder what other songs Y/N loved, and whether she would ever get the chance to share her own musical passions with her crush.

Minjeong sat on her bed, her laptop open in front of her. She was determined to create the perfect playlist for Y/N - a collection of songs that would speak directly to Y/N's heart.

As she scrolled through her music library, Minjeong's mind wandered back to Y/N. She thought about the way Y/N's eyes sparkled when she talked about music, the way her smile could light up an entire room.

Minjeong's heart skipped a beat as she imagined Y/N listening to the playlist, her face lighting up with delight. She pictured Y/N seeking her out, thanking her for the playlist, and maybe even asking her to hang out.

With renewed enthusiasm, Minjeong started adding songs to the playlist. She chose tracks that reminded her of Y/N, songs that captured the essence of Y/N's bubbly personality.

As the playlist grew, Minjeong found herself pouring her heart and soul into it. She added songs that spoke to her own feelings, tracks that conveyed the emotions she couldn't quite express.

Before she knew it, Minjeong had created a playlist that was as much about Y/N as it was about herself. It was a collection of songs that told a story, a story of crushes and music and the power of connection.

Minjeong saved the playlist, a sense of pride and accomplishment washing over her. She knew that she had created something special, something that might just help her connect with Y/N on a deeper level.

Now, all she had to do was work up the courage to give it to Y/N.

—

Y/N's eyes widened as she scrolled through the playlist Minjeong had given her. She couldn't believe the effort Minjeong had put into creating it - the songs were all perfectly curated, each one speaking to Y/N's musical tastes in a way that felt almost uncanny.

As she listened to the playlist, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. It was clear that Minjeong had put her heart and soul into this playlist, and Y/N was touched by the thoughtfulness.

She looked up to see Minjeong watching her, a nervous expression on her face. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, and for a moment, they just stared at each other.

"Minjeong, this is...wow," Y/N said finally, breaking the silence. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Minjeong's face lit up with a smile, and Y/N's heart skipped another beat. She felt a flutter in her chest, and suddenly, she was seeing Minjeong in a whole new light.

Y/N's eyes scanned the playlist, and her face lit up with a bright smile. "You even put 'H.S.K.T.'!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.

Minjeong's heart skipped a beat as Y/N's face scrunched up, and she pouted, clearly touched by the gesture. Before Minjeong could react, Y/N had thrown her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

Minjeong's eyes widened in shock, and she froze, unsure of how to respond. She had dreamed of moments like this, but she never thought they would actually happen. She was about to hug Y/N back, but before she could, Y/N pulled away, her face flushing with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry I did that," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what came over me."

Minjeong's heart was still racing from the sudden hug, and she felt a pang of disappointment that it had ended so abruptly. But she tried to play it cool, not wanting to make Y/N feel any more awkward than she already did.

"It's okay," Minjeong said, trying to sound casual. "I'm just glad you liked the playlist."

Y/N smiled, looking relieved, and Minjeong's heart skipped another beat. She couldn't help but wonder what had just happened, and whether Y/N's hug had meant something more.

Karina watched the exchange between Minjeong and Y/N with interest, her eyes narrowing as she sensed the tension between them. She had known Minjeong for years, and she could tell when her friend was crushing hard.

As soon as Y/N walked away, Karina pounced, plopping down beside Minjeong on the bench. "Spill," she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Minjeong sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know, Karina. I think I might have misread the situation entirely."

Karina raised an eyebrow. "Misread the situation? You mean, like, you thought Y/N was into you?"

Minjeong nodded, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks. "Yeah. I mean, she hugged me, Karina. Out of nowhere."

Karina's grin grew wider. "That's not out of nowhere, Minjeong. That's a sign. And I'm not just talking about the hug."

Minjeong's eyes locked onto Karina's. "What do you mean?"

Karina leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I mean, Y/N's been watching you, Minjeong. I've seen the way she looks at you. She's interested."

Minjeong's heart skipped a beat as she processed Karina's words. Could it be true? Was Y/N really interested in her?

Karina's advice echoed in Minjeong's mind as she watched Y/N walk down the hallway. She had been waiting for the perfect moment to confess her feelings, and she couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

Minjeong took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She quickened her pace, catching up to Y/N just as she was about to turn a corner.

"Y/N, wait!" Minjeong called out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N turned around, a smile on her face. "Hey, Minjeong! What's up?"

Minjeong's heart skipped a beat as she gazed into Y/N's eyes. She could feel her pulse racing, her palms growing sweaty. This was it – the moment of truth.

