#i was so so so so so close to drawing them in their casual clothes bc i hate drawing op's helmet as an actual helmet but its a super hero a | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pucksandpower · 7 months ago

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Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

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bookshelf-dust · 9 months ago

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baby love, my baby love

gif by @corrodedcherry

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1,880

warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things

a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love

————

“Where’s my girl at?”

Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne.

You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you.

When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you.

“Hey, bug,” he says.

You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.

You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture.

Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”

At least he’s honest.

You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”

He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”

You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way.

“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”

Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”

“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.”

You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.

The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip.

“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”

You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say.

He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen.

“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”

That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.

You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks.

He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”

You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke.

Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.

You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.

You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places.

He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh.

You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his.

Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes.

When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will.

“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.

“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”

Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does.

————

Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it.

After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body.

You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.

“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth.

Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”

You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves.

“Mhm. That felt so good.”

You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.

He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”

You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”

You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.

“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.

Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours.

Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth.

“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader fluff

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rafedarling · 1 month ago

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𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairing: sweet!rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: you and rafe have known each other for years, despite being from opposite sides of the social spectrum on the outer banks. while you’ve always been a pogue and he’s a kook, there’s always been a connection between the two of you, one that has deepened into friendship over the years. but when rafe shows up at your parents’ house one day with a bouquet of your mom’s favorite flowers, asking for permission to take you on a date, it becomes clear his feelings for you run deeper than you ever expected.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, friends-to-lovers, pogue vs. kook tension, supportive parents, a kind and sweet rafe cameron.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated, actually i wrote this for drew but i though oh why not a sweet rafe for this. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey

The Outer Banks was always divided—two worlds coexisting on the same stretch of sand and water, yet so far apart. The Pogues, like you, lived on the south side, where hard work, loyalty, and tight-knit community defined your way of life. The Kooks, like Rafe Cameron, lived on the north side, where money, power, and status were everything. Growing up, those lines were clear, and you were taught to stay on your side of them. Yet, as you got older, you began to realize that not all Kooks fit the mold.

Rafe was different.

He wasn’t the Rafe that the rest of the world saw—the Rafe who threw parties at Tannyhill, who had a reputation for getting into fights or drinking too much. With you, he was kind, thoughtful even. You had known each other for years, despite the social divide. It started with brief conversations on the docks or passing each other on the beach. But somehow, over time, those small exchanges turned into something more. Late-night talks when no one was around, shared glances across bonfires, and moments when it felt like the world around you faded away.

Still, you both kept it platonic—safe, avoiding the possibility of crossing a line that might complicate your lives. After all, what would people think? A Pogue and a Kook? No one would understand. But that didn’t stop the quiet tension that always seemed to linger between you two, the way his hand would hover just a little too close to yours, the way his eyes followed you when he thought you weren’t looking.

You had convinced yourself that Rafe was just being a good friend. That his kindness didn’t mean anything more than that. But everything changed the day he showed up at your parents’ house.

It was a warm afternoon, your mom sat at the table with her cup of coffee. Your dad was nearby, flipping through the latest fishing magazine, savoring the rare quiet weekend. The sound of the doorbell suddenly interrupted the peaceful atmosphere, drawing your dad’s attention.

“Who could that be?” your mom mused aloud, glancing toward the door.

Your dad stood up with his usual slow, deliberate pace, not expecting anyone. He made his way to the door and opened it, only to find Rafe Cameron standing on the front porch. Rafe, with his light brown hair and piercing blue eyes, looked as out of place as ever in your Pogue neighborhood. He held a bouquet of gardenias in his hand, the white petals stark against the casual but expensive clothing he wore.

Your dad blinked in surprise, not expecting to see him here. “Rafe?” he asked.

Rafe smiled, but there was a nervous edge to it. He’d been here before, of course—your parents knew him, albeit from a distance. He wasn’t a stranger, but he certainly wasn’t someone they saw frequently outside of the occasional gatherings. Still, Rafe had always been respectful, polite. And today, something in his expression told your dad that this visit wasn’t just a casual drop-by.

“Hey, Mr. Y/L/N,” Rafe greeted, shifting the flowers in his hand. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Your dad tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Not at all. Come on in, son,” he said, stepping aside and holding the door open.

Rafe walked inside, his gaze sweeping over the familiar interior of your home, which was far smaller and cozier than his sprawling family estate, Tannyhill. The warmth of the space, the lived-in feeling, was a sharp contrast to the cold elegance of his house. That’s what he always liked about coming here. It felt real.

Your mom appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, a curious look on her face when she saw Rafe standing in the foyer. “Rafe Cameron,” she said, her tone lifting in surprise.

“What brings you here? Is everything alright?”

Rafe smiled politely, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the nervous energy beneath his cool exterior.

“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he assured her. He lifted the bouquet in his hands and offered it to her. “These are for you. Y/N told me once that gardenias were your favorite.”

Your mom blinked in surprise, her lips parting slightly before a smile spread across her face. “Oh, Rafe,” she said softly, reaching for the flowers. “You didn’t have to. They’re beautiful.”

Rafe’s smile relaxed, his nerves easing a bit. “I just wanted to bring something.”

Your mom took the bouquet and inhaled the sweet scent of the gardenias. “You’re too kind, Rafe,” she said, her voice full of warmth.

“I’ll put these in a vase. Y/N’s always telling me how thoughtful you are.”

Rafe chuckled lightly, his eyes softening at the mention of you.

“She talks about you all the time too.”

Your dad, who had been observing the exchange quietly, leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms as he gave Rafe an appraising look. “So, Rafe, what brings you by? You and Y/N got plans today?”

At the question, Rafe’s heart skipped a beat. This was the moment he had been preparing for, the reason his palms were sweating despite his efforts to stay calm. He straightened slightly, taking a deep breath before answering.

“Actually,” he began, his voice steady but filled with a quiet intensity, “I came here to talk to you both about something. About Y/N.”

Your parents exchanged a look, their curiosity deepening. Your mom set the vase on the counter, her attention fully on Rafe now.

“Go on,” your dad said, his tone neutral but not unkind.

Rafe swallowed, his eyes flicking briefly toward the floor before meeting your dad’s gaze again. He wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable like this, but he knew he had to do this. He had to be honest, not just for himself but for you.

“I’ve known Y/N for a long time,” Rafe said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of his emotions.

“And she’s always been important to me. We’ve been friends for years, but over time, I realized that what I feel for her isn’t just friendship anymore.”

Your mom’s expression softened as she listened, her maternal instincts kicking in as she sensed the sincerity in his voice.

Rafe continued, his gaze steady but full of emotion. “I care about her, more than I ever thought I could care about anyone. And I didn’t want to move forward without talking to you first—without getting your permission.”

The room fell into a brief but meaningful silence as your parents processed his words. Rafe stood there, feeling the weight of the moment, knowing that this was more than just asking permission for a date. It was about showing respect—not just to you, but to your family, to the life you had built on the south side of the island, so different from his own.

“I know there’s a lot of history between Pogues and Kooks,” Rafe added, his voice softening, “but I don’t care about any of that. I just care about her. And I promise, if you give me a chance, I’ll do everything I can to make sure she’s happy.”

Your mom smiled softly, her eyes shining with affection. She had always liked Rafe, despite his background. She had seen the way he looked at you, the way he treated you with care and respect. And more than that, she knew you cared about him too, even if you hadn’t admitted it to yourself yet.

“Rafe,” she said gently, “you’ve always been a good friend to Y/N. And I can see that you’re serious about this.”

Your dad, who had remained quiet for a moment longer, nodded thoughtfully. He wasn’t blind to the tension between the Pogues and the Kooks, nor to the complications that could come with crossing those lines. But he also wasn’t blind to the fact that Rafe, despite his wealth and status, had always treated you with kindness. And as a father, that meant more to him than any social divide.

“Rafe,” your dad said, stepping forward, “if you’re sure about this—about her—then you’ve got my permission. But remember, this isn’t just a casual thing. If you’re serious, you’d better be ready to prove it.”

Rafe’s heart swelled with relief and gratitude. He had expected this to be difficult, but the approval in your dad’s voice, the trust in your mom’s eyes—it meant more to him than he could put into words.

“I am,” Rafe said, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

Your dad extended his hand, and Rafe took it, the handshake firm and full of unspoken understanding. Your mom smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with affection as she watched the exchange.

Just then, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the house. Your parents turned toward the door, and Rafe’s heart skipped a beat as you walked in, the sunlight streaming in behind you. You had just returned from the docks, your hair slightly tousled from the wind and your skin warm from the sun. You kicked off your shoes and set your bag down by the door before looking up.

“Hey, everyone,” you greeted, smiling as you stepped inside. Your eyes landed on Rafe, and your smile faltered slightly in confusion. “Hey, Rafe Cameron? What are you doing here?”

Your mom exchanged a knowing glance with your dad before turning to you with a warm smile. “Oh, nothing, sweetheart. Rafe was just stopping by to chat. Why don’t you two go sit in the living room for a bit?”

Your heart did a little flip in your chest as you looked between Rafe and your parents. Something was definitely up. There was a tension in the air, a kind of nervous energy that made your stomach flutter with anticipation. You had known Rafe long enough to know when he was holding something back.

“Uh, okay,” you said, your voice uncertain as you led Rafe into the living room. You sat down on the couch, motioning for him to join you. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, and your mind raced, trying to figure out what was going on.

Rafe sat beside you, his hands resting on his knees as he took a deep breath. He turned to face you, his blue eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away.

“Y/N,” Rafe began, his voice soft but steady, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as you watched him. Rafe had always been sweet to you, always treated you differently than the other Kooks, but you had never let yourself believe it could be anything more than friendship. After all, you were a Pogue, and he was a Kook. That was just how it was. But the look in his eyes now—it made you wonder if maybe you had been wrong all along.

“I care about you,” Rafe said, his voice low and full of emotion. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I know we come from different worlds, but that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, your mind reeling. Was this really happening? Rafe Cameron, one of the most popular Kooks on the island, was sitting in your living room, confessing that he had feelings for you.

“I talked to your parents before you got here,” Rafe continued, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. “I asked for their permission to take you out on a date. I wanted to do this the right way.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. Rafe wasn’t just confessing his feelings—he was showing you, in every way possible, that he was serious about this, about you.

“So,” Rafe said softly, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand, “will you go out with me, Y/N? On a real date?”

A tear slipped down your cheek, but you were smiling, your heart swelling with emotion as you nodded. “Yes, Rafe. I’d love to.”

Rafe’s face lit up with a smile that could have melted your heart on the spot. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours as he let out a soft, contented sigh.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

As you sat there, your hands intertwined and your hearts beating in sync, you realized something: maybe the lines between Kooks and Pogues didn’t matter as much as you had once thought. Maybe love was bigger than the social divide that separated your worlds.

And with Rafe, you were ready to find out.

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octoberautumnbox · 4 months ago

Text

The Sultry and Pervy Soda in Apartment 307

tripleS Seo Dahyun & Male Reader (ft. Kep1er Seo Youngeun)

Categories/warnings: smut, voyeur, masturbation, buncha others maybe idk I forgor

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: thanks to @thewritingrowlet for beta, to @sinswithpleasure for making me get off my ass to write this, and to @midnightdancingsol for the more-than-welcome poking me with a stick y'all r awesome :DDDD

Street lamps flickered to life as the sun shone a golden hue across the sky. The festivities were just about ending and people were exchanging goodbyes and good nights, clearing out slowly – one by one, then pairs, then swathes of people vacating the increasingly empty street. It was a grand stroke of luck for you to move into the neighborhood right before the street fair, and the moving guys didn't mind too much about the tricky navigation and maneuvering once their plates piled high with biryani chicken and jasmine rice.

After helping stack up the chairs and fold up the tarps, and of course waving at the other volunteers, you spot a girl struggling with a particularly tall tower of dirty paper plates. You rush over to her to lend a hand, but unfortunately for the both of you, the tower topples over and a splattering of soy sauce covers her shirt.

“Ah, Dahyun-unnie’s gonna kill me…” she whines, and you rush for as many clean tissues still on the tables that haven’t been cleared up.

“You okay? Anything hurt?” you hand the tissues to her and start picking up the plates, in two piles this time. A cursory glance to her and you find a volunteer’s nametag on her upper left.

“Fine, thanks,” she says as she wipes as much of the liquid off of her clothes as she can, “but if you don’t mind, I need to get changed or else I’ll never get this stain out.”

“No worries, Youngeun. Just get your stuff sorted and I’ll finish up here.”

She smiles and bows just as you get up from the ground, and she rushes off without much more fuss. You drop off the trash in the proper bin, dust off your hands, and after the organizer’s reassurance that they can handle everything else, you head on off to your own apartment.

~~~

Your door clicks shut behind you, and you not-so-gracefully crash into your bed. After the week you've had and the stress from the move, it just feels right to bury your face in your hands and groan in exhaustion. Once you let out a particularly satisfying sigh of fatigue, you let your arms fall to your sides, spread-eagle on the mattress, and drum your fingers into the soft cushioning.

You stare at the ceiling, making vain attempts to distract yourself by thinking random thoughts: “Should I get ice cream tonight?” “How long has the window been open?” “Is the ceiling cream or beige?” “Why does jacking off feel good?” “What's Wooyeon been up to lately?”

The last one does give you an idea, and you reach for your phone to check. Their comeback is just recently out, and you have to say, in one particular fancam she looks a bit too good to not stare. The way her outfit hugs her body, accentuates her curves, shows off just the right amount of skin…

The video plays on, and you casually strip yourself of your pants and underwear. Sitting up properly, you intently watch Wooyeon's performance, paying close attention to her creamy-looking thighs, her cute, glazeable tummy, and her pretty, ruinable smile. In no time at all, you're rubbing your cock to her performance, as if she's dancing just for you. Every wink she does sends another spark of lust through your system, each jiggle of her thighs another wish that you were in between them and eating her out. You keep a steady pace as you jack off to the woman on screen, lazily moving yet dead set on blowing your load to her.

The song draws to a close, the confetti flies, and Wooyeon strikes her ending pose. You admire her body one last time, paying special attention to her cute chest. She bends forward ever so slightly, the perfect tease, before she flashes a show-stopping smile as the camera zooms in on her face.

You reach your limit, and in no time at all you're shooting your cum into your hand. You had the sense to prepare a roll of tissue paper in your room just for moments like this, and it's not like you'd be admonished even if you weren't living alone. Catching your breath, you reach for the tissues on the desk and clean yourself up.

A breeze wanders into the room, and you look up to find its source: the open window. Mentally curse yourself, not to let this sort of thing happen again and embarrass yourself. As you make to close it, you find, just across from your own window, another open one that frames someone else. The girl standing in her own room in the building next door has her eyes fixed determinedly on you, her head tilted, her lower lip caught between her teeth just a little bit, and a mysterious smile on the corners of her mouth.

Immediately you feel heat rise up to your cheeks, and you're sure you've just turned a bright red. The girl's eyes wander up to meet yours, and the smile on her face vanishes. Her expression quickly turns into shock, then she shuts her eyes hard before pulling her curtains closed. Remembering you're in the same situation, you pull yours closed as well.

If anyone was going to admonish you for anything, it would be yourself, for letting this happen to yourself – What a fucking idiot.

~~~

You rise groggily, rolling off of your mattress like a dolt, but you’re at least able to catch yourself before you hit the cold ground. The heat got to you, and the floor seems a much better alternative than your bed at this point.

Righting your posture and laying your head on the tiles though, you decide this is no way to spend the night no matter how cold they are. Stumble around in the dark for a bit, deciding that it isn't worth the effort to turn on the light, and just resolve to navigate around your new bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment before dawn. Good start to a new life, you joke to yourself.

“Ah, fucking shit,” you grunt in defeat, before getting up and making for your window again. You slowly pull apart the curtains, the rings clacking against the bar much too noisily for whatever time it is now, and open the window to finally let in a cool night breeze.

The air fills your lungs and nips against the skin of your back, forcing momentary goosebumps before it all settles down and your body relaxes. You head back to bed, considering maybe the blanket you brought down on the floor with you can stay there, when your attention is snatched by a strange noise.

Your eyes drift around the room lazily, but you can't find anything out of the ordinary. Just then, you hear a faint yet distinct set of words in a singsong voice from somewhere just out of sight: “Mmm, fuck yes, daddy…”

It jolts you awake, and the thought hits you. It's dangerous and embarrassing and not at all okay, but you have to know. Just a peek.

