#something something i love drawing curves on a person

[kaisollisto]

[starryknight565]

OUGH THIS ONE HAS A LITTLE KICK TO IT

imagine being a shy little intern at jujutsu high and getting the fattest crush on gojo because he’s just. so strong and cool. you idolize him. you want to be his friend. and he seems to take a liking to you; he’s cheery and encouraging and sweet in a roundabout way. you feel like you’ve grown pretty close to him.

imagine him falling asleep right next to you on a sofa in the cafeteria. you can barely tell, with his blindfold still on. but you scurry away to find a blanket, happy that he trusts you enough to rest in your proximity, ready to wrap it around him —

only for it to slip right off. rejected by his infinity.

(he never turns it off, around you.)

[seventeenpins]

nightly

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader word count: 1k summary: Joel is a mistake you just keep making. content/warnings: no specified Joel era so take your pick, dirty talk, literally all just smut, big dick, daddy kink, breeding kink, dubcon undertones, Joel is an asshole a/n: I have been struggling to focus on writing for a minute now, but the horny gods smiled upon me and let me get this together. Praise be to @ozarkthedog for always letting me run my godforsaken ideas past you. Love you lots 💕

You can feel the wet spot on the bed against your back. Joel has you folded like a pretzel, backs of your knees resting on his sun-freckled shoulders, wrists pinned above your head and ass suspended in the air as he drills into you. A single curl bounces at his temple, separate from the rest of his hair that's plastered with sweat to his forehead.

If you make the same mistake five days in a row, can you really still call it a mistake?

He's far too old for you, and a little too mean for you, but damned if he isn't the best lay you've ever had.

Eight inches, uncut, a dick so fucking fat you can barely wrap your hand around it. You can hardly believe he's buried balls deep in you right now. That your body can even take it.

"C'mon, honey, that's it-" Joel's voice is a growl, punctuated by heavy panting, "This pretty lil gash is fuckin' droolin' baby, my own personal slip 'n slide-"

"You're a crass old man," you whine.

"I sure am, honey," he agrees with a grin, "But don't think I can't feel the way you soak me whenever I talk crass, sweetheart."

"I hate you."

He laughs, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple and along the curve of his nose, splashing onto your cheek. Unthinkingly, you dart your tongue out to catch some of the sweat. Joel's grin turns to a smirk.

"Hate me all you like. You're the one who's come over every night this fuckin' week. Monday through Friday, baby. Hate me so much you can't get enough of daddy's big dick, huh?"

"Fuck you, you're such an asshole-"

This jab is even less effective, punctuated with a moan and a whimper.

"Sure, sweetheart, I am. But don't pretend like we don't both know--you don't have to come here at all."

He grinds against you, coarse hair rubbing against your mound as if to further his point. Pressure hits your clit just right and it's bliss. You have to fully restrain yourself to stop from howling, and even then, you let out a ragged moan.

Joel clamps a hand over your mouth and looks you dead in the eyes.

"I love those pretty sounds, baby, but remember I got neighbors? Thought you said you'd die before anyone finds out about us."

You try to roll your eyes, but he thrusts again and you're caught in another moan. The glide of his body against your clit, especially when he's stretching you out so exquisitely? It's overwhelming. You try to stay quiet, you really do.

It's not your fault though, not when Joel's fucking you silly.

Now, though, he's frustrated.

"Quiet now, settle-"

"I'm not a fucking dog, Joel, I- ahhh-" you mumble and moan between his fingers, barely muffled at all.

"Oh really? Not a fucking dog? Wanna tell me then why you're tryna get bred like a bitch in heat?"

He smacks your cheek, drawing out another pathetic whine that only seems to cement his point.

He sneers. "Those pretty lil noises you're makin' for me? That don't sound like a good girl. That sounds to me like a nasty fuckin' slut who can't help but keep her legs spread so her daddy can fill her up good. Huh? C'mon baby. Tell me to cum inside."

"Fuck you Joel."

Suddenly, cruelly, he stops. Ceases any movement. Relaxes the grip on your wrists.

Panic overtakes you.

"What the fuck-?"

"Sorry sweetheart," he shakes his head, "You don't want this? You can see yourself out."

"No, I-"

You notice he's still sheathed inside you. You feel him do something, flexing his dick inside of you. Frankly, it's cheating.

"Please don't stop."

"What was that, honey?"

"Joooeeel-"

"Quit your whinin', use your words."

"Please fuck me."

"That ain't it, you know whatcha gotta say."

He starts rocking his hips gently, a slippery glide. It's not enough to stimulate. Just enough to make you want more. Need more.

The way you clench around him tells on yourself more starkly than your words ever could.

He's grinning again. "That's it, baby. You ready to admit what you need?"

"Come on, Joel."

"Cum where?"

You sigh. But you know you aren't gonna hold out any longer. He's pressing his thumb just above your clit and the glide of the motion is so fucking delicious it's hard not to buck against it.

Rut against it.

A bitch in heat.

"Fuck me, daddy-" you whine.

"You sound real pretty beggin'. Nearly got it honey. One more try?"

"Cum inside me."

"Mmmmm-" Joel groans, and the grip on your wrists tightens again. "Music to my ears, honey. Tell me where you want it?"

"Inside me, cum inside-"

"You want me to cum inside this lovely lil' pussy?"

"Please Joel-"

"That right?"

"Please cum in me, fill me up, fuck it deep-"

With that, his composure breaks and any restraint he had crumbles. Folds you deeper, fucks you deeper, pins you down and jackhammers into you.

You couldn't move, even if you wanted to, and that knowledge somehow heightens everything. It's blindingly bright, dizzyingly addictive. You barely notice the way Joel's lavishing you with praise, each deep thrust punctuated with good girl, good girl, good fucking girl-

When you cum, you feel the way his balls tighten as if in response, tipping over the edge mere moments after you. It could be romantic, finding yourselves cumming together, if there was any romance between you.

As you start to fade back down, you're able to pay attention again.

"That's it," he's praising you, and you realise his cock is still pulsing. You make to start moving, but he growls and holds you still. "That's right, sweetheart. Gotta let me fill you all the way up. Gonna make sure it takes."

Clarity starts to overtake you and you know that you've made a big fucking mistake. By the time you've come back to yourself, though, your pussy's flooded and pulsing oh so nicely, and Joel's pulling out of you. He moves into the other room and you hear him turn on the shower.

"You can let yourself out," he calls to you. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Your panties are sticky the whole way home.

[mariasont]

hi!!!!

I'm soooo in love your work. bimbo!assistantreader wil always have a special place in my heart!!!

Now i have this of idea that i think can work for either aaron or spencer, but basically bau!reader who kind of always wears the same type of outfit in the field that's always really modest. Buttttt when they kind of like "know" it's just going to be a paperwork day she likes to were skirts... short skirts and Aaron/Spencer are just feral for them...

Can either be fluff of smut... I trust you indefinitely xxx

Short Skirt, Long Day - A.H

a/n: hi hi hi hiiiiiii!!! ugh thank u sm i kinda took this an interesting route so let me know what you think!!!! im also heavily thinking about writing a smutty pt 2 for this but id love to hear everyone’s opinions

masterlist

pairings: perv!aaronhotchner x bau!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, suggestive content, aaron being a straight PERV!!! (im into idk man), aaron imagining scenarios he didn’t shouldn’t at work, idk this is quite different from my usual postings but i kinda fuck with it

wc: 1.4k

Aaron Hotchner loved paperwork day.

Days like these meant the frenetic energy of ringing phones and rapid footsteps is replaced by the soft drone of air conditioning and the occasional rustle of files being shifted. It’s the kind of morning he appreciated—time to breathe, to recalibrate without the air of an active case breathing down his neck.

But that's not why his pulse is thrumming more than steadily beneath his skin.

Hotch glances at the clock on his desk. It's early—too early for most of the team to be here yet, save for a couple agents whose faces barely register in his peripheral vision. His focus is elsewhere, fixed on a singular thought. Or, rather, on a singular person.

You.

Hotch leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as a shameful type of heat rises to his face. It's a little pathetic, he thinks, how predictable he's become—it's not the work that makes these mornings bearable anymore. It's the anticipation.

The knowledge that, any minute now, the elevator doors will part, and you'll step out, wearing something that will completely dismantle his carefully constructed composure.

Hotch had noticed a pattern (of course he did, that was his instinct honed to a razor's edge). In the field, your outfits are a study in practicality: slacks, fitted jackets, muted tones--professional to a T. Nothing flashy, nothing that would draw undue attention. 

But in the office, when the cases are shelved, and the team is left to wade through stacks of paperwork... it's different.

And it drives him insane.

The image takes root before he can stop it: the curve of your thighs, tantalizingly framed by a skirt that seemed designed to test his limits. The way the fabric molds to you when you move, clinging in places that his eyes are all too quick to follow.

Hotch exhales sharply, clearing his throat as if that could somehow clear his mind. It's unprofessional--he knows this, knows better than to let his thoughts stray so far from where they belong but yet…

The ding of the elevator pulls his attention like a magnet, and there you are. His grip on the pen tightens instinctively, the knuckles blanching as his gaze locks on you.

You're wearing that skirt today--black, fitted, and infuriatingly short, hugging your hips in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He tells himself to look away, and for a second, he manages it--his eyes dropping back to his desk, his breath coming out slow and measured. But that reprieve is fleeting. His gaze flicks back before he can stop it, drawn helplessly to the curve of your waist as you laugh at something one of the other agents say.

You're too good. Too sweet. Too damn oblivious to realize what you're doing to him.

And he knows it's wrong—knows he's toeing a line he has no business approaching. But the way his body reacts to you, the pull you have on him, is beyond reason. It's instinctual, raw, and completely out of his control.

He calls out your name. "Could you come in here for a moment?"

You turn, blinking at him with wide, curious eyes. "Yes, sir?"

"I need you to grab something for me," he replies, his voice level, though every syllable felt like a tightly coiled spring. He motions towards the cabinet near the corner of the room. "The Marcus file. Bottom shelf."

He was a terrible terrible man.

Without hesitation, you step toward the cabinet, crouching slightly as you begin to sift through the lower shelf. The moment your body lowers, his eyes start trailing down where the hem of your skirt lifts, just barely revealing the soft curve of where your thighs meet your ass. Then, as you bend further, shifting your weight slightly to reach deeper on the shelf, the fabric stretches taut, clinging to your ass in a way that sends a jolt straight through him.

Hotch's throat feels tight, his breathing shallow as he drinks in the sight before him. You're so close, just feet away, and the angle offers him an unobstructed view. The shape of you, the smooth expanse of skin that's always just out of reach in the field, is right there--so achingly close he feels like his chest might explode.

He knows if you dipped any further, your panties would be on display and he couldn’t help but wonder what color you had on.

You’ve always had a meticulous attention to detail, choices leaning towards deliberate but understated at the same time. In the field, you favored muted tones—greys, blacks, navies. But here in the relative safety of the office you allow a little more personality, more femininity.

His mind turns to your preferences—pink, maybe.

Hotch swallows hard, pulse roaring in his ears. The thought gnaws at him, insistent and unrelenting—he needs to know.

“Careful,” he says, feigning concern. “You might need to check further back on the shelf. Sometimes the files get pushed out of sight.”

You glance over your shoulder at him and he swears he could combust. “Further back?”

He nods, leaning back in his chair to appear casual, though his grip on the armrests were anything but. “Yes.”

You turn back to the cabinet, shifting your weight again as you crouch lower, leaning further to search the back of the shelf. The motion sends the bottom of your skirt riding higher, and for a brief, heart stopping moment, the lace of your panties is on full display.

It was a pink barely there strip of fabric.

His mind betrays him, conjuring images he knows he shouldn't entertain. He imagines his hands on you, running over the curve of his hips, gripping your thighs, sliding that damn skirt higher until there's nothing left to hide. The thought of you like this, pliant and completely unaware of the effect you're having on him, makes his pulse pound in his ears. He wonders what you would do if he were to push those panties to the side and slide a finger in you.

You shift again, leaning deeper into the cabinet as your voice drifts back to him, murmuring something about not seeing it. His jaw locks, teeth pressing together as he fights to maintain control. His fingers dig into the armrests of his chair, the leather creaking faintly beneath the strain. It's a futile effort, though; the pressure building in his chest, his body, is relentless.

