#OR DO YOU JUST WANT A QUIET LIFE WITH HER?
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teaboot · 23 hours ago
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One time my mom took me to a hibachi grill with a bunch of her friends and if you've never been to a hibachi grill basically the draw is that theres a bunch of interactive performance stuff done by the cook who cooks for you at your table, and one of the tricks they did at this one was take a squeeze bottle full of liquor and shoot it into your mouth across the table (with permission)
And now at our table my mom explained this because it was my first time going, and she wanted to make sure to warn me it was liquor because she knows I don't drink- she just said "if he offers to shoot at your mouth, say no because it's alcohol".
And so the chef does his thing and it's all very impressive, but the time does come where he pulls out this squeeze bottle of booze and asks me if I wanna try
I of course say no, because I really don't do alcohol, so he moves on to someone else
And I watch, and slowly come to understand that this is some sort of game, because once someone is drinking from the continuous flow the chef starts counting "ONE! TWO! THREE!"
I realize that we're trying to see who can keep drinking the liquor from three feet away without choking or spilling, and its a bummer cause i kinda wanna try and I CAN'T
But he goes around the table with everyone there, and I think my mom makes it to three, one friend makes it to five, I think my brother got to three as well, and he comes back to me
And I'm REALLY bummed out now but I will not drink alcohol, so I sort of sadly repeat that I can't when he pulls out a SECOND BOTTLE and grins and goes "juice?"
And Im like FUCK YEAH LET'S GO and I'm a bit worried he's gonna spray it into my eye or something but he doesn't, it hits me right at the back of the throat, and I start drinking while the whole fucking table counts "ONE! TWO! THREE!"
And like
It just sorta
Kept going?
And Im looking at the chef and he starts freaking out by the time we get to six, and at around seven I kinda start looking around and my auntie is staring back in shock, my brother is laughing his ass off and my mom has her face in her hands
And then at like nine or ten it gets like. Super tense and quiet, and only the chef is still counting
And I guess it got too much for even him cause we're at eleven and I don't believe in quitting early and it is almost painful how awkward it's getting
So he cuts me off at twelve and raises his hands in the air and everyone else cheers and claps like a dumb movie
and I just sit back in my seat to look back at my mother staring at me surrounded by everyone she knows, bright fucking red in the face and choking with honest to god tears in her eyes and she puts her face back in her palms and starts chanting "I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know"
So I give her the biggest, proudest grin and tell her, "I won."
So now every time something suggestive happens in a movie, or in conversation, or something shocking happens around us and she goes to jokingly cover my ears, I just ask her, "Remember when I won?" And she goes face-down and groans, because I know EXACTLY how she thinks I trained to develop that particular skill and she HATES knowing that about me
The truth is though, I'm a whole ass 28 year old virgin. I've never so much as kissed anyone in my life. I had no idea I could do that trick until that exact moment
But she doesn't know that, and I'm never gonna tell her
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motorsportbarbie13 · 2 days ago
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A Package Deal - Part 3
In which things are made official.
Warnings: smut in the middle. lando being jealous. Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 4.6k words
(a note: happy new year loves!!! hope you enjoy part three!!)
- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - Master List
yourusername (private) posted
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yourusername testing testing... BFFSarah so jealous! >>>yourusername miss you! ❤️ landonorris stalker >>>yourusername 😘 >>>BFFSarah 👀
"I'm funnier than Greg, right?" Lando grumbles, not even bothering to take his eyes off of you.
"Mate, what?" Oscar replies, eyes narrowed, totally mystified as to what the hell his teammate is talking about. "Like, Greg, the guy on the strategy team Greg?"
"Yeah, him." Lando raises his chin towards where you stand opposite of said strategy Greg, laughing (even louder this time) at something he's said. Lando knuckles go white on the counter he's standing when Greg leans in just a bit too close for his comfort.
It was the first day of testing in Bahrain and Lando had just come in from his first test stint of the 2025 season. When he'd walked into the garage a few minutes earlier, he'd instantly clocked where you stood near the back of the garage staring up at a few computer monitors beside his newest nemesis, Greg. At first he hadn't thought anything of it but then he heard you laugh, a sound that was quickly becoming one of his favorite things, and he had stopped what he was doing to stare.
"I don't think I know Greg's sense of humor well enough to be the judge of that." Oscar responds, still confused as to why Lando was asking him such a random question. When Oscar follows Lando's line of sight though, everything clicks into place and starts to make a lot more sense.
"Oh..." He mutters, unable to quell the smirk that surfaces.
"'Oh' what?" Lando snaps, still attempting to assassinate Greg with a glare.
"You're jealous." Oscar practically giggles. He might be the quieter one of the driver duo, but that quiet demeanor meant that he noticed a lot more than other people gave him credit for and Oscar had caught onto Lando's crush after the first time he had stumbled into your office and disappeared on him for hours.
Lando finally tears his eyes away from where you're standing, still staring up in rapt attention to Greg. "I most certainly am not." He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest in a move that is very reminiscent of a Stella temper tantrum.
"You two aren't even together, are you?" Oscar reasons, doing next to nothing to reassure Lando that he has nothing to be worried about.
Lando narrows his eyes at the Australian as he fights a pout. "I mean, no. Not technically, I guess."
And that was the problem, wasn't it? You two had been on a few dates and he'd been coming over to your house to hang with you and Stella more and more but a serious discussion of what was happening? He'd been too scared to have that kind of talk with you so quick. You made him nervous but being rejected by you sounded even worse.
"Maybe you should like, talk to her about it then? If that's what you want? I mean, I've never seen the sight of a girl talking to someone else send you into orbit like this before. You really like her, don't you?"
Oscar had worked hard to keep his opinion of you and Lando together to himself. He hated when people commented on his relationship with Lily, which was a big reason why they were so quiet together, so he had made it a point not to press when it came to you. He'd spent most of the morning with you though, while Lando was in the car and he could see why Lando was so attached to you already. You were wicked smart and the program that you had been writing for the team was impressive. He knew there were other people in Lando's life that didn't think the driver could handle being with someone like you but the more Oscar got to know you, the more he could see why you two got on so well.
Lando's gaze slides back to you then. "I do, yeah." He murmurs, a sudden sense of determination settling over him. Before he has the chance to chicken out once again, he pats Oscar on the back and starts off towards where you and Greg are still huddled together in front of a computer screen.
"Greg, can I steal her away from you real quick?" Lando says by way of greeting, his tone needlessly possessive. "Will and I wanted to go through last sessions data with you before lunch." He lies.
You hadn't noticed the way Lando had been staring daggers at you and Greg up until that very moment but the feral look he's giving you takes you by surprise. Greg had approached you as Lando's session had wound down and your new program was stretching its legs on your laptop. He wanted to talk about the inputs you were adding in for this year and give you some feedback on the initial data capture of this morning's session. It was totally innocent and when Lando had slid up next to you practically breathing fire, you had been a bit caught off guard.
"I'll see you at the cocktail party later tonight, Greg." You give him a smile before turning back to Lando. "Where do you want to go, the debrief room?"
"Sure." Lando huffs, giving Greg a fake smile before grabbing your elbow and leading you towards an empty conference room. Like hell you were going to see Gregory at any point for the rest of the day.
You're totally confused at the way he's practically dragging you down the hallway and even more perplexed when Lando nearly slams the door closed behind him and you find the debrief room completely empty. "Where's Will?"
"What?" Lando frowns.
"You said you and Will wanted to go over some data after your session." Annoyance moves through you. What in the world was going on?
"Oh, yeah no. I lied." Lando glares at you like you're the insane one, frown deepening.
"Lando!" You sputter, resisting the urge to chuck the nearest laptop at his head. "I was in the middle of a conversation with Greg."
When he rolls his eyes, you swear you see red. "Yeah, I know. We all saw how endlessly entertaining the conversation was."
The pout that finds it's way onto his face is what unlocks everything for you though. Sudden understanding washes over you as it all finally clicks.
"You're jealous!" You gasp, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of giggles.
Lando at least as the decency to look a bit ashamed of his behavior but attempts to deny it. "I am not."
You arch an eyebrow at the man standing across from you as if he's not the easiest book in the world to read. "Lando Norris, you were jealous of a man who was telling me all about how his boyfriend took him on a trip to the Bahamas over the holidays and got bitten by a wild swimming pig."
The way Lando's cheeks go scarlet as he crosses his arms over his chest nearly has you doubled over with laughter.
"Oh."
"Oh is right, you muppet." You chuckle, using the term of endearment he's become famous for. In a few strides, your within arms length of him, tugging at the waist of his half unzipped race suit. Lando takes a step forward as you pull him closer.
"Jealously looks good on you, Norris." You smirk before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, mindful of the fact that you're still at work.