You freeze at the window, with nowhere else to look but right at her. “Yeah, it's good, shit…” she moans, seated precariously on her gaming chair, her legs apart and on the armrests on either side of her. She covers her eyes with her hand as her tongue goes crazy, dragging around her lips whenever she's not breathing heavily or saying whatever.

Her other hand works diligently at pumping a dildo into her glistening pussy, intermittently chanting “Just like that…” it seems whenever she hits a particularly good spot and her back arches forward off of the chair.

Her breath hitches and her back arches just a tiny smidge as she comes to her high. “Mmm… mmmmfuucckkkk– fuck, fuck, yes, hngg~!” Just then her body seizes, her hips jerk slightly, and she pushes her dildo as far in as she can take. She pulls it out recklessly and it's followed by a quick stream of her squirt, then a cream flowing from the freshly fucked hole collecting on the seat of her chair.

She lays for a moment just like that, out of breath and seemingly satisfied. She licks her lips a couple more times, savoring the feeling of having just came, vying to get her breath under her control once more. Once she's satisfied, she works up the strength in her yet-weak legs to start cleaning herself up: first the tissues for her cunt, then her seat, then she wobbles over to what you assume is a bathroom to wash up.

“... Fuck. Fuck.” You realize you just watched your neighbor pleasure herself, and she has no idea. However, your guilt never surfaces, never forms, having quite enjoyed the show. You can't think of anything else; her cunt is beautiful, slick, creamy, probably sweet to the taste, and if she sounds like that with a dildo, your mind couldn't race fast enough to think of how she'd sound with your cock.

A sharp gasp rips your attention back to the window opposite, and in it you find her wide-eyed and staring right back. Her mouth hangs open and her cheeks shine a bright red, and you feel the responsibility of breaking the stalemate falls on you and you alone. But what the fuck do you say in a situation like this?

You rush for something – anything – to try and salvage the situation, just one thing to say and hopefully be able to face her tomorrow morning like nothing happened. However, your words fail you, and blank after countless blanks are drawn from your head. Panic rises in your chest, your cheeks just as red as hers, and your eye contact with her becomes almost unbearably painful.

So you break it, albeit accidentally. Your gaze floats down to her flat tummy, admiring how her waist curves like the perfect handles to grab onto while you pull her onto your cock. Even lower still, and you find her exposed pussy, clean shaven and silky smooth to the eye, and for just a moment lewd thoughts intrude your mind once again: the images of her taking her dildo flash before your eyes, leading you to think that however good she felt would be nothing she’s ever had before if you had a shot with her. Inadvertently you lick your lips at the sight of her sex, and you swallow your spit to try and get yourself under control.

You finally snap out of it, and you notice her staring back at you with a common intention. She’s biting her lip again, her head tilted ever so slightly to the right, and she grips her lap to give you a better view of her pussy lips. Or, it could just be your imagination that she’s showing herself off to you. You’re pitching a tent in your boxers, “Shit, I’m only in my boxers,” and she watches you like her beautiful round eyes are all yours. You stay there for a moment, basking in the lustfulness of the woman before you, and you can only be sure she’s doing the same.

Her eyes widen again, a different emotion this time, and she takes a panicked look behind her. A bright light enters her bedroom from somewhere you can't see from her window frame, and she hurriedly pulls the curtains shut. Your show is over now, and you’re left with nothing else to do but shut your own window and relieve yourself with the memory of the pretty girl in the next building, half-naked and checking you out.

~~~

“This is stupid,” you scold yourself, “what would I even say to her?” The question lingers in front of you as your feet bring you to the building next door. “Hi, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night.” A poorly constructed string of words for sure, but it is what it is. You toss the thought around some more, but before you know it, you're face to face with the door to the apartment of the girl who you, for lack of a better term, watched cum last night.

Two quick raps on the wood, right next to the plate inscribed with “Seo Residence,” and you close your eyes. “I'm sorry I watched you cum last night, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night,” you repeat silently. Even with your hopeful attempts to make it sound less absurd, you know it's so irredeemably bad that not even the most heart-wrenching apology would make up for it.

“Can I help you?” The sudden voice shocks your eyes open. The moment you're dreading is delayed for a few more minutes, as the girl that greets you at the door is not the girl from last night.

“Hi, Youngeun, I'm from, um, the next building,” you stutter out, “I need to talk to, uhh…” and it occurs to you that you don't even know her name. You stare at each other for a good few seconds, when it finally ends with her connecting the dots.

“Ah, you're here for Unnie,” she concludes. “Dahyun-unnie, the guy from the street fair is here to talk to you.”

“Who?”

~~~

“There’s no point in pretending. I know you saw me, and I’m okay with it– I liked it, even. Now, you either come clean and tell me what you saw, or I go around and tell people how you perved on the poor girl who accidentally left her window open on a hot night.”

You gripped at her bedsheets, your fingers just as tense as the breath caught in your throat. It was a good threat, you had to admit, and if only you weren’t on the receiving end, you’d even applaud her. Instead, she stood over you with debilitating authority and a venomous tone. Her smirk did you no favors, highlighting her alluring features, including her gaze as sharp as the edges of a ripped up tin can. She had you.

“Alright,” you surrender, holding up your palms in defeat, “I admit. All I saw was you on the chair, legs apart, dildo in your pussy. That’s all.” It only comes as an afterthought that you did technically watch her cum, but rocking the boat and adding new information unprompted seems like a dangerous move. Instead, you sit still, breath held, and wait for what she might say next.

“... Okay, I believe you. Your secret is safe today.” Hearing that, you release your breath and replace it with new air. Dahyun backs off and relaxes her arms to her sides, and fails to stifle a giggle at watching you fail to decompress. She saunters back over to her chair, the same one you watched her get off in, and crosses her legs.

Her thighs peek out from under her skirt, forcefully drawing your attention, and the pit in your stomach opens again: keep this up and she’ll have another card to play against you.

You make a feeble attempt to look her in the eye, and it works for a moment. Once you meet her gaze, you find the same mischievous smirk on her lips, still taunting or teasing you or just showcasing her amusement of the situation. The corners of her mouth curl upwards dangerously, and her eyes thin to scrutinize you as you shrink in the face of her earlier threat.

“Easy now, I said you’re safe today,” Dahyun giggles. She rests her chin on her hand, still decoding your thoughts with much more ease than you’re comfortable with; all she’s doing is looking at you and somehow you’re unraveling in front of her, getting pushed to stranger and stranger thoughts. You try in vain to find something to protect yourself against her latent mind-reading powers, but once again, nothing comes up. Your stuttering fills the silence of the room for no good reason; your handle on the situation shrinking weaker and weaker.

The only thing that takes up space in your mind is the memory of her smirking at you after her fat pussy lips were pushed apart, taking her sex toy like it was nobody's business, pleasuring herself while being vaguely aware that you were watching. It was a dangerous skill she was using against you, and for all the wrong reasons, it turns you on even more.

She suddenly rises from her chair, a hand on her hip once more, and you’re forced to give her all your attention again. She flashes an evil smile at you, one that you could never in your current clouded state ever read, and she places a light yet daunting hand on your shoulder. She inches her face closer and closer to yours, and in no time at all, you're out of space for backing away.

“I already told you I wouldn’t snitch. Why are you so nervous? What do I need to say to calm you down?” She finally takes a seat on the bed right next to you, and she less-than-gently shoves you so that you face away from her. Her fingers dance around your shoulders, finding tense spots you didn't even know were tense.

“Listen,” she whispers nearly right into your ear, “I won't tell anyone, but you have to do better than that. What exactly did you see? And what did it, erm, make you… feel?” Dahyun plants a kiss right on your nape, and then starts massaging your shoulders and back delicately. She lets out another giggle, but different this time: it's less one of manipulation and more of pure amusement.

The way she squeezes and rubs your muscles weakens your defenses even more. She expertly maneuvers her fingers, picking the flimsy locks of your psyche, toying with you like you're nothing. You're completely in the palm of her hand, and there's no way out but farther into her grasp.

“I… You're hot, Dahyun, and I wish I could've seen more,” you finally admit, just as your eyes grow weary. The calm colors of her wallpaper and the faint fragrances of her bedroom lull you into a dangerous sense of serenity. “I just thought… how good it would be,” her massage intensifies ever so slightly, coaxing out more of your confession, “to have you bouncing on my cock.”

Seemingly satisfied, the girl kisses you again on the nape, her lips lingering on the skin of your neck, and it sends shivers outwards, down your spine and across your body. Her arms come under yours and wrap around your chest, and her hands fall gently, non-threateningly, to your belt. She finds her way under your shirt, and she feels up your stomach in soft touches, as if luring you into a trap.

“I was thinking the same thing, Oppa,” she sighs, and before you notice, your belt clacks onto the floor and you hear your jeans zip open. “I thought about how a guy like you should never need to jerk himself off, especially when a volunteer is just next door.” Just like that, she's already stripped you of your pants, and you couldn't be more vulnerable. Dahyun makes her way to your ever-hardening cock, and she takes it in her hand. “Perfect… we're gonna have fun, aren't we, Oppa?”

She kneels on the floor in front of you, and she makes a show of licking and kissing all over your cock. Her plump lips meet your shaft again and again with each kiss, and every so often she takes short drags of her tongue on you to get some much-welcome spit on your cock.

“Fuck, Dahyun,” is all you could put together. Dahyun looks nothing like the type of girl that'd do this to some guy she didn't know, and yet here she is, sucking you off like it’s her sole purpose on this Earth. She shoots you a lustful look, and amongst the closing her eyes to savor your dick on her lips and tongue, she shoots you a sexy wink that nearly makes you fall in love.

In an effort to not blow your load too early, you grab her by the hair, strands tangling around your fingers and trapping you just as well as you’re trapping her. You pull her off your cock with a yank, and the sudden jerk of her head makes her choke on her own spit. She tries admonishing you, but between teary eyes and a momentarily scratchy throat, she can’t say much.

Use this to your advantage, jump at the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Stand as quick as you can, throw her onto the bed. Amidst everything, she’s unable to react, only fully grasping the situation after her last cough, when she’s laid flat on her mattress with a pillow beneath her head. Huh, who knew you had such good aim.

“Tough guy, huh? Never would’ve guessed; Youngeun sang you praises for being so sweet when she stained her shirt. Or was that your plan all along?” Despite the situation, she doesn’t try to get up or take back control. Instead, she blinks prettily at you, licks her lips, smiles a sultry smile.

“Accusing me of being a pervert, even though you started it when you watched me jack off first.” Hide the shakiness of your voice, reclaim the breath she so easily stole away. Your hands slide up her legs, from her calves to her things and finally to under her skirt. Find the garter of her underwear, tease her by slipping your fingers under. “Projecting, aren’t we?”

She lifts her hips off the bed to help you strip her, the slow rise of her ass and the clumsy reveal of her pussy lips leading you to believe maybe she’s still the one pulling the strings. Despite all this, your appetite grows as her glistening cunt comes into view, and all you can think to yourself is how much more delicious it looks up close. Ridding her of her underwear, there’s nothing else to do but to dive right in.

It doesn’t take long, not at all, before Dahyun is squirming against your tongue on her clit. She runs her fingers through your hair, settling on the back of your head. Not long at all, and it’s just a few swipes of your tongue against her sex before she holds you in place with her legs, her thighs you couldn’t get enough of earlier now like clamps preventing your escape. Your hands are firm on her hips, making sure she doesn’t get away either, and your onslaught finally begins.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be good at that–” she sighs, savoring the feeling of finally having another person get her off. She moans her love without shame; an audience through her open window is nothing compared to you right between her legs. A horrid sense of shame comes over her as she watches you watch her squirm and thrash from being eaten out: her face reddens, her lip quivers, her pussy leaks more and more to entice and keep you from leaving her forever. Never mind that she forgets that you need air to breathe; you almost agree that right now Dahyun is the only thing keeping you alive at all.

She’s starting to buck her hips, her thighs nearly crushing your head between them, her back arching to signal her impending release. Any moment now, she'll lose control and her floodgates will open; she'll threaten to drown you with her love, she'll tug at your hair and grind against your face as her orgasm overtakes her. Fight to keep her down, struggle against her thrashing to hold her hips steady. Your determination to receive the reward for all your hard work drives you: relish in the smoothness of her skin under your fingertips, savor the slick that she releases just for you.

“Mmf, fuck yes, please, oh my god, oh mmm–”

“Hnnggg– Aaahh!” Another voice interrupts Dahyun's, and her attention whips to where it came from. The door swings open behind you, or at least you hear it, as Dahyun squeezes you ever harder right as her climax arrives.

“Youngeun, what are you– Aaaaahhh!” She explodes right onto your tongue, and for a moment the world fades around you. Her nectar floods your senses with perfection you could never find anywhere else, the hauntingly succulent mix of sweetness and sin drawing out your own moans as she thrashes against her mattress. You force out more of her juices with relentless laps at her sex, while the frenzied pulling at your hair and pushing against your forehead tells you she doesn’t know what she wants past letting out everything she can.

It takes just a little while longer before she settles, and as she releases you from her legs you get a grasp of what just happened. Youngeun is unsteady at the door, a hand on the frame and the other still in her shorts. The look in her eyes is one of shock and embarrassment like you’ve never seen, and by the way Dahyun stares back, frozen and equally wide-eyed, you gather the situation at the very least isn't what they were expecting either.

Tension hangs heavy in the air, and neither of them move an inch. You're only still in the middle of recovering from having your breath taken away, but it grows more uncomfortable for you most of all. As far as you're concerned, they're stepsisters, and the younger one who thought you were sweet for helping her in the street fair just watched you eat out her elder sister and got off like some porn video.

Youngeun is the one to break the ice: “Shit, unnie, I'm sorry, I'll go! Just forget I was here–” before getting cut off herself. “Hey,” Dahyun reigns, “sit.” She motions her sister towards the gaming chair, and Youngeun, judgment clouded with fear, takes sheepish steps to approach it.

Dahyun pulls you up to her eye level, keeping hands on your cheeks, and meets your lips with hers delicately. “Mmm, bet that was just as good for you, huh?” She runs her tongue over your mouth to lap up her spent essence, and you meet her halfway, deepening the kiss.

Still, the presence recently known is now a presence impossible to ignore. Despite Dahyun’s love spreading from her lips to yours, her heat bringing your temperature up all the same, you can’t help but be wary of the girl on her gaming chair taking after her sister, legs on the armrests and fingers in her dripping cunt. Dahyun tries in vain to pull your attention back to her, only her, and how could you resist either one?

“Mm, Youngeunie,” she sings, breaking away momentarily, “behind you, on the right, top drawer, it’ll help.” She returns to the kiss as easily as drawing the curtains to show you, while off to the side you hear the shuffling friction of wood against wood as her sister pulls out the drawer.

“Unnie, this is…” she says, but the thought is lost and replaced with a prolonged moan. Dahyun slips her tongue into your mouth, grunting as she feels your cock throb against the lips of her puffy cunt, coating your shaft with her liquid heat and coaxing you into a worsening state of mind. Her pussy quivers against the underside of your cock, chipping away at your common sense, until…

Meet your forehead to hers, make sure she stays how she is. Your left hand wraps around her neck, controlling her air and keeping her still, while your right dips into her sex to draw out her slick for you. Stroke your cock at the evil you’re planning, line up your tip to her entrance, and with absolutely no warning, no mercy, no reprieve, push your head past her welcoming glistening lips and into her tight, loving pussy.

“Mmmm, fuck, shit, oh– Oh my god, oh my god!!” Dahyun’s pleasure comes in the form of unsteady grunt and weak scratches against the hand on her neck. Her face takes on a light shade of red, her forehead creases, and her tongue is only nearly starting to stick out. Her pussy squeezes around your cock like it never wants to let go, her tightness driving you crazy with how good she feels, that you maybe wouldn’t mind putting a fucking baby in her.

Your hand leaves her neck and immediately she pulls you down to kiss the bruises you almost left there. Keep pounding into her, feeling her slick all over your cock, throbbing hard and hitting her good spots while sliding in and out of her pussy like it was all yours.

The moment her fingers relax then tense in your hair, you’re given just enough freedom back to see what’s gotten her so distracted, only to find–

Youngeun slumps further back onto the chair as far as she can without falling off. Her toes curl in the air as she diligently and roughly pumps the dildo in and out of her own cunt. Her top is pulled over above her chest, and she pinches and tweaks her nipples nonstop while cupping and squeezing her tits. “Unnie, unnie, fuck, he’s so hot…” she moans, dead-set on fucking herself with her sister’s dildo to the sight of you railing her beloved unnie.