The heat pools low in his abdomen, simmering and insistent, a sharp pulse of arousal tightening every muscle in his body. He's painfully hard now, the evidence uncomfortably against his slacks, but he doesn't dare move. His mind a blur of want--what he wants to do to you, what he knows he shouldn't do, and the precarious line he's treading just watching you like this.

The tension in his body seems unbearable, and for a fleeting second, he considers how easy it would be to walk over, to let his hand graze your hip, to tilt your chin up so you'd look at him and see the wreckage you've left in your wake. 

But he doesn't. He can't.

Instead, he forces himself to remain still, staying rooted, the self-restraint biting and bitter. 

"Are you sure it's under here? I still don't see it."

Hotch's lips twitch, the smallest shadow of a smirk threatening to break free on his face. He leans forward, feigning surprise as he picks up the file from the corner of his desk.

"Ah," he says, waving the file. "Looks like it's been right here the whole time."

You straighten abruptly, brushing your hands down your skirt and turning towards him with a soft laugh. "Hotch! So I was practically upside down in that cabinet for nothing!"

He shakes his head, giving a small chuckle to match yours. Not for nothing. The satisfaction still simmers low in his chest, a private indulgence he knows you'll never suspect--the movement was far from wasted.

"My mistake."

"Well, I guess we all have our moments. Let me know if there's anything else you need, okay?"

When the door finally closes behind you, he exhales shakily, the breath spilling out like a confession. Leaning back in his chair, he presses his fingers to his temples, his entire body tense with the effort of restraint. He feels unmoored, like a man balancing on the edge of a precipice, one misstep away from losing everything he’s worked so hard to keep under control.

But for now, he’ll settle for watching, for imagining, for wishing—knowing full well that nothing could ever come of it. And yet, as he glances at the door where you’d just been, a part of him wonders how much longer he can hold out.

It’s going to be an impossibly long day—but the most troubling part of all is how much he’s starting to enjoy the torment.

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[hattiestgal]

If you don't mind my asking, how do you go about drawing fat? :3

JUST THE EXCUSE I WAS LOOKING FOR

So, for me personally, a lot of the time when I draw fat characters, I'm not looking to specifically capture the specifics of fat as much as the feel of fat. Bulkier, rounder shapes in the right places that has a feeling of weight to em! A lot of that is intuition and simplification at this point, but it all works on the same frame as just any ol' person. Like take this-

For example. This is the basis for any body shape, not just the more average one that it may imply. Sure- it can be that average body shape:

But also a fat one too!

And a big part of that is knowing where fat usually tends to bunch up on the body, so lets take a look piece by piece! (Please keep in mind this is very simplified, and not completely precise in some parts)

THE FACE: Cheeks (in purple) and especially the chin (in light blue) are the places where a lot of the fat is gonna wanna gather and round out on your face! Additionally, theres a small pocket of fat beneath the cranium on the backside of your head. It's small, but it is there. I believe fat can build up elsewhere like the bridge of your nose and forehead, but generally speaking, you're gonna have a whole lot more buildup in other places first.

THE TORSO: A lot of the fat built up on the torso is gonna be sent to your tummy. More cushioning for vital organs, mostly out of the way, it just makes sense. Additionally, the lower backs fat builds up and joins with a patch of fat on your sides that forms what is typically referred to as the love handles to make that double belly look. Along with this, the immediate next target for the torso is the breasts, followed by the upper back!

THE ARMS: For this limb, a VERY notable amount of the fat present builds up on the tricep and bicep areas, lessening once you get towards the flexor and extensor areas. You can almost think of the arm as a sort of triangular shape, wide side starting from the shoulder and tapering towards the hand, which itself mostly builds up fat around the back of the hand and the fingers. The shoulders themselves don't build up too much fat unless you got a lot

THE LEGS: And finally, you can think of the legs having pretty similar curves to what you're probably already used to thinking. The front of the thighs getting a big buildup, along with the back of the calves, the other parts being flatter in turn. As far as the feet go- similarly to the hands, the top of the feet, along with the heels get most of the buildup, as fat on your soles would impede mobility. The glute, hip and crotch area will also especially build up fat, lending to the same triangular shape that you can see in the arm!

A big thing to note with fat is that it tends to taper off towards joints. Your knees, elbows, shoulders, hips, and all the other places are gonna have significantly less fat so that you remain mobile and flexible, as that's important!

Now that we have an idea of where fat builds up on the body, you might have something that looks kinda like this

Which yes, does demonstrate a solid understanding of the places fat builds up, lacks the weight you're probably trying to convey, which brings us to out next point! Fat is well... heavy! Gravity is what gives fat much of it's shape, especially as you tread towards larger and larger bodies.

This is demonstrated really well on the arms especially-

Those big ol' bits of fat'll really start to sag when left hanging, and they will squish like hell if they run into something. I like to think of these bits of fat as big ol' ovals that squash and stretch depending on if there's an obstacle in their way or not

These are the important shapes to remember when it comes to the weightiness of fat! If you take all of this into mind, you should be getting something a lot closer to that shape you've been after!

Oh, and always remember that fat bodies come in all variety of shapes and sizes! Play around with a whole lot, and seek out all the resources you can! it'll really lend to your knowledge when it comes to this kinda stuff!

And as I always recommend when it comes to learning art- look at what your favorite artists do with fat bodies. See what you really like about the fat bodies they draw and try to replicate it in your own work, I promise you it's one of the most helpful things ever.

This is like the most basic of basics when it comes to drawing fat bodies though. If there's any additional thing about fat bodies, or maybe you want clarification on something, don't be afraid to ask! If there's enough to cover, I'll make an addition to this post!

[hoe4hotchner]

Ink | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader CW: Fluff, I mentioned haley once WC: 0.9k Summary: Hotch has tattoos

@lavenderspence my beloved, here's the tattooed hotch fic 🤭

           You stirred from your slumber, groggy and warm, wrapped up in the sheets as the morning sun filtered softly through the curtains. The familiar rustle of fabric and the quiet creak of the floorboards made you aware that Aaron had gotten out of bed and was getting ready for work. Through heavy eyelids, you saw him standing by the dresser, his broad back to you as he slipped his shirt over his shoulders. Your gaze lingered on the arm that had yet to disappear into his sleeve, taking in the sight of the black outlines covering it from wrist to shoulder.

           The ink swirled in intricate, detailed designs, tribal patterns that blended into abstract shapes and pictures, and hidden among them were symbols that meant something so profoundly personal to him. It was a side of him that still felt like a secret between the two of you, something he kept tucked away beneath the sharp, professional exterior of his suits.

           A soft smile curled at the corner of your lips. No one at the BAU, except perhaps Rossi, had any idea of this hidden layer to Aaron Hotchner - the loving, soft man who hid beautiful art that told the story of him under his perfectly tailored attire.

           You shifted under the sheets, drawing his attention as you yawned and stretched. “Morning,” you murmured, your voice was thick with sleep but laced with affection.

           Aaron turned, his lips curving into a gentle smile as his eyes met yours. He was already nearly dressed, his pants on, tie draped around his neck, but the buttons of his shirt remained undone. He moved with the same grace and composure you’d come to love - always so calm and collected, yet with you, there was an undercurrent of warmth.

           “Good morning,” he said. “Did I wake you?”

           You shook your head, sitting up slightly, propping yourself on your elbows. “No. Just woke up to a nice view,” you teased, your eyes dipping to the few parts of ink on his arm still exposed.

           He chuckled softly, a low sound that rumbled in his chest as he stepped closer to the bed. “The view, huh?” His tone was playful, his eyebrow slightly raised.

           Your fingers reached for his arm, gently brushing over the designs. You traced the lines of one of the patterns, something abstract and fluid, before shifting to the more personal details - the initials of Jack woven into the design, a small symbol from his days as a prosecutor, and something you knew was tied to Haley, but never dared to ask about, it was a reminder of his past.

           "I still can't believe you hide all this every day," you murmured, your fingers following the art up to his forearm.

           His smile softened, a glimmer of something fond in his eyes. "Not exactly professional to show up with tattoos on full display at a federal agency," he replied, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

           "Yeah, because Morgan doesn't do that every day," you teased, rolling your eyes, and then smiled more softly. "But I love that this part of you is mine to see," you whispered, your hand now resting on the inside of his forearm. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you felt the steady pulse of his heartbeat there.

           He watched you for a moment, there was something tender and unguarded in his expression, and then he leaned down, bracing his hands on the bed on either side of you. "You like the tattoos?" he asked softly, his lips close to yours.

           You nodded, your breath catching slightly as his proximity made your heart race. “I love them. It’s such a contrast to the Aaron Hotchner everyone knows at the BAU.”

           His gaze flickered down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I like that you get to see all of me,” he admitted, his voice lower now, rougher, as if confessing something vulnerable.

           You smiled, reaching up to brush a stray strand of his hair back. "And I can't wait to see more when you come home," you murmured, your voice teasing but sincere.

           Aaron smirked, leaning in to brush his lips lightly against yours, a fleeting kiss that left you wanting more. “I’ll show you as much as you want,” he whispered against your lips before pulling back slightly, his breath warm on your skin.

           “Promise?” you asked softly, your fingers trailing down the front of his shirt, still unbuttoned, leaving a trail of warmth where they touched.

           He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closing for a brief second as he took in the moment. “Promise," he said, his voice soft but full of intent.

           Reluctantly, Aaron pulled away, straightening up as he finished buttoning his shirt, hiding the tattoos once more. You watched as the last bit of ink vanished beneath the crisp, white fabric, a small part of you already missing the sight.

           He reached for his tie, looping it around his neck with ease as you propped yourself up further on the bed, watching him with a mixture of admiration and affection. He caught your gaze in the mirror, smirking slightly at your look of longing.

           "Don’t worry," he said as he tucked the end of his tie into place, "Tonight, I’ll make it up to you.”

           You grinned, biting your lip. "You better."

           With a soft laugh, Aaron grabbed his jacket, leaning down for one last kiss before he headed to work. It was slow and lingering, a promise in itself that he’d be back later tonight.

           As the door closed behind him, you flopped back into the pillows, already counting down the hours until he returned. Because tonight, the suit would come off, and his ink would be on full display, and all of him would be yours once more.

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

six | chapter list

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you. 

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, implied chubby!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Why aren’t you hitting me?” James asks. 

The safety mat under your feet does little to assuage your fears. James Potter is perhaps the last person on earth you’d expect to hurt you, and yet you can’t shake the image of him deflecting your punch and sending you reeling. 

With his lovely curls slicked away from his face, his nice mouth, the curve of it where he’s smiling encouragingly, you don’t really want to hit him. 

“I can’t,” you say. 

“Yes, you can. One day you might have to, and I need to know you can do it without breaking your own hand.” The no nonsense tone he’d tended to sport when you first met barely three weeks ago is seemingly gone, replaced by a friendly, almost cavalier tone. Like this is fun. “It won’t hurt you much, I swear. And you should get your revenge. I hit you pretty hard.” 

“You didn’t hit me,” you say. “The door did.” 

“It was my fault.” He smiles, readjusting his stance with feet planted firmly against the mat. 

“James…” 

“Just hit me,” he says. 

You tense your fist around your thumb and hit him square in the chest. It’s not a punch by any means, a weak landing of your knuckles that doesn’t move him. Still, you’re surprised with yourself, checking his face for a sign that you’d done any damage. 

“There are so many people who’d love to punch me,” he laughs, nodding to your hand, “you can do better than that, if only to do what they couldn’t.” 

“I don’t want to hit you, James.” 

“I know, you have to. Come on, it’s easier than you think. You bring your first back to your shoulder and you move into it, okay? Use your weight to do the work. You’ll never hurt anyone if you don’t.” 

“I’d rather not, though.” 

“I know that, too, but you might need to. God forbid you be in a situation where I’m not there to protect you,” —here he does something strange with his eyebrows you’ve yet to encounter, sending a straight shot of butterflies through you, their wings fluttering in the soft part of your throat— “but you don’t have to be defenceless if I’m not. Give me a good swing and I’ll make sure Marlene has that pear ice cream at dinner tonight.” 

“Marlene would make it if I asked,” you say unsurely.

“But if you hit me, I’ll ask for you.” 

“You can be very manipulative.”

“Sometimes. Alright, hit me. Or I’ll tackle you again. You didn’t like that last time.” 