Lando settles his hands on your hips, drawing you even closer to him, seemingly forgetting that he's still at work. He grins down at you, a flirty glint sparking in his eyes.
"Yeah, well. What can I say? The sight of some idiot flirting with my girlfriend kind of set me off."
Your hands slip around Lando's waist. Heart hammering so fast you're amazed Lando can't hear it, you beam up at him. You'd never experienced the kind of contentment and safety you felt whenever you were with Lando before. He frequently caught you off balance like this and had you feeling like you were a teenager again, still believing in fairy tales and happy endings.
"Girlfriend, huh?"
"That's right." He whispers. The rasp in his voice has you pressing your hips into his, seeking friction from his body.
"Well, since I'm your girlfriend then I guess you’ll be needing this for later tonight." Reaching into the back pocket of your jeans, your fingers find the thin plastic card you'd stashed there to slip into Lando's hand sometime this afternoon.
Anticipation sparks between your bodies as Lando figures out what you've just pressed into his palm. All this time he'd been building up this big conversation that he thought had to be had and nervously putting so much pressure on himself to do this all the right way. It had only taken a matter of seconds though and you had reminded him that it like most everything that happened between you and him, this was easy too. There's a silent understanding that passes between you two then that maybe this was how it was supposed to be from the beginning and that sometimes wires get crossed and we meet people later than the universe intended.
"I have to get back to work and you should really find Will and actually debrief but I think I'd like to skip tonights cocktail hour if that's okay with you."
Lando reluctantly lets go and nods, swallowing around the thick lump of emotion stuck in his throat.
"Yeah." He croaks before reaching back out to bring your face to his, kissing you so intensely your knees buckle. "I'll see you tonight."
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Not even five minutes after Lando responds to your text, you hear the beeping of the lock to your hotel room door and it swings open moments later. Anxiety flows through you despite the flirty text you'd just sent. This kind of thing was totally out of your wheel house, with most of your adult life spent focusing on your daughter and not dating. It had been Sarah's suggestion to send that risky text but after your conversation with Lando earlier, you were briefly confident that it would be well received. And judging by his response, you were right. That didn't do much to calm your nerves though so the knock on your door sends the butterflies in your belly flying around in what feels like a category five tornado.
"Are you trying to kill me?" Lando groans when he sees you kneeling on the bed waiting for him. Every thought tumbles straight out of his head at the sight of you waiting for him in nothing but black bits of lace. If he had known this was what had been waiting for him all night, he certainly wouldn't have gone to dinner with some of the team.
"You like it then?" You ask, barely resisting the urge to dive under the covers you feel so exposed under his gaze. Lando can't stop staring and it's starting to make you nervous, the way he's dragging his eyes up and down your body without making an attempt to move from where he stands just inside your hotel room.
"Like it? Baby, are you fucking kidding me? I don't think I've ever seen a prettier sight in my entire life." The rasp in his voice drags down your skin like sandpaper.
"Then stop staring and get over here."
Lando obeys immediately, toeing off his shoes before joining you on the bed. His hands find your hips and before you can make a sound, he's pulling you into his lap and attaching his lips to your neck.
"I think everyone got the impression I was about to be sick or something, I got up from that table so fucking fast." He mumbles against you. "Also, give me some warning next time you're going to send me that kind of thing, Osc nearly got an eye full of something that is for my eyes only."
Lando had been attempting to show Oscar something on his phone when your text had come through and the moment he'd swapped over to his iMessage app he was glad that Andrea had picked that exact second to call Oscar's name. He had shut down the message app so fast, all of his blood rushing straight from his head to below his belt.
"Oops." You giggle. "Sorry."
"You're not one bit sorry, don't lie."
All you do is shrug as you preen under his attention. He eyes drag lazy lines up and down your body, stalling when they fall on the black lace barely hiding your most intimate parts. The heat of his gaze has fire stoking deep in your belly and for the first time in years, you feel desired and wanted. It's an unfamiliar feeling that you're still getting used to but with Lando, it feels safe. You feel cared for and it's unlike anything you've ever experienced with anyone you've slept with before. Which, to be totally honest, wasn't a lot. You haven't been in a serious relationship since Stella's dad, the only dates you've gone on in the last six years usually ending in casual flings that don't end up meaning much outside of the bedroom.
This though? This feels different and you know Lando feels the same.
Lando's hands grip at your hips as he moves you off his lap briefly and stands up. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when he unbuckles his belt with one hand, tugging it off in one smooth motion, the leather slapping against itself and echoing throughout the otherwise silent room. 
“Jesus.” You breathe and desperately try to catch your breath as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. You've known that Lando has a sinfully good body for a while, his entire career is centered around his body afterall so naturally, he is in amazing shape. There’s a reason that women will do next to anything to get any of the drivers in their bed. Nothing prepared you for the hard planes of his chest and the insane cut of his abs though. The way his waist nips in to show off a deep V cut of his torso makes your mouth water. With both his jeans and shirt now discarded, he stands in front of you in just a pair of gray boxers that do absolutely nothing to hide how rock hard he is.
Fuck. 
Before you can stop yourself, you rise up on your knees and move towards him, needing to get your hands on his body. On your knees before him while he’s standing, you only come up to his collar bones but that’s enough. You drop kisses on his heated flesh and relish the way his breath hitches in his throat when your lips make contact. He allows you to continue kissing him for several moments, his hands roaming all over your body. You don’t know how long it is but after his hands have taken full a full tour of your skin, he pulls back and looks at you with a primal glint in his eyes. “Lay down." He orders "I need my tongue on you. Now.” 
You obey and crawl back, watching him prowl after you. Your head rests on the pile of pillows as he covers you with his body and suddenly, the insecurity and anxiety from earlier flashes through your mind. You've never been with anyone who seemed to want to do anything but fuck you and then be done with it. This reverence for your body is completely foreign and the reality of what is about to happen crashes through the haze of lust that clouds your mind.
You must stiffen a bit because a frown appears on Lando's face as his arms cage you in and he hovers over you. “Baby?” 
You shake your head, refusing to let your insecurity ruin the night. Your eyes close and you take a deep breath to steady yourself.
“I’m fine.” You whisper but Lando doesn’t believe you. He drops back onto his knees and straddles you, drawing back so he can see your entire face. 
“What’s wrong? We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re not ready.” 
Your face heats, but from embarrassment this time. Fuck. You do not want to ruin this.
“No. It’s okay. I just…I’m just not used to this kind of attention.” You don’t tell him how your're used to being used for your body, for whatever pleasure your partner can get out of me and nothing more. You don’t tell him how insecure it makes you to think that he could do the same thing to you too, despite how safe and good he makes you feel no matter what. Sometimes, habits are hard to break. Especially habits that are born out of trauma. You can't tell him any of that though because you think it might break his heart. 
Lando tilts his head and seemingly understands what you're saying. “I don’t know what the fuck the guys in your life were thinking, having you in their bed and not treating you properly, but baby, I am not them. This is not about me, this is about you.” His fingers trace long, lazy lines from your shoulder down over your bra and continue down your body as you shudder with pleasure.
“That’s it." He coos. "I know you’re scared but I swear to you, you are safe with me.” His voice is barely a whisper but you can hear the sincerity in it. Your heart thunders in your chest as you hover between wanting to stop and throwing every bit of caution away and allowing him to do whatever he wants to you. 
“I know I am. I always have been.” You hum.
“Do you want to stop? You just have to say the word and we will. This is yours to control.” 
Your eyes search his for any trace of anger and when you find nothing but honesty in his face, you shake your head. “Please don’t stop.”
You desperately do not want him to stop. 
Once he’s sure you're okay, he crashes his mouth on yours once again and you melt into him. His body is so heavy on top of you but it feels oh so good. You never want it to end. You never want tonight to end. Lando presses kisses into your skin all down your body, starting at your jaw, moving slowly downwards. Kisses on that dip between your neck and shoulders, lower to your sternum, even lower to just above where your bra still sits. He stops then and snakes a hand behind you, lifting you up momentarily, and unclasps the back with surprising ease.
“Okay, that was way too easy for you.” You accuse, laughter bubbling up as he tosses the bra across the room. 
His eyes find yours and he shrugs casually, “What?” He feigns innocence, “Lucky first try?” 
“Oh, whatever. Get back to work.” You order, laughter teasing at the edge of your voice. 
Lando shakes his head again, dropping his head back where he had left off and turns his attention to one of your nipples, taking it fully in his mouth. You inhale a sharp breath at the sensation coursing through you. It feels like your skin is on fire, all leading down to a single throb between your legs. He hums in satisfaction when your back arches off the bed. A moan escapes your lips when he scrapes his teeth against the sensitive skin, the pain sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. After what feels like an eternity, he turns his attention to the other nipple, already pebbled and hard, aching for the same attention. Your mind goes blank as you focus on the jolts of electricity coursing through your body. Your hands tangle in his curls, gripping at the tangles of brown hair, needing something to latch onto. 