“Fuck, Youngeunie, you’re such a pervert for getting off to this…” Dahyun again lifts her back off the mattress, and you know by now what this means. Her grunts turn erratic just as quickly, her pussy clenching tighter around you, practically begging you to stay inside her.

“Hngg, unnie, h-how good is he? I bet he f-feels so big…” “He really fucking is,” she sighs, waiting for the inevitable, slowly letting her sensibilities go. Her lips crash onto yours once more, slipping you her tongue like retaking its rightful place in your mouth. The sight of it causes you to throb inside her again, and amidst the thrusts in and out of her cunt along with Youngeun's own jerking off to your side, you feel your time's drawing to a close.

Make the most of it, who knows if you'll ever get this chance again. Pull Dahyun up to sit on your lap, force her to bounce on your cock. She follows like a good girl; savoring how you feel inside her, making sure that your cock is snug and comfy between her tight, slick walls. Your hands slide under her top to grope her chest, and she lets out a sultry moan of approval at how you're handling her so well. Her nipples are taut and hard against your fingertips, and the circling around her sensitive mounds only does you favors as she gets wetter and wetter, taking your cock like a champ.

“I can't fucking take it anymore,” she grunts out loud, and in one swift motion her top leaves her body, exposing all of herself to you. Before you could even dive in yourself, she pulls you onto her chest, and as soon as you're able to, you get her nipple in between your teeth. Her boobs bounce against your face as she rides you even harder, desperately chasing her own release, seeming to forget everything and everyone else.

“Fuck, fuck!” Youngeun switches hands; poor thing must be getting tired. A quick look back over to her and you find the dildo covered with slick and cream, her pussy red and puffy, her nipples sore and just as hard as her unnie's, and her eyes near tears. A quick bout of desire to get off to the sight of her overcomes you, but Dahyun tears your attention back to her, switching to her other nipple, just as she starts grinding against your dick like she found a better spot to hit inside her.

“Unnie, I-I'm close, please, you’re so hhhhot,” the younger begs in reckless need. Her toes curl and uncurl in weary need, tears starting to streak down the sides of her faces, just as her hair sticks to her forehead at the drops of sweat only starting to form enmasse.

Dahyun pulls you away, back to her, and rests her head on your shoulder, “Oppa, I’m close too,” she says with incessant sighs and gasps, curiously in sync with her bounces on your cock, “i-indulge me, would you?” She looks at you with the same weary love, the same tired, impatient persuasion.

Steel your resolve in the face of her begging. You’re finally in a winning position, with the pretty neighbor girls in the palm of your hand. A different emotion seeps into your head, one of responsibility: to finish what you started, to make good on your promises, to show both of them a good time. Dahyun’s half-lidded eyes flutter open and shut with every suckle and bite at her breasts, while Youngeun’s thighs jiggle with every forceful jerk of her hips against her toy. They’ve had enough, and you’re reaching your limit too.

“Keep your window open, got it?” A surge of confidence laces your voice at the most unexpected time, and brings out a lustful groan from the girl on your lap. “Yes, oppa, watch me all you l-like…”

“Good girl. And you,” your attention shoots to Youngeun, who you find has her lower lip between her teeth and nearly drawing blood, “you’re fucked in the head for getting off to this, but I kind of like that.” Upon hearing it, her eyes shut as she pistons her dildo as hard and fast as she can into her pussy, screaming “Fuck, oppa, please! Watch me too!!!”

The perfect opportunity reveals itself, the strings pulled taut against both of your puppets in a cruel dance for your pleasure. A bite on Dahyun’s neck and a mind-numbingly deep thrust into her sex is the last straw to finally send her over the edge as well.

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m cumming!!!” A beautiful cry rips across her throat, and her pussy squeezes tight around your throbbing cock. Her juices flow out of her cunt generously, spraying all over your lap and the bedsheets underneath you. She buries her face into your shoulder, her teeth finding and marking flesh where her lips surround. Dahyun constricts around you, her body seizing and gripping onto you tight as her hips jerk with every stream of her girlcum that sprays out her sore cunt. Her fingers dig into your back, in no way hard enough to draw blood but only as hard as to leave marks, while her legs wrap around your waist in dire need to keep you in place and draw as much of her pleasure as she humanly can from you.

“Hngg, hahh, haaaAAAHHH!” Off to the side, Youngeun’s climax crashes over her as well, causing her toes to curl and her eyes to shut as hard as she can. She twists and turns the toy inside her pussy, hitting her good spot again and again as her cum gushes out of her in messy streams down onto the seat of her chair and floor in front of her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and her tongue hangs free from her mouth, her ass jiggles with every jerk of her hips forward, and a prolonged and mindless moan snakes its way through her throat like music to you and your partner’s ears.

After all this, Dahyun’s whimpering finally brings you over the edge too. Her weak cries are the signal of her surrender to you, and what better way to claim her than to give her what she wants? Your grip on her waist tightens, and surely your handprints will stay on her sides for her to admire and recall when she misses you, but for now you keep her still just as she does to you. One last thrust into her is all that’s left, hit her good spot one last time, and it all comes crashing down. You erupt into her pussy, filling her with a burning heat that spreads through her entire fertile body. Each spurt of cum forces another groan of love from her, and she savors the feeling of being filled with your seed like it’s what she was made for. Your forehead meets hers and you capture her lips, and more of her tiny grunts and sighs slip through as your tongues dance around each other.

Once it ends, and you feel your cum stream out of her from the sheer amount alone, you crash sideways onto her pillow with her. She stays wrapped around you, breathing heavy and looking satisfied, just like her stepsister on her chair just a few feet away. Youngeun catches you waving her over, and she takes the spot on the bed opposite her unnie to cuddle up next to you as well. Dahyun snores quietly on your left, while Youngeun snuggles your chest to your right, and with two of your pretty neighbors bare and spent thanks to you, you drift off to sleep with them knowing you’d always enjoy a show the moment you ask.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #triples smut #seo dahyun smut #seo dahyun #triples dahyun #kep1er smut #seo youngeun smut #seo youngeun #kep1er youngeun #fic box

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ataraxiaspainting · 2 months ago

Text

Blue Crow.

Yan Nobunaga x F Reader x Yan Uvogin. (College AU.)

Synopsis: Uvogin hates taking buses, but he enjoys seeing you one seat ahead of him.

Warnings: Yandere themes, non-con, the reader is described as AFAB and she/her pronouns are used, unhealthy relationships, brief mentions of drug/alcohol usage, victim blaming, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), sexual blackmail, and implied stalking.

Word Count: 5k.

somewhat inspired by the game classmates! check it out here if you'd like. <3

also inspired by @uvobreakmylegs's digging deeper! it's amazing! <3

*~*~*~*

The 5A station was the closest one to your dorm. It had no seats or shelter of any kind in case of bad weather, only a large blue sign that said Yorknew University, Nursing Program in white bold letters – because it didn’t say anything else about the buses that stopped by and because this stop is surrounded by old rotting trees, the drivers sometimes fail to notice you.

It’s raining now, and everything here is so dark – your clothes, your umbrella, the night sky, and your bag.

Your phone says the bus will be here any minute now, but will it even see you?

If not, you’ll have to find a different way to make it to Nobunaga’s place.

He seemed friendly enough. If you were a few minutes late, surely he’d understand. You were not close enough to invite him over, go inside his home, or let him drive you anywhere, though that is just how you are with all males you casually know. It’s nothing personal.

There are two bright lights a small distance away, and at the sight you raise your hand and wave.

By some miracle, the bus stops and opens its automatic doors.

You take a few steps as you close your umbrella and make your way up the stairs, being careful not to slip. You slip a few quarters into the little slot beside the driver and sit down on a seat near the window.

Taking off your hood, you ruffle your wet bangs out of your face, using your reflection to attempt to get them back to looking presentable. It doesn’t really work, but what does it matter? You’re just there to give Nobunaga some notes his friends wanted to give to him and leave.

*~*~*~*

“You’re [First], correct?” Chrollo asks, putting his right hand out towards you.

You take out your earbuds, fixing your posture as you nod. A blonde man sits next to you on the bench before Chrollo could, smiling and giggling like he is some gossiping schoolgirl.

“Dang, you’re cute!” Shalnark exclaims.

“Shal, what the hell are you doing?” Uvogin had started to stomp over. His mere size was enough to keep your eyes on him and not the others. Even the one girl who was with them didn’t draw your attention, despite her hair being unnaturally bright pink.

“Saying hi!” Shalnark put an arm around you. On instinct, you squirm a little bit, not noticing how Uvogin rolled his eyes in response to how Shalnark smirked at him. Once you were out of his loose grip, Chrollo politely cleared his throat.

“I was wondering if you could do something for us, Miss [First]. For the gang, I mean.”

The gang? From what you knew, Chrollo’s group was always causing some sort of rule-breaking but Chrollo himself stayed at the top of the class with superb grades and plenty of attention from girls. It is like no one knew they were connected. They seemed like bad news, but all of your interactions with them had been positive thus far. Did Nobunaga put in the good word for you?

“Um… sure?” As long as it was something that didn’t land you in prison or the hospital, you decide to go along with what Nobunaga’s leader asks of you. It is probably a bad idea to reject, and maybe you’ll get something good out of it in exchange.

“I’d like you to give Nobunaga some notes he missed. He’s been out. Sick, most likely.” You didn’t notice the small piles of books he was carrying until he made them closer to you, wanting you to take them. “Surely you have noticed? He talks to you a lot, I hear.”

“Yeah.” You decide to put them on your lap for the time being. The notes weren’t as heavy as they would have been if you were carrying them. “Is… he doing better?”

“Not sure,” Uvogin says, attempting to pry Shalnark off the bench. “He hasn’t been answering his phone, you see.”

“I don’t wanna!” Shalnark whines.

“Shut up, Shal. You’re gonna make us look bad in front of Nobu’s girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?

“I’m… not his girlfriend…”

They don’t seem to hear you. You’re not exactly the loudest person, after all. You have been teased for having a soft voice and having to speak up. These people wouldn’t ignore you, you think. Shalnark and Uvogin are play fighting, and Chrollo is talking to that magenta-haired woman. They wouldn’t ignore you, you’re just being too shy. They wouldn’t ignore you, they are Nobunaga’s friends. Nobunaga wouldn’t ignore you, why would they?

“I’m… not his girlfriend.”

Uvogin is the only one to give you a response after hearing it. He shoots you a confused look before continuing to tickle Shalnark. No one else seems to notice your words.

After a few more tries, you decide to give up for now. Looking at the notebooks in front of you, you decide to open the top one up. There are just standard mathematical problems as well as some doodles and words of encouragement in the vacant spaces of the looseleaf.

‘Go get them, tiger!’

‘Don’t die on me now!’

‘Remember one plus one?’

‘♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡’

At first, you think that it is Nobunaga’s girlfriend, but you shake your head to erase it. No. The gang thinks you are his girlfriend.

Perhaps Shalnark then? From the times you sat near him in your chemistry classes, his handwriting was a mess. It took some effort to realize that he was simply drawing and not paying attention to the professor in the slightest. However, his favorite things to draw were bats and computers. Would he really draw hearts and not those things so Nobunaga could know it was him?

Maybe it was an inside joke. You’re not going to ask because you don’t want your question to come off as disrespectful, though you were slightly curious.

You’ll just do what you were told and go right back home.

*~*~*~*

Shalnark texted you the address of Nobunaga’s place a few hours ago, but if you were being honest it took a while to decipher what he was saying. In between every five or so memes or videos he sent you there was a number or letter, maybe three at most if you were lucky.

You sat there with your phone in your hands for what felt like forever, not having the guts to ask Shalnark to just tell you straight up – because he wouldn’t, you know that.

From what you managed to gather from your online map, it seemed that Nobunaga’s place and Uvogin’s place were near each other, no more than a fifteen-minute walk at most. If they lived so close to each other, why didn’t one of them just visit the other? That was the third red flag you didn’t say anything about… and came to regret only half an hour later.

The electric sign attached to the entrance of the bus flickered from time to time with varying degrees of brightness. One person complained openly to the driver that the screen was so dark they did not know that they had missed their dormitory’s building. He didn’t care, only shrugging his shoulders and telling the student that ‘that’s life’. They got off murmuring curses you could hear from the middle part of the bus. Once again, he didn’t care. Like Shalnark, the driver wouldn’t take anything you say seriously; so you just used your online map to count the stops ahead.

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Aster Road, Thirds Street.” The automated message from the bus speakers loudly said, glitching a little after the word ‘Road’.

“Hey.”

You failed to notice who was behind you as you were too busy counting the stops ahead on your phone.

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Ritas Street, Wilds Complex.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Neo Road, Neon Green.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Romeos Road, Kiki Terrace.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop-”

You failed to hear the name of the stop because the hand that tapped your shoulder startled you and made you turn your neck around to the seat behind you.

You see a familiar face despite the fading light – or should you say, a familiar body.

“O-Oh… hi… Uvogin.”

Satisfied you had finally noticed him, Uvogin puts his hands behind his head as he smirks.

“Fancy seeing you so late,” he begins, looking down at your black bag. “Going to Nobu’s place, ain’tcha?”

“Yeah… you?”

“Basketball.”

Was Uvogin on the team too? If you remember correctly it was only Phinks, Feitan, and Nobunaga who were on it. Perhaps he just wanted to watch? Oh well. It’s not any of your business.

After remembering your last conversation with him yesterday, you decide to ask him why everyone thinks you are Nobunaga’s girlfriend – you only talked to him when necessary, in the classes you shared with him, but to be fair he also escorted you around the building most days.

“Listen… about that time…”

“What?” Uvogin turns his head, cupping his ear with his hand. “Speak up.”

“About Nobunaga and me…” You look down – at the books, at your cold wet hands, at the heels of your feet bouncing up and down. Your gut tells you that you’re making a mistake if you talk to him about you and Nobunaga’s relationship, or lack thereof. Your brain goes against it, saying that clearing things up will lead to less trouble down the line.

Your heart is beating too fast to accept or reject the possibility.

“Nobunaga and me…”

“You’re still talking too low,” Uvogin interrupts, his stare near-lethal to you. When you flinch at his words, his annoyance seems to disappear. “Hey, you can tell me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Yeah. Yeah, you’re friends or at least acquaintances. Saying the truth won’t hurt him and won’t hurt you. Maybe Shalnark’s teasing will go away. Maybe Chrollo won’t give you a task again. Maybe Nobunaga won’t be confused when he comes back to school.

“Nobunaga and me… aren’t dating-”

Uvogin’s expression changing wasn’t as fast as before, but his glare intensified as he stood up.

“Next stop: Nightstar Avenue, Owl’s Place.”

Your ears felt numb after you heard the ‘beep’ sound of someone pressing the stop button. Your eyes felt numb as you tried to see the details of Uvogin’s scowl in the dark.

It was Uvogin. He made the bus stop. But why?

It then hits you; this is the closest stop to Nobunaga’s place.

“Stop requested.” The speaker stated. The bus started to pull over next to a tall blue sign.

“Woah, the bus got here so quickly,” Uvogin says, going to the exit doors. When he didn’t hear you stand up too, he turned in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t know the directions to your boyfriend’s house?”

“Please exit through the rear door.” Another automated message. Uvogin presses on the door and it lets him out. After a few more seconds you follow him – your gut tells you that you must.

He helps you down with his much larger hands despite you not really needing it – there are handrails on the doors for that.

“What were you saying?” Uvogin asks. “Something about Nobunaga?”

There is a lit street lamp above the sign. It doesn’t flash like the ones near your dormitory and is much brighter. Despite the weather still being stormy, you can see houses a small distance away – not just the street.

You can see that Uvogin is smiling again.

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

“Oh?” He sneers, his smirk getting even bigger. “You didn’t want relationship advice?”

“No…” You reply, your hands going to your backpack’s zipper to make sure the notes don’t get too wet.

“Nobunaga likes mochi. Maybe you can get some for him next time. Daifuku especially. He’d be so happy, maybe he’ll stop skipping class with me.”

A sigh comes out of both of you at the same time for much different reasons.

“But I don’t want that to happen… hmm.”

*~*~*~*

The outside of Nobunaga’s house wasn’t the house that stood out the most in this neighborhood. It had rather small walls that had peeling white paint in places closer to the ground, and cigarettes and used needles were thrown all over his dead lawn. The only thing you somewhat liked was the rusty gold sign beside the front door that read 251 – and only for the styling of the numbers.