Obviously you hadn’t enjoyed being tackled, because James hadn’t hurt you, he’d simply overpowered you. In one sense, it had been panicky to realise you were at someone’s mercy. James had grabbed you simply behind the back with your chests pressed together and hooked his calf behind your legs, taking them from under you, and following you to the ground. You didn’t like it because he didn’t hurt you, he’d pressed his weight into yours with an arm tight across your chest, just under your throat, and you could smell his hair. Smell almond or jojoba or– or something warm. 

It isn’t that you have feelings for James. You don’t know him well enough. But having someone like James pressing down on you was impossible to ignore, consciously and subliminally.

You really don’t want to do this, drawing your arm back, tightening your first two fingers. James’ eyes widen, his lips falling open as you hit him hard enough to bruise a half inch from his heart. He stumbles and you follow, before flinching back hard, tucking shameful arms to your chest. 

“Sorry!” you burst. “Fuck, sorry! I thought you were ready!” 

“I was ready.” James grins widely. “Awesome. Do that again, yeah? Let’s have one on the cheek this time.” 

“I am not punching you in the face.” 

“You could always aim somewhere softer. The point is to incapacitate me. Hitting me in the chest won’t do that.” He rubs a hand into his shirt, the dark compression material barely moving. “You might have bruised me, though. I’m a good teacher.” 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say. 

James deliberates. He tips his head back, showing you the rather nice point of his chin and his neck. A beauty mark sits nestled atop his Adam's apple. 

“Alright. Sorry. No more hitting. Maybe we’ll give the offensive a break for a while and go back to defence again in a few days?” he suggests. 

You relax. 

You’re wearing clothes you’re not used to, a compression shirt like James’, a pair of dark trousers of a similar material with loose ends. Sirius had done some online shopping with you, not worrying as your elbows brushed. He pointed at things and you’d given weak yesses or resolute nos. The total had climbed and climbed, and Sirius had taken your choking for self-preservation. “Not to worry,” he’d said, grinning, “the royal coffers will pay for this lot.” 

It doesn’t feel real. Endless money with no limit nor reason. He’d opened Curry’s swiftly after and asked you what laptop you wanted for uni. He’d attempted to goad you into two. 

It’s alien. All of it, even James across from you where he’s sitting now to put his trainers back on. He doesn’t feel anymore real than the day you met, this handsome, tall boy tasked with keeping you safe. You’ve never been someone’s number one priority. 

“Come and put your shoes on, lovely.” 

You’re not sure how to cope with that, either. He and Sirius both seem quick to coddle when you’re distracted, and you’re distracted often. You shrug away your thoughts, relaxing your tight shoulders as you cross the empty gym to sit next to him. Your trainers are new, too, a sporty pair that cost more money than your last three pairs combined. 

“It’s nice to have new things,” you confess, “but odd.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I’ve been wearing the same pair of converse for two years. I had one pair of proper shoes, and one bag. One purse. And I didn’t mind it, just… just, it makes you feel sick sometimes when you want stuff. It’s embarrassing.”

If James is surprised at your sudden admission, he doesn’t show it. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of in wanting things,” he says, hands braced on his knees, “but I can guess why you might’ve felt like that. We try not to think about the things we want because that can make not having it worse.” 

What couldn’t you have? you think, searching his expression for a hint. 

“I’m glad it’s nice,” he furthers, tapping his heel against yours. “They look good. Are they comfortable?” 

“They feel like I’m wearing socks half the time.” 

James nods appreciatively. “Well, get them on. We’ll nip into the pharmacist before we go home, do you have your sunglasses?” 

“It’s too grey outside for sunglasses, we look ridiculous.” 

“You look like the front page of every newspaper. Ever. In the entire western world. Here, put your hoodie on.” 

You and James leave the gym with a wave to the women at the front desk and begin down the street. James hates the city obviously, wrinkling his nose at the grey cobbled streets and all of its sooty puddles. He walks from place to place rigid as a tentpole, swerving in front of you the second that someone looks at you too long. You wonder if this is what having a boyfriend is like. James is constantly making sure you’re safe, that you’re on the right side of the pavement, that you’re warm and fed and smiling. But you don’t suppose a boyfriend gets paid to spend time with you, nor do they spend nights on the lumpy sofa in the living room when they’re too tired to drive home at the end of a long shift. 

You think without wanting to of James climbing into bed with you, a split second of his warm arm over your back, and shake it away as he pulls you into the pharmacy. 

“Can you look at something else?” you ask, turning to him as you pull off your silly sunglasses. 

James raises his eyebrows. “Whatever for?” 

“I need stuff.” 

“I know you need stuff. You asked me if we could come here. Which, by the way, you don’t need to do. You’re supposed to boss me around.” 

You look over a shelf of shampoos and deodorants and begin reading their labels. James took you shopping the day after you got back, but you’d been stuck in your old ways and what you didn’t skimp on, you forgot. You eye a large bottle of shampoo that brags deep moisture for your hair type and take it from the shelf, then the matching conditioner, and then its hair mask. Your shoulders curl forward, worried James will think you greedy or sad or something in between, but he just says, “Pass them here, Princess.” 

“It’s fine, I can–”

“I’ll have them. I’ll go get a basket.”

He scoops everything into big hands and walks back to the pharmacy’s entrance. 

It’s a big pharmacy, modern, with white walls and bright fluorescent lights behind shelves. You catch yourself in a mirror next to a stand of cosmetics and wince. You look odd in these sporty clothes. Your nose is shiny. 

You wipe your face with your sleeve and stare at the cosmetics with no clue what to get. Should’ve asked Sirius to come. Or better yet, someone who regularly wears makeup. Only thing is, you don’t really know anybody who does. 

“You don’t have to rush,” James says, joining you at the makeup section, such a long walk from the shampoos. “Did you sprint down here?” 

You’d speed-walked past the sexual health aisle actually, but James doesn’t need to be privy to that information. “You don’t want to be here all day.” 

“I want to be exactly where you are. If that’s looking at lip gloss, then so be it.” 

You smile, a little shy, a little rueful, and turn your attention back to the lip glosses in question. There’s browns and pinks, blush-rose red and moodier cherries. “I don’t…” 

“That one,” James says, poking a barrel with confidence, “would suit you. And this one, too. You’ll look lovely.”

You don’t know what to say. The colours he’s chosen get added to your basket without comment, after you’ve wrestled it out of his unwilling hands. You spend a few minutes spready tester shades of concealer against the back of your hand, where James again recommends the one that matches your skin tone best. He leans behind you, and he does his job, sweeping the aisles and giving the shop a long up and down every once in a while, but for the most part he acts like he’s there to be there. 

You get to the bit of the pharmacy you’d come for initially, the shorter but well-stocked supplement and vitamin aisle. Realistically, you aren’t going to take ten different vitamins a day, and with Marlene’s cooking it isn’t as though you need them, but there are things you’ve always craved. Biotin and collagen, for healthier hair and nails. Multi-nutrient sachets for every day, the good stuff, and so expensive your eyes initially skip over them. 

Your hand hesitates in front of a box and James makes a warm humming noise. 

“They look promising.”

“I’ve never had them before.”

“I have a killer magnesium deficiency,” James says. “I usually take the magnesium and zinc, but that throws my copper out of whack.” 

You can’t tell if he’s messing with you. You smile at him, not quite stickily but getting there, your cheeks appled with it. “Not your copper.” 

“It’s not funny, Princess. It makes me want to sleep all day.” 

“Not funny,” you agree, grabbing the box of sachets and placing them atop the new electric toothbrush you’d fancied. You feel gluttonous and weird with it, because you don’t suppose you really need one, but James had only said That’s a nice colour. 

“James,” you say, meandering with him toward the tills, “you didn’t need anything, did you?” 

He grins at you like you’ve said something different. “I have everything I need, don’t worry.” 

“You sure?” 

His eyes seem lighter, then. Amber flecks in the browned honey of his irises. “Promise.” 

He tries to get you to visit the perfume counter, but the basket is getting heavy and you’ve spent enough as it is. Not even a tenth, a hundredth, a thousandth of what you have now at your disposal, but so much more than you ever would’ve before. 

The lady at the till eyes James behind you. She beams when James opens his wallet and passes you the card you were given by Sirius for expenses, and laughs when you refuse to take it. “I have mine,” you say, “this is all for me, I can pay.” 

“Technically it’s your upkeep,” James argues. 

“James.” You pass the cashier your card as James frowns. 

“I wish my boyfriend offered so quickly,” the cashier says. 

You go hot all over, but before you can tell her James isn’t your boyfriend, he’s laughing and taking the handles of your heavy pink carrier, pulling it toward him as the cashier sorts your receipt. “I shouldn’t have tried, really.” 

“It’s the thought that counts.” She hands you your receipt. “You should to let him pay, chick, especially if he’s offering.” 

“Maybe next time,” you appease. 

You’re still flushed when you and James break outside again, the cold a blessed relief. James lets your pink bag rest in the crook of his arm, while the other hovers behind you, looking around the street unhurried. “Anywhere else you want to go, chick?” he asks. 

You laugh. “She was nice.” 

“Very motherly.” 

“I want to go home, I think. Did you need anything else?” 

“I do all my shopping when I’m not working.” 

“When aren’t you working?” you ask genuinely. “You spend more than half the day at my flat, and when you leave– if you leave, it’s night time.” You give him a sideways glance. “I have nothing else to do today.” 

James contemplates this. “I– I’ve been meaning to get Sirius a gift. It’s his birthday next week, did you know?” 

“No! When?” 

“The third.” 

“What does he like?” 

James beckons toward a neon signed music shop. “He loves music. Music and the macabre, you know, like, horror movies. And he reads, despite what he might have you believe.” 

You fall into step. “Alright. You’ll have to tell me what to buy.” 

Again, he gives you a look like you’ve said something different, like you’ve said something lovely. 

“I can do that,” James says. “I won’t steer you wrong.”

—

Later that evening, after another tentative hour in the car with James’ patient coaching, you return home to shower. It’s luxurious and strenuous simultaneously. The new hair mask is fragrant and silky between your fingers, leaving the bathroom thick with its smell, the warm air clouding the windows. You hurry between the bathroom and your bedroom in a bath sheet and pretend you don’t notice James’ head tipping in your direction. 

“Everything alright?” he calls to your bedroom door. 

You spy on him through the gap. “I’m fine. Sorry I took so long.” 

“Remus has asked if he can come early and have dinner with us.” 

“He doesn’t need to ask!” you call, closing the door soundly. 

It will be nice to have Remus for dinner. He doesn’t have to tell you what fork to use here, you only have one kind, but he explains the heritage or main flavours of each dish and doesn’t make you feel embarrassed when you don’t know the Genovian Marlene uses. Honestly, you hadn’t even realised Genovia had a language, a hodge podge, Remus says, of Italian and French. And Remus has a steady voice that feels evidence of his more humble background —he’s like you, you’ve found out, working class and humbly brought up. He attended their boarding school on a scholarship of academic prowess, and served as a prefect for all seven years. 

“How exhausting,” you’d said. 

“With those two? You wouldn’t believe it.” 

His disdain was feigned, mostly. It’s why you’re excited to have him for dinner. When the boys are together, they end up telling you stories about their hijinks at school, and you get to peek into the window of their lives, see their fondness for one another in praises and shoulder squeezes and their ridiculous nicknames. 

You haven’t managed to ask about them yet. They slip out every once in a while, and in multiple variations. Moony, Moons, Moon and Pads, Pad, Padfoot. Remus’ you’ve deduced from a story they told, how Remus could be oh so moody when he wasn’t very well, like a wolf, a werewolf. Isn’t that clever for a gang of twelve year olds? Lupin, the wolf boy. You have a feeling it didn’t start out as a particularly kind nickname, but it morphed into a loving moniker later on. Sirius’ nickname, however, you’ve no chance at working out. Padfoot? 

And Prongs? You assume James had a nasty run in with a fork. 

You dress in soft, new clothes. Prongs, you think, doesn’t suit him at all. The James you know is only ever prickly when you’re at risk. He doesn’t flinch when you panic, never hardens. He has a soft hand for your back whenever you need a pat. 

Your socks slide on the living room tiles as you make your way in. James is clicking away on his phone, a dark business phone with many, many buttons. It’s dwarfed by his hand. He swears under his breath. 

“Everything okay?” you ask softly. 