But just as Minjeong was about to confess her feelings, Ryujin appeared out of nowhere, a concerned expression on her face.

"Y/N, baby, I'm not sure I'll be able to follow you to that W2E concert," Ryujin said, her voice hesitant. "Maybe you'll find someone else? I'm quite busy with my family on that day."

Y/N's face fell, and Minjeong could see the disappointment in her eyes. She nodded understandingly, but Minjeong could tell she was trying to hide her true feelings.

Ryujin nodded sympathetically before turning to leave. "Sorry again, Y/N! I feel terrible for bailing on you."

As Ryujin walked away, Y/N let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Minjeong's heart went out to her – she could see how much Y/N had been looking forward to the concert.

Without thinking, Minjeong spoke up, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Hey, Y/N, I'll go with you to the concert! I've heard great things about W2E, and I'd love to see them live."

Y/N's face lit up, and she let out a squeal of delight. "Really, Minjeong? You'd do that for me?"

Minjeong nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Of course, Y/N! I'd love to spend time with you."

Y/N's eyes sparkled with gratitude, and she threw her arms around Minjeong in a tight hug. "Thank you so much, Minjeong! You're the best!"

As Y/N bounced up and down, Minjeong couldn't help but laugh. She felt a sense of joy wash over her, and for a moment, she forgot all about her confession.

Y/N pulled back, still grinning from ear to ear. "I'll make sure to get us the best seats! Thanks again, Minjeong – you're a lifesaver!"

With that, Y/N skipped off down the hallway, leaving Minjeong to watch her go with a dreamy sigh. Minjeong's heart was still racing, but it wasn't just from the excitement of confessing her feelings – it was from the sheer joy of making Y/N happy.

As she stood there, a goofy grin spreading across her face, Minjeong realized that she had forgotten all about her confession. She had been so caught up in the moment, so happy to see Y/N smile, that she had let her chance slip away.

But as she turned to walk away, Minjeong couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she would get another chance to confess her feelings to Y/N. And maybe, just maybe, Y/N would feel the same way.

The weekend finally arrived, and Y/N's excitement was palpable. She had been looking forward to the W2E concert all week, and she couldn't wait to share the experience with Minjeong.

As she waited for Minjeong to arrive, Y/N found herself pacing back and forth in her room. She had spent hours getting ready, trying on different outfits and doing her hair and makeup just right.

Just as she was starting to get anxious, Y/N's phone buzzed with a text from Minjeong. "Hey, I'm ready! Maybe we should meet up somewhere?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she read the text. She quickly typed out a response, but before she could hit send, Minjeong sent another text. "Wait, don't worry about meeting up. I'll come pick you up."

Y/N's face lit up with a smile as she read the text. She felt a flutter in her chest at the thought of Minjeong coming to pick her up.

As she waited for Minjeong to arrive, Y/N found herself walking around her room, checking her reflection in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time.

Just as she was starting to get impatient, Y/N heard the sound of a horn outside. She rushed to the window and pulled back the curtain, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Minjeong's car parked outside.

Y/N grabbed her bag and rushed downstairs, flinging open the front door and sliding into the passenger seat of Minjeong's car.

As she settled into her seat, Minjeong turned to her with a bright smile. "OMG, your outfit is so cute!" she exclaimed, her eyes scanning Y/N's outfit.

Y/N's face flushed with pleasure as she thanked Minjeong, feeling a little self-conscious about her outfit. "Nah, yours is better," she said, taking note of Minjeong's outfit. "Mine is just casual wear."

Minjeong laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Casual wear? You look amazing, Y/N! I love the baggy clothes on you."

Y/N's blush deepened as she smiled, feeling a little more at ease. "Thanks, Minjeong. You always know how to make me feel better."

As they pulled away from the curb, Minjeong glanced over at Y/N, her eyes shining with excitement. "I'm so glad we're doing this, Y/N. I've been looking forward to it all week."

Y/N grinned, feeling a sense of excitement wash over her. "Me too, Minjeong. Me too."

As they drove to the concert venue, the two girls chatted excitedly, discussing everything from their favorite W2E songs to their plans for the summer.

The atmosphere in the car was electric, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and excitement. She was so glad she had agreed to go to the concert with Minjeong.

As they pulled up to the venue, Y/N's heart skipped a beat. The line of fans waiting to get in stretched around the block, and the air was electric with excitement.

Minjeong grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready, Y/N?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of anticipation wash over her. "Born ready, Minjeong."

As the concert got underway, Y/N found herself getting more and more into the music. She was singing along to every song, dancing with abandon, and having the time of her life.