“Here’s the place,” Uvogin says, patting your back as a way to gently push you forward. “Go on, doorbell's right there.”

You were forced up the steps with a force you knew was gentle for Uvogin but not for you. A trembling finger approaches the button slowly – as if using it would make you lose it via a guillotine’s blade.

Doing so didn’t because this is reality, but the pain in your heart feels similar to such a fate anyway. After a few more seconds and the door still being closed, Uvogin knocks loudly.

“[First]’s here!” His yell almost made you cry.

Your name may as well have been the password because Nobunaga opens the door right away. He pants a little like he was running to greet you two.

“Oh fuck, you made it! I thought the storm woulda scared you away.”

Nobunaga didn’t look very sick; he wasn’t wearing a shirt, had his hair down, and only his boxers covered his lower half. He didn’t look very sick; he actually looked quite well. Those signs scared you more than Uvogin’s subtle threat – if his glaring was intended to be such, that is. You don’t step past the doorway, leaving Uvogin to stand in the rain as you take off your backpack. But when you try to undo the zipper, you feel both of their hands touching you up and down as their grins widen.

“Stop that,” You murmur, attempting to step back. Your spine was greeted by Uvogin’s front half. You feel something pressing into you. Once you figured out what it was, you started to go under one of Uvogin’s arms. His leg caged you in then.

“She’s cute, Nobu.”

Nobunaga doesn’t answer in words – he only chuckles and continues to have his hands resting on your hips.

“Listen. Your notes are here, Hazama.” You say, making an effort to still be nice, to still be understanding. You don’t want to scream because what if you’re misreading something? You don’t want anyone to… be framed for something they didn’t do, right?

“It’s Nobunaga.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Nobunaga,” You’re pushed and pulled more. Before you can blink, you’re thrown on the couch’s back. Uvogin is the one who lets go of you and the one who locks the front door, Nobunaga is too busy feeling the back of your thighs. “I’m your boyfriend – it’s normal to call each other by our first names, right?”

Boyfriend?

Was… Was he…

Was he the one who told his gang you’re dating?

“I missed you, baby.” He murmurs, leaning down and pecking your neck.

He doesn’t seem to note how you’re trembling now.

“Stop.”

Uvogin simply gets closer. He doesn’t touch you, but he crosses his arms smirking as he leans against the sofa’s frame.

“Stop,” You repeat, trying to push Nobunaga harder off of you.

It’s not an order either of them recognize, so Uvogin continues to stare and Nobunaga continues to kiss your body.

“Stop!” Your tone makes Uvogin slightly shift. He frowns and his arms uncross.

He takes a few steps towards you.

“Nobunaga.” Uvogin’s voice is cold now, like how it was when you were about to get off the bus. You freeze. Nobunaga doesn’t stop – he doesn’t even look at Uvogin. “Nobunaga.”

“Stop, Haz-”

“Watch it.” Uvogin glares at you. “It’s ‘Nobunaga’ for you.”

He’s not… He’s not going to help you?

“Yeah.” Nobunaga agrees, pulling you further into his embrace.

“Let go of me!” You snap and push harder than you did before – and manage to finally ply him off of you.

Nobunaga stares down at you. He is now still. He doesn’t blink. His smile has slightly faded, but it is still there. There are subtle movements in his hands. His fingers are curled up. They want to grab something again.

They want to grab you.

“Don’t joke around like that, princess,” Nobunaga finally says, taking a few steps too close to you. “Not many guys are willing to forgive their girl for pushing them away like that. You almost screamed my ears off.”

“I’m not joking!”

“You are.” Uvogin interrupts, stomping his feet. “You are and I am starting to get annoyed. What about you, Nobu?”

“I’m just here to give notes Lucilfer told me to give to Hazama! I’m not here for anything else.”

Nobunaga’s gaze lingers on your backpack for a few silent moments after you say that. “Really… nothing else?”

“No, she’s here to cheer you up, Nobu,” Uvogin says, attempting to give a warm smile to his best friend. “She’s… just shy.”

The glare he gives you when Nobunaga’s eyes aren’t on him makes you feel like you are about to see God.

“...Right, [First]?”

You don’t respond right away, but Nobunaga does. He giddily smiles like a child on Christmas morning.

“Oh, you!”

He hugs you – his skin feels akin to slime and his hair clings onto your neck in little bunches. You feel unbrushed knots and his heart beating fast with adrenaline. When your own heart mimics the motion, Nobunaga thinks you are simply being shy – Uvogin had once again fed his delusions.

“She brought you the notes you missed. Even wrote a few cute lines in the blank spots.” Uvogin smirks as you look at him in horror. “She wanted me to come with her. Was anxious about missing your bus stop, sweet thing.”

He walks over to your backpack and grips onto the zipper. You attempt to stop him, walking a bit forward and trying to raise your hand, but Nobunaga’s grip is too strong. Within only a few seconds, the stack of notebooks Chrollo had given you is in Uvogin’s hands. He opens a page and starts reading aloud the cute notes someone else had written.

“Go get them, tiger.”

He turns to another page.

“Don’t die on me now.”

Then another.

“Remember one plus one?”

Then another.

“A whole bunch of hearts here…”

He then turns to a section you hadn’t looked at before – the back page.

“With lots of love, your one and only girlfriend [First].”

Oh shit. Oh shit.

Did his gang set you up?

…They did. They did.

This is bad. So very bad.

“I never-”

“Stop being so shy with your boyfriend, [First].”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Nobunaga asks, slightly frowning as you protest.

You have to get out of here – fast. If you distract them enough, maybe you’ll be able to make it outside. But they’re faster than you, just better overall when it comes to physicality-

Uvogin’s hand rests on your shoulder, silencing any thoughts or ideas he does not approve of.

“I know what she wants.”

“Huh?” You and Nobunaga ask simultaneously with two distinctly different tones.

It then dawns on both of you what he means – because his shirt is tossed on the couch before you can even take a step toward the front door.

“I know what she wants.” Uvogin repeats.

He wants nothing more than to put you on your knees as he unzips his pants and as Nobunaga keeps you down. He wants nothing more than for Nobunaga afterward to have a turn – or he could go first if he wishes. One of his fingers and one of Nobunaga’s own will be forced into you after your own clothes are discarded. Two tongues will slather all over your pussy like thirsty dogs – and after a few pictures are taken you’ll stay the night with Nobunaga while he makes his way to tell Chrollo that his idea was a success.

“I really couldn’t have done it without you, boss.”

-You try to scream and Nobunaga’s hand muffles your mouth’s cries.

“Don’t go being such a brat,” Uvogin continues, “When all you really want are two bodies to love on you.”

Your arms are grabbed and you are dragged up the stairs.

In a last attempt to get out of here, your legs spread out on the stairs and kick around at Nobunaga – but the fight is short-lived because they thump so roughly with each wooden step and it hurts; Nobunaga makes a note to finally get rid of any rotten oak once you leave.

The bedroom isn’t as spacious as Uvogin had hoped. Clothes were scattered all over the place already; most Nobunaga’s but others were clearly from past flings or some of yours that he had managed to steal. Your dorm was nicer despite it being the same size as the bedroom and your bed being even smaller. But at least yours had a frame and covers.

Maybe later Uvogin will stop by to see you crying yourself to sleep and to take some trophies.

Your white panties were a favorite of his, but Uvogin wouldn’t mind a little bit of change in his collection. A few bras perhaps or a few black thongs. He hopes for whole lingerie sets, but he knows it will only happen if he is lucky that particular evening.

Uvogin sits on the bed first. He thinks about pulling on your hair to make you sit on the dirty floor, but he dismisses the idea. That would be hurting you more than he has to and Nobunaga would be upset at him inevitably having long strands on his palm.

“Hey Nobu,” He says, unzipping his pants and boxers as he quickly tugs them both down to his ankles. “Make sure she’s comfy as we do this, okay?”

It took a while for you to stop crying after that. It took a while for you to do a lot of things Uvogin and Nobunaga wanted you to do. It took a while for you to take just the tip of Uvogin’s penis. Nobunaga had told Uvogin to take it slow when you had finally clamped your lips around him.

“It’s her first time, Uvo – be gentle, okay?”

Uvogin almost laughed at the irony he managed to leave unsaid.

He didn’t want Nobunaga to get upset with all the information he had attained while stalking you for months. You were supposed to just be his little secret he pinned down once in a while, but then Nobunaga just so happened to share a few classes with you.

He fell for you too. Uvogin had never felt any negative emotion for Nobunaga ever over their years-long friendship, but the slight tinge of envy he possessed the moment he found out could almost count.

Oh well, he thinks. I still have pictures of you that he does not. Pictures I would rather not have him see and you probably don’t either.

Just for future reference in case you acted up too much, though Uvogin could always take the more physical route.

Though once again he remembers that Nobunaga is in the picture now. Though their bond is as strong as forged steel, he knows that his friend has always been a bit too controlling when it comes to what he has and loves.

Whether that be simple instant ramen or expensive bottles of brandy, Nobunaga has always had a habit of stowing his possessions away where no one can even look at them.

Uvogin understands although Nobunaga had said nothing about you being something to own. Uvogin understands because he sees how he looks at you.

It’s not disgust he feels. It’s something much less potent, but he cannot put his finger on the exact word. Machi had described it perfectly once when they were all in their mid-teenage years.

He doesn’t bother to remember right now.

You are more important.

You look prettier than he had ever seen you – precum is leaking a little from your lips as little noises come out of them too.

Please. Please.

Please.

You’re not in tears right now.

Uvogin is glad. You in makeup is nice to look at, but he knows that since it is absolutely pouring outside you didn’t want to put some on. Either for that reason or because you knew that Nobunaga was just a friend, despite what Nobunaga in return has told the Troupe. It’s cute, really.

Maybe later he can pull this when he inevitably breaks into your dorm or even in a study room in the university’s library. You’ll have makeup on when you feel like it or when he forces you to. He can ask Pakunoda about how to apply mascara and stuff. She’ll teach him. As a bonus, she won’t tease him like Shalnark does daily.

Thinking more about the idea, Uvogin makes the mistake of letting go of your face.

You cough louder than he had expected. Your spit is now all over the wooden floor Nobunaga has to clean up later. The floors are water resistant. But not waterproof. Uvogin has to remember that there is in fact a difference. Hopefully, it won’t stain and rot like the stairs did, but if it does Uvogin wouldn’t mind paying for the damages.

He wouldn’t mind paying you to keep silent about this too – or he’ll make the cops silent if it came down to it.

“Oh,” Nobunaga rubs your arched back as you squirm and saliva runs down from your clearly sore jaw. He sounds disappointed, but trying not to let it show. It’s not successful. Every person Nobunaga has ever crossed can read him like a book, not that Nobunaga knows about it. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t want to admit it. “You spat it all up. Didn’t wanna swallow it?”

You don’t respond. Uvogin is getting used to that by now. Not Nobunaga though.

“Shh… it’s okay.” Nobunaga senses your distress but thinks it is just shyness. Uvogin is getting used to that too. “It’s okay… you did such a great job.”

“Home,” You choke out. “Please… let me go home now…”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Nobunaga asks, turning his head a little. “We’re not done here.”

“Please… Please, I-”

“Shh.” Uvogin interrupts. Now it is his turn to play the good guy here. “Nobu still hasn’t had his turn, remember? Thankfully he won’t use your mouth.”

A blend of hope and fright is in your gaze. Uvogin didn’t have to get used to that one. He has seen it too many times with all sorts of people. Chrollo loves that look. Feitan loves it too. Maybe their partners’ eyes are like that as well. A ginger-haired girl avoids Chrollo like the plague and Uvogin hasn’t seen that look particularly on her. Apparently, she does in fact beg him for things. With how prideful she acts, Uvogin would pay money to see that.

“He’ll use his,” Uvogin says. He stands up, zipping his pants back to how they used to be. There are a few white stains here and there, but nothing the laundromat wouldn’t fix. “Then you can go home. Okay, princess?”

You’ll get used to this, Uvogin thought to himself. Everyone gets used to things. Even death.

332 notes · View notes

borathae · 1 year ago

Text

"You wake up in Jungkook's bed after a passionate night together."

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, domestic Fluff, hinted Smut

Warnings: casual nudity, Kookie shows off his muscles, he is a giggly cutie who just wants to be praised, they talk about last night's sex, she kisses his abs, he is so in love with her :(

Wordcount: 2k

a/n: i wanna give him the world. he is my babyboy :( also, i don't gotta mention by which live this was inspired. y'all KNOW fjadjfa. enjoy besties, i fucking love him 🤍

Something is tickling your face. Gently. Nicely. Warm. It feels warm. Fingers. You can make out the paths they draw. Over your forehead, tracing your brows, down your temples, along your cheeks and up your nose until the faintest touch feels up your closed eyelids.

You know where you are. Jungkook’s wing. You stayed with him after the two of you went on a lovely movie date in town, followed by karaoke in his living room till late into the night.

You had sex too. It was good sex. Amazing sex even. He made you see not only stars, but the entire galaxy. And in return you made him arch his back and whimper your name. It was amazing. It really, really was.

You still feel the afterglow of it. It became stronger again now that you are awake and actively take him in.

His soft scent lingers on the sheets and the warmth of his touch feels heavenly. You can’t stop your lips from curling into a sleepy smile. Quite frankly, you didn’t even try to stop them. Perhaps you even encouraged them to do so.

“Mhm good morning. That feels amazing”, you mumble.

“Good morning, my honey”, he answers you and cups your cheek to run his thumb along the tender skin under your eye. Once. Twice.

Then you open your eyes to look at him.

His face scrunches up into a giddy smile instantly. It starts off with his eyes before the rest of his face follows. You love the way he smiles. It is so precious and adorable that he always starts off with his eyes before anything else shows his happiness. It fits him so well.

You retort his smile, feeling it grow when he scoots closer to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I hope I didn’t wake you. I’ve been awake for a little and I tried not to touch you, but you’re so pretty when you sleep”, he says, making your heart flutter.

He scoots back again and touches your ear to massage it softly.

“You didn’t wake me”, you assure him, tingling at the touch.

“That’s good to hear. I hope you don’t mind that I looked at you”, he says and giggles, “I’m sorry, I just think that you’re so pretty.”

“I don’t mind”, you say and reach out to caress his naked chest, “you’re so cute, my honey.”

“Thank you, yeah”, he says and giggles. He is so cute when he is so happy. You hope that he never stops giggling. He shimmies back just enough that you can look at him comfortably. He gathers a bundle of his blanket and uses it to rest his chin on it. Like this, you have perfect view of his sculpted arms and tattoos. He didn’t bother to put on clothes last night and neither did you. He kept snuggling up to you throughout the night and whenever you noticed it, you felt yourself tingle. His skin felt like paradise against yours. It really did.

His eyes gaze at you with sparkles in them.

“How did you sleep?” he asks.

“Really well. Your bed’s so comfy.”

“Yeah? That’s good to hear”, he says and giggles once again.

“And you?”

“I slept well too, yeah. I dreamed of you.”

“You did?”

“Mh-hm. I dreamed of last night. It’s because I can’t stop thinking about it”, he giggles again, giving you the prettiest eye smile ever, “I think we had a really amazing date. I loved it a lot.”

“I loved it too”, you answer him and touch his arm to squeeze it lovingly, “you’re so cute.”

“Heh”, he lets out and blushes, “and I think that the sex was amazing”, he sounds shy all of a sudden, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You smile and agree with a nod of your head, “I can’t stop thinking about it either.”

“Do your knees still hurt?” he makes sure. You finished him off by riding him and you went at it with such passion that your knees ached afterwards.

“No, they don’t. I told you, they were just tired.”

“You did it so hard”, he says and giggles with his nose scrunching up. He snuggles the blanket, even going so far as to rub his cheek against it, “I couldn’t stop moaning.”

“I couldn’t tell at all”, you joke and snicker.

He snickers as well, nodding his head, “I know, I was so loud. I can’t help it because you’re so, so good.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m the same when you touch me.”

“Yeah, I know”, he says, glancing down at your body just once, “you sounded really sexy. I think.”

“Thank you, baby. You sounded really sexy too.”

“Yeah, I liked it”, he says, “I’ve been able to make love to you without danger for such a long time already, but I still feel so excited by it. So it always feels epic and, and”, he stops himself, glancing at you shyly, “I hope I’m not annoying you with this already.”

“Kookie, come on”, you say sternly and nudge his chest, “don’t you dare say that. I feel as excited as you do, sweets. You deserve to feel this way.”