James looks up and his gaze snags on you, his head tilted to his phone and his eyes steadfast where they look you over. “Fine. Nice shower?” 

You’re rich now. Every shower is nice, the boiler turned to a high six, hot water neverending. 

“It was good. Where’s Sirius?” 

“I’m actually not sure.” 

“Isn’t that your job?” 

“No. And if it were I wouldn’t know anyways.” He turns back to his phone. “He’s a slippery one, Pads,” he murmurs, “I couldn’t really keep track of him if I tried.” 

You feel as though you’ve caught him at a bad time. Restless, you turn away from him and head for your small kitchen, unsurprised to find Marlene still cooking and the continued remodelling of your kitchen. Old countertops find themselves housing new oiled cutting boards. Your grody cooker seems small beneath a HexClad Dutch oven, where oil bubbles and spits lightly, dough cuts set on a baking sheet beside it. 

“Hi, Marlene. What are you making?” you ask curiously. 

She grins at you from over her shoulder. “Apple cider doughnuts. I’ve made cinnamon sugar, do you mind it?” 

“What’s the thermometer?” you ask. 

She laughs at you lightly. She’s used to you dodging questions. “Just making sure I don’t set your house alight. At home I can do this by eye, but it’s finicky with your oven. She’s temperamental.” 

“Sorry.” 

Marlene waves a hand. “You want to try?” 

“I’ll just be in your way.” 

“No, you won’t. Frying doughnuts is fun, here. I’ve put each of them on a bit of greaseproof paper. They slide right off.” 

Marlene doesn’t usually take no for an answer. She’s not bossy, but decisive. You’re hesitant at first of the boiling oil and the greaseproof paper doesn’t cooperate when you try it, but eventually you’ve freed a crispy bit of paper from the dough, watching patiently as Marlene turns the doughnuts. She tells you about the dark colour you’re searching for, “I’ve put apples in the dough, see, so they’ll come to a brilliant dark colour without burning. We’ll have them with ice cream or whatever you like.” 

”James told you I wanted it?” you ask shyly. 

“James didn’t mention you at all, he just begged a bit for it. He can be quite pathetic when he needs to be.”  

“I resent that!” James calls. 

Sirius and Remus arrive in their usual pair, Remus tall and light to Sirius’ tighter darkness. Remus wears glasses today, black thin frames perched atop a scar on his nose. Sirius is being himself, poking at them and reminding Remus that just because he is an insufferable swat doesn’t mean he has to look like one. 

“You’re worse than insufferable,” Remus says. When he sees you, he brightens. “Ah, Princess. James hasn’t injured you, that’s brilliant.” 

“And you clearly haven’t killed him in a motor vehicular disaster,” Sirius says cheerfully. “Praise be.” 

“We’re both fine,” you say. 

“Were you worried about us?” James asks. 

“I wasn’t worried about you, James,” Remus says with a smirk. 

You eat as you have every day for the week since you’ve been home: around the coffee table, five plates and drinks rearing to get knocked over and ruin it all. Your knees press into Remus’ on the left and Marlene’s on the right. James sits across from you now that Frank’s shown up for his night shift, digging in with vigour, beaming around his fork as Sirius gives him a good nudge. So many people in your crammed flat. It doesn’t seem real. Half the time, they’re just here to keep you company. 

Paid to keep me company, you think, biting your tongue as you do. This isn’t… real. 

Something taps you under the table. James’ hand, you find, long fingers pressing soft into your kneecap. You quickly lift your head again to find him frowning at you mildly. Okay? he mouths. 

“Bit my tongue,” you say. 

“Ouch,” Remus says. 

James pokes his lip with his tongue. “Be careful,” he says eventually. 

You ignore whatever it is he’s not saying and pick at your food instead. For dinner, Marlene has made a traditional Genovian pasta dish heavy with red pesto and steak. It isn’t what you’re expecting, used to the paler whites and greens of the last week's worth of dinner. James couldn’t be enjoying it more, and Sirius has pledged his undying love to Marlene three or four times since you sat down. 

“Jesus, I barely miss Genovia when you cook like this,” he says. “I will happily serve my country.” 

“Unlike before, when you were here unhappily,” Remus teased. 

Sirius looks you dead in the eye. “Princess, I would follow you anywhere. Marlene is an added bonus.” 

“I– I really wish you guys wouldn’t call me that.” 

Sirius looks gently chastened. “Sorry, sorry. It’s muscle memory at this point. If I called Princess Julianna by anything but her title, she would’ve had me drawn and quartered in the royal courtyards, is all.” 

“And the rest,” James snorts. 

“I try not to address her at all,” Remus says to himself. 

Everyone laughs. You join in a second later, wondering about your unknown cousin. “She was rather spoiled, wasn’t she?” you ask. 

“You’d think she’d tone it down some. Her royal status is rather tenuous, you know.” 

James gives Sirius a look. Careful, it says. 

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“Well, she’s a royal by marriage, not blood. We explained that, didn’t we?” 

James had said it was complicated. You’d been too startled about your own royal status to inspect it any further. “She’s not a Renaldi?” you ask. 

As it’s explained, your uncle (uncle! who is indeed royal by blood, and the eldest son) forwent the throne when it became clear he wouldn’t be allowed to marry a divorced lover otherwise (reminiscent of certain British scandals). Said divorced lover already had a daughter, a young Julianna. And so your uncle remained a prince but not a king, and Julianna became a princess, to the ire of half the country. 

Traditions have changed in time, but Julianna still lacks Renaldi blood. 

“It drives her mad,” James says. He’s leaning back against the armchair now, dinner finished, a big glass of apple cider in his hands. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you say. “Sorry, I sound horrible, just. She wasn’t super friendly.” 

“It would’ve been better for everyone if she was,” Sirius says. 

You wait for him to continue. Marlene prompts him, “You think so?” 

“Well, yes, I suppose. Anything is better than a country ruled by Baron Riddle. Evil, loathsome man. He thinks that nobody knows he’s had a nose job, you know.” 

“Who’s Baron Riddle?” you ask. 

A hush falls around the table. You look down at your plate, eyes on the red shine of pesto and olive oil where it’s grown cold on your plate. A hunk of soft bread is discarded beside it. You poke at it with your nail until crumbs flake away, lips parted, not sure what to say. “Is he–?”

“He’s a bad man, Y/N,” Sirius says. His voice has turned soft but not thin. “He’s prejudiced and cruel. If nobody of Renaldi blood takes the throne when your grandmother steps down, he’ll rule Genovia. And he’ll run it into the ground.” 

James isn’t looking at you when you drag your head up. He downs the last of his cider and stands up, murmuring about clearing the table as he carries his and Sirius’ plate to the kitchen. 

“I didn’t know,” you say. Well, you’d known someone would ascend to the throne if you didn’t. But you didn’t know about Riddle. A guilty heat builds in your throat. “I had no idea.” 

“James asked us not to tell you,” Remus says pointedly. 

“She has a right to know,” Sirius says. They glare at each other, but the heat in Sirius’ voice doesn’t rescind. “What? She does. She’s a grown up.” 

You shake your head. “Thank you, um, for telling me. I’ll just take these out, should I?” You gesture to the plates and stand up quickly. You can’t escape the feeling that Sirius is very angry with you, and you don’t want to face it, so you escape the room instead. 

James’ shoulders are tense in the kitchen. He scrapes his plate clean into the food recycling bin, offering his hand without looking for your own. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

“Of course.” 

Silence blossoms like an achy bruise. 

“James–”

“Thank you for having me for dinner, but I really should be going now. I promised my mum an overdue call.” 

He’s angry. 

You cringe away from him. “Okay. Yeah, no problem.” 

“Okay. Stay safe while I’m gone, yes? Remember your panic button.” 

Your hand inches up to the opposite wrist, where your tennis bracelet of sapphires sits tightly. You’d forgotten all about the panic button embedded in disguise under one of the gemstones. 

He smiles at you briefly, and in a minute or two he’s gone. Sirius goes out after him, leaving you and Remus and Marlene to the heap of dishes, a bad taste lingering on your tongue that has nothing to do with dinner. 

[parkersbliss]

the 141 and their obsessed girlfriend

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader 

synopsis: you love your boyfriend, maybe a little too much that some of the things you say are... concerning to say the least.

warnings: kind of gory for simon, sexual innuendo, death threat, reader is just unhinged and in love with her man fr

a/n: if you get it, you get it. these all may or may nOT be things I've said to my boyfriend to which he said I was "batshit crazy but in a sexy way"

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Ghost:

You sigh, laying your head down on Simon’s chest. His reaction is instinctive, an arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer. You snuggle further into him, his warmth radiating onto your skin. A reminder to you of where your home truly was. 

You can hear his heartbeat in his chest, pumping at a steady pace. You count each thump, rhythmic and soft. Faintly, you hear the sound of air moving in and out of his lungs and the slight bubbling of his stomach from the food you had eaten earlier. 

Simon’s hand strokes your lower back, drawing circles as his eyes focus on the rugby match. He’s unaware of his actions, something he’s too used to when he lies with you. He likes feeling the warmth, the subtle pulse, and shivers. It’s a reminder that you’re real. 

You’re too lost in his heartbeat to hear the narration of the game. There was something so comforting to listen to him, affirming what you knew was true. Your boyfriend was alive, his heart circulating the blood through his body. You push yourself further into his chest, wanting to be closer. You couldn’t get any closer, you knew that, but you needed to be. There was some part of you that kept urging for it. 

“Simon,” You call out. 

He looks down at you. “Hm?”

You meet his eyes. “I want to cut through your skin, open your ribcage, and feel your heart.” You said it casually, not faltering and maintaining eye contact with him. You needed to crawl into his chest and live there, be one with him. Closer. 

Simon doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink at your words. “I’d want nothing more than to have you cradle my heart in your hands.” 

You move to straddle him, resting your legs on either side of his hips and leaning your chin on his sternum so you can really look at him. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

He scoffs. “Quite the opposite.”

“Even if I want to live inside your chest?”

“If I could make that happen, I would.” He runs a hand through your hair, tugging gently at the knots. 

You smile at him. “I’d let you live in mine and use my lungs as your personal trampoline.” 

Simon chuckles a beautiful sound to you and lets his hand rest on your hips. “I would be honored.” 

You trace patterns on his chest, huffing. “I just want to live in you.” 

“Unfortunately, you’ll just have to settle for my dick in you.”

You purse your lips from on top of him. “I guess that’ll do.”

Gaz:

You set your phone on the bedside table, lying on your side to look at your boyfriend. He was shirtless, with nothing but his briefs on in bed. Your eyes trace up and down him, taking in all the curves of his muscles and the lines of his abs to the slight stubble of a beard and the downward slope of his nose. God, he was so pretty. 

As if on cue, he turns to look at you. “What?” He murmurs in that voice of his. Kind, but a hint of grit to it. He made it so easy for your thoughts to run wild. You wanted to have his kids. See his eyes in them, the curve of his nose. Actually, scratch that you wanted—“I wanna get you pregnant,” You blurt out. 

Kyle laughs, loud. He isn’t sure he quite heard you correctly. He hopes he did, but then again, you did have a knack for breaking silence with something worth talking about. “What?” 

“I wanna get you pregnant,” You repeat. 

He stills, staring at you and how your face is unwavering. He’s not quite sure what to make of that sentence. He stares at you, your lips pursed in thought and eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief. “That’s simply not possible.” 

“I know,” You said. “But I just want to be able to like fuck you for once.” 

“Oh my god.” 

You shake your head, suddenly aware of how unhinged you sound. But that’s just what Kyle did to you. You were downright obsessed with him. Everything about him made your thoughts melt into a pile of mush and goo. One look at him had you practically reeling. You couldn’t fathom how he was real and yours, nonetheless. “Sorry! You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s like I need to bend you ov—,” 

“Babe,” He cuts you off. “Okay! I get it.” 

“No, but like—,"

He raises his brows at you. “It’s not biologically possible.” He restates, emphasizing that he was not letting that happen and neither was the world. Thank god, he thinks. 

You flop down onto your back on the bed with a groan. “So unfair. We should be like seahorses.” 

Kyle hums, choosing to humor you. “Uh-huh, sorry babe.” 