But as the crowd around her grew more intense, Y/N started to feel overwhelmed. The noise, the lights, the sheer number of people pressing in on her from all sides – it was all starting to feel a bit too much.

Minjeong noticed that Y/N was starting to look a bit frazzled, and she quickly grabbed her hand, pulling her through the crowd to a safer spot near the back.

"Hey, are you okay?" Minjeong asked, her voice loud enough to be heard over the music. "You looked like you were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed."

Y/N nodded gratefully, feeling a bit better now that she was out of the crush of the crowd. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Just got a bit too much for me."

Minjeong smiled and put a reassuring arm around Y/N's shoulders. "Don't worry, I've got you," she said. "We can stay back here and enjoy the concert from a distance."

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at Minjeong's thoughtful gesture. She leaned into Minjeong's side, feeling grateful for her friend's support.

As they stood there, watching the concert from a safe distance, Y/N felt a sense of contentment wash over her. She was happy to be here with Minjeong, enjoying the music and each other's company.

And as she glanced over at Minjeong, she couldn't help but notice the way the lights from the stage illuminated her friend's face, making her look even more beautiful than usual.

As the concert went on, Y/N found herself feeling more and more drawn to Minjeong. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something about Minjeong's bright smile and infectious enthusiasm that made Y/N feel happy and alive.

At first, Y/N tried to brush off the feeling, telling herself she was just being silly. But as the night wore on, she couldn't shake the sense that her feelings for Minjeong went beyond friendship.

It wasn't until they were walking out of the venue, the cool night air a welcome relief after the hot and crowded concert hall, that Y/N realized the true extent of her feelings. Minjeong was laughing and chatting with her, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.

She was in love with Minjeong.

The realization hit Y/N like a ton of bricks, leaving her feeling stunned and disoriented. She didn't know what to do or say, so she just stood there, frozen in place, as Minjeong continued to chat and laugh beside her.

Meanwhile, Minjeong was oblivious to the turmoil going on inside Y/N's head. She was too busy basking in the glow of their wonderful night together, feeling grateful and happy that she had gotten to share this experience with her dear friend.

But as they walked to the car, Minjeong couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Y/N seemed a bit quieter than usual, a bit more subdued, and Minjeong wondered if everything was okay.

"Hey, Y/N, are you doing all right?" Minjeong asked, her voice soft with concern. "You seem a bit quiet tonight."

Y/N hesitated, unsure of how to respond. She didn't want to lie to Minjeong, but she wasn't ready to reveal her true feelings either.

"I'm fine, Minjeong," Y/N said finally, forcing a smile onto her face. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

Minjeong looked at her skeptically, but she didn't push the issue. Instead, she just smiled and nodded, her eyes shining with warmth and understanding.

As they drove home, the silence between them was comfortable and companionable. Minjeong chatted occasionally, pointing out landmarks and talking about the concert, but for the most part, they just enjoyed each other's company, the quiet darkness of the night wrapping around them like a warm blanket.

It wasn't until they pulled up in front of Y/N's house, the porch light casting a warm glow over the scene, that Minjeong finally worked up the courage to confess her feelings.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Minjeong asked, her voice soft and hesitant.

Y/N looked at her curiously, wondering what Minjeong wanted to say. "Of course, Minjeong," she replied, her heart pounding in her chest.

Minjeong took a deep breath, her eyes locked on Y/N's face. "I just wanted to say thank you," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you for being such an amazing friend, for always being there for me."

Y/N's heart swelled with affection, and she felt a lump form in her throat. "Minjeong, you're an amazing friend too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Minjeong smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "I'm glad we're friends, Y/N," she said. "But I have to be honest with you – my feelings for you go beyond friendship."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she processed Minjeong's words. She had been hoping and dreaming of this moment for so long, and now that it was finally here, she didn't know what to say.

"Minjeong, I –" Y/N started, but Minjeong cut her off, her voice pouring out in a rush.

"I know it may seem sudden, Y/N, but I've been feeling this way for a while now. I was too scared to say anything, but I couldn't keep it inside anymore. I had to tell you, no matter how scared I was."

Y/N's heart went out to Minjeong, and she felt a wave of love and affection wash over her. She knew exactly what Minjeong was feeling – the fear, the uncertainty, the hope.

"Minjeong, I –" Y/N started again, but this time, she was interrupted by her own heart, which was pounding in her chest like a drum.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but it was no use. Her feelings for Minjeong were too strong, too overwhelming.