“Lan.” His name is a whispered prayer on your lips. 
“Fuck. Baby.” He comes up for air briefly to look at you again and you almost can’t stand to look at him, he looks so good. His lips are swollen from kissing you for so long and he's got this heavy lidded, lustful hazy gaze in his eyes that you've never seen from him before.
“You taste so good.” He rasps before shifting back up to land kisses on your lips. You're so focused on what his lips are doing that you completely miss his fingers digging into your hips. You let out a startled cry when the sound of ripping fabric cuts through the breathy sighs that have filled the room. 
“Lando!” You whine, “I liked those!” You look at the torn bits of black lace that he’s dropped next to him on the bed and sigh dramatically.
“They were in my way. I’ll buy you fifty more tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, his hand dips down towards your pussy and anticipation climbs in you. You gasp when he sinks not one, but two fingers into the heat between your legs.  Your entire body aches off the bed towards his hand. “Christ. Baby. You are fucking soaked for me, aren’t you?” 
It’s all you can do to just nod an affirmation as he swirls his fingers in achingly slow circles. His thick fingers inch closer to your clit but manage to avoid it and you know he’s doing it on purpose. You wiggle your hips in search of that friction you crave so badly but every time you get close, he moves his fingers out of the way. By the fourth time this happens, you're a whimpering mess underneath him and Lando is clearly enjoying it. “Lando.” You whimper. “Touch me.” 
“I am touching you.” He drops another hot kiss on your jaw and traces his tongue down your neck. You swear you're going to explode from the sensations coursing through your body. 
“You know exactly what I fucking mean.” You snap and move your hips again, only to find his fingers just short of the destination you want them in yet again. 
An evil chuckle tickles your skin. “I like you like this. A pretty little mess underneath me. My girl is so wet for me, isn’t she?” 
His girl. The emotions crash through you at his words and every other thought beyond those two words leaves your brain. 
His girl. 
His girl. 
Your brain chants the all consuming phrase. 
Just when you think you can’t take it any more and you feel that familiar tug at the base of your spine and Lando finally gives you what you've been aching for. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit and your hips fly off the bed towards his fingers. A cry escapes your lips as you claw at his back. He keeps up the same pace and you can feel yourself barreling towards a delicious release.
“Please. Don’t. Stop.” You pant, breath coming in short gasps as you rock your hips against his hand. Thankfully, he keeps his hand exactly where it is and allows you to grind against it, knowing that this is exactly what you need from him. His lips come down on yours again and when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, you fly over the cliff.
Sweet release shatters your entire body and you stiffen against him. Your nails dig into his back, leaving little half moons embedded in his flesh. He’ll have red welts there for days and he couldn’t be happier about it. You don’t know how many times you cry out his name but he keeps completely still, allowing you to get the relief that you desperately need against him. 
When your orgasm subsides, you practically melt into the bed, mind too muddled with pleasure to talk. You open your eyes and grin lazily at Lando, who has shifted so he’s lying next to you on the bed. He’s grinning right back and tracing shiver-inducing lines up and down your naked skin.
“Fuck. Lando. That…” You are completely lost for words so it takes you a moment to form a complete sentence, “That was the first time anyones been able to make me come with just their fingers.” 
“Well, I’m glad I could be your first.” He smirks, dropping a kiss on your temple as he pulls you closer to him.
You turn to face him and you're struck at how handsome he is. His curly hair is messy from when you pulled at it while he was getting you off, his eyes glassy with satisfaction even though he hasn’t even come himself yet. He seems to get off just watching you and that is a completely foreign concept.
You reach out and feel the light stubble that covers his jaw, enjoying the rough feel against your fingers. You idly wonder what that stubble would feel like against your thighs and decide that you're just going to have to find out exactly what it feels like soon. That one single thought sends heat flooding through your veins once again and you're surprised. You've never considered myself to be one of those girls that could go several rounds. Usually you were finished after one orgasm, most of the time it was faked anyway. But with Lando laying next to you, you feel like you could do this for the rest of the night. A mischievous grin slips across your face as you reach over and push him back into the pillows.
Before you allow yourself to think about what you're doing, you straddle him and relish in the feeling of his dick that is now nudging against your ass. “I think I need you inside me now.” You tell him and squeal when his pupils blow and he flips you onto your back without warning. 
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Hours later, you fall into such a deep sleep you don't notice Lando slip out of bed to get a drink of water from the bathroom. You'd spent the better part of the evening underneath him as he gradually worked you over so good you had lost count of how many times he had made you come.
The mattress dips when he joins you back in bed and Lando is surprised to find that he doesn't want to leave you. Up until meeting you, Lando had been more of a one night stand, never sleep over, kind of person when it came to sex. Getting back into bed with you and pulling you close so he could fall asleep with you tucked next to him was something he never thought he'd want but now that he had it, he knew he'd never be able to live without it again.
When Lando pulls you towards him, you stir a bit, enjoying the way the heat of his body warms your naked skin. You're so fucked out from everything Lando did to your body, your brain is a little sluggish but you turn into him, burying your head deep into his chest.
"You left me." You whine sleepily.
Lando slots his leg between yours, hitching your top leg up over his waist. "I'm sorry, baby." He whispers against your hair. "I needed a drink but I'm not going anywhere."
"I thought you left." In your sleepy haze, the words you probably would've tamped down slip out. "Please don't leave me."
Lando knows you're more than half asleep and probably don't realize what you're saying but something in your words has him feeling you don't just mean for the night. "I'm not going anywhere, sweet girl. Not ever." He whispers, listening to the soft cooing sound you make in response before you drift right back off to sleep.
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Say my name again
Hwang In-ho x reader
word count: 2k
warnings: blood, gore, violence… if u watched SG, you’ll be fine
as always, requests are open!
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You’ve been watching him for some time now. Paying attention to the way his mouth moved when he talked to his teammates, following his gaze wherever he looked. After the second game, you overheard him introducing himself. Young-il. What a coincidence he looked like the police officer that visited your flat so many years ago. The name was what made you suspicious - you could have sworn the police officer introduced himself to you as Hwang In-ho. And it’s not as if you could’ve gotten those mixed up; you two spent many restless days trying to find the ones who were behind the robbery of your home. But, you smiled with some bitterness on your tongue, the outcome was obvious based on your situation.
You knew you were the only one watching him so closely. One of your teammates even joked about it, saying you were mesmerised by that man. But he just made you nervous - his presence planting a bug in your brain. Was he a spy for the government? Or was he just as miserable as the rest of you?
With another unsuccessful vote behind you, you could finally rest and get off of your adrenaline high by leaning against the railing of your bunk bed while nibbling on some bread. You took off your bloodied shoes that always made you nauseous just by looking at them and while doing some breathing exercises your eyes of their own volition found that familiar face in the moving crowd. Of course he is still playing, you thought. He was a cop, no matter what. You watched him give his own share of milk to the pregnant girl. Did he do it out of kindness or to manipulate those people?
“Seriously, Y/N, you must have a problem. What is wrong with you? Staring like that at that poor guy- he might get the wrong idea.” One of your teammates said to you, sitting next to you on the bed.
“Don’t worry so much. I’m just watching and that’s harmless on its own.”
“On its own, yes. But what you’re doing is more than that.”
You raised your brow in annoyance and curiosity and moved your eyes to her.
“And what is it that I’m doing?” You pursed your lips.
“Stalking, mildly put.” She grimaced at your look, sensing how close to irritated you were becoming.
“Stalking? Such a nonsense, Se-mi.”
“Well, whatever. Just be careful so he doesn’t notice or in the next game you might have even more trouble staying alive.”
“Yeah? Is that because you’re so done with me you’re gonna finish me off tomorrow?”
Both of you were grinning then.
“In your dreams, Y/N.”
***
The platform beneath you jerked to life but all your eyes could see were the puddles of blood everywhere. Your shoes were already drenched in it, the palms of your hands covered by it. You slipped on the blood so many times that your clothes were already camouflaged.
“Today I die,” you breathed out, ragged and scared. You knew you were right.
The music echoed in your head even as it quieted and the platform stopped. But you still couldn’t look away from all the blood, not caring anymore about the people around you.
“Two.” said the woman’s voice and panic began. You finally lifted your gaze, searching for Se-mi or anyone familiar but no one was around. People were screaming, dragging each other down, pushing, always pushing. And you just stood there, awaiting your unavoidable end.
“Come on!” There, a body appeared, and someone crashed into you with such force it was hard to stay on your feet. Hands grabbed your waist and with unbelievable strength half pushed you half carried you to the nearest unoccupied room. Only when your body connected with the floor and the doors locked behind you did you look up at the person who saved you.