“I’m just so obsessed with you. I have so many feelings I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” 

Kyle’s hand traces up and down your arm. “Well, we could start with not getting me pregnant.” He moves to situate himself on top of you, pressing his nose into your neck. “But maybe there’s a compromise here, hm?” He kisses the soft skin, and once again, your brain melts into nothing. He was so good to you. He made it easy for you to forget everything in the world but his name on your tongue. So you couldn’t get him pregnant. There was a better idea ahead. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Soap: 

You sat at the table next to Johnny, coffee in hand. You both sit in silence, observing the people passing by on the street. You make note of a man frantically texting on his phone, a little girl chasing after a bird, a couple clinging on to each other. 

People watching. A favorite pastime for the two of you. 

You watch as a girl walks by, her gaze lingering on your boyfriend a second longer than you’d like. Her eyes rake up and down his figure, and she pulls out her phone, no doubt texting someone. 

You turn to Johnny, who’s oblivious to it. “I’m going to fucking kill her.”

His head snaps towards you. “What, love?” 

“That girl,” You gesture with your head. “I’m going to kill her.” 

“Why?” 

“She looked at you.” 

Your boyfriend nearly spits out his coffee. “So you’re gonna kill her?” 

You glare at him. “That’s merciful.” 

“Oh really?” He jests you. 

You nod your head, setting down your coffee and pulling out your phone. “If I really wanted to fuck with her, then I could find her home address and slightly misplace all the objects in her flat and watch her go insane.”

Johnny stares at you, concern etched into his face. His eyes sweep your face for any ounce of joke, but he knows you’renot. He always wanted a possessive girlfriend. “You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy about you,” You correct. “If I ever see anyone look at you like that again, I’m going to call an airstrike on them.” 

He grabs your hands. “Love, you never have to worry about anyone else.”

“I don’t worry. They should worry. If they wanna stare, then they can stare at the ceiling before I gouge their eyes out.” 

Johnny sighs. He loves you, truly. But to say you weren’t sometimes a little unhinged was an understatement. You always had a jealous streak about you, it’s what initially drew him in. That fire he saw in your eyes, dangerous but beckoning him closer. The idea of a possessive girlfriend really did turn him on. It was just moments like these that he wished he could carry around a giant sign that said “Please don’t look at me unless you wanna die.” 

“You’re something else, you know?” He asked, running his thumb over your knuckles. 

You melt a little at the gesture, and he can see your shoulders relax. “You’re mine.” 

He presses a quick kiss to your lips. “True, and you never have to do that. So please stop threatening random people on the street in public.” 

You smile at him. He was so sweet. “You’ll never find a bitch crazier than me, baby.” 

“I never want to,” Johnny insists. “Though, you can show me crazy in a different way…” 

You can see his eyes sparkling with something and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands. “Let’s go home.” 

Price:

You’re sat next to Price on the couch. He’s got a hand slung over your shoulder, keeping you close as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. He was warm, a giant teddy bear covered in rippling muscles. His beard scratches the top of your head, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, you love the feeling of it when you’re kissing. The soft pinch of his hair against your face. 

But honestly, you loved everything about him. There wasn’t one thing about him you could dislike. Well, maybe that he was gone so long sometimes. In reality, it just made you want him more though. It created special moments like this, where you knew time was futile. 

You sigh, playing with the hairs of his beard. You feel like them against your fingertips, pinching and prodding. 

You gaze up at your husband, his blue eyes focused on the screen and dark lashes contrasting with his pale skin. 

“Honey,” You murmur.

He hums, looking down at you. “Yes?” 

You cock your head at him. “I want to take your beard hair and make it into matching sweaters for us.” 

Price, unfazed by most things, is fazed by this. He could take a bullet, and wouldn’t flinch at a grenade or a gun pointed at his face. But that. 

That was a sentence he wasn’t sure how to unpack. 

“What?” He asked. 

You giggle a little. “You know, the clippings in the bathroom. What if I started collecting them to make a sweater?” 

Price nods, humoring you. “Darling, please don’t do that.” 

“Why not?” You pout, sticking out your bottom limit. 

“That would be itchy,” He insists. “My beard is already itchy enough. You don’t want to wear it too.” 

You don’t, he’s right. You just wanted to say something to see his face contort. He was so comfortable around you that it made it easy to catch him off guard. And really, a part of you was that obsessed with him. 

“Fair point, I suppose,” You concede. 

He’s surprised you surrender so easily. “You don’t already have a collection going, do you?” 

You laugh, patting his chest. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

He pauses. “No, I would not.” You snuggle closer to him, going back to playing with his beard. His arm drops to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “You’re insane, my dear.” 

You grin up at him, planting a kiss on his lips. “In more ways than one.” 

Price kisses you back, sneaking his hands under your shirt and higher. “Amen.” 

He was never religious, but that man did get on his knees for you.

-- END --

Read more, HERE. Never wanna miss a fic? Join HERE.

🏷 taglist: @trxpslxt @looking1016 @the-kakawshi-bird

[triptanite]

Headcanons: night routines, cuddles, and sleeping positions with the companions

it's done! we did it! enjoy :3

Pairings: Reader X (Alphabetical) (Astarion - Gale - Halsin - Karlach - Laezel - Minthara - Shadowheart - Wyll) (Gortash - Raphael - Rolan)

Content warning/s: none

MASTERLIST

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Headcanons below

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The Companions (Alphabetical)

ASTARION

Something that may surprise you is Astarion's preference for personal space when he sleeps. Given how enthusiastically he pursues you early on (and his reasons for doing so), you thought that he would be clinging to your side as soon as your tent flap closed.

Instead however, you find that Astarion appreciates a very active goodnight cuddle before separating to sleep. You're both lying down on your sides, facing each other. Your bodies curl into one another, legs overlapping. Astarion traces over the silhouette of your body as you talk about your day, the softest touch of his fingertips bringing goosebumps to your skin. He hovers over the area where neck meets shoulder, lightly scarred from his previous feedings.

You rest your hand comfortably at his side, taking advantage of his stillness to really study his features. The smile lines in his pale skin, the length of his pointed ears, the sliver of collarbone under his shirt. He's constantly on the move during the day, so you drink in the details while you can. He debriefs to you as well, moving his hand to interlace his fingers with yours. His body is cool, and you notice his tendency to press up closer to you on to sap your body heat.

Once it's time for sleep, you untangle from each other and sleep pretty normally. He's not much of a sleep-snuggler. Though, with your nightly conversations you're not left necessarily wanting for more (not that you mind either way). You sleep in your regular position, and he on his back in the typical elven meditative pose. It's comfortable, safe, familiar.

GALE

Your nightly routine with Gale revolves around a lot of tending to the day's wounds and mishaps, paired with a constant flurry of comfortable conversation. A tear in your trousers gets patched up while staffs are cleaned and reinforced. Adjustments for tomorrow's spells are made, trails are planned. Gale sifts through your alchemy pouches, answering your questions about herb origins with gusto. You move as a unit, like two gears in the same machine. As you move about, there are other conversations occuring, subtle ones, silent ones. Gale presses his forehead to yours to stop you from scowling as you mend; you hand him bits of twine and leather as he passes by, knowing that he's looking for them.

Even as you lie together, there is movement. You're tucked under Gale's chin as he lays on his back. If you're quite still, you can feel his pulse in his neck. Gale busies his ever-moving hands by drawing on your back. Alchameic symbols, runes he's seen, trails you've walked. He illustrates his thoughts and your adventures, your body his canvas.

When you start to fall asleep, you'll wriggle your body down so that your temple rests atop his chest. He traces the curve of your neck to your shoulder. Gale switches to words, messily writing incantations over your skin like a tattoo. If you pay attention, you catch him writing 'I love you' over and over, but you elect not to say anything as he does. Before you tuck your arm around his side, you trace love hearts over his stomach. Your head over his heart, you feel it beat a little faster, then slow as you both fall asleep.

HALSIN

Halsin enjoys being present. He drinks in the sight of you slowly, revels in the ability to simply take his time. After living such a long life lived already and the turmoil of the Shadow-Cursed Lands, he has an even greater appreciation for the smaller things in life. You've not lived quite as long as he, but you've already seen and done more than seemingly entire villages of people. Time and circumstance has worn you both down to a point. Resilience bounces you back, but a healthy regular dose of affection helps too.

At night, you both sit close to the fire. Halsin whittles, chipping away slivers of wood to carve out tiny pieces of art. He looks up, stretching his neck, and watches you as you map the stars above. You scrawl over maps and spare parchment, trying to write and doodle down your memories lest you forget them. When you look over to Halsin, your eyes meet, and you chuckle a little being caught off guard.

Taking you by the hand, Halsin leads you to your shared tent. You undress him, taking your time to smooth his hair back, to run your nails over his biceps. He returns the favour, cupping your curves with his large palms, spreading warmth all throughout your body. He lays on his side in the bedroll, one arm bent and tucked under his head. You use this as a pillow, enjoying his scent so close; wood and musk. Halsins free arm drapes over your midsection to pull you in closer. You push your knee through his legs and you slot together like puzzle pieces. You begin to talk about your latest mapping, your need for more parchment, and plans for tomorrow. Halsin kisses you on the forehead, entire being relaxed. You'll sleep squished together like this, encompassed by heat and comfort.

KARLACH

Cuddle supreme. You bet that once that engine is pacified enough to touch that Mama K is all over you like green on grass.

Prior to this, Karlach was sure (if not overly cautious) about maintaining a healthy distance between you. She was excessively worried about setting you ablaze during the night, and often opted to sleep just outside of her tent while you claimed her bedroll inside. Her claims of worry were partially genuine, but she also enjoyed how you left her tent. The smell you lingered on her sheets, and you often left little things behind like a water canteen or a book you'd been reading.

Once her engine was quelled though, the things she imagined could finally come to fruition. You often cuddle facing each other, changing positions like the moon over the sky. Most comfortably, Karlach settles her head under your chin, face pressed up against your neck and chest. Her arms wrap all the way around your middle, her legs crossing over yours. You curl both arms around her head, trying to leave enough room for her to breathe, and use your free hand to run through her hair. When you start gently scratching over her scalp, you get a snoring Karlach in an instant.

You find that you need to leave the tent flap partially open to vent out some of the warmth; even the most frigid nights are no match for Karlach's body heat. With how impossibly close you're smooshed together, there's little room for the cold to find you anyway.

LAEZEL

Given her dedication towards training and being the youngest in the group, it shouldn't be a surprise that Laezel is quite inexperienced when it comes to affection. Before she met you, and even during, quiet intimacy is somewhat foreign. When you first explained what cuddling was, Laezel thought it was some kind of defensive grapple.

When you both settle for the evening, you find yourselves prepping in comfortable silence for the days ahead. Laezel counts rations and sharpens blades. You condition leather and secure packs. Sometimes, she admires you silently as you focus on your tasks. She smiles to herself at your willingness to help, your competence, she feels security in your choosing her as a partner. Once it's time to settle into your bedrolls, you spend a few precious moments facing each other. She grips your hands in hers and studies your face. She stares with such intensity that it's like she's trying to commit every freckle and line to memory forever. There is some truth to this. When she closes her eyes in peaceful moments, she meditates on the things in her life that bring her joy; her accomplishments, her goals, and you, her partner.

Laezel most often sleeps on her back, leaving her more ready to react to ambushes in the night. She refuses to let go of one of your hands though, with you acting as a kind of anchor for her. Laezel's mind is constantly buzzing with what's to come next, reflecting on what's already happened. It's rare, and precious to her, to indulge in quiet moments of care.

MINTHARA

For practical reasons, Minthana rarely falls asleep with her limbs restricted - it's much harder to stab an intruder if one of your arms is cuddled under your lover. A light sleeper, Minthana doesn't mind sleeping on her side with you. She enjoys being the big spoon, and is certain to let you know that it's not solely because of the protective factor as she deems you just as capable as she (though internally, there's certainly a reflexive protective factor at play here).

Before you sleep, Minthana will curl around you, pressing the entire front of her body to your back. She commits your scent to memory, and recalls the days events aloud. You hold one of her hands in both of yours, mostly paying attention. She enjoys the way you massage her hands, rubbing your thumbs against her wrist, testing the sharpness of her nails against your skin.

When it's time to sleep, Minthana untangles from you, laying on her back or side. She likes to know that you're there though, so she crosses one of her legs over yours in some way. Her ankle rests over yours, or your thigh against her hip, or even just your heels touching each other. Enough closeness to feel your presence, enough space to breathe freely.