“Thank you. It means a lot that you share those feelings with me.”

“Of course, baby. I mean it.”

He smiles and reaches out to touch your face. Your cheek, your brow and temple until he ends it with a soft brush over your lips. And as he makes sure that your face is actually as beautiful as he thinks it is, his sparkly eyes race over your features without wanting to stop. They finally land on your lips and the way they look so pretty in the morning lights.

“I uhm”, he begins and lets out a shy giggle, meeting your gaze. You retort the chuckle, caressing the inside of his wrist.

“Mhm?”

“I think you’re beautiful”, he says, making your heart flutter.

“Thank you so much”, you whisper giddily, “you’re beautiful too.”

“Thank you”, he says and sits up just a little, “hey ___? I was thinking”, he begins.

“What were you thinking?” you ask him, expecting the most profound revelation ever.

“My arms look really strong today. What do you think?” he says, showing off by flexing his arm. His muscles tense and bulge, capturing your attention.

You stifle a snicker. You did not expect for the conversation to go this way. He is such a wonderful person.

“Look at this”, he points at the most sculpted parts, “can you see the lines there and, and how big it looks there?”

“I can”, you tell him, melting in fondness. He is so adorable when he shows off because you know for a fact that he believes that this is the most impressive thing he could do. Not being loving and gentle, neither being the best listener and sweetest person ever. No, in his eyes showing off his muscles is the most impressive thing about him. Which, don’t misunderstand, is very impressive, but it is still very adorable as well because of how randomly he decided to do it.

“Can you see how strong I am?” he asks, flexing even harder.

“I can”, you reach out and touch his arm. It is rockhard, “wow, Kookie your muscles are so hard.”

“Right? It’s because I’m so strong”, he says.

“Mhm, of course you are. You’re such a strong man, this is so impressive”, you praise him, squeezing his arm gently, “wow, so strong.”

“Yeah, right?” he agrees and then sticks his head under the blanket for a second. You watch him with fondness bubbling in your tummy, “and check this out”, he says, reappearing again and tugging the blanket down his torso just enough that the first hint of his pubes gets revealed. He is resting on his back, propped up on his elbow and with his abs flexed. He runs his fingers down the lines of them, “look.”

You roll to your tummy and prop yourself up on your elbows. Like this, you could easily rest your chin on his stomach if you wanted to.

“Wow Kookie, your abs looks so strong”, you gasp.

“Right? It’s because I used them so much last night”, he says, making your chest flutter. He wasn’t lying. He did use them a lot as he was making you see galaxies.

“Mhm of course you did”, you say, “can I touch?”

“Of course.”

You reach out and trace his muscles with your fingertips. Jungkook watches you with his breathing just a little quickened. Goosebumps cover his skin wherever you touch. You finish your explorations by shimmying closer and draping your arm over his lap just so you can lower your lips to his stomach and kiss it.

Jungkook gasps when that happens, shivering like crazy. You nuzzle your nose into his faint happy trail and inhale his scent. He smells like warm nights, good sex and clean skin. It’s addictive, really, and for just a short moment you play with the desire to lick him until he shivers.

You lift your head, meeting his droopy gaze.

“My strong man”, you say, flashing him a loving grin.

Jungkook breaks into a fit of happy giggles, picking you up in his strong arms to hug you against his chest.

“Thank you ___, I’m your strong man”, he says, wiggling you from side to side.

“Yes you are”, you tell him, snaking your arm around his waist, “I feel very safe in your arms.”

“Wow really?” he gasps and giggles, “wow, thank you. This means so much to me.”

He lies down with you in his arms, which results in your finding your new resting spot sprawled halfway on top of him and with your face buried in the crook of his neck. You grunt at the impact, before a fond chuckle shakes your shoulders.

“Careful”, you tell him.

“I’m sorry”, he slips his arms from you, “did I hurt you?”

“No, you just surprised me. That’s all”, you say, climbing on top of him and sitting down on his lap. Just below his dick and with your hands feeling up his pecs. Like this, the blanket covers you until your hips while the rest of your body was exposed to the cool air. Goosebumps cover your skin instantly, but Jungkook touches don’t allow your body to feel cold. He runs his hands all over your body, leaving out the most intimate spots for respect reasons and massaging the parts which he thinks are so incredibly soft.

“My strong man, mhm?” you say.

He nods his head vigorously, pressing out a shaky, “yeah.” He is just so excited to be with you and to be your strong man! He is your man! That’s awesome!

You run your hands to his shoulders before placing them in the pillow beside his head. Like this, you can look down at his pretty face while Jungkook feels up your back and the beginning of your buttocks.

“Should we check out this café we passed last night?”

You drove by a café on your way to the cinema yesterday. Back then, it had already closed for the day, but it promised fresh breakfast everyday in the café window. You talked about going there one day and trying out the menu.

“I love this idea”, he says, “I’m really hungry already”, he tells you and adds a quick, “not that kind of hungry though, don’t worry.”

You laugh, “I wasn’t thinking that”, you assure him, pecking his lips.

Jungkook hums and hooks his arms behind your head. With one expert movement, he has your positions flipped, kissing your lips as happy purrs rumble in his chest.

“Kookie, wait”, you giggle, fighting him off with minimal effort, “the breakfast.”

“You shouldn’t have kissed me then”, he mumbles, chasing your kiss.

“It was a peck, you’re the one deepening it”, you complain with a racing heart.

“Mhm no”, he answers you, making you laugh.

“Come on, baby”, you snicker, turning your head so he is kissing your cheek instead.

“Hmpf fine”, he huffs out air, rubbing his nose against you slowly, “first shower, then breakfast, then I’ll buy you flowers and then I’ll show you what kissing me all naked gets you.”

“Sounds like a deal”, you say, feeling oh so giddy that you could burst.

2K notes · View notes

so-i-did-this-thing · 6 days ago

Note

Hello!

I wanted to ask a question, if that's okay. So, I'm genderfluid afab and feel like a man sometimes (probably more often than I allow myself to realise). I don't have access to a Binder or anything of that sort (transphobic parents).

Is there any way for me to look/be more masculine? I'm a bit scared of goggling because I don't want to accidentally take advice from Tate people or the like.

(PS. I really like your Siegfried Farnon cosplay!)

Heya!

This is a tough one to answer. Because "masculine" means different things to different people. And "passing", as well.

Like. When I wear my fleece jacket and baseball cap, I'm deliberately passing as a certain type of man. But I felt more masculine the other day wearing an ascot.

So, I think we need to break down this question:

1) If you're looking to pass, there are going to be trans masc guides out there that will direct you to a very particular gender presentation. They tend to assume you are white and skinny. They present themselves as a list of Dos and Do-Nots, and at the end of the day, do more harm than good, imo. Because passing guides are almost always about hiding parts of yourself physically, often to the expense of hiding parts of your psyche.

Seek them out if you must, but when it comes to passing for safety, all I can suggest is ambiguous layers, a hat, keeping your head down and your mouth shut. The best way to pass is to not draw attention to yourself, alas.

2) If you're looking to dress more masculine to alleviate gender dysphoria, then you need to drill down to what makes you dysphoric and start there. My smaller feet is one area of contention for me, so I look for semi-dressy shoes that look long and elegant (like Taft boots). Since you can't get a binder, consider layers, if your chest bothers you.

3) If you're looking to dress more masculine to seek gender euphoria, then figure out your aesthetic masculine ideal. Make a pinboard of Looks you enjoy and see if there are trends. Some folks are drawn to athletic wear. Work wear. Perhaps a vintage aesthetic -- Rockabilly. 90s grunge. 1940s British country vet (meeeee, lol).

Ask yourself: What are the hallmarks of this style? Are there casual and formal versions? How does it change seasonally? How much of it is clothing and how much of it is the body (haircut, being muscular, etc)? And above all - what is this style trying to communicate to others?

Once done, see what sort of fashion tips are out there for your style. Who are the fashion experts and how much do you care about their advice? (Menswear guy has great tips about how a modern suit "should" fit, but a lot of his advice is also personal preference with a big dollop of classism.)

Pay close attention to how men wear their clothes -- where they sit on the body, how they style the outfit. Compare how a man is styled in your preferred look to how a woman is styled and see what that sparks in you. How much of it is the clothing or body? How much is posture? You might discern some visual shorthand you can harness to be read as more masculine. You might also come up with ways to have plausible deniability around your parents by being able to pivot a masculine look to be more feminine, when needed.

After all this research, get yourself to a thrift shop or other second hand option and start experimenting. Buying actual men's clothing is probably going to be your best bet, but depending on your Look Book, that may not always be the case.

No one can tell you how to feel more masculine -- that really needs to come from within. Once you figure that out, then it's a matter of reconciling your ideal look with the peculiarities of your body. (And all men have their own challenges wrt the fit of clothes.)

Afford yourself as much grace as possible when it comes to your body. And again, remember that feeling more masculine and passing more masculine may not always overlap and could even be at odds. And only you can determine if and when that is a problem.

#trans stuff #ty about Siegfried - his aesthetic is one I've been chasing most my life #so he is def my personal masculine ideal and his clothes are now more than cosplay for me

335 notes · View notes

corvidcrossbow · 6 months ago

Text

~•♡•~ Intruders

➳ Summary: Getting moments to yourselves is hard when you have pets (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, anytime during 6 year timeskip or after

➳ Word count: 1.6k

➳ C/W: Half-assed oral (f!receiving) & p in v

➳ A/N: I just wanted regular casual sex smut (I'm lazy) (By lazy I mean I have like 40 drafts but I'm so busy for the next two weeks I'm going crazy) (I had to take a picture of my own damn socks for this ☠️)

Daryl's hands dragged roughly over your clothed waist, you giggling some against his lips then cheek as he hastily stumbled down the hall with you towards your bedroom, kisses moving down to your jawline as his groping descended to your ass.

“God, sunshine… yer so damn sexy,” He mused, shoving open the door and hitting his heel back against it in an attempt to get it to shut, too focused on peeling your shirt away to take note of any success: closely followed by his own. “Make me need ya so bad.”

Just as he pushed you down, landing you on your back with your legs dangling over the edge of the mattress, a brown blur bounded into the room and up onto the bed.

“Nah-, Dog-.. stop tha’!” Daryl grunted, waving his hand while the shepherd was basically stepping all over you, excitedly wagging his tail and mouth hanging open as he tried to lick your face.

“Hey buddyyy,” You purred, bringing hands to both sides of his head and rapidly scratching the fluffy fur beneath his ears, forcing him back a little so he wasn't directly in your space.

“Don’ indulge him. Want ‘em outta ‘ere!”

“You didn't close the door.” You couldn't hide your playful grin as you sat up, ruffling the dog's scruff and laughing as Daryl scoffed, clapping his hands to try and redirect Dog’s focus from you.

“I tried. Now c'mon … Dog, c'mon. Out.” He patted his back a couple times, earning a look and light cocking of his head. The man raised his eyebrows, snapping his fingers and aggressively pointing towards the exit. “Out.”

Dog turned, nearly hitting you in the face with his tail and jumping from the bed, trotting out of the room as Daryl immediately shut the door behind him. He spun back on his heels, undoing his belt as he'd been intending to before and dropping his jeans to pool on the floor.

He loomed over you, finding your lips in another kiss as he worked the button on yours and helped you wriggle out, hoisting you up the bed so your head rested on the pillows. “See? Got fur all over yer tits. Gon’ have'ah hairball lickin’ it all away.”

“I dunno, maybe you'll be a hot dry-heaver, archin’ yer back ‘n all.”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head, pressing a wet kiss to your neck that cut off your taunting giggle by drawing out a moan. His palms smoothed up the curves of your figure, reaching under and undoing the clasp of your bra before tossing it aside.

“M'tha only one who should be all over these like tha,” Daryl murmured, cupping both breasts and smothering his face between them before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and rolling the other between calloused fingertips.

“Mmm, mhm? They all yours Dixon?” You trilled, to which he gave an affirming grunt and sucked a bit harder, sliding a hand down under the hem of your panties and beginning to circle your clit.

As he was starting to set his rhythm, there was an odd scratching at the door and the sound of metal clicking, before it burst open and Dog came running right back into the room, shoving his maw into Daryl's face and driving him back as he tried to pounce on him.

“How tha hell ya-? Dog, stop.”

You were snickering at this point, propping up on your elbows to watch, Daryl leaning up and straddling you as he tried to ward the canine off. “Did you lock the door?”

He bowed his head a little, failing at obscuring his embarrassment with his hair. “Thought I did…. He'sa dog anyway! Shouldn't be openin’ damn doors..”

“He's a smart dog, baby. Don't know whatcha expect from him.”

“I expect him tah not break in ‘ere like ‘es rabid or sum'thin’,” He huffed, slouching for a moment in defeat before grabbing the dog and gently pushing him off the bed, a little harder when he resisted. “Dog. S'aint gon kill ya tah be outta tha room fer thirty minutes.”

“That's cause he knows ‘thirty minutes’ turns into two hours.” Daryl gave you a look, and you traded back an innocent but knowing smile. He begrudgingly swung his leg to have them on one side, sliding off the bed and forcing Dog with him: placing hands on either side of his chest and literally walking him out of the room, once again closing the door, and putting emphasis on the little ‘clink’ when he set the lock.

He let out an exasperated sigh, resuming his position but skipping ahead on his ministrations, having grown impatient. He hooked fingers around the band of your panties, groaning a little at the way you wiggled while he brought them down, flirtatiously biting your lip and covering your breasts.

“Don’ be actin’ like'ah tease.” He parted your legs, hands feeling over your hips and thighs while he lowered his head and drew a slow lick up your center to spread your folds, openly moaning at the taste.

“Fine. Only now cause Dog's been doin’ it for me,” You chuckled, and the archer just narrowed his brows, grasping harder at your flesh as he traced circles around your clit before lapping again and sucking it into his mouth.

“Ya always so fuckin’ wet for me, always gon’ love tha’,” Daryl hummed, tugging you flush against his mouth and delving into your enterace for a quick moment with the thrust of his tongue. Your fingers wove through the roots of his locks, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “You gon’ tell me how good it feels tah have me eat'cher perfect pussy?”

You opened to respond, but were interrupted by an obnoxiously loud whimper outside the door, left saying his name for the wrong reason: “Dar…”

“I know, jus’ ignore it,” He said, voice muffled against you, trying to hone both your attentions only on the feeling of his tongue working your core. But the malinois grew noisier, scratching at the hardwood floor and struggling to shove his nose beneath the small gap in the doorframe.

“Daryl.”

He groaned deeply, placing another kiss to your cunt before releasing his hold and unwinding his arms, going to deal with it. “Ts'aint tha kinda whinin’ I wanna be hearin’.”

Turning the handle just slightly to shoo him, Dog barged right back in again, leaped onto the bed again, and just twirled around with a clueless grin to look back at Daryl, confused with how displeased he appeared. He took steps towards the shepherd, hands out, and Dog growled just a little when he moved to rid you of him.

“Ay! Ts'ma woman! Not yers. Get tha hell outta here ‘nd quit buggin’ me,” The man snapped, Dog completely unphased as if the frustration in his tone didn't resonate at all. Daryl gave up and grumbled something under his breath, going to the top drawer of your shared dresser and retrieving a pair of his socks.

He dangled it in the air, the pup immediately locking in on it like he was hypnotized. He barked once, excitedly following as Daryl walked down the hall and threw the bundle down the stairs, which was essentially throwing them into the pits of Hell. Far too many pairs of his socks had met grim fates when Dog would steal them from the laundry, either of you finding him later surrounded by shreds of fabric. But the sacrifice was necessary.

“Lemme have sum damn privacy when Ah'm with yer ma!” He shouted down the steps as that brown flash scurried to descend them. He scoffed again and how simply Dog'd abandoned his efforts, then returned to you, closing the door and locking it once more.

“You finally get him gone?” You taunted as Daryl discarded his boxers and settled over top of you and between your legs once more, silencing your amused remarks as his mouth found yours. You latched your arms around his neck, bringing him close to deepen the kiss as he slicked the tip of his near weeping cock between your folds, edged by all the disturbances.

He waited for a few seconds, like he expected something more, then thrusted into you, head falling to your chest with a pleasure-filled exhale. He maintained the stillness, another beat passing.

“Jus’ go, angel. He's distracted,” You reassured him with a kiss to his hairline, and slowly he pulled back before rocking in again. Daryl kept a steady hand on your hip, the other propping him up by your shoulder as he began to relax, garnering speed and listening to every filthy noise your bodies made when you connected, his grunts reverberating against your collarbone.