“Tell me what you want from me.” Young-il or In-ho said, blocking the exit with his body, freezing you in place with those piercing eyes. So he has noticed, you thought, finding it hard to swallow, let alone speak.
“I know who you are.” you croaked and In-ho said nothing, but his laugh lines grew heavier.
“Do you?“ he asked after a while, his eyes sparkling. Was this just a game for him?
“Why didn’t you tell them your real name, In-ho?”
“What made you think you could talk to me like that?” You shivered at his words but your face remained impassable. Somehow, you weren’t scared of him, no. Just… curious.
“Same question.”
“You think I don’t remember you, right? But you’re wrong. The moment I noticed you here I knew exactly who you were, Y/ N.” It was hard to pretend that those words meant nothing to you.
“At least I don’t hide behind a different name.”
“It’s a precaution. Some of these people are criminals and if they recognised my name they wouldn’t be as happy as you to see me here, understood?”
Your cheeks reddened but that didn’t stop you from holding your ground. His gaze made you nervous and you started biting your lower lip.
“Would you stop doing that?” In-ho asked and you raised an eyebrow at him.
“You’re not the only one watching, Y/N.” he gave you a tentative smile.
Before you could say anything, the doors clicked and In-ho extended his hand to you as an offering.
“I can keep a secret… Can you?” A corner of his mouth curled up slightly and in answer you accepted his hand.
***
After you walked out of the room, the two of you didn’t speak until later that day in the dormitory. It was as if your roles switched - the whole day you felt his gaze following you wherever you went. It was driving you insane.
Thankfully In-ho approached you on his own, holding you by your elbow and gently leading you to a tranquil corner of the room.
“Stop staring at me to distract me!” you whisper shouted at him.
“Oh, I’m not staring at you to distract you.”
Again, the blush creeped into your cheeks. Flustered and ashamed, you looked away and bit your lip.
“I shouldn’t be here, you know.” he went on. His eyes were flickering from side to side, probably trying to see if anyone paid any attention to you.
“Well, I can keep a secret, can’t I?” you looked up at him from beneath your lashes, a spark in your eyes. A smile crept on his face but quickly disappeared.
“As soon as the lights go out today, the other team is going to attack us so they have more people voting tomorrow for the games to continue. You hide under the bed and be quiet, you understand?”
“Is this a trap?” you asked and stepped away, your hands starting to shake.
“Do as I say.” And that was that. With it, he meant to turn away, but you gripped his wrist.
“In-ho-“
“Would you stop doing that?” he retorted and moved his hand so it was him holding you. His knuckles were all white but he wasn’t hurting you.
“Doing what exactly, In-ho-“ before you could finish the sentence, the palm of his hand covered your mouth. Your nostrils were met with a musky and tangy smell.
“Don’t test me.” He let go of you and stepped aside. As he turned to go, he spoke over his shoulder: “When the lights turn off, come and find me. I’ll keep you safe.”
And somehow, no matter how dangerous this place was, knowing that you cannot trust anyone here, you trusted him.
***
“Light out in five minutes.” The woman’s voice resonated in the dormitory while everyone climbed into their beds. You sat at the edge of yours with shoes on, checking for the fifth time In-ho’s location. In your mind, you tried to blindly navigate your way and when you were finally convinced that you could do it, you loosened a deep sigh.
“Why so tense, Y/N?” Se-mi asked from the bed beneath yours. You climbed down onto her level and quickly checked if anyone was listening, before you whispered: “After the lights go out, gen under the beds. Trust me.” Thank god she didn’t question it, because you felt ridiculous enough for the both of you for even listening to In-ho. He didn’t have a motive to keep you safe. He had one to kill you, though. You were the only one here who knew his real name. You just didn’t know if it was information worth killing for.
“Lights out in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight…” You looked around for the last time. The air was stale and tense. Your body started shaking immediately.
“Three, two, one.” The darkness fell like a heavy curtain. You quietly stumbled down the ladder, careful to make as little noise as possible. Your left knee nearly collapsed under you as you made the first step but you kept a firm grip on the railings as you slowly passed between the bunk beds. Two railings, you go right, tree railings, you touch the wall, you follow it into the corner, then four railings before you go left…. But it just wasn’t possible to move as quickly as required. You were three quarters in when hell was unleashed. The sounds of stabbing, screaming and gurgling filled the air but your legs refused to move. You were completely paralysed with fear.
Someone jumped screaming from their bed and stumbled into you. You fell with a yelp on the cold floor and tried to scoot under the closest bed, but someone was already there pushing you out, frantically repeating: “Get out, they’re gonna find me, you have to go!”
You scrambled on all fours and stayed as low as possible while crawling to where In-ho was supposed to be. You were such a fool.
There was a sudden kick to your abdomen and you gasped, pain resonating through your body. Someone tripped over you and fell with a scream, their hands trying to hold onto anything, which just happened to be your hair. You screamed with pain, blindly punching around yourself in a desperate attempt of defence.
“In-ho!” you finally screamed, not caring anymore if someone tracked you down because of it. There was so much noise that it didn’t matter.
“In-ho!” you kept on shouting as you got up and started frantically running in the direction you thought was the right one. You were starting to get desperate, your voice turning into a rasp, tears forcing their way out of your eyes.
Earlier, when you said that you were going to die that day, maybe it would actually happen.
Suddenly, a hand grasped your ankle and you were prepared for the worst. But when your name fell off In-ho’s lips, your shoulders sagged with relief and with a desperate cry you got on the ground and slid next to him under the bed.
“I thought I was dead,” you gasped out, hand on your racing heart.
“Well, me too if that calms you down.”
“It certainly doesn’t, In-ho.” you glared at him. He was looking at you in a strange way, something in his expression you didn’t know how to identify.
“What is it?” you asked, your stomach dropping. Was he actually betraying you? Or was he trying to kiss you? With that look on his face, you couldn’t say which one.
“Say my name again,” he breathed out, your breaths mingling. Suddenly, you noticed all the points where your body was touching his, your skin heating up at the contact.
“In-ho,” you mumbled and stretched out your hand to tuck a strand of his silky hair behind his ear.
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” In-ho looked at you with a pained expression.
“Not in the slightest,” you whispered softly against his warm lips as you kissed him.
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gyaruhana · 2 days ago
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I am in desperate need for more 001 / the front man fics TwT
Could the plot be : when 456 and others try to take over the controls room (last ep), 001 protects her from the guards ( or told the guards over the radio to not attack the player) thank you!
Hwang In-ho/Front Man - Favorites
Synopsis: In-ho decides you don't deserve to die so he makes sure you survive.
A/N: sorry if this is rushed i am trying to get so many other fics done now too !!
Warnings: none
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Perhaps this whole mission was a really stupid idea. The sounds of gunshots rang through your ears as you listened to the yells of everyone else who had made the decision to help. You were starting to regret your own decision of taking a gun and choosing to help just because Young-il was going. You’d probably die here honestly. There just seemed to be a never-ending plethora of those guards running through and shooting at you and you couldn’t help but start to panic. 
Fuck, maybe you should just turn around and pretend like you were never a part of this poor attempt at a takeover. You weren't ready to die. Not today, not tomorrow, not even a decade from now. You just had to hold the fort down a little longer though. Just until Gi-hun and Jung-bae make it to the control room. You could wait that out. It wouldn’t take that long. At least, you kept telling yourself that. That everything was okay when it really wasn’t.
You took a deep breath before raising your gun and shooting at some of the guards from behind the pillar. Unfortunately for you, you quickly ran out of ammo making you pull back with a quiet curse. You shove your hands into your pockets to see if you had any more only to realize you’re out of ammo now. “Shit! I’m out,” you say as you look at the others and put your gun down next to you. 
“I’m almost out too,” Hyun-Ju spoke and the others seemed to have a nervous look on their faces - a clear sign they were quickly running out of ammo too. You leaned your head back as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe. All you could think about now was how you were definitely going to die here. You shouldn’t have tried to play hero. You should’ve stayed out of this so you could leave here in one piece and with a fuck ton of won. You were too lost in your fear to hear what the others were saying now and also too panicked to notice Young-il’s eyes on you.
He’d hate to admit it but seeing you like that made him feel guilty. He was annoyed at himself for lowering his guard so much and catching feelings for you when he really shouldn’t have. It was too complicated to fall for you when you were just a player, totally unaware that he was going to betray you all before Gi-hun even got close to the control room. If life was perfect, he would’ve taken you with him but he knew you’d never forgive him if you knew who he really was. 
It was then when he looked at the fear on your face did he decide you were not going to die here. Not in these twisted games he ran. You didn’t deserve death and, admittedly, he cared about you too much now to let you die. His focus on you was broken when Jung-bae started talking through the radio announcing that they believed they were right beneath the control room but needed more ammo and backup if they were going to make it.