SHADOWHEART

You and Shadowheart vary your nighttime routines. Most times, you'll be engaging in mutual and self care, reflecting on the day, prayer, and washing. You offer to brush through Shadowheart's hair, carefully working through knots and bumps and smoothing it into something comfortable to sleep in. The feeling sends tingles down her spine, and she shivers like a cat purring, feeling sleepier and sleepier. She, in return, examines your hands. She cleans over them with a warm washcloth, applying healing balms and ointments to your cuts and bruises, filing your nails to shape.

You both spend time setting and resetting your shared bed space. Being adventurers, and with Shadowheart's past, you're used to moving around often. Your bedroll, your belongings, everything is set up ready to pack at a moment's notice. Though, if you take the time you notice small personal touches that make it feel like yours. A dense hairbrush adorned in silver, Shadowheart's. A thick, hand-woven blanket made in fibre native to your home, yours.

When you begin to collapse from exhaustion, more often than not Shadowheart will settle in behind you. You don't mind being the little spoon, indulging in Shadowheart's body heat and mindlessly playing with her fingers in yours. Shadowheart enjoys pressing her face to the back of your neck, sharing your body heat. She feels somewhat protective of you in the night. Quietly, she worries every now and again that something in the dark will take you away forever. You sense that fear sometimes, the way she drifts off in thought before squeezing you a little tighter. It's a feeling you're not unfamiliar with. She falls asleep to the sound of your voice as you tell her of your adventures past. She dreams of your adventures together in the future; this is something you have in common.

WYLL

Wyll enjoys holding you close basically any chance he gets, and bedtime is no exception. You both keep a reasonable distance while doing simultaneous night routines: Wyll polishes and stores your days' weapons, you pack and prep bags for the next day. As you flit past each other, there are subtle passing touches. A lingering glance at your exposed shoulder, the tips of your fingers grazing against his night clothes. Some are less so, you rake your fingers over his hair and horns, pressing your faces together. Or he'll stand behind you as you wipe down your face, body pressed impossibily close to yours. He teases you about the blush that crawls up your neck.

As you lay together, Wyll finds that sleeping on his back with some tactically stacked pillows works best for his horns. You rest your head at his collarbones, holding his hand. It calms you to feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes, and you never pass up an opportunity to ask him about his seemingly endless adventurous stories. Wyll watches you doodle on his palm, his other hand holds you at your waist, occasionally slipping his hand under your nightshirt to caress your skin.

Lying on your side, you fold your leg over his. You relish in how he squirms slightly depending on where your thigh ends up. Revenge. Most nights, you both fall asleep just like this in each other's embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows and a light blanket, you fall into warmth. Comfort in the night that takes you away from the horrors of the day.

Bonus!

NPCs (Alphabetical)

GORTASH

Routine is something both you and Gortash appreciate but rarely achieve with your busy schedules. If Gortash gets a moment at home, you're out in combat. If you come back at a reasonable hour, he's in meeting after meeting. The one thing you try in earnest to maintain though is a nightly routine when your times do align.

You both debrief and undress, spewing out the stress of the day with little regard for whether it makes sense or how many tangents you go off on. Gortash stands at your back as you sit in front of your vanity. He loosens your hair while you clean your wounds, chuckling about the injuries you'd inflicted in reply. You take Gortash's hand in yours and sit him down on the mattress. You run your fingers over his temples and he melts like snow. His muscles are tight as you massage over his neck, his shoulders, leaving light scratch marks over his skin.

In bed, you both lie on your sides, facing the window. The night sky casts the dimmest light into your room, the air outside is quiet and still. There is respite here. You curl around Gortash's back, spooning him as he clutches your hands tight in his. This is your routine, your normalcy. Here, neither of you are bloodstained, neither are performing. Comfort is a strange and rare indulgence in your plights to take over the world; but whether here in your chambers, in a bedroll camping in the forest, or in a jail cell, it's the one thing you can find in each other.

RAPHAEL

Raphael is fond of studying you, examining every inch, every curve of your being with all the patience in the Hells. He's currently asked you to pose for a portrait, draped loosely along a red velvet chaise while the light of the outside world shines just right over your body. It's difficult to catch your face, your eyes especially, in paint. Raphael finds your eye contact far too inviting to concentrate for another quiet hour, so he ceases.

Placing his brushes down, you sit up and crack your neck. You stretch the stiffness from your limbs and extend your hands out to encourage Raphael to join you. He kicks off his dress shoes, climbing atop you with his knee inbetween your legs. His spine curves as he lowers down, lips brushing over your ear as he embraces you.

With some effort, you wrap your arms around him, smothered by warmth and the faint scent of sulphur. You do get used to it after a while. An open window allows a gentle breeze in the room, slowly drying the paint. The light diffuses through sheer curtains, and it makes you sleepy. Time is confusing and unruly here, but you crave a lazy afternoon (at least, that's how it feels) nap. Stroking the back of Raphael's hair, you relax back and close your eyes. Despite his reservations, Raphael soon joins you. His face stays buried against your neck, every breath embued with your smell. You're surrounded by each other, neither of you especially keen to move away.

ROLAN

Finding a place to sleep in Ramazith's Tower wasn't the difficult part, choosing where to sleep was. For the first few weeks, you and Rolan explored a great depth, you'd never climbed so many stairs and walked so many invisible platforms in your life.

One night, you'd decided rather adventurously to sleep up high on a balcony. You'd made a nest of sorts with Rolan, harvesting pillows and blankets and a mattress. The weather was clear and mild as the sky slowly turned to black. Rolan had set up approximately four hundred fail safes to ensure neither of you would fall in your sleep.

You both huddle down into the swathes of fabric. You remark to Rolan how different this was to the camps you'd slept in when you met him, or the Emerald Grove where he and his siblings had stayed. You face each other, legs interlocking, and Rolan places both hands on either side of your face. He remarks that it's to keep you warm but the air has barely a chill. You shift slightly to point out constellations in the sky, and Rolan's hands move downward and settle at your sides. He plays with the hem of your nightshirt, eyes affixed to wherever you point and gesture. The spell of night overtakes you both, and you fall asleep with your foreheads pressed lightly together.

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waa we did it gamers my first multi character piece!! Originally this was supposed to be a short and sweet dotpoint-style headcanons post but apparently I can't help myself. Because of how many characters there were to write and because I'm me it took a little longer than expected but I'm really happy

I've been committing myself to doing even just a little tiny bit of writing/creative stuff every day (with some gaps obvs I'm only human) and I gotta say it really does help

so if you're reading this, go write something. Or draw, or edit, or whatever but just do a little bit of something today. its good for the soul

take care! :3

[cho-aaacho]

One kiss isn't enough

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi and Choso

Masterlist

Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru adores wrapping his arms around your curves from behind, inhaling the intoxicating floral scent of your neck. He loses himself in your charm, finding you utterly irresistible, and he never tires of telling you so, each confession accompanied by a mischievous giggle curling on his lips.

He loves to plant tender kisses on your jawline, making you chuckle playfully. Sometimes, he gives small, gentle bites, subtly marking you as his own and expressing that every part of him belongs to you alone, drawing you deeper into his realm.

Your soft whimpers of his name during a kiss drive him wild, showing your desire, love, and fantasy, allowing him to do more than just kiss. He relishes stealing soft kisses in public, trying to shock everyone with his playful actions. You know these are not forceful—just tender pecks from his moist lips. How could you resist?

After a long night at work, he invites you to join him in the bath, sharing the warmth of the water and the sweetness of pink blossom soap. Even though you've seen each other naked countless times since you started dating, bathing together always feels different—more intimate, more vulnerable.

Gojo's gentle touch on your back, his soft chuckle when he does so, his tender lips grazing your shoulder, admiring you from behind—all feel like intimate secrets shared between lovers. As he closes his eyes, he places a small yet sensual kiss on your neck, calming you with his sudden move.

A faint blush adorns his porcelain cheeks as he whispers, "...need it? My dear, I don't 'need' anything. I want you."

Geto Suguru

Geto Suguru creates a comfortable atmosphere with his kisses, leaving you yearning for more with each touch of his lips. Sometimes, during kisses, he slips in compliments or love lines, telling you how beautiful you are, how sweet you are, and how happy he is to be around you.

His gestures are gentle; he loves cupping your face, gazing into your eyes, and locking his love with yours. His fingers trace the delicate curve of your jawline, enveloping you in an embrace that feels like coming home. He brushes his nose with yours, planting a gentle peck along with a playful bite on your earlobe as a final flourish.

He's like honeydew on a summer's day—irresistibly sweet, leaving you intoxicated with his charm until you're drunk on his affection. With your foreheads pressed together in the aftermath of a kiss, his soft breath dances across your skin, a gentle caress that leaves you longing for more.

Warmth radiates from him, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. His breath feels like a familiar aroma, and sometimes he'll squeeze your soft body gently, eliciting a slight moan as your cheeks flush rosily. He giggles playfully before stealing another kiss on your neck, relishing the sensation of your vulnerability in his hands.

With a playful yet seductive smirk, he teases, "That wasn't so bad now, was it? How about something else? I know you want it right now."

Nanami Kento 

People might think Nanami Kento isn't a romantic man. His reserved demeanor and serious disposition might seem boring to some, but he shows his true self to you, and you are privileged to see this side of him.

He showers you with sweet, endearing words, telling you that you are the reason he lives, the only person he loves. He kisses you tenderly, embraces you gently in bed, rubs your face with his warm fingers, and traces your jawline with small, affectionate bites.

He finds immense joy in seeing your sleeping figure beside him, watching you cook breakfast, or being cared for when he's sick. He couldn't stop admiring you, slipping sweet words into your sleep every morning before placing a small kiss on your nose.

As a token of his affection, he kisses your cheek before going to work, saying, "My morning dew, I hope you have a beautiful day."

Fushiguro Megumi

Fushiguro Megumi loves to steal kisses from you, claiming every part of you as his, making it clear that you belong only to him. When he finally steals a kiss, he places a small yet sweet one between your cheek and jawline, giggling at your reaction and saying you're as red as a cherry blossom and sweet as a melon, trapping you in his embrace.

In response, you'll pinch his cheek, laugh, or playfully punch him every time he tries to steal a kiss. He knows you're only pretending to be mad and that, deep down, you crave more kisses from him.

When it comes to kisses, he loves to kiss the tip of your nose and often gives you multiple soft kisses on your lips. He avoids bites because he doesn't want to hurt you. 

Passionate yet reserved, he lets you put your arm around his neck while savoring the sweetness of his lips. Though he always denies his passion, it's clear he's just too shy to admit it.

Despite his mischievous nature, he tries to restrain himself from kissing you when he's with Yuuji and Nobara, convincing himself he's not very passionate. But you know very well that he's just being tsundere.

Choso

Despite his aloofness, he can be incredibly romantic and affectionate. When he kisses you, it’s always a tender softness, so sweet that you can't remember your name.

Sometimes, you catch the sweet murmur of your name between the kiss or a quiet hum escaping his sweet mouth, accompanied by a soft moan as your tongues intertwine.

There are moments when he chuckles between kisses, his eyes brimming with emotion, his cheeks flushed, and he is rendered speechless. Yet he cherishes every reaction you give, and while gently brushing your neck as he deepens the kiss, he still manages to tell you that small kisses aren’t enough for him. 

He needs more of you... because you're his alone.

Of course, he kisses you only when you're alone with him, away from the distractions of his brothers. Not wanting to be distracted by the teasing comments from Mahito or the disapproving remarks from Jogo. The two could be annoying sometimes.

[xoxoangelllcake]

“Let go”

warnings: soft smut,dom Caitlyn Kiramman, dom Vi, dom Maddie Nolan, sub Y/N, use of strap on, Cait, Vi and Maddie giving,f receiving, vaginal penetration, foursome, and lesbian sex.

The night was electric with the hum of the city as the neon lights flickered in the streets below. The crisp air of Piltover was laced with excitement—and more intimate desires. Y/N had always been drawn to the rush of being an enforcer. Working alongside Vi and Caitlyn, she found herself tangled in a world filled with adrenaline, danger, and a hint of promise lingering just beneath the surface.