“That's the kinda gruntin’ I wanna be hearin’.” Daryl chucked at your comment, palm leaving your curve so the pad of his thumb could press against your clit, massaging it in pace with his movements and drawing out a whine from you.

He threw his head back to clear the strands of hair from his face, looking down to watch you for a moment; watch himself disappear in and out of your walls then came near again. “Shit, ya feel so fuckin’ good…”

But then another something hopped onto the opposite side of the bed, much lighter and more sophisticated. Door was still shut, still locked.

“Sweetheart… you forgot the cat.”

Daryl didn't even glance back, rolling his eyes and muttering another curse. “Ion even care anymore.” And he just found you in another kiss.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

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fioredeciliego · 9 days ago

Text

Accidental Confessions - Karina x Fem!Reader

9k words

The auditorium hummed with anticipation as Y/N settled into her seat beside Rei, folding her arms comfortably. The room was packed with freshmen eagerly taking in their first taste of university life, but she was hardly paying attention to the introductory speeches. Her friends were all around her, immersed in their own excited chatter: Jiwon and Rei kept stealing small, affectionate glances, Yujin playfully teased a blushing Wonyoung, and Gaeul was scrolling through her phone, occasionally nudging Y/N to show her funny photos she’d saved.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at her friends' obvious happiness. It was almost laughable how quickly things had fallen into place on day one—new classes, new people, new possibilities. Still, she stayed grounded, focused on what they’d come here to do. Medicine. The program was reputed for being grueling, so keeping her head down and blending in felt like a safe plan.

But as the room began to quiet down, her attention was snagged by a shift in the crowd near the auditorium entrance. Her gaze landed on a new group making their way down the aisle, effortlessly drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the room.

Jimin led them.

Y/N had heard about Jimin from passing conversations on orientation day. A sophomore in the medical program, Jimin was known not only for her academic ability but also for her popularity on campus. She was the kind of person others naturally gravitated towards, with an air of confidence that set her apart. Jimin’s friends followed close behind, talking and laughing among themselves, but it was Jimin who seemed to capture the room with ease, even before she reached her seat.

Y/N couldn’t quite place what it was about her that held her focus. Maybe it was the smooth, unbothered way she moved, or the casual glances she tossed toward familiar faces, like she was already at home here. Her clothes were simple, yet every detail looked effortlessly put together. People had a lot to say about her—stories ranging from her perfect grades to her rumored love life—and as Y/N watched her, she could see why.

“Ah, already captivated by the upperclassmen, are we?” Gaeul’s teasing tone jolted Y/N from her thoughts. Y/N brushed it off with a shake of her head, but as she looked back, something unexpected happened.

Jimin was staring directly at her.

The gaze was cool and observant, and Y/N’s breath hitched as their eyes met. It was like being caught off guard by a flash of lightning—sudden, intense, and impossible to ignore. Y/N expected Jimin to look away, but instead, Jimin’s lips curved into a small, almost private smile, a hint of mischief lighting her expression.

Y/N’s pulse kicked up, and she felt a sudden flush creeping up her neck. A smirk? It was barely there, but the way Jimin’s gaze lingered for an extra beat before turning back to her friends left Y/N feeling as if she’d been drawn into a secret she didn’t fully understand.

“Nothing, huh?” Rei’s voice was closer, her tone knowingly playful.

Y/N scoffed, feigning a dismissive wave of her hand. “She just…looked over here,” she muttered, though her mind was racing with questions she didn’t know how to answer.

“Looked over here?” Rei raised a brow, lips quirking in amusement. “Looked over here how? Because from where I’m sitting, it looked a lot like staring.”

Gaeul, catching onto the exchange, leaned in with a smirk of her own. “Staring and smirking,” she added. “Don’t think she does that for just anyone.”

Y/N laughed it off, hoping her friends wouldn’t notice the color rising to her cheeks. “I think you’re all just bored,” she said, but she could still feel the residual warmth of Jimin’s gaze, like a phantom touch lingering on her skin. Forcing herself to turn away, she stared down at her hands, trying to will her heartbeat back to normal.

As the orientation continued, Y/N occasionally found herself glancing back in Jimin’s direction, half-convinced she was imagining things. But each time she looked, Jimin seemed completely focused on her friends, laughing at something Aeri was saying or nodding along with a calm expression as Yizhuo gestured animatedly beside her. Y/N told herself she’d imagined that whole moment, that maybe Jimin was simply lost in thought and accidentally looked her way.

But deep down, she knew that wasn’t it. Jimin’s gaze had been far too deliberate, and that subtle, knowing smirk had seemed almost…calculated, as if it was meant to leave her feeling exactly the way she did now—off-balance and uncharacteristically flustered.

“Y/N, you’re zoning out again,” Gaeul nudged her shoulder, snapping her back to the present.

“Right,” Y/N replied, blinking herself out of her thoughts and forcing herself to focus on the faculty members now introducing the semester’s course load and expectations. She tried to take in the information as the dean highlighted the program’s rigor and upcoming assignments, but her mind kept drifting back to that brief, charged moment.

She glanced back at her friends, watching as Jiwon leaned into Rei’s shoulder, and Yujin and Wonyoung shared a small smile, the kinds of looks that spoke of something unspoken and deeply mutual. Y/N had always been slightly baffled by these things—by the way some people could connect instantly, how a single look could change the whole atmosphere.

But sitting here now, with the heat of Jimin’s gaze still lingering like an invisible thread between them, she thought maybe, for the first time, she understood.

After orientation the girls decided to head out near campus to eat. The café was buzzing with the lively chatter of students, its walls lined with posters advertising clubs, study groups, and all kinds of university events. Y/N sat in the middle of the café’s cozy corner with her friends, sipping an iced coffee and feeling the weight of the day slowly lift. Jiwon and Rei were huddled together, heads close as they shared some inside joke, while Wonyoung and Yujin debated over which study group was actually useful for their biochemistry class. Gaeul, ever the people-watcher, scanned the room for familiar faces while picking at a muffin.

“So…” Y/N started, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes as she stirred her drink absently. “Did anyone…um, notice that sophomore from orientation? Jimin, I think?”

It was a casual question—at least, she hoped it sounded that way. She’d spent half the morning trying to shake off that lingering, half-dazed feeling from her brief encounter with Jimin. Maybe talking about it would somehow make it feel less…intense.

Gaeul’s head snapped around so fast Y/N thought she might get whiplash. Her friend’s eyes widened as she broke into a grin. “Oh? So you did notice her.”

Y/N tried to shrug it off, but Rei and Jiwon had already leaned in, their faces lighting up with an interest far too intense for her comfort.

“She’s cool, I guess,” Y/N said quickly, trying to sound casual. “I just thought she seemed…you know, confident. Unbothered.”

“Confident and unbothered?” Rei repeated, exchanging a sly glance with Gaeul. “And what else? Tall, dark, and mysterious?”

“She does have that vibe,” Jiwon chimed in, winking. “And someone here is clearly into it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, desperately trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. “No, I’m just saying…like, objectively, she’s cool. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Gaeul leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied Y/N with a grin. “Is that why you stared at her the whole time during orientation?”

Y/N’s mouth fell open, and she sputtered a quick defense. “I didn’t stare! You’re imagining things.”

But Gaeul was relentless, leaning in closer, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, sure, because you just ‘accidentally’ brought her up and just ‘casually’ called her cool.” She exchanged an exaggerated glance with Rei. “Do you think we should tell Y/N what the first stage of a crush looks like, or…?”

“First stage?” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though her cheeks were on fire. “Please. It’s not like that. She just…made an impression, that’s all.”

“Oh, an impression, huh?” Rei teased, putting her chin in her hands as if deeply interested. “Did it come with a smirk and a little eye contact?”

Y/N tried to hold her composure, but the way her friends were zeroing in on every detail made it nearly impossible. “You’re all ridiculous,” she mumbled, her tone a bit too defensive to be convincing.Wonyoung decided to step in, reaching across the table to give Y/N’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Alright, alright, everyone, let’s give her a break. She just thought Jimin was cool, that’s all. Right, Y/N?”

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to have someone on her side. “Yes, exactly. Thank you, Wonyoung.”

But then Wonyoung shot her a mischievous grin, shrugging her shoulders as she added, “Not that I blame you, though. If Jimin had looked at me like that, I’d probably be talking about her, too.”

Y/N’s relief melted into exasperation as Wonyoung’s words set the rest of the table off again.

Jiwon laughed, nudging Rei. “See, Wonyoung gets it. That girl had some serious energy at orientation, like she knew everyone was watching her. It was kind of impossible not to look.”

Gaeul nodded sagely, pretending to be thoughtful. “And you know, for someone who was supposedly just ‘making an observation,’ Y/N here sure remembers a lot of details about Jimin.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to ignore the traitorous grin tugging at her lips. “I swear, you’re all being so dramatic about this.”

“Hey, don’t fight it,” Wonyoung teased with a grin. “I mean, if I got that kind of attention from Jimin, I’d probably be just as starry-eyed.”

“Starry-eyed? I am not starry-eyed!” Y/N protested, but even she could tell it was a weak argument.

The group broke into laughter, and Y/N hid her face in her hands, laughing despite herself. She knew they were mostly teasing, but the way her friends looked at her—like they could see right through her act—made her wonder if maybe, deep down, there was something there. Something she hadn’t quite let herself acknowledge yet.

Rei gave her a gentle nudge, still grinning. “Just admit it. There’s a spark there, and you know it.”

Y/N peeked out from behind her hands, shaking her head as she tried to brush off their words. “It’s not like that,” she insisted, but her friends were all smiles, too entertained to believe a single word she said.

“Sure, sure,” Gaeul said, waving her off with a smirk. “Whatever you say. But remember this conversation when you’re head over heels and can’t deny it anymore.”

Y/N tried to fight back a smile but lost the battle as their laughter filled the café, mingling with the clinking cups and soft hum of music.

-- Later that week, Y/N found herself in the anatomy lab, her nerves firing on all cylinders. She and her friends had spent the last few days studying the basics, but the hands-on part of anatomy felt different—more real and, in a way, daunting. Now, under the stark fluorescent lights and surrounded by gleaming tools and models, her mind went blank as she tried to organize the instruments in front of her.

She fumbled with the scalpels, picking one up, then another, unsure if she’d even grabbed the right tool. Flipping through her notes in a mild panic, she barely noticed someone approaching until a smooth, amused voice cut through her concentration.

“Are you really going to need all five of those scalpels?”

Y/N looked up sharply, her breath catching as she met a familiar gaze. It was Jimin, standing just a few feet away with a casual ease, arms crossed as she observed Y/N’s struggle with barely concealed amusement.

“Uh…” Y/N stumbled over her words, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I, um, just wanted to… be prepared?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, her mouth tilting into a small smirk. “I see. So you’re the freshman who can’t keep her scalpels straight?”

A nervous laugh escaped Y/N as she looked down at the cluster of tools on her tray. “Guilty, I guess.”

Jimin chuckled, reaching over to pick up the one scalpel Y/N actually needed. Her fingers brushed lightly over Y/N’s as she handed it over, her eyes twinkling. “This one should do just fine, trust me. You don’t want to overdo it on your first go.”

Y/N let out an embarrassed laugh. “I thought being over-prepared was a good thing.”

“Well, maybe,” Jimin said with a playful shrug, studying Y/N. “But you seem like you’d do fine even if you were under-prepared.”

Y/N blinked, thrown off. “Thanks, I think?”

Jimin chuckled, her gaze lingering. “Y/N, right?”

Y/N nodded, surprised she even remembered her name. “Yeah. And you’re Jimin?”

“Sure am, darling” Jimin said with a smirk that seemed to linger just a second too long.

Y/N’s cheeks went pink at the casual nickname, but she tried to play it off, laughing nervously. She felt her heart stutter slightly, the weight of Jimin’s gaze and her easy confidence wrapping around her. She tried to gather herself, focusing back on the task at hand. “So, uh… do you volunteer in this lab a lot?”

Jimin shrugged, picking up a second scalpel and holding it up to the light. “I’m a second year, so I’ve been through it already. Figured I’d offer a little wisdom for the fresh meat.” She gave Y/N a pointed look. “Or maybe just the cute ones.”

Y/N blinked, thrown once again by the playful undertone in Jimin’s words. “Uh… well, I appreciate the wisdom. I’d probably be lost without it.”

Jimin smiled, looking far too pleased. “Happy to help. Though I think you’re selling yourself short,” she said, leaning a little closer with an almost conspiratorial grin. “Besides, if you get lost again, I’ll be around. Just call, and I’ll make sure you don’t get overwhelmed.”

Y/N smiled, caught off guard by the offer but genuinely grateful. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jimin leaned back, a glimmer of something unreadable in her expression, and gave a little wave before heading back to her own lab station. “Good luck, cutie,” she called over her shoulder with one last smirk.

As she disappeared into the crowd of students, Y/N felt her cheeks heat up all over again. Did she imagine the nickname? And the way Jimin’s gaze had seemed to linger just a second too long?

Y/N shook her head, trying to brush it off. It was probably nothing, just a friendly sophomore helping out a freshman… right?

But even as she went back to her work, a tiny part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was more to it than that.

The steady hum of activity in the campus library was underscored by the soft scratching of pens and the quiet turning of pages. Late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the rows of bookshelves and study tables. Y/N was nestled at a large table with her friends, surrounded by open notebooks and highlighters as they reviewed the latest lecture notes for their anatomy class. A pile of flashcards sat between her and Rei, who was currently quizzing herself with intense focus, mouthing terms under her breath.

Y/N leaned over to Gaeul, whispering, “Hey, I just realized I don’t have that anatomy reference book we need.”

Gaeul glanced up from her notes. “You mean Anatomy Essentials? Isn’t that, like, a required textbook?”

“I thought I had it! I probably left it in my dorm,” Y/N said, sighing. “And I really don’t want to walk back just to get it.”

Rei nudged her, an eyebrow raised in interest. “Couldn’t hurt to take a break, right? Maybe you’ll run into a certain helpful sophomore on the way.”

Y/N felt her face flush as she remembered her earlier conversation with Jimin in the lab, and she shot Rei a look. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Wonyoung, who had been casually eavesdropping from across the table, smiled mischievously. “I don’t see why she should. You were blushing like a tomato when you told us about it!”

“I was not!” Y/N protested, though her cheeks were already warming again.

“Oh, you were,” Gaeul chimed in, hiding her grin. “And who could blame you? Sophomore Jimin, practically a med school legend, calls you cute on day one? I’d be flustered, too.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe she’s… kind of interesting,” Y/N admitted, trying to downplay her reaction even as her friends’ knowing smiles widened.

Rei let out a satisfied sigh. “There it is. Our Y/N has a crush.”

Before Y/N could protest, Gaeul leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Tell us more about what she said. Come on, give us every detail.”

Y/N hesitated, casting a glance around to make sure nobody nearby was listening in. She couldn’t quite help herself; Jimin had left such an impression, and part of her wanted to share it. “Okay, fine. So she comes over while I’m struggling to find the right scalpel and makes this whole thing about how I’m a ‘freshman who can’t keep her scalpels straight.’ And then she, um… she started calling me cutie.”

Wonyoung raised her eyebrows. “That sounds… pretty flirty, actually.”

“Yeah, I thought so too, but…” Y/N trailed off, biting her lip. “I mean, she’s just being friendly, right?”

Rei shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. “She calls you cute, offers you help, stays in your space a bit longer than necessary, and you think it’s just friendly?”

“Sometimes I think Y/N could be oblivious even if someone put a neon sign in front of her,” Gaeul teased, her eyes twinkling. “I think Jimin was trying to make it obvious.”

Wonyoung gave a supportive pat on Y/N’s hand, though there was a teasing sparkle in her eye as well. “Hey, it’s okay, Y/N. Maybe she’s just the kind of person who’s friendly to everyone—though, from what I hear, Jimin’s a bit picky about who she gives attention to.”

Before Y/N could respond, a quiet but unmistakable voice spoke from behind her. “Hey, Y/N.”

She turned, slightly surprised to find Jimin herself standing at the end of their table, a casual smile on her face. Her friends, including Aespa members Minjeong, Aeri, and Yizhuo, were nearby, waiting by a row of bookshelves.