"Minjeong, I feel the same way," Y/N said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Minjeong's face lit up with joy, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/N's in a soft, gentle kiss. Y/N's heart soared as she felt Minjeong's lips on hers, and she knew in that moment that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

As they pulled back from the kiss, Minjeong's eyes shone with happiness, and Y/N couldn't help but smile back at her. They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other, the tension between them palpable.

"I'm so glad I told you," Minjeong said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was so scared, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of understanding and connection with Minjeong. "I'm glad you told me too," she said. "I've been feeling the same way, but I was too scared to say anything."

Minjeong's face lit up with a smile, and she reached out, taking Y/N's hand in hers. "I'm so glad we're on the same page," she said, her voice filled with emotion.

As they sat there, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes, Y/N felt a sense of happiness and contentment wash over her. She knew that this was just the beginning of their journey together, and she couldn't wait to see what the future held.

The night air was filled with the sound of crickets and the occasional passing car, but Y/N and Minjeong didn't notice. They were too lost in their own little world, a world of love, happiness, and possibility.

As the night wore on, they talked and laughed, sharing their hopes and dreams with each other. They were no longer just friends; they were something more, something special.

And as they sat there, under the stars, Y/N knew that she had found her soulmate in Minjeong. She was excited to see what the future held for them, and she knew that as long as they were together, everything would be okay.

—

Sunday morning dawned bright and early, and Y/N woke up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. She stretched out in bed, yawning widely, and reached for her phone to check her messages.

As she scrolled through her social media feeds, Y/N stumbled upon a video of the H.S.K.T challenge that had been making the rounds online. She had seen it before, but this time, something about it caught her eye.

Maybe it was the memory of Minjeong's bright smile and infectious laughter from the night before, but Y/N suddenly felt a strong urge to share the video with her girlfriend. She sent the video to Minjeong, along with a message that read: "Min, would you please do this challenge with me :("

Y/N couldn't help but add a few pleading emojis to the end of the message, hoping to guilt trip Minjeong into agreeing. She knew it was a bit silly, but she couldn't help herself – she was just too excited about the prospect of doing the challenge with her girlfriend.

Minjeong, on the other hand, was not surprised by Y/N's message. She had been expecting something like this, given Y/N's love of challenges and silly videos. And besides, she couldn't say no to Y/N's adorable pleading face, even if it was just a emoji.

"Of course, I'll do it with you!" Minjeong texted back, trying to sound casual despite her growing excitement. "When were you thinking of doing it?"

Y/N's response came almost immediately. "Thanks, Min! We'll do it when we meet up at the park :)"

Minjeong grinned, feeling a thrill of anticipation. She had been looking forward to meeting up with Y/N all day, and now she had something extra to look forward to. She quickly got dressed and ready, her mind racing with thoughts of the challenge and what they would do.

As she headed out the door, Minjeong couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. She had no idea what the challenge would entail, but she was ready to face it head-on with Y/N by her side.

Meanwhile, Y/N was getting ready on her end, her heart racing with excitement. She had always loved doing silly challenges and videos with her friends, and this one promised to be extra special. She was looking forward to spending time with Minjeong, and she knew that this challenge would be a great way to bond and create some unforgettable memories.

As she headed out the door, Y/N felt a sense of anticipation building up inside her. She knew that this day was going to be special, and she couldn't wait to see what the future held for her and Minjeong.

The park was just a short walk away, and Y/N arrived there a few minutes early, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of Minjeong. She spotted her girlfriend walking towards her, a bright smile on her face, and Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

"Hey!" Minjeong called out, waving enthusiastically. "I'm so excited to do this challenge with you!"

Y/N grinned, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness. "Me too!" she replied, holding up her phone. "I've got the video all cued up and ready to go. Let's do this!"

Y/N held up her phone, the video of the H.S.K.T challenge playing on the screen. "Okay, Minjeong, watch closely," she said, demonstrating the dance moves. "It's not too hard, I promise."

Minjeong watched intently, her eyes fixed on the screen. She nodded along, trying to commit the steps to memory.

When Y/N finished demonstrating the dance, Minjeong set her own phone down and stood up, a determined look on her face. "Okay, let's do this!" she exclaimed.

Y/N grinned, feeling a surge of excitement. "That's the spirit!" she said, holding out her hand to Minjeong.

Together, the two girls launched into the dance, laughing and spinning to the music. They stumbled over a few of the steps, but they didn't let that stop them. They kept going, their laughter and joy infectious.

As they finished the final step of the dance, Minjeong let out a whoop of excitement and threw her arms around Y/N. The two girls tumbled to the soft grass floor, holding onto each other tightly.