Tonight, however, the trio was off-duty and the weight of their roles melted away as they gathered in Caitlyn's elegantly decorated apartment hidden high above the bustling streets. Soft music floated through the room, setting an alluring atmosphere. Y/N throbbed with anticipation as she looked at the two women who had quickly filled both her professional and personal life with fervor.

Vi stood with her arms crossed, a mischievous grin lighting up her tattooed face. "Ready for some fun, ladies?" she quipped, her playful smirk igniting a spark in Y/N's core. 

Caitlyn, with her poised demeanor and captivating beauty, stepped closer, but not before casting a knowing glance at Y/N. "I think we’re going to indulge in something a little more… intense tonight," she purred, arching an eyebrow as she approached, her fingers trailing lightly along Y/N's arm.

Y/N flushed, her heart racing as her pulse quickened. She loved the way Vi and Caitlyn paired their bold personalities with moments of soft tenderness, especially when it came to her. Maddie had joined the two, her commanding presence adding to the heat in the room. As a fellow enforcer, she understood passion but brought an edge that left Y/N in awe.

"Y/N," Maddie drawled, her voice low and sultry, drawing Y/N's attention. "You’ve always followed our lead, but tonight, let's flip the script." Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she produced a strap-on from behind her back, its sleek design shimmering under the ambient lights.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she felt both exhilarated and submissive—a mix that made her pulse race faster. "Are you sure?" she stammered, her cheeks rosy under their scrutiny.

Caitlyn knelt before her, tender but firm. "You’re always so strong, Y/N. Give yourself permission to let go. Let us take care of you." The gentle tug at Y/N’s heartstrings was enough to push her forward.

In a flurry of movement, the three women surrounded her, each brushing hands along her arms, tracing the curves of her body, giving her the warmth she craved. Vi pressed forward, capturing Y/N’s lips with hers, the kiss igniting fireworks in her gut. The kiss was fiery and deep, filled with tongues tangling—the taste of Vi pushing Y/N over the edge.

Caitlyn and Maddie joined their energies, kissing along Y/N’s shoulders, leaving trails of warmth that made her shiver. "Such pretty skin," Caitlyn whispered, her fingertips tracing Y/N’s collarbone, sending shivers down her spine.

Maddie, with her strategic precision, helped Y/N out of her clothing, revealing her soft curves and delicate features. "Absolutely stunning," Maddie said with an appreciative grin, her voice low and commanding. 

Vi grinned, eyes glinting with lust as she wrapped an arm around Y/N, pulling her close once more. "We can’t wait, can we? Let’s give her what she deserves."

As Maddie slid the strap-on into place, Y/N's body tingled with anticipation. She looked at the three women who surrounded her—each powerful in their own right, yet united in this moment of intimate exploration.

The teasing began slowly, with gentle touches and soft encouragement. Y/N surrendered to their desires, lost in the beauty of each kiss and caress, allowing herself to drift. Vi was the first to take her time, her movements deliberate as she teased Y/N just to the edge of pleasure before pulling away, letting the anticipation build further.

Caitlyn soon joined, her hands gliding along Y/N’s shapely curves, her voice a soothing balm, whispering sweet nothings amidst moans and encouragement. "You’re doing so well, Y/N," she breathed, eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched Y/N squirm under their attention.

Maddie finally stood behind Y/N, securing her arms, bringing her close. "Are you ready for us?" she murmured, voice heavy with promise. Y/N nodded, breath hitching in excitement and lust.

“One, two…” Maddie counted down before plunging in deep, eliciting a cry from Y/N as her body instinctively arched in response. "Let go, babe," Maddie coaxed, thrusting with precision as their rhythm synchronized, each movement intensifying the bliss coursing through Y/N.

Vi and Caitlyn took turns kissing her deeply, each touch igniting hotter embers of desire. The room thrummed with shared breaths, the world outside forgotten beneath a haze of pleasure.

With every thrust, every caress, Y/N surrendered completely, losing herself in the passion that poured over her. Each woman shared conspiratorial glances filled with heat, knowing that this moment was not just theirs but a shared experience crafted among four souls entwined in passion.

Together, they built a crescendo—each pulling Y/N to heights she had only dreamed of as they whispered sweet encouragements, stitching deeper connections into their bond.

As Y/N teetered on that precipice of release, she could feel the overwhelming desire in the air, threading through their shared bodies, pushing her further. Sparks ignited with each motion until finally, the wheels of ecstasy clicked into place.

“Let go with us, Y/N,” Vi urged, fingers entwined in Y/N’s hair, giving her a grounding tether as the world swirled in delight.

With a shattering moan, Y/N surrendered to the waves crashing over her, and in that moment, they were all lost together as stars exploded in their shared darkness.

As the energy settled, Y/N lay amidst her lovers, limbs tangled, each breath mingling in the afterglow. They had crossed the threshold, stepping beyond the bounds of duty into a world of intimate freedom, knowing this was merely the beginning of countless adventures they would share together.

In the heart of Piltover, four souls intertwined in a dance of power, beauty, and the magical embrace of one another.

The night was electric with the hum of the city as the neon lights flickered in the streets below. The crisp air of Piltover was laced with excitement—and more intimate desires. Y/N had always been drawn to the rush of being an enforcer. Working alongside Vi and Caitlyn, she found herself tangled in a world filled with adrenaline, danger, and a hint of promise lingering just beneath the surface.

Tonight, however, the trio was off-duty and the weight of their roles melted away as they gathered in Caitlyn's elegantly decorated apartment hidden high above the bustling streets. Soft music floated through the room, setting an alluring atmosphere. Y/N throbbed with anticipation as she looked at the two women who had quickly filled both her professional and personal life with fervor.

Vi stood with her arms crossed, a mischievous grin lighting up her tattooed face. "Ready for some fun, ladies?" she quipped, her playful smirk igniting a spark in Y/N's core. 

Caitlyn, with her poised demeanor and captivating beauty, stepped closer, but not before casting a knowing glance at Y/N. "I think we’re going to indulge in something a little more… intense tonight," she purred, arching an eyebrow as she approached, her fingers trailing lightly along Y/N's arm.

Y/N flushed, her heart racing as her pulse quickened. She loved the way Vi and Caitlyn paired their bold personalities with moments of soft tenderness, especially when it came to her. Maddie had joined the two, her commanding presence adding to the heat in the room. As a fellow enforcer, she understood passion but brought an edge that left Y/N in awe.

"Y/N," Maddie drawled, her voice low and sultry, drawing Y/N's attention. "You’ve always followed our lead, but tonight, let's flip the script." Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she produced a strap-on from behind her back, its sleek design shimmering under the ambient lights.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she felt both exhilarated and submissive—a mix that made her pulse race faster. "Are you sure?" she stammered, her cheeks rosy under their scrutiny.

Caitlyn knelt before her, tender but firm. "You’re always so strong, Y/N. Give yourself permission to let go. Let us take care of you." The gentle tug at Y/N’s heartstrings was enough to push her forward.

In a flurry of movement, the three women surrounded her, each brushing hands along her arms, tracing the curves of her body, giving her the warmth she craved. Vi pressed forward, capturing Y/N’s lips with hers, the kiss igniting fireworks in her gut. The kiss was fiery and deep, filled with tongues tangling—the taste of Vi pushing Y/N over the edge.

Caitlyn and Maddie joined their energies, kissing along Y/N’s shoulders, leaving trails of warmth that made her shiver. "Such pretty skin," Caitlyn whispered, her fingertips tracing Y/N’s collarbone, sending shivers down her spine.

Maddie, with her strategic precision, helped Y/N out of her clothing, revealing her soft curves and delicate features. "Absolutely stunning," Maddie said with an appreciative grin, her voice low and commanding. 

Vi grinned, eyes glinting with lust as she wrapped an arm around Y/N, pulling her close once more. "We can’t wait, can we? Let’s give her what she deserves."

As Maddie slid the strap-on into place, Y/N's body tingled with anticipation. She looked at the three women who surrounded her—each powerful in their own right, yet united in this moment of intimate exploration.

The teasing began slowly, with gentle touches and soft encouragement. Y/N surrendered to their desires, lost in the beauty of each kiss and caress, allowing herself to drift. Vi was the first to take her time, her movements deliberate as she teased Y/N just to the edge of pleasure before pulling away, letting the anticipation build further.

Caitlyn soon joined, her hands gliding along Y/N’s shapely curves, her voice a soothing balm, whispering sweet nothings amidst moans and encouragement. "You’re doing so well, Y/N," she breathed, eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched Y/N squirm under their attention.

Maddie finally stood behind Y/N, securing her arms, bringing her close. "Are you ready for us?" she murmured, voice heavy with promise. Y/N nodded, breath hitching in excitement and lust.

Maddie breathed in before plunging in deep, eliciting a cry from Y/N as her body instinctively arched in response. "Let go, babe," Maddie coaxed, thrusting with precision as their rhythm synchronized, each movement intensifying the bliss coursing through Y/N.

Vi and Caitlyn took turns kissing her deeply, each touch igniting hotter embers of desire. The room thrummed with shared breaths, the world outside forgotten beneath a haze of pleasure.

With every thrust, every caress, Y/N surrendered completely, losing herself in the passion that poured over her. Each woman shared conspiratorial glances filled with heat, knowing that this moment was not just theirs but a shared experience crafted among four souls entwined in passion.

Together, they built a crescendo—each pulling Y/N to heights she had only dreamed of as they whispered sweet encouragements, stitching deeper connections into their bond.

As Y/N teetered on that precipice of release, she could feel the overwhelming desire in the air, threading through their shared bodies, pushing her further. Sparks ignited with each motion until finally, the wheels of ecstasy clicked into place.

“Let go with us, Y/N,” Vi urged, fingers entwined in Y/N’s hair, giving her a grounding tether as the world swirled in delight.

With a shattering moan, Y/N surrendered to the waves crashing over her, and in that moment, they were all lost together as stars exploded in their shared darkness.

As the energy settled, Y/N lay amidst her lovers, limbs tangled, each breath mingling in the afterglow. They had crossed the threshold, stepping beyond the bounds of duty into a world of intimate freedom, knowing this was merely the beginning of countless adventures they would share together.

In the heart of Piltover, four souls intertwined in a dance of power, beauty, and the magical embrace of one another.

[fioredeciliego]

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. 

Oh

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.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

My Valentine - Rafe Cameron Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

Older!Rafe x Girlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

warnings: swearing, pet names, fingering, rafe and the reader watch their porno

📖 What do you get the man who has everything on Valentine’s Day?

✨ “You want your gift, daddy?

“This is enough, truly,” he mumbles as he slides your bra straps off your shoulders. “But I’m a greedy man, honey. Let me have it.” ✨

800 words

Reader’s POV:

Valentine’s Day… What do you get your boyfriend? The man who has everything and anything he’s ever wanted, including you.

You pass him the little gift bag, watching his eyes sparkle as he takes it in, knowing he’ll most likely get something shiny purchased on his card. He humors you sweetly nonetheless, giving you that smile that makes your heart race a little faster.

His eyebrows pinch together as he pulls out the flash drive. “What do we have here?” He eyes the little device in his large palm, his curiosity peaks, turning the faux surprise genuine. He looks down at you, waiting for your response, but you simply shrug and giggle. “Alright. Alright. Let’s see what my girl got me. Yeah?”

He whisks you off your kitten-heeled feet, taking you into his arms, walking down the long hallways of Tanneyhill to his master bedroom. You let out a little gasp as you take everything in, the usual gifts and flowers, but Rafe loves how excited you get each time, regardless.

“Rafey…” You coo, making the high-points of his cheeks blush as you fawn over his sweetness and how well he takes care of you.

“Daddy’s always got you. You know that, princess,” he hums, dressing your new Tiffany necklace around your throat as he kisses his way to your ear. “Can’t wait to see what you got me, baby girl.”

“Why don’t you get comfortable? And I’ll go put something on,” you whisper onto his lips, to which he happily obliges.

You stroll over to the nightstand, littered with gifts purchased by Rafe, eyeing the lingerie sets.

“Somethin’ pink, princess,” he aids.

You change quickly, slipping into the matching silk robe before stepping into your heels again. Snagging the flash drive, you pop it into the tv, sauntering toward the bed as Rafe stalks your movements with a preditory stare, waiting for you to drop the delicate fabric.

His eyes are only on you for a moment before they roll back—Rafe grabbing for you fast, drawing you closer. You straddle his legs, feeling his cock, hard between your thighs.