“Did you hear that? They need backup!” he yells out as he looks to the others. “Three of us will go, the others will stay! Join us when you get the magazines!” he continued to yell through the loud echo of the bullets. Two of the men quickly offered to go as backup for Gi-hun and Jung-bae prompting Young-il to also go. Just as he was about to get up and head to the control room, your voice rang out.
“Wait! Are you sure?” you asked as you looked at Young-il with worry. Although Gwi-nam and Jung-bae needed some help and ammo, you didn’t want Young-il to be in danger. You weren’t sure what you would do if he died considering he’d been such a good friend to you. You’d never be able to get over his death - you knew that much. 
In response to your worry for him, he gave you a small smile as he looked at you before nodding his head. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry,” he says reassuringly. Seeing you look at him like that made his heart clench with both adoration and guilt. To know you worried for him almost made him rethink if he should be doing this or not. Of course, he quickly threw that thought away and turned around, heading to the direction Gi-hun and Jung-bae had gone. All you could do was watch him disappear through the door with a heavy heart as you pray this would work and he’d return unharmed.
Through the chaos of the shooting and the yelling, all you could think about was him. Even as everything went completely to shit and you all ran out of ammo after Dae-ho never came back and Hyun-ju left to go find him, you still kept thinking about him and if he was okay. Perhaps the threat of death being oh so real now was making you think about everything you had cherished in life - including the few days you got to spend with Young-il and how those days were arguably the best of your life.
Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t going to die here. Not as long as he was in control of these games. 
“Don’t kill Player 076,” he spoke through a radio to the guards after promptly shooting the guys that came with him and faking his death to Gi-hun. He shouldn’t be letting you live. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he did. He cared about you so much and he wished he could tell you the truth but he couldn’t. He’d just have to watch from afar and pull every string possible so you would live. He let out a sigh at the thought of you before quickly walking off to prepare himself to confront Gi-hun as who he really was - The Front Man.
You watched as your friends had no choice but to surrender until inevitably getting shot and killed. You flinched at the sound of the gunshots as you raised your hands in surrender and backed up. Were you crying? Yes. You were. Any sane person would be crying right about now after watching their friends die and realising they’re next to die. “Please. Please don’t kill me,” you begged as you closed your eyes and prepared for the worst. 
Except the worst never came. 
No. You were suddenly grabbed instead and pushed along as they walked. You weren’t sure what was happening. They had just ruthlessly shot your friends but they were leaving you to live? For what? So you could tell everyone what happened and teach a lesson to everyone not to try something like that again? You didn’t understand why you were spared when you really shouldn’t have been. You were just as guilty as the rest. You should have been shot too.
If only you knew the truth.
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thesecondhandwoman · 2 days ago
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BOTTOM OF THE BOTTLE
Sevika x f!reader
Synopsis: Another night, another time that Sevika returns home drunken off of cheap booze from The Last Drop. But this time, it was the last night that you could take it any longer.
A/N: I had to start this year off with a Sevika fanfic. I just had to.
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The creak of the apartment door tore through the quiet night like a blade. You’d been waiting, pacing, and stewing in the dim glow of a single lantern. Sevika was late tonight, again. But you didn’t expect the heavy thud of her boots to hit the floor this late, nor the unmistakable tang of Last Drop whiskey that followed her like a storm cloud.
“Sevika,” you said, stepping into view. “God, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”
She didn’t bother taking off her coat. Instead, she slumped against the doorframe, the flickering lamplight casting shadows across her sharp, exhausted features. Her metal arm whirred faintly as she ran a hand through her disheveled hair.
“Nice observation,” she drawled, her voice thick with liquor and something darker—Anger? Frustration? She kicked the door shut with her heel, the sound reverberating in your chest.
You crossed your arms. “Where were you? I waited, again.”
“Don’t start, you already know damn well where I was” she muttered, brushing past you. “Plus, I’m not in the mood.”
“Not in the mood?” You followed her into the small kitchen as she reached for the half-empty bottle she’d left on the counter earlier that week. “Sevika, we were supposed to talk tonight, about us, about this.”
“This?” She turned, bottle in hand, and gestured between the two of you with a bitter laugh. “What is this, huh? Me coming back to you nagging? You waiting around like some—some Undercity housewife? Is that what you want?”
Her words stung like a slap. “What I want is for you to actually care about this relationship. About me! But you’re too busy drinking and fighting Jinx’s battles to even—”
“Don’t you dare bring her into this,” Sevika snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, the air between you felt suffocating. “You don’t get it. You don’t get what it takes to survive out there.”
“I don’t get it?” Your voice rose, trembling with the weight of held-back tears. “You think I don’t know what survival looks like? I’ve been surviving my whole damn life! But surviving isn’t enough anymore, Sevika. I need more. I need you—sober, present, not drowning yourself at the Last Drop every night!”
She scoffed, turning away from you to take a swig from the bottle. The sight was infuriating, her indifference like salt in a wound.
“Don’t walk away from me!” you yelled, your voice cracking. “For once, just face this and have an actual conversation!”
“Why?” she barked, spinning back to you with a fire in her eyes that you hadn’t seen in weeks. “So you can tell me how I’m failing you? How I’m not enough? Guess what? I’ve never been enough—for Silco, for Zaun, for anyone. Why the hell would you be any different?”
The raw vulnerability in her words made your breath hitch, but the alcohol twisted them into something cruel. You stepped back, crossing your arms defensively.
“You know what?,” you muttered quietly, voice trembling but firm. “You’re right. You’re not enough—not like this. And I can’t keep pretending it’s okay.”
Her expression faltered, the weight of your words landing like a punch. She staggered back a step, bottle still in hand, before the anger flared again. “So what? You’re just gonna leave, huh? Walk away like everyone else?”
“Maybe I should,” you shot back, hating the way your voice shook. “You’re the one pushing me away, Sevika. Not the other way around.”
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of her breathing—heavy, uneven. She looked at you like you’d just struck her, but the tension between you was unbearable.
Finally, she set the bottle down on the counter with a loud clink. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice low and venomous. “Do what you want. I won’t stop you.”
You blinked, your chest tightening as the tears you’d been holding back spilled over. “Is that all you have to say?”
She didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on the floor as if looking at you would shatter her completely.
“Sevika, are you serious?” Your voice cracked, softer now, pleading. But she didn’t move, didn’t respond.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned and headed for the bedroom, leaving her standing there in the room, alone with only the soft flicker of the light. The weight of her words, and your own, pressed heavily against your chest.
You wanted to believe this wasn’t the end, that the Sevika you loved was still somewhere beneath the alcohol and anger. But as you closed the door behind you, the sound of her lighting another cigarette echoed in your ears, and you weren’t sure if she’d ever let you reach her again.
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The first thing Sevika noticed when she woke was the ache in her head—a dull, relentless pounding that made her groan and press her flesh hand against her temple. Her mouth was dry, and her tongue felt like sandpaper. The faint stench of whiskey clung to her clothes, and the stale taste of regret lingered on her lips.
Her eyes cracked open, adjusting slowly to the dim light filtering through the curtains. She was still on the couch where she had lit her cigarette, her body slumped awkwardly across the cushions. Memories of the night before hit her like a freight train—stumbling through the door, the sharp edge of your voice, the argument that escalated too quickly.
“Shit,” she muttered, dragging herself upright. Her metal arm whirred faintly as she stretched, her muscles stiff from a night spent in an uncomfortable position. She rubbed her face, trying to shake off the fog in her head, but the memory of your last words cut through the haze like a blade.
“You’re the one pushing me away, Sevika. Not the other way around.”
She groaned again, this time not from the hangover but from the guilt gnawing at her chest. She’d passed out before she could even think about apologizing. Her pride, fueled by whiskey and frustration, had kept her from chasing after you when you’d stormed off.
Now, she needed to find you, to fix this—if it wasn’t too late.
Sevika pushed herself off the couch, her heavy boots thudding against the floor as she made her way toward the bedroom. Her heart sank as she approached the partially open door. She hesitated for a moment, gripping the doorframe for support.
She called out softly, “Hey, babe, are you awake?”
No response.
She stepped into the room, her gaze immediately sweeping across the bed where she’d last seen you. It was empty. The sheets were rumpled, as if you’d sat there for a while before leaving, but there was no sign of you now.
“Y/N?” she called again, louder this time, her voice cracking slightly.
The silence was deafening.
Her heart began to pound in her chest as her eyes darted around the room. Your jacket was missing from the hook near the door. The pair of boots you always wore to work was gone from their usual spot by the dresser. She opened the closet, her stomach twisting when she noticed the gap where some of your clothes had been.
“No,” she whispered, stepping back, her head shaking in disbelief. “No, no, no…”
Her eyes landed on the nightstand. A folded piece of paper sat there, your handwriting scrawled across the front: Sevika.