Their laughter erupted into the air, a joyful sound that echoed through the park. They lay there for a moment, holding onto each other, their hearts full of happiness.

Finally, Y/N managed to catch her breath and pause the video. She turned to Minjeong, a smile still plastered on her face. "You're an amazing dancer," she said, her eyes shining with amusement.

Minjeong grinned, her face flushed with excitement. "Thanks to you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she gazed into Minjeong's eyes. She felt a surge of affection and love, and without thinking, she leaned in and gave Minjeong a light kiss on the cheek.

Minjeong's eyes fluttered closed, and she held onto Y/N's waist tightly, her face still flushed with excitement. The two girls lay there for a moment, the only sound their happy sighs and the distant music still playing from Y/N's phone.

It was a moment of pure joy and happiness, a moment that neither of them would ever forget. And as they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, they both knew that their friendship had blossomed into something more – something special, something true, and something that would last a lifetime.

[killfortune]

𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 🌸

Wakatoshi Ushijima x Reader

Amidst the noise of a New Year’s party, you and Ushijima navigate the lingering tension of a small fight.

౨ৎ The night had been a blur of half-hearted smiles and missed glances, tension thick between you and Ushijima. The fight earlier had been small—something trivial, really—but it lingered, a quiet storm cloud over what was supposed to be a joyful celebration.

“You could’ve told me sooner,” you’d said earlier, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” he replied, his tone steady but distant, the way he always handled conflict. It frustrated you, how composed he stayed while your emotions simmered just below the surface.

Now, as laughter and countdowns filled the air, the tension between you hadn’t completely dissolved. You stood at opposite sides of the room for most of the night, both stubbornly avoiding the other even though your eyes met across the crowd more often than not. His gaze was steady every time, but you looked away, the weight of unresolved feelings prickling at your skin.

Chatter buzzed around you, drinks were passed, and yet you could only think about how off-balance you felt. Normally, Ushijima’s presence anchored you. Tonight, though, it felt like an invisible line tethering you to a frustration you couldn’t quite shake.

“Hey, you good?” one of your friends asked as they passed by.

You forced a small smile and a nod, but your eyes drifted back to him. Ushijima was quiet, sipping on a drink and leaning against the wall. He looked like he belonged in a different world—still, strong, and unbothered by the chaos around him. But his gaze flicked to you, lingering for a moment before he stood and crossed the room.

“Can we talk?” His deep voice was gentle but firm as he reached you, drawing a few curious glances from the people nearby.

You hesitated, then nodded, following him out to the balcony. The cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the warmth of the party. Ushijima turned to face you, his expression unreadable as he studied you.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset earlier,” he began, his tone calm but carrying an edge of something softer. “I didn’t realize it mattered to you.”

“It’s not just about what happened,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “It’s how you brushed it off. Like it wasn’t important.”

He was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “It’s not that it wasn’t important. I just didn’t know how to handle it.” His honesty caught you off guard, the simplicity of his words diffusing some of your lingering frustration.

“I just… I hate when we fight,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened as he took a step closer. “Me too.”

The door behind you swung open, letting a wave of noise spill onto the balcony as someone called out, “The countdown’s starting!”

You followed Ushijima back inside, the two of you standing closer now, his arm loosely draped around your shoulders. The room was electric with excitement, the countdown echoing in every corner.

“Ten… nine…”

The tension from earlier still lingered, but it felt lighter now, like a weight you were finally ready to let go of. Ushijima leaned down slightly, his lips brushing your ear. “Are you okay?”

You looked up at him, your heart squeezing at the concern etched into his features. “I’m okay,” you said, offering him a small smile.

“Five… four…”

He shifted, turning fully toward you, his broad shoulders shielding you from the chaos of the party. His hand rested on your face, thumb brushing against your cheek as he leaned down, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Three… two…”

“Come here,” he murmured, and before the final cheer erupted, his lips found yours.

The kiss was steady, grounding, and full of quiet reassurance. It wasn’t rushed or showy—he kissed you like he always did, with intention, as if nothing else in the world mattered but you. His other hand rested on your waist, drawing you closer as the distant sound of fireworks erupted outside.

When he finally pulled back, his brow rested gently against yours. “Happy New Year,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

You smiled despite yourself, the tension between you dissolving like snow under the sun. “Happy New Year,” you replied, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers.

The night felt brighter now, the lingering frustrations replaced by quiet understanding. With Ushijima’s unwavering presence grounding you, you knew that whatever the year brought, you’d face it together.

Thank you 🌸...

I hope this little New Year’s moment brought you a sense of warmth and peace. Wishing you all a wonderful year ahead!