Jimin held a book in her hand, looking effortlessly at ease. “I overheard you mention needing Anatomy Essentials? You can borrow mine, if you want,” she offered, extending the book with a slight smile. “I already know all the material, so I won’t be needing it.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she took the book, feeling warmth seep into her cheeks. “Oh—thank you! I didn’t realize you were so close by.”

Jimin tilted her head, her smile growing just slightly. “It’s a small library, and I just happened to be in the right spot.”

Y/N’s friends, who had been quietly watching the exchange, exchanged barely concealed glances of amusement. Rei’s hand came up to her mouth, as if she were suppressing a laugh, while Wonyoung nudged Gaeul under the table, her eyes practically gleaming.

“Hey, Jimin!” Wonyoung said, breaking the silence. “Thanks for helping our girl out.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” Jimin shrugged easily, but her gaze didn’t stray far from Y/N. “Besides, it seems like she could use all the help she can get with anatomy.”

Y/N let out a nervous laugh, feeling Jimin’s words settle over her. “Yeah, I’m still getting used to it.”

Aeri, who had walked over with Jimin, joined in, smiling at Y/N with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry, we’ve all been there. Well, maybe not Jimin,” she teased, nudging her friend. “She practically breezed through first year.”

Jimin waved it off with a modest grin. “I wouldn’t say that. I had help too, now and then.”

“From your many admirers?” Minjeong chimed in with a smirk, causing Yizhuo to stifle a laugh.

Jimin shot her friends a look, though she didn’t seem bothered. “Maybe,” she said, her eyes flickering back to Y/N, “but I think they’ve got nothing on Y/N here.”

The warmth in Y/N’s cheeks intensified as her friends snickered under their breaths. Trying to keep her composure, she managed a small laugh. “Thanks, I guess?”

Jimin gave her one last, lingering smile. “You’re welcome. And, you know, I’m around if you ever need a study partner.”

Y/N’s friends practically vibrated with excitement, but she just managed to nod, heart fluttering. “I’ll… keep that in mind. Thanks again, Jimin.”

With a parting wave, Jimin walked back to her table, Minjeong and Yizhuo leaning close and whispering to her as they all glanced back at Y/N’s table, clearly entertained by the exchange. Y/N’s friends immediately turned on her, their eyes wide with delight.

“She practically offered herself up as a personal tutor,” Rei said, fanning herself. “If that’s not interest, I don’t know what is!”

“Yeah, Y/N, did you hear the part about a ‘study partner’?” Gaeul said, nudging her. “Please tell me you’re not going to let this chance go.”

Y/N was too flustered to respond, her mind replaying Jimin’s lingering gaze and that easy, confident smile. She finally managed a shrug, though her eyes were shining with excitement she couldn’t entirely hide. “She’s just being nice,” she said, almost out of habit. Yujin let’s her head fall on top of the table with a loud bang.

Wonyoung put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Y/N, we’re going to get you to realize what’s happening here. Jimin likes you, and you’re going to be the last person to figure it out if you keep brushing it off.”

Y/N laughed, unable to deny the thrill in her chest. “I’ll try to keep it in mind. I mean… it is kind of nice having someone offer to help.”

“‘Nice’?” Yujin echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, this is probably the most sought-after second-year flirting with you. ‘Nice’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Wonyoung leaned in, a soft, amused smile on her face. “And when you finally realize it, we’re all going to be right here, watching it unfold.”

Y/N felt a pang of warmth, knowing her friends were just as thrilled as she was, even if she wasn’t entirely ready to admit it to herself. As they settled back into their notes, her mind drifted to the book Jimin had handed her, the warmth of Jimin’s gaze still lingering in her memory.

“Maybe,” Y/N murmured, glancing down at the borrowed textbook, “it’s a bit more than nice.”

After an intense first week of university, Y/N felt like her brain could use a hard reset. The thought of home—the smell of her mom’s cooking, the comfort of her own bed, and maybe even a bit of Leeseo’s playful pestering—was a welcome change of pace. The train ride home was calming, a chance to breathe as campus life faded into the background, replaced by familiar sights and memories.

When Y/N finally stepped through the door, she was greeted by the smell of something delicious simmering in the kitchen. But before she could even set her bag down, a loud squeal echoed through the house.

“Y/N!” Leeseo came barreling down the hallway, a blur of energy as she threw her arms around her sister. “I thought you’d never come back! College hasn’t, like, made you too cool for us, has it?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and laughed, returning Leeseo’s hug. “Too cool for you? Never. I’ve actually missed you, believe it or not.”

“Oh, I definitely believe it,” Leeseo replied, pulling Y/N down the hall and into her room without missing a beat. “Now, spill everything. I want to know everything about college life, your friends, your classes, the parties you’re probably going to…"

Y/N chuckled, flopping onto her bed and watching Leeseo plop down beside her, eyes wide with excitement and curiosity. She knew there was no way around it. “It’s been… a lot, honestly. But good! There are great people, and the classes are intense, but I think I’m handling it. My friends and I are figuring things out together.”

Leeseo’s eyes narrowed, a playful smirk appearing on her face. “Good people, huh? Do any of those ‘good people’ happen to be… a little extra good?”

Y/N’s face warmed as she realized where this was heading. “Leeseo…”

“Ah-ha! So there is someone!” Leeseo practically squealed, bouncing on the bed. “Who is she? What’s her name? Does she have a reputation? Oh my gosh, tell me everything!”

With a resigned sigh, Y/N glanced at her sister, who looked like she was practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay, there might be… someone. Her name is Jimin. She’s a sophomore. We kind of ran into each other a couple of times this week.”

Leeseo’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes twinkling with interest. “Jimin, huh? And she’s a sophomore? Upperclassmen vibes? This sounds dangerous already.” She leaned in, as if trying to read Y/N’s thoughts.

“Leeseo, come on. It’s really not like that. She’s just… nice, I guess. Friendly.” Y/N paused, realizing how inadequate the word “friendly” sounded when describing Jimin’s smirks and teasing looks. “Maybe a little flirty.”

“Oh, I knew it!” Leeseo practically shouted, laughing with delight. “So, tell me—what does ‘a little flirty’ mean in Jimin terms?”

Y/N hesitated, memories of their last exchange flickering in her mind. “She… well, she teases me. She called me ‘darling’ instead of my name, stuff like that.”

“‘Darling’? Oh, Y/N, that’s definitely not just ‘friendly.’” Leeseo’s eyebrows knitted together, her expression shifting as she absorbed this. “Look, all I’m saying is, be careful. College sophomores, especially the popular ones… they’re not always serious, you know?”

“Oh, I don’t think she’s interested like that,” Y/N said, though a part of her was still turning over those little moments she shared with Jimin. “Besides, I barely know her. I don’t even know if she was serious.”

Leeseo sighed dramatically, but her eyes softened. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N. College girls—especially the confident ones—can be hard to read.”

Y/N smiled, nudging Leeseo’s shoulder. “You know, you sound just like mom right now.”

“Maybe. But I also know what it’s like to fall for someone’s charm.” Leeseo grinned, a tiny blush coloring her cheeks. “Actually… I have someone I’ve been meaning to tell you about.”

Y/N’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh? Do tell.”

Leeseo tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, glancing down for a second before looking back up at Y/N with a shy smile. “Her name’s Eunchae. She’s in my grade, and we’ve been… kind of seeing each other. I wanted to make sure it was real before I said anything.”

Y/N’s face lit up. “Leeseo! That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t want to jinx it.” Leeseo’s eyes shone as she spoke, and her happiness was so genuine that it made Y/N’s heart swell.

Y/N reached over, taking her sister’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m so happy for you, Leeseo. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Leeseo’s smile widened, and she looked away, embarrassed. “Well, about that… you’re actually going to meet her tonight. I invited her over.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she laughed. “Already? You’re fast, little sis.”

“Oh, stop! She’s been dying to meet you too,” Leeseo replied, tossing a pillow at her sister with a laugh. “Just… try not to embarrass me, okay?”

The doorbell rang, and Leeseo’s face instantly brightened. “That’ll be her! Be nice!”

Y/N smirked, following Leeseo to the front door. When they opened it, a girl with a bright smile and warm, expressive eyes stood on the porch, looking both eager and slightly shy. She waved at Y/N, offering a friendly smile.

“Hi! I’m Eunchae,” she said, glancing between Leeseo and Y/N.

“Hi, Eunchae! It’s nice to finally meet you,” Y/N replied warmly, giving her a quick hug. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Apparently, my sister’s got good taste.”

Eunchae laughed, her cheeks turning pink as she shot Leeseo a playful glance. “Well, I’d like to think so.”

Leeseo rolled her eyes, pulling Eunchae further into the house. “Come on, Eunchae, let’s sit down.”

As they settled in the living room, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way Leeseo and Eunchae glanced at each other, the quiet ease and joy between them. She felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering when things had felt just as simple and new.

“Alright, Y/N,” Leeseo said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. “I know I’m usually the protective one, but I’ve got one request: let me meet this Jimin someday. Just to see if she’s worth all this thinking you’re doing.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, no. It’s really not like that. She’s… just someone I met. I wouldn’t even call her a friend yet; more like an acquaintance.”

Leeseo raised an eyebrow, giving her a look of playful disbelief. “Just an acquaintance? Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about an ‘acquaintance’ this much before. Are you sure there isn’t a tiny, tiny bit more to it?”

Y/N paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know… she’s intriguing, I guess? But it’s hard to say what her intentions are. It’s all just been casual run-ins and some light teasing. I can’t even tell if she’s actually interested or just… like that with everyone.”

Leeseo tilted her head, considering this. “Hmm. Well, college girls like her can be like that sometimes—charming and mysterious but hard to read. Just be careful, okay?”

Y/N smiled, grateful for her sister’s protectiveness but feeling a bit unsure herself. “Yeah, maybe. For now, though, I’m just letting things happen. If anything comes of it, you’ll both be the first to know.”

Leeseo nodded approvingly, relaxing back into the couch. “Good answer. That’s my big sister, smart and cautious,” she said with a teasing wink.

-- The weekend had flown by, and before she knew it, Y/N was back on campus, wading through her Monday routine. Her thoughts drifted now and then to her family and Leeseo’s “little sister advice,” which had been circling in her mind like a catchy tune.

She was weaving through the common area, textbooks hugged to her chest, when she heard a familiar voice call out.

“Y/N!”

She turned to find Jimin leaning against a nearby column, a confident smile tugging at her lips. Her presence was striking, standing out even in the busy hallway. Y/N felt her pulse quicken as she managed a small smile and walked over.

“Hey, Jimin,” she greeted, trying to sound casual despite the flutter in her chest.

“Hey yourself.” Jimin’s gaze lingered, and then she tilted her head with a playful smile. “So, my friends and I are throwing a party on Friday night for students from all years. Thought I’d see if you and your friends wanted to come.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised slightly, feeling a jolt of surprise. “Oh… that sounds fun. Are you inviting… everyone?” she asked, her voice unintentionally hesitant.

Jimin chuckled, reading between the lines. “Not everyone,” she replied smoothly, eyes glinting. “Just the people who seem like they might be able to keep up.”

“Oh,” Y/N managed, feeling a little flustered. “Well, yeah, I think we could do that.”

“Perfect.” Jimin’s smile deepened, as if satisfied with Y/N’s answer. “It’s at the usual spot near the student center. Starts around eight, but feel free to come fashionably late,” she added with a wink. “Oh, and don’t forget to dress up. It’s not every day we get a chance to look our best, right?”

Y/N laughed nervously, trying to match Jimin’s relaxed confidence. “Got it. I’ll let everyone know.”

“Great,” Jimin said, her eyes lingering on Y/N for a beat longer than necessary. “Looking forward to seeing you there.”

With one last smile, Jimin turned and strolled down the hall, leaving Y/N standing there, trying to piece together what had just happened. Did Jimin really mean it for her specifically, or was this just an invitation in passing?

As soon as Jimin disappeared around the corner, Y/N’s thoughts snapped back to her friends. She quickly sent a text to let them know about the party, her fingers slightly shaky on the screen.

That evening, Y/N and the rest of the group met up at their usual café. The excitement in the air was almost palpable, as if the invitation itself was a sign of something bigger.

Wonyoung’s eyes sparkled as she read Y/N’s text out loud to the group for the third time. “She said just the people who seem like they can keep up. Y/N, if that doesn’t sound like an invitation meant for you, I don’t know what does.”

“Seriously, Y/N,” Rei chimed in, grinning widely. “Do you know how rare it is to get invited by Jimin herself? And not just invited—she wants you to dress up.”

“Maybe she just wants everyone to look nice,” Y/N mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up. “She probably said that to everyone she invited.”

“Or she’s making sure you show up looking extra cute,” Gaeul teased, nudging her playfully. “I don’t know why you’re overthinking this.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to hide her grin. “You guys are getting ahead of yourselves. It’s just a party. No big deal.”

“Sure,” Wonyoung said, smirking. “It’s not a big deal that Jimin invited you to her party and made a point of wanting you to look nice. No big deal at all.”

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “I just don’t want to assume anything. She’s probably just being friendly.”

“Or flirty,” Yujin interjected with a smirk, sharing a look with Wonyoung. “Just admit it, Y/N—you’re a little bit curious about her.”

Y/N hesitated, trying to find a way out of admitting anything. But her friends weren’t having it.

Rei leaned over, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Come on, Y/N. It’s a party. You’ll get to know Jimin better, and besides, it’s the perfect excuse to look amazing.”

“Fine, I’ll dress up,” Y/N relented with a sigh, fighting a smile. “But I’m only doing it so you guys stop giving me such a hard time.”

The group cheered, sharing ideas about what she could wear, swapping makeup tips, and even planning out the details down to Y/N’s shoes.

The night of the party arrived, and the lively hum of music and laughter filled the air long before Y/N and her friends stepped into the house. She felt a blend of excitement and nerves, her friends’ confidence pushing her forward even as she wondered what tonight might bring.

Y/N had gone all out for the occasion. Her dress, a short, fitted number in a striking midnight blue, hugged her in all the right places, shimmering subtly in the lights as she moved. She’d kept her accessories minimal—a delicate necklace and earrings that caught the light whenever she turned her head—but it was enough to make her feel special. Her friends hadn’t stopped admiring her look since they’d met up to head over.

As Y/N stepped through the threshold, she immediately felt the warmth of the party envelop her. The air was thick with the scent of snacks and the sound of music pulsing through the crowd. People were scattered around the living room, chatting, laughing, and dancing, and the atmosphere was electric with energy.

Spotting Jimin across the room, Y/N's heart skipped a beat. Jimin looked effortlessly cool as ever, dressed down in oversized, light-wash jeans that draped over her chunky white sneakers, paired with a simple black cropped tank top that showcased her toned midriff. Her dark hair was styled in loose waves, framing her face and giving her a carefree, yet put-together appearance. The way she moved through the crowd exuded confidence, and Y/N found herself momentarily mesmerized.

It wasn’t long after she arrived that Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Jimin, whose relaxed smile sent a small shiver down her spine.

"Hey, glad you could make it,” Jimin said, her voice smooth and warm as she held Y/N’s gaze, the corners of her mouth tilting up slightly.

Y/N’s heartbeat quickened. “Yeah, thanks for inviting me,” she replied, trying to keep her cool.

Jimin’s eyes flicked over her, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than expected. “Looks like you took my advice on dressing up,” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “Not that I’m surprised. You look… really nice.”

Heat rose in Y/N’s cheeks, and she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, laughing softly. “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself,” she replied, hoping her voice didn’t betray how flustered she was.

Jimin chuckled, lifting two drinks from a nearby table and handing one to Y/N. “You know,” she started, leaning in a little closer so her voice wouldn’t get lost in the music, “there’s someone interesting I’ve noticed in the freshman class.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked, sipping her drink to disguise the nervous smile threatening to break out. “Who’s that?”

Jimin’s gaze softened, a playful glint dancing in her eyes. “Just someone who… caught my eye,” she replied, her voice casual but her expression intriguing. “Smart, funny, kind of oblivious sometimes.”

Y/N’s heart did a small leap, but she shrugged, taking Jimin’s words at face value. “That’s nice,” she said, assuming it was probably just friendly conversation. “Freshman class is full of interesting people.”

Jimin’s eyes softened with a hint of exasperation, her lips tilting up into a smirk. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she replied, giving Y/N a playful nudge. “But I think this one is a little more interesting than the rest. You should get to know her better.”

“Maybe,” Y/N replied, a hint of teasing in her voice. “But I’m not so sure she’d want to get to know me.”

“Oh, I think she would,” Jimin said, her tone flirtatious as she leaned closer, her warm breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. “After all, who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?”