She froze, her chest tightening. It took her a moment to move, her hands trembling slightly as she picked up the note. Her fingers hesitated at the edge of the fold, almost as if opening it would confirm the reality she was desperate to deny.
Finally, she unfolded the paper and began to read:
Sevika,
I don’t even know where to start. Maybe with “I’m sorry.” Sorry for yelling, for making this harder than it already is. But I think the truth is, we’ve both been making it hard.
I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, even when you make it so damn difficult. I love the woman you are when the walls come down, when it’s just the two of us and the world doesn’t matter. But lately, it feels like I’m the only one fighting for that version of you.
I know you’re hurting. I know life hasn’t been kind to you, and you think drowning yourself in alcohol and shutting everyone out is the only way to cope. But Sevika, it’s killing us.
I need you to understand something: I can’t keep breaking myself to pull you out of the dark. I want to be here for you, but I can’t if you won’t meet me halfway.
I’m leaving. Not because I don’t love you, but because I do. If you ever decide you’re ready to let me in—to let yourself heal—you know where to find me.
~I’m sorry, Y/N.
Her grip on the letter tightened as she read, the words blurring slightly as her eyes burned with tears she refused to let fall. The raw honesty in your words cut deeper than any blade ever could. She sank onto the edge of the bed, the letter trembling in her hand.
She’d always thought she was protecting you by keeping her pain to herself, by drowning it in whiskey and fights. But all she’d done was push you away, the one person who had ever truly cared for her.
Her gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw clenching. She wanted to scream, to punch something, to make this crushing guilt and regret go away, but none of that would bring you back.
Sevika folded the letter carefully, setting it back on the nightstand. For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the empty space where you should’ve been.
Finally, she stood, her resolve hardening. She wouldn’t let this be the end. If you’d left her a chance, any chance, she would take it. She didn’t know where you’d gone, but she’d find you, especially since she had the smallest idea of where.
And when she did, she would prove that she could be better, that she could be the woman you deserved.
Grabbing her coat, she slipped the letter into her pocket and headed for the door, determination etched into her every step.
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The streets of the Undercity were as unforgiving as ever, the air thick with smoke and desperation. Sevika walked with purpose, her boots crunching against the damp cobblestones. Her mind was a storm of emotions—fear, guilt, and determination blending into a volatile mix.
Her destination loomed ahead: Babette’s brothel. The flickering neon sign bathed the surrounding alley in a crimson glow, casting shadows that seemed to taunt her as she approached. She hated this place—not because of what it was, but because it was where you always ran when things got too heavy between the two of you. It was a place you’d told her once made you feel safe, even if Sevika could never understand why.
Sevika pushed open the heavy wooden door, the warm scent of perfume and alcohol hitting her immediately. Inside, the brothel was alive with laughter, soft music, and low murmurs. Velvet drapes hung from the walls, and the dim lighting painted the room in hues of red and gold.
A few of the women lounging near the entrance glanced her way, their smiles faltering when they recognized her. Sevika had a reputation, and it wasn’t one that made people feel comfortable.
She ignored their stares, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Babette. The Madame of the house was seated at her usual spot near the bar, her dark pinkish hair and sharp smile as disarming as ever.
Babette’s gaze flicked to Sevika, and her smile widened, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, well, if it isn’t Zaun’s favorite enforcer. What brings you here, Sevika? Looking for company tonight?”
Sevika didn’t bother with pleasantries. She crossed the room in long, purposeful strides, stopping just short of Babette’s table. “Where is she?”
Babette raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. “You’ll have to be more specific. I have a lot of girls here, darling.”
“You know who I’m talking about,” Sevika growled, her voice low and dangerous. “Where’s Y/N?”
Babette’s playful demeanor faltered for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied Sevika. “You’ve always got some nerve, barging in here like this after what she’s been through.”
Sevika’s jaw tightened. “I don’t have time for this. Just tell me where she is.”
Babette leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs elegantly. “And why should I? Do you have any idea what you’ve put her through? She came here last night, Sevika, crying, shaking, looking for somewhere to feel like she wasn’t drowning. Do you really think I’m just going to send you after her so you can make things worse?”
The words hit Sevika like a punch to the gut, but she refused to let it show. She clenched her metal fist at her side, the faint whirring noise barely audible over the music. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt her. But I need to make this right.”
Babette studied her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed, leaning forward. “You’re lucky she still cares about you, or I wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
Sevika’s heart skipped a beat. “So, where is she?”
“She’s upstairs,” Babette said, her voice softer now, though still tinged with warning. “Room six. But Sevika…”
Sevika paused, looking back at her.
“If you go up there and hurt her again, I won’t let you walk out of here in one piece. Do you understand me?” Babette’s eyes were cold and sharp, her voice like steel.
Sevika nodded, her throat tight. “I understand.”
Without another word, she turned and headed for the staircase, each step feeling heavier than the last.
Room six.
She stopped in front of the door, her hand hovering over the handle. For a moment, she hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She couldn’t afford to let her fear control her now. Finally, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your head resting in your hands. The soft glow of a single lamp bathed the room in golden light, highlighting the tear stains on your cheeks. At the sound of the door opening, you looked up, your eyes widening slightly when you saw her.
“Sevika?” Your voice was a mixture of surprise and exhaustion.
She closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice rough but sincere. “We need to talk.”
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You stared at Sevika, your body tense, unsure whether to let her stay or tell her to leave. The raw vulnerability in her expression—the regret etched into the lines of her face—wasn’t something you saw often. It caught you off guard, softening the sharp edges of your anger.
“What are you doing here, Sevika?” you asked, your voice quiet but strained. “You said everything you needed to say last night.”
She stepped closer, hesitant, her boots barely making a sound on the worn carpet. Her metal hand flexed at her side, the faint whirring a reflection of her nerves. “I was drunk,” she admitted, her tone rough. “But that doesn’t excuse it. None of it does.”
You blinked, unsure if you were hearing her correctly. Sevika wasn’t one to apologize easily, or at all.
She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. “I… I messed up. I’ve been messing up for a while now, and I know I’ve hurt you. You didn’t deserve that.”
“No,” you said, your voice trembling as the tears you thought you’d run out of threatened to return. “I didn’t.”
Her gaze dropped, shame washing over her features. “You’re right. I’ve been pushing you away. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit—my anger, my pride, my damn drinking—that I didn’t see what it was doing to you. To us.”
You swallowed hard, your hands curling into fists in your lap. “Do you even understand how much that hurt? Watching you destroy yourself while I sat there, trying to hold us together? Do you know what it’s like to love someone who won’t let you in?”
“I do,” she said quietly, her voice cracking just enough to make your breath hitch. “Because I’ve been watching you do the same. You’ve been trying to save me, and I’ve been too damn scared to let you.”
The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling between you like a fragile thread. She stepped closer, kneeling in front of you, her metal hand resting on her thigh while her flesh one reached out hesitantly.
“I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “But I want to try. I want to be better, for you, for us. I can’t promise it’ll be easy, but I don’t want to lose you. Please, Y/N.”
Your heart ached at the sight of her, this powerful, stubborn woman kneeling before you, baring her soul in a way she’d never done before. The anger and hurt inside you hadn’t disappeared, but they softened under the weight of her sincerity.
“You hurt me, Sevika,” you whispered, tears spilling down your cheeks. “And I don’t know if I can keep doing this if you won’t fight for us.”
She nodded, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I will. I swear I will. Just give me one more chance. Let me prove it to you.”
You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But then you saw it—the fear in her eyes, the desperation. Sevika, who rarely showed weakness, was letting herself be vulnerable for you.
Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing against hers. Her breath hitched at the contact, and for a moment, neither of you moved.
“I need you to mean it,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the tears. “I need to know you’ll try, Sevika. Not just for me, but for yourself.”
She nodded again, her grip tightening around your hand. “I will. I promise.”
The sincerity in her voice broke something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around her neck. She stiffened for a moment, then melted into the embrace, her arms encircling your waist as she held you tightly.
The tears came for both of you, quiet sobs that filled the room as the tension and pain of the last few weeks spilled out. She buried her face in your shoulder, her body trembling slightly as she clung to you like you were the only thing keeping her grounded.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against your skin, her voice cracking. “I’m so damn sorry.”
“I know,” you murmured, your fingers tangling in her hair. “I know.”
For a long time, neither of you moved, content to stay wrapped in each other’s arms. Eventually, Sevika pulled back just enough to look at you, her face inches from yours. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing away the lingering tears.
“I love you,” she said softly, the words raw and honest.
Your breath hitched, and you leaned into her touch. “I love you too.”
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching yours for permission. When you nodded, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. It wasn’t like the desperate, heated kisses you’d shared in the past. This one was different—softer, filled with unspoken promises and a tentative hope for something better.
When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “I’ll do better,” she murmured. “I swear.”