“Tonight is going to be a good night,” he smiles, his hands drifting around to your ass, gripping tightly.

“Mmm… All night long?”

“All night long, angel. Gonna make you so dumb you forget your own name,” he chuckles raspily against your glossy lips.

“You want your gift, daddy?”

“This is enough, truly,” he mumbles as he slides your bra straps off your shoulders. “But I’m a greedy man, honey. Let me have it.”

You reach over to the nightstand, grabbing the remote, pressing play. Rafe’s eyes double with his devilish smile as he takes a rough grip on your curves. “Fuck, was this Moracco?” He rasps. “Did you record-” His voice trails off as he watches your naked body come into frame before adjusting the camera slightly, ensuring the perfect angle for him. “Holy shit. My girl looks fuckin’ good,” he moans before slapping your ass. “God damn. C’omere, princess.”

He snaps at the little band of your thong guiding you to slip it off. You finger the clasp of your bra flicking that away before relaxing your back into his muscular chest. Rafe snuggles into you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as you kiss on camera.

“Look at how good we look. Shit,” he sighs, kissing you gently on the neck, drifting up toward your ear. “My own personal pornstar,” he groans sinfully. His soft voice in your ears gives you the giggles. “Ugh… Not the giggle too. Just kill me, princess.”

He draws his hands up to your breasts, taking a hold of them, massaging them in his large palms. He circles your nipples slowly, making you whine.

“Fuck, I gotta big dick. You think she’s gonna take it all in that tight little pussy?” He taunts. Rafe’s hand drifts over your naval, lowering to your sex, his other hand resting lightly on your throat.

He massages the inside of your thighs with a heavy hand, dangerously close to where you’re craving him most. “Mmm…” you purr. He grabs your chin roughly, directing you toward his lips.

You let out an airy sigh when he slides his fingers through your folds, the tip of his ringed digits dipping in and out of your entrance. His fingers rub around your clit, small waves of pleasure with every stroke of the hand.

“We’re gonna watch this again and again,” his fingers mirror his words; a smile felt against your lips.

“Please, daddy.”

“So polite, princess. So good f’me. Look at you take my cock. Fuck m’givin’ it to you so good,“ he hums.

”So – So good,“ you pant as Rafe adds more friction. ”Just like that.“ You plead. Rafe kisses your neck roughly—your heart starts beating faster.

He lets out a wicked laugh as you repeat yourself on camera. “Yes, Rafe just like that. Fuck!” Your desperate cries come pouring out of the tv speakers. He repeats your words teasingly through kisses which only makes you wetter, the squelching of your own pussy making the video hard to hear.

”Bet you can’t wait for me to stuff you full of my cock. Hmm? Look at you beg for me. I’m ruining you, honey. Jesus fuck. N’you’re just takin’ me like the whore you are,” he grunts. Rafe adds all four fingers, his strong hands rubbing your bundle of nerves. You hit your crescendo. “That’s it, baby,” he growls. “Cum for me.”

You feel yourself pulsing, shockwaves gripping your body as you ride the waves of your orgasm. Rafe’s fingers slip along your pussy, sinking in and out of your entrance slowly, just playing with you, letting you soak in all your pleasure.

You watch yourself fall apart on camera as Rafe cums with you. The two of you reaching for air, panting and kissing between breathes as he plays with the cum slipping out of your soaked hole, before stuffing it deep inside.

He lift his finger to his lips, sucking them clean before reaching for the remote.

“Round two, princess.”

[greg-montgomery]

Aaron going through boxes of old stuff and finding a journal of yours from a long time ago. He opens it out of curiosity and reads about how your younger self always wanted to be called princess from a significant other so he tries it out along with buying a nice bouquet of flowers 🤭

Aaron’s cheeks were almost hurting by smiling all day, because he was surrounded by boxes of your belongings that would soon be all over his house. Your house.

One certain box with the word “memories” in capital letters written on it though, drew his attention. Opening it, he was met with a few books, magazines, cards, and concert tickets.

At the bottom of the box, there was a pink journal with your name decorating its cover.

It looked personal, but it also looked like it was from a long time ago. He couldn’t help it, and with his curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.

The pages were filled with pink glittery letters, little drawings, and stickers of Disney princesses and Barbie characters.

He smiled with affection while turning the pages and seeing what your younger self used to fill her journal with. He almost skipped a page when his eyes fell on the title written on top of it.

“My dream boy!”

Oh, this is gonna be interesting, he thought.

Aaron found himself competing with the ideal version of a boyfriend your teenage self had. He went through every single point you had written down, and mentally checked it.

That version of you, was still part of who you were today, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint you or not be enough.

Tall – check.

Dark hair – check.

Sweet – check, well to you at least.

Brings me flowers – check.

Calls me princess – not check.

Princess, huh? That was new.

He knew that you were big on pet names, but princess had never occurred to him before.

A smirk grew on his face. It was time to see if your tastes had changed.

--

Just the day after, Aaron made sure to visit a flower shop after work and buy your favorite flowers. If he was gonna try something, he was going to do it right.

He found you sitting on the couch, eating a bag of chips and scrolling on your phone, some show on the TV playing in the background. You left it open for company when he wasn’t there and something inside him stung a little.

“Baby?”

You threw your head back on the couch and looked up at him as he moved closer. “You’re home,” you sighed with a smile. “Missed you.”

“I did too.” He leaned down to kiss you on the lips and brought the flowers he was hiding behind his back in front of you. “That’s why I decided to get some flowers to my princess.”

Your face lightened up at the sight of the beautiful bouquet and the sound of the pet name. “Aaron!”

You stood up on the couch and threw yourself at him, hugging him with a force that could bring down a bear. “Thank you!”

“You like them, honey?”

“I love them.”

Aaron sighed at the feeling of your lips on his neck, as you left little kisses on the curve of it. “Anything for my princess.”

Your face was still hidden in the crook of his neck but Aaron could feel you laughing.

“What are the giggles for?”

“Nothing…”

He pulled back just enough so he could look at your face, and grabbed your chin softly. You averted your eyes from him as if you had something to hide.

“Y/N?”

“It’s nothing!” you insisted. “I just like to be called that,” you added quietly, playing with a button from Aaron’s shirt. You still wouldn’t look at him.

“To be called what?” he asked.

“Princess…”

“I know.” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I read it in your diary.”

“What?” you raised your voice and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I found it through your old stuff.”

“Aaron, I’m gonna kill you!”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not. You’re laughing.”

“Oh come on, it got you what you wanted.”

“Shut up,” you said , furrowing your brows.

The two of you sat on the couch and he tried to pull you into his arms. After showing resistance for a few seconds, you let him hold you.

“What else did you read?”

“I saw the whole list. About your dream guy.”

“I don’t remember adding ‘he reads my journal without permission’,” you said.

“I do have all the rest though,” he said with a cocky smile.

“You do, I guess,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “I was manifesting.”

“I hope you’re happy with the guy the universe sent you then, princess.”

“Ah…” you threw your head back with a lovesick smile. “And it's only getting better.”

[frostdayz]

Bed

Loki x reader

genre: Fluff

summary: You and loki tangled in each others arms and words while laying in bed.

note: Such a shit summary but this is just something small and loki themed because I recently read a long ass fic on ao3 that was a 10/10

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I blinked my eyes open, slowly adjusting to the brightness. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but then I felt it—the warmth, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath my cheek. I was curled up against Loki, our legs tangled together under the blankets.

I smiled to myself, savoring the rare moment of peace. Loki wasn’t exactly a morning person, and I had a feeling he was still asleep. Gently, I lifted my head to get a better look at him. His dark hair was tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead, and his face was relaxed, almost boyish in its softness. It was a side of him that few ever got to see.

Unable to resist, I reached up and brushed the stray hair away from his face. My fingers lingered, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. He stirred slightly, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Mm, what are you doing?” His voice was thick with sleep, and I couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it sounded.

“Just admiring the view,” I teased, resting my hand on his chest.

He opened one eye, peering at me with a mixture of amusement and mock annoyance. “You’re awfully chipper this morning,” he remarked, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Maybe it’s because I woke up next to you,” I replied, unable to keep the affection out of my voice.

Loki’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I let out a contented sigh, snuggling against him. “We should do this more often. Just…stay in bed, with no worries, no responsibilities. Just us.”

He hummed in agreement, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on my back. “That sounds like a perfect way to spend the day,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “But you know as well as I do that our lives are rarely that simple.”

I pouted, though I knew he was right. “Can’t we pretend, just for a little while?”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “For you, my love, I’ll pretend all day if you wish.”

I grinned, my heart swelling with warmth at his words. “Then let’s stay here forever,” I declared, burrowing deeper into his embrace.

Loki tightened his hold on me, resting his chin on top of my head. “As you wish,” he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat.

We lay there in comfortable silence, the world outside our little cocoon of warmth and love feeling miles away. It was a rare and precious moment, one that I wanted to hold onto for as long as I could. In Loki’s arms, everything felt right. The worries and challenges of the world could wait. For now, all that mattered was this—just him and me, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet beauty of the morning.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words flowing from my heart without hesitation.

He tilted my chin up, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice soft but unwavering.

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things words could never fully express—a promise, a reassurance, a shared truth. When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us.

“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” I murmured.

“Forever,” he agreed.

[artsarasp]

You had people send you fics, but what are personally your fic recommendations?

Or fics you like in general or just find cool/neat?

WELL- First off you can always assume that I'm highly recommending any fic I've drawn art for, that's me pointing a neon sign at it and saying GO READ AND LEAVE A NICE COMMENT TO THE WRITER! I'm gonna go dig in my history to get some recs.

- "dumbstruck when you're tender" by pennydaniels This fic is SO good, I wanted to yell about it by making a drawing but I just couldn't decide what to draw. It's a timetravel fix-it fic where Liu Mingyan goes back in time and fixes the plot by joining Qing jing and basically spends the entire story making SQQ go "what the fuck is WRONG with this girl" .

It scratches an itch in my brain. 10/10 go read it.

"We should stick together" by pennydaniels (again <3)

As the author put it, SJ babytraps LQG without the baby. It's honestly so well written, (i want to personally break the face of SJ's Shizun) there's also a sequel fic where sj is de-aged and its so sweetttttt aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

"held within the sharp and the curving" by corduroyserpent

I've read this the other day and really enjoyed it!!! It's Gongyi Xiao/Zhuzhi-Lang. Zhuzhi-Lang brings Gongyi Xiao back from the dead and its a bit of a mess and then it turns so tenderrr

"How To Train Your Empolyee" by ParueCake (MiraEyeteeth)

I think about this fic so much. It's so good. Shen Yuan is a dragon and he needs someone to help him take care of chores around the house, he gets a tiny terrified Binghe to do the job. But honestly, LQG steals the show for me (CALL ME BIASED, HE'S MY FAV) There one scene in particular that just gives me the biggest smile whenever I think about it and it's when SY and LQG are sparring and SY keeps yeeting LQG far away and he keeps coming back like a cat that likes to be thrown around. ALSO LQG TRYING TO APPLY A TALISMAN ON HIMSELF TO GET RID OF MIND CONTROL AND IT'S NOT WORKING BECAUSE IT'S JUST THE WIFE BEAM- IT'S SO FUNNYYYY Mira said something about writing a LQG pov and I'm staring longingly in their general direction.

"A person I can't recall" by milktan

Honestly, I could recommend all their fics (They are ALL amazing and the ARTTT) but this one scratches that itch in my brain that loves funny misunderstandings like these. You can sum it up as: yqy: oh, my poor shidi is so traumatized :( sqh: FUCK FUCK FUCK *TROWS A MOLOTOV* 10/10 amazing shenanigans

"Seamless" by elanor_pam

This one is just the first chapter but it's so good already!!! Timetravel fix it where we get a front-row seat as YQY absolutely TEARS into the Qiu's, just one chapter and it's already PEAK just for the absolute smack at Qiu Jianluo.

"Celestial Afterglow" by elanor_pam (again <3 )

This one is a weird one, but I had a lot of fun reading it. SQH saves the plot by setting up the weirdest unintentional voyeurism session ever. SQQ turns into a living CLAMP illustration, Xin Mo is defeated by the sluttiest flower in the realm, LQG unlocks the particle effect. Everyone has a great time and the OPM gets destroyed as a little treat <3