Y/N laughed nervously, the compliment making her cheeks flush. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” Jimin said, her smile brightening. “You’re pretty unforgettable.”

Just then, a loud cheer erupted from the crowd nearby, breaking the moment. Jimin’s attention momentarily shifted, and Y/N seized the chance to collect herself.

“Want me to get us some drinks?” Jimin asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Sure! I could use one,” Y/N replied, trying to play it cool, even as her heart raced.

“Alright, don’t go anywhere!” Jimin winked before she turned and weaved her way through the bustling crowd. Y/N watched her go, feeling a flutter in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain.

Minutes passed, and Y/N found herself glancing toward the kitchen, expecting Jimin to reappear at any moment. But as the seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, unease began to settle in. What’s taking so long?

Five minutes had come and gone, and still no sign of Jimin. Y/N took a sip of her drink, trying to shake off the nagging worry. It was a party, after all; it wasn’t unusual for people to get distracted. Yet, the more she waited, the more anxious she became.

Finally, unable to quell her curiosity any longer, Y/N decided to check on Jimin. She pushed through the throng of bodies, her heart pounding as she made her way toward the kitchen area. As she approached, she caught sight of Jimin standing near the counter, but her heart dropped as she noticed she was not alone.

Jimin was leaning in close to another freshman girl, their heads nearly touching as they laughed at something shared between them. The scene struck Y/N like a cold wave, the warmth of the party around her fading into a dull roar.

Jimin’s relaxed demeanor and the way she tilted her head back in laughter sent a sharp pang of jealousy through Y/N. She couldn’t help but feel small and unimportant, an outsider watching from the sidelines. The easy chemistry between Jimin and the other girl was undeniable, and Y/N felt a familiar sting in her chest that she had hoped to avoid tonight.

With her heart racing and a knot tightening in her stomach, Y/N turned away, trying to push the unwanted thoughts from her mind. You’ve known her for a week, get ahold of yourself she reminded herself, but the thought felt hollow. She couldn’t deny that a part of her was disappointed, despite knowing Jimin had every right to talk to whomever she pleased.

Y/N made her way back to the dance floor, seeking solace in the vibrant energy of her friends. As she approached, Wonyoung and Yujin were still dancing, their laughter infectious, but Y/N felt out of place.

“Y/N! There you are!” Wonyoung exclaimed, pulling her into a quick spin. “We were wondering where you went! Gaeul is getting some drinks and I think Rei and Jiwon are in the bathroom, doing god knows what”

Y/N forced a smile, trying to shake off the earlier encounter. “Just checking on Jimin,” she said, her voice casual despite the turmoil inside. “She’s... busy.”

“Busy how?” Yujin asked, arching an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

Y/N shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just talking to someone else. No big deal.”

Wonyoung looked at her knowingly. “Oh, you mean that girl over there?” She pointed to the corner where Jimin was still chatting with the other freshman. “Looks like they’re having fun.”

Y/N’s heart sank a little further. “Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, feeling a wave of frustration wash over her. “It’s whatever.”

Yujin exchanged a glance with Wonyoung,

“Forget about her!” Yujin encouraged, her tone lightening as she grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Come dance with us! You’re here to have fun, remember?”

Y/N sighed but knew they were right. She had come to enjoy herself, and standing off to the side worrying about Jimin was not going to change anything. So, with a reluctant nod, she allowed her friends to pull her into the lively crowd, the pulsating music drowning out the worries that still swirled in her mind.

The bass pulsed through the dance floor as Y/N moved to the beat, slowly letting the music drown out her unease. She let herself get lost in the rhythm, and for a moment, she even forgot about Jimin chatting away with that other girl.

“Mind if I join you?” Yunjin’s voice broke through her thoughts, bright and full of confidence. She flashed a smile as Y/N blinked in surprise. Before Y/N could even respond, Yunjin had closed the gap between them, her hands finding a comfortable spot on Y/N’s waist as they started to move together.

Encouraged by Wonyoung and Yujin’s excited cheers, Y/N allowed herself to relax, finding herself caught up in the moment. Yunjin’s playful energy was contagious, and soon enough, they were laughing and dancing like they’d known each other for ages. With every playful flirt Yunjin tossed her way, Y/N felt herself blushing, but she leaned into it, glad for the distraction.

That’s when she felt it—someone watching them. She turned, catching sight of Jimin across the room, her gaze fixed and sharp. Jimin’s usual cool, laid-back demeanor was gone, replaced by something else entirely. Her jaw was set, her arms crossed as she watched Yunjin’s hands slide down to rest on Y/N’s hips, their bodies swaying closer than before.

Jimin pushed through the crowd, her eyes narrowing as she approached. By the time she reached them, Yunjin’s arm was draped over Y/N’s shoulder, and Y/N’s laugh had grown into a carefree smile. But as Jimin stepped right in front of them, Y/N felt the tension spark in the air.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin said, her tone measured, but her eyes betrayed a hint of irritation. “Been looking all over for you.”

Y/N hesitated, feeling the tension settle in her stomach. “Oh, um… didn’t mean to make you worry,” she replied, offering a small smile.

But Yunjin, still holding her close, wasn’t about to back down. “You’ve only known her for what, a week? I’m sure she was fine without you, Jimin,” she said with a smirk, her voice laced with a bit too much confidence.

Jimin’s eyes flicked to Yunjin, her gaze hardening. “You’d be surprised,” she replied, her tone calm but edged with something that made Y/N’s pulse quicken. “We’ve actually gotten to know each other pretty well.”

“Oh yeah?” Yunjin shot back, raising an eyebrow as she held Y/N a little tighter. “Well, looks like I’m getting to know her pretty well too.”

The tension between them was palpable, and Y/N felt herself caught right in the middle of it. She looked from Yunjin to Jimin, her heart hammering as the two seemed locked in a silent battle.

Jimin’s gaze never left Yunjin’s as she took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “I think Y/N can speak for herself,” she said coolly, looking at Y/N with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “Don’t you, Y/N?”

Y/N swallowed, feeling the weight of their gazes on her. She was painfully aware of Yunjin’s arm around her and the way Jimin’s eyes held hers with a mix of challenge and something else she couldn’t quite place. “I… um… I was just… dancing,” she stammered, her voice barely audible over the music.

Jimin’s lips tilted into a smirk as if she’d won some unspoken argument. She reached out, gently brushing her fingers along Y/N’s arm, her touch warm and grounding. “Mind if I steal you back?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with something that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

Yunjin scoffed, still unwilling to give in. “You know, Jimin, if you wanted a dance, you could’ve just asked,” she said, challenging. “But it seems like Y/N was having a good time without you.”

Jimin’s eyes darkened, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you,” she replied, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a smile that held no warmth.

Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she realized just how intense the moment had become. Her friends had started to gather around, sensing the tension, and she could feel their curious gaze on her. Aeri, Minjeong and Yizhuo had also appeared beside Jimin, each watching the interaction with barely concealed interest.

“Everything alright here?” Aeri asked, her eyes darting between Jimin, Yunjin, and Y/N.

Y/N cleared her throat, suddenly feeling exposed under the watchful eyes of their friends. “Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” she said, giving a nervous laugh as she tried to defuse the tension. “Just… dancing.”

But Jimin’s gaze softened as she looked at her, and a flicker of something vulnerable appeared in her eyes, as if she were silently asking Y/N to choose her. “Y/N,” she said softly, reaching for her hand, “can we talk?”

Yunjin opened her mouth to protest, but Y/N, feeling overwhelmed, gently stepped back from both of them, her heart pounding. “Actually, I think I need some air,” she said quickly, her voice shaky. Without another word, she slipped out of their grasp and wove her way through the crowd, feeling the weight of their gazes on her as she hurried toward the exit.

The cool night air hit her as she stepped outside, her heart racing as she put more distance between herself and the party. Her phone buzzed repeatedly in her hand, and a quick glance revealed several messages from Jimin, each one growing more urgent, and a few from Yunjin as well. But she didn’t have it in her to respond.

She kept walking, her steps quickening until she was finally back at the quiet solace of her dorm. Once inside, she leaned against the door, letting out a long, shaky breath. Ignoring the continuous buzz of her phone, she only replied to a single message—Gaeul’s, who had texted to check in.

I’m safe. Just needed to get away. I’ll see you tomorrow, she typed before shutting off her phone and sinking onto her bed.

Hahaha, fuck.

Y/N screamed into her pillow. --

Y/N lay sprawled out on her bed, staring at her phone. Last night kept replaying in her mind. And all her other interactions with Jimin.

What am I doing? she thought. Why am I even overthinking this? Maybe Jimin was just being friendly, maybe that’s all it was. She’d probably done all those sweet things to dozens of freshmen before. Y/N felt a pang of embarrassment at how easily she’d gotten swept up by it all.

She decided to text her friends and turned on her phone.

Her phone buzzing woke her up of her 10 minute nap.

There is no motherfucking way.

Y/N couldn’t even send her final message before she heard a knock on the door. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Taking a deep breath, she scrambled to check her reflection in the small mirror by the door, smoothing down her hair and pulling herself together. Okay, just act natural. Pretend it’s no big deal. But her hands shook as she finally opened the door.

There stood Jimin, looking effortlessly cool as always, with a casual hoodie and that soft, knowing smile that never failed to make Y/N’s heart flutter. She held up her phone, her gaze flickering between Y/N and the screen. “I believe I got a text meant for someone else?” Her tone was playful, but there was something in her eyes—a glint of curiosity, maybe even amusement.

Heat rushed to Y/N’s face. “Wel! You see!!” She forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt. “That—that was not for you, obviously. Fuck, I am so sorry-”

Jimin let out a soft laugh, stepping into the room as Y/N shut the door. “It’s okay. Really,” she said, putting her phone away as she looked around the dorm. “I mean, I was a little…surprised, but also—” Her gaze softened, the smile turning sincere. “—I’m kind of glad I got it. Now I know I’m not the only one who’s been feeling something.”

“Hahaha, yeah, of course.” Y/N nodded. Then she blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jimin laughed. “You really are adorable.” She smiled. “I just mean…well, I’ve noticed you, too. I’ve noticed that it’s different, with you.” She paused, as if choosing her words carefully, her eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “And that’s not something I get to feel very often.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, and she immediately looked down at her feet, a flustered laugh bubbling out. “Oh, well, um…” She bit her lip, struggling to form a coherent response. “I didn’t, uh, mean for you to…find out. Like, that. But, um…yeah, that’s…wow. Cool. That’s cool.”

Cool? There is no way brother.

Jimin let out a chuckle, and somehow that made it worse. “Tell you what,” she said, her tone as easygoing as ever. “Why don’t we grab a coffee this weekend? We can pretend I didn’t read that text, and maybe you can tell me more of what’s on your mind. Sounds fair?”

Y/N’s brain struggled to keep up. Coffee? She nodded so enthusiastically she probably looked like a bobblehead. “Yes! I mean, yes, sure, I’m down, sounds nice.”

I need to shut THE FUCK up.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she reached out, giving Y/N’s shoulder a playful nudge. “Relax,” she murmured, her voice soft. “It’s just coffee. No pressure.”

“Right, right, of course,” Y/N stammered, even as her heart pounded against her ribs. “Just…coffee.”

With a warm smile, Jimin lingered for a second, her gaze drifting from Y/N’s eyes to her lips and back up again. The air between them felt charged. Then, almost instinctively, Jimin leaned in, her hand finding Y/N’s waist.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart hammering in her chest as Jimin’s face moved closer. She could feel Jimin’s warmth, her soft breath fanning across her skin, and before she could think twice, their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was soft, tentative—yet filled with a warmth that sent a thrill through her entire body.

When they pulled back, Y/N was too stunned to do anything but stare at Jimin, her cheeks flushed and her mind racing. Jimin’s smile turned a little shyer, her thumb brushing lightly over Y/N’s hip before she took a small step back.

“I’ll text you the details,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling as she gave a little wave. With one last look, she disappeared down the hall, leaving Y/N breathless.

As soon as the door shut, Y/N sank onto her bed, covering her burning face with her hands.

She screeched.

208 notes · View notes

another-lost-mc · 1 year ago

Note

Got any thots/ideas in wing kink for Luci, Simeon, or anyone with wings?

a/n: there's a few different types of wings among the cast, but I think they're all unique and worth talking about!

wing headcanons

featuring: lucifer, mammon, asmodeus, beelzebub, diavolo, simeon, raphael, michael (and any oc with wings)

0.7k words | nsfw | suggestive

cw: wing kink implied. sexual situations and predator/prey kink mentioned. the predator/prey kink section is after the divider if you prefer not to read that part.

One of the first signs of trust is the casual affection he shows you when his wings are revealed. He might not always reach for your hand in public, especially if he's a bit more reserved by nature. However, what you do feel is the soft sensation of his wing brushing against your side when you walk beside him. He doesn't even mean to do it at first. It's like his wing naturally extends itself to curl around your back or glide against your arm. It's an unconscious gesture motivated by his feelings for you.

He might ask you to help with his wing care next. If he has wings made of feathers, he sits patiently while you preen them. You're especially careful when you straighten the feathers that look stuck out of place. Your hands are coated with a special oil that keeps his wings soft and protected from harsh wind and cool rain. It's a ritual for both of you now, one that often leads to grateful kisses and quickly descends into passionate lovemaking. Preening his wings was something he didn't enjoy doing by himself, or he reluctantly asked others to help him. Now that he has you, he craves the intimacy of it.

Leathery wings don't require the same level of care, but your lover is still grateful when you try to make him feel pampered and cared for. Sometimes stroking the edge of his wings feels ticklish. Sometimes it sends little bolts of desire shooting through his body straight to his cock. You never know whether he's going to laugh and squirm away from your hands, or if he's going to spin around and pin you underneath him.

Beelzebub's wings are thin and extremely sensitive, and he doesn't like it when they're touched. You are a rare exception. He trusts that you won't hurt the delicate wings that sit against his back. It feels nice when you gently run your fingers along the very edges. He rewards your gentleness and understanding with hungry kisses and greedy hands that rid you of all your annoying clothes.

As the crown prince, Diavolo's wings are particularly impressive and adorned with precious gold ornaments. He secretly likes it when you tease him about keeping the gilded gold pieces clean while you polish them to a glimmering shine. For special occasions, he'll even change them to a different metal that suits your preferences better—he wants to look his best for you. Don't be surprised when he offers you gifts of jewelry made with the same precious metals and jewels that match his own. He would love to see you wear them—and only them—the next time he invites you to spend the night.

Most of the time, fucking someone in his true form can be clumsy or awkward. He doesn't just let anyone touch their wings so intimately either. When you're intimate, he might purposefully reveal his wings. His wings wrap around your body and draw you close while he shields you from the world, protecting you when you're naked and vulnerable. (It also hides you from unworthy eyes that don't deserve to see you that way.) Sometimes his wings randomly appear in the height of passion, unfurling at his back when pleasure drives away all thought and reason except the singular desire to touch you. When his mind isn't clouded with lust, he looks a bit bashful that he lost control like that to begin with—it only happens when he's with you.

Another possibility is a little bit of predator/prey roleplay. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to be hunted? Your winged lover is more than happy to indulge in this kink should you ask. The forests of the Devildom (or the human world) are perfect for this. He leads you there and urges you towards the tree line in front of you. He'll even give you a head start.

(You're going to need it.)

It begins when you finally run into the darkened woods with only glimpses of moonlight to illuminate your path. The smallest sounds are impossibly loud, echoing off the trees around you: a snapping twig, the crunch of fallen leaves under your feet, your own ragged, panted breaths. Sometimes you see movement from the corner of your eye and when you turn around, there's nothing there. What you do notice is the tree branch high above you shaking slightly, as if someone was just there and then launched himself back into the sky.

(He's toying with you.)

Adrenaline gives you one last burst of energy that propels your feet forward, and you keep running despite the burning in your lungs. The blood in your veins is laced with lust and fear in equal measure. It's not long before you finally hear it: the sound of wings slicing through the air and growing louder as he draws near. Do you hear the soft swish of feathers? The taut snap of leathery wings billowing against the wind? Or perhaps it's the bzzzt of wings fluttering rapidly at his back that quickens your pulse? Suddenly, his familiar silhouette looms above you and blocks the moon from view. You're pinned against his chest before you realize what's happening, and his arms (and sometimes wings) curl around your body. Greedy hands start to pull at your clothes as he crushes his lips against yours. The game is over, and you're finally his to claim.