“I know, I believe you.” You whispered, and for once, you truly did believe it.
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A/N: And now I go back to all the requests I’ve got (a lot of them are on domestic Caitvi)
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nosyp · 3 days ago
Note
saw uu wrote for squid games and had to request !! could you pls write for hyun ju (player 120) x fem reader smut please 🙏🙏 just smth about it being reader’s first time and it’s soft and gentle ?? if ur okay w that ofc 💕
Hehe hi!! Yesyessss i'm okay w it... i just can't guarantee a good one 😔 but i hope u enjoy anyways <3
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Title = Healing Touch
Warning = smut🔞, cum eating, fingering, first time
Summary = After surviving Squid Game, you join a support group and meet Hyun Ju, a former contestant. As you grow closer, your connection deepens, leading to an intimate and healing moment between you both.
Word count = 1.3k
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It had been a few days since the whole ‘squid game’ incident and you’ve recently heard about a squid game survivor group. You overheard it when you were in the bar, apparently ever since the news came out about the whole operation, some past players came forward to help make a support group. And you decided to check it out. The process of joining wasn’t too difficult, all you had to do was fill in your name, age and player number. 
The address leads you to a small alleyway. It didn’t scream ‘trap’ or anything but a feeling of paranoia struck through you as you got closer to it. The shadows loomed, but soon you're greeted by warm light spilling from a cracked door.
Inside, the atmosphere is surprisingly warm despite the eerie nature of the situation. A few folding chairs, scattered papers, and anxious smiles from the other survivors set the tone. They welcomed you like an old friend, even if your paths never crossed during the games. When the session ended, everyone stood up and went different ways. 
And that’s when you spot Hyun Ju. You swore she was player… 120? 121? You didn’t remember but she was quite the player. She won several games, it was quite impressive… not quite… very actually.
She was still sitting on the chair, despite the session already ending. She was all by herself and her posture was relaxed yet guarded, as if she were still sizing up the room. Something about her aura drew you in, perhaps it was her strength, or maybe just the faint glimmer of vulnerability she couldn’t quite hide.
Deciding to take a chance, you crossed the room and greeted her.
“Hyun Ju, right? Player 120?” you asked, hesitating for just a moment. Calling her a random player number was a huge gamble, but you were quite sure it ended with a 0.
Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, her expression shifting from guarded to curious. “That’s me,” she said, her voice softer than you expected. “And you are?”
You introduced yourself, giving your name and player number. Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, as though she were trying to place you in her memory. Then, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“I remember you,” she said. “You were… quiet. But you made it pretty far.”
You nodded, unsure whether to feel flattered or exposed. “Yeah, I guess I kept my head down. But you- you were incredible. You made everything look so easy.”
Hyun Ju chuckled, a sound that felt surprisingly warm in the somber atmosphere. “Easy? Trust me, it wasn’t. But thanks.”
An awkward silence hung between you for a moment before she gestured to the empty seat next to her. “You can sit, if you want. It’s nice to talk to someone who… gets it.”
You sat down, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. The conversation flowed naturally after that, starting with shared memories of the games and gradually moving to lighter topics. You found yourself laughing at her dry humor and sharp wit, feeling a connection form between you that you hadn’t expected.
As the meeting wound down, Hyun Ju glanced at you with a thoughtful expression. “Do you… want to grab a coffee or something? I could use some normalcy, and you seem like good company.”
Surprised but pleased, you nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
She smiled, and for the first time in days, you felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, life after the games wouldn’t be so bad.
Then she suddenly brought up the topic about partners and lovers. 
“I-I actually… never had a serious relationship before,” you mention, making her perk up in surprise.
“Ehh?? Forreal?” she asks you.
“Y-yeah…” you answer.
“So… you’ve never… uhmm…?” she asks awkwardly, hand rubbing the back of her neck.
“No…” you respond, giving a light chuckle at the end in an attempt to save both of you from the awkwardness.
��
Honestly, you didn’t even know what happened but now… you were suddenly being pinned onto the wall by her. For a moment, everything froze in time. Hyun Ju's breath hovers near your skin while your heart pounded inside you as she loomed over you. The distance between you both feels electric, yet there’s a hesitance, like the air itself is waiting for something to happen.
Her hands are warm against your skin, a subtle pressure as they roam slowly over your body. Your pulse quickens, body reacting before your mind can even catch up. The proximity of her form, her breath, it’s overwhelming, and you can't help but lean into it, just slightly, as though wanting more.
Hyun Ju's voice is low, like she’s savoring the moment. "Are you sure you want this?" she asks, her lips dangerously close to your ear. Everything about her was so soft. She was so gentle with you, as if you’d break if she added just a bit more force.
There’s an unspoken understanding between you two now. Her fingers brush against your neck softly. Her lips hovering yours just a breath away, and for a moment, everything feels unreal. The world outside fades, leaving just the two of you in this… space together.
You tilt your head slightly, your lips parted in silent invitation. She doesn’t hesitate, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s slow at first, but with the quiet promise of more to come.
Her hands tug at the hem of your shirt and her eyes look at yours, waiting for your permission. When you finally give her the affirming nod, she takes her time on pulling your clothes off, so as to not harm you. Finally, your pants are stripped off and she gives you a warning look.
“Please tell me if it hurts…” she says. You nod in response.
Her hands start to trail down… and down… until she reaches your folds. Gently, she shoves her index finger in ever so slowly. It was starting to feel agonising… you wanted her to go a bit faster but you just bit your tongue and let her do her thing.
She pumped her fingers in and out of you, coating her finger with your wetness. 
“P-Please…” you whimper, asking for more.
Her other hand then started roaming around your body more, the heat transferring to your skin. Your body was starting to feel hot… but not in a sick way… in a desperate way. Then, she slowly slipped another finger into you. 
“A-ahh! H-Hyun Ju…” you moan. “Mmmh…!”
She started going faster, but still not fast enough to hurt you. The friction made you so close. The feeling was painful, you just wanted to release that very moment. The way her skillful fingers thrusted in and out of you felt like ecstasy. Your hand covered your mouth to minimize the moans and you… released your first orgasm. Your cum covered her fingers and she brought it up to show you.
“I-I have tissues in my bag…” you said breathlessly.
“No need…” she says before licking off your fluids.
Then her hand gently cupped your cheek, fingers brushing softly over your cheek. Slowly, she leaned in, her forehead meeting yours in a tender, lingering touch. The contact was warm, grounding, as if she was seeking comfort in the closeness. 
Your breath started to steady in the quiet space between you. For a moment, everything else faded, nothing else mattered. The world, the noise, the tension and all that existed was the warmth of her skin and the weight of her hand on your cheek. The simple, intimate gesture felt like a promise, a silent understanding, deepening the connection between you.
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helioooss · 1 day ago
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pulling your face close, wanting the inmost
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synopsis: its been three years since minjeong left y/n waiting at the altar. throughout it all, jimin comes along.
w/c: 4.5k+
warnings: angst, blood (you’re a doctor), fluff. winter x you x karina
a/n: do you think my sleepless nights will make me insane? be honest. also meant to be really short but got carried away
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the train rattled as it sped through the early seoul morning, its harsh fluorescent lights bouncing off the windows and flickering faintly above you; hunched in the corner, staring blankly at the window; your scrubs noticeably wrinkled from the rushed way you’d thrown them on.
the person in the reflection was unrecognisable: hollow cheeks and dark circles etched like shadows beneath tired eyes — you were gaunt, tired; a reminder that the polished version of yourself, the one that used to smile, laugh and plan for a future, was long gone.
it screeched to a halt, jerking you out of whatever trance you were just in. as everyone else stood from their seats, you grabbed your bag and sighed; the weight of the day ahead pressing down on your shoulders.
your fingers tapped absently on your thigh as it slowed down, the doors automatically sliding open and you filed out with the rest of the crowd while keeping your head low.
the walk to the hospital from here wasn’t far, but you stopped at the station exit, digging a cigarette from your pocket. just one. it wasn’t a habit you were proud of, but it helped, even if only for a moment.
your hands trembled as you lit it and the first drag stung your lungs in a way that briefly drowned out everything else.
the memories clawed their way in anyway.
three years. it had been three years since minjeong walked out of your life without a word. she didn’t show up on the day that was supposed to mark your forever. no note. no call.
nothing but an empty altar and the stares of everyone you’d gathered to celebrate a love that, you’d come to realise, wasn’t as mutual as you believed.
it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.
mingyu came back into the picture. you had seen the rumours floating around online weeks before the wedding, fans gushing over how they spotted him and minjeong leaving the same restaurant; smiling like they used to in the good old days.
you asked her about it once, casually, your voice steady even though your heart raced. “did you see mingyu recently?”
she’d looked at you then, her expression unreadable, and shrugged. “it was just a friendly dinner. nothing to worry about.”
and like the fool you were, you believed her.
you exhaled sharply, watching the smoke curl into the crisp morning air. the morning rush of people already blurring into nothingness.
another day. another shift. another chance to bury yourself in the monotony of work. shaking your head, you snuffed the cigarette under your heel and started walking.
asan medical center loomed ahead, its sterile walls a familiar cage. work was your only escape now. it was ironic, really — the same place where you met her, where your love story began, was now the place you buried yourself to forget her.
by the time you arrived, you instantly slipped into your usual routine: quiet, focused and distant. the staff knew you as a good doctor — reliable, efficient and calm under pressure, but they also knew you as someone impossible to get close to.
“morning y/n,” jiwoo greeted as she walked into the staff room, her tone overly chipper. she was one of the few residents who still tried to engage with you, even though your responses were always curt.
“morning,” you mumbled, not bothering to look up as you stirred a spoonful of sugar into your coffee.
“how was your day off?”
“fine,” you said shortly. “just stayed home.”
she frowned. “you should go out sometime. have fun. meet people.”
“i’m fine,” you shook your head, taking a sip of the still bitter liquid. “i love my dog’s company.”
she hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but eventually gave up as her shoulders slouched. “let me know if you ever want to hang out sometime, yeah? perhaps, you can even bring rome around.”
you nodded, not really hearing her. the truth was, you didn’t want to talk. not to her, not to anyone. talking meant opening up, and opening up meant risking another heartbreak. you couldn’t do it again.
three years ago, you would’ve been a different person — someone who laughed easily, loved deeply and believed in forever.
today, you were someone who stood in front of a room full of people, trying to find an explanation through tears because the woman you loved had run away. the embarrassment of that day still clung to you, a weight you couldn’t shake. there was nothing you could do except apologise to everyone — your parents, her parents, the guests.
but mostly, you apologised to yourself, for believing that you were enough for her.
it hit you the hardest that night, when you were alone in your flat, still dressed in your wedding suit that had taken you weeks to pick out.
the silence was deafening then, and for the first time, you realised she never loved you the way you loved her.
you didn’t hate her. you wanted to — god, you wanted to hate her. but you couldn’t. she was still the same woman who once made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drag you out of the rain just to kiss; the person who knew you the most.
she was still the love of your life.
and that was the cruelest part of it all.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the day was dragging in the way only hospital shifts could. fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead and the faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, clinging to your scrubs. your shoulders were tight, weighed down by exhaustion and the kind of hollow loneliness you’ve since stopped trying to fight.
you were scanning through patient charts at the nurses’ station when you heard her voice — bright and teasing, cutting like sunlight through thick curtains.
“there she is,” she called out as she strode towards you, a paper bag in one hand and a bottle of iced coffee in the other.
you groaned inwardly; not another one.
jimin was the last person you wanted to see. her presence was like a splash of colour in a grey world, drawing the attention of everyone around her.
“what are you doing here?” you asked, your tone more clipped than you intended.
she ignored the edge in your voice, plopping the bag onto the desk in front of you. “bringing you lunch, obviously. you’ve been skipping meals, haven’t you?”
“i’m fine,” you replied, already turning back to the chart in your hands.
“you’re always ‘fine,’” she said, rolling her eyes. “and yet you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“what do you want from me?” you groaned, exhaling heavily as you closed the charts and began your stride towards the staff room.
it was easier to deal with her alone than be surrounded by people gossiping: what is minjeong’s best friend doing with her ex-fiancée?
“checking on you, obviously,” she said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “also, you skipped lunch again. so…” she quickened her pace behind you. “rina brought reinforcements.”
you sighed, glancing at her briefly. her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and she was dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans.
for someone constantly in the public eye, she had a way of blending in when she wanted to.
“i didn’t ask for reinforcements,” you muttered, opening the door for her. “and i don’t need checking on daily.”
“clearly,” she replied, sarcasm lacing her tone as she looked up at you. “because you’re the picture of health and happiness.”
you shook your head. “you’re so…ugh, just something else.”
she opened the bag on the table, the smell immediately greeting your starved senses. “that’s why i brought food because if i left it up to you, you’d just keep surviving on coffee and whatever snacks you find lying around.”
you didn’t answer. you knew she meant well. jimin was one of the few people who hadn’t given up on you, even after you’d pushed her away countless times.
she started visiting you a year after the wedding-that-wasn’t, showing up with coffee, proper meals or just her company. you didn’t know why she bothered and you weren’t sure you wanted to.
“it’s your favourite,” she added, sliding the box towards you. “spicy pork and rice. come on, don’t make me waste a good meal.”
the smell of the food wafted up to you as you hesitated. it had been hours since you’d eaten and your stomach growled in betrayal. reluctantly, you grabbed the chopsticks and opened the container.
“there we go,” she said with a grin, settling into the chair across from you as she opened her own container; tonkatsu.
“you’re persistent,” you told her, taking a bite.
“someone has to be,” she replied, her voice softer now.
for a while, the only sound between you was the quiet clink of chopsticks against the container as you both ate in solitude. but jimin wasn’t the kind of person to let silence linger for long.
“how long are you planning to keep this up?” she asked suddenly as she threw her container into the bag, breaking the silence.
“keep what up?” you replied without looking at her, focusing instead on stabbing at a piece of pork with your chopsticks.
“this,” she said, gesturing vaguely at you. “the whole ‘lone wolf who doesn’t need anyone’ thing. it’s getting old.”
you sighed, not bothering to look up. “why do you care?”
“because i do,” she said simply, her tone infuriatingly casual.
you rolled your eyes, setting your chopsticks down with a little more force than necessary. “rina, we barely know each other these days. why do you bother to check in on me almost everyday?”
“i don’t know,” her grin faded, replaced by something more serious. “you were minjeong’s everything. and, for what it’s worth, she was my best friend. so maybe i care because i know what it’s like to be left behind by her too. or maybe, i simply just care about you.”
the words hit you harder than you expected. you looked up at her for the first time, caught off guard by the raw honesty in her voice.
“she left you too,” you said quietly, more a statement than a question.
she nodded, leaning back in her chair. “she was my anchor, you know? and then, one day, she was just…gone. no explanation, no goodbye. sound familiar?”
you swallowed hard, the ache in your chest growing sharper. “yeah, it does.”
for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken grief and the strange sense of kinship that came with it.
after awhile, jimin cleared her throat, the light teasing tone slipping back into her voice as she watched you clean up. “so,” she began, “how’s rome? still the world’s most dramatic sausage dog?”
your chopsticks paused mid-air. rome. yours and minjeong’s dachshund. or just your sausage dog now, since she’d left. he’d been one of the few things that kept you going after she disappeared, a small source of comfort in a world that felt unbearably empty.
you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “he’s fine,” you said cautiously, not quite ready to let your guard down.
she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “just ‘fine’? come on, y/n. give me something.”
you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “he’s good. healthy. still hates the postman.”
“classic rome,” she said, laughing softly. “does he still steal your socks?”
“every chance he gets,” you admitted, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “he buried one of my favourite pairs in the garden last week. i didn’t even know he could dig that deep.”
“a true criminal mastermind,” she laughed. “i miss him.”
you tilted your head, studying her for a moment. “i don’t think he hasn’t forgotten you.”
her smile faltered slightly, her gaze dropping to the table. “good, i’d like to bother him sometime.”
you nodded, not pushing further. the silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before, but it still carried the weight of everything unsaid.
“i have to go back to work soon,” you muttered slowly. “thanks for bringing me lunch, again.”
she leaned forward once more, resting her elbows on the table. “you know, you’re a lot nicer when you talk about rome.”
“am i?” you said dryly, raising an eyebrow.
“yeah,” she chuckled, grinning. “maybe you should bring him to work. he could be a therapy dog or something.”
“not sure the hospital would appreciate that,” you replied, shaking your head.
“probably not,” she agreed. “you talk about him more than you talk about yourself.”
“what’s there to talk about?” you asked, avoiding her gaze.
“a lot,” she said simply. “but you won’t let anyone in long enough to find out.”
“maybe because there’s nothing worth finding out,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended.
she didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. “i don’t really believe that. i know you.”
you opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat because a small part of you, buried beneath the layers of grief and anger and self-imposed isolation, wanted to believe she was right.
“you don’t have to do this, you know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “come here. check on me. it’s…unnecessary.”
“it’s not about necessity — it’s about wanting to. and i want to, y/n. because whether you believe it or not, you matter to me,” then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she added, “you know what you should do? come to dinner with us tonight. aeri is hosting dinner at her place. yizhuo will be there too and they’d love to see you.”
“i don’t know…i’m not really built for —“
“they miss you,” she cut you off gently. “we all do. you don’t have to stay long. just come, have some food, catch up. it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
you frowned, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your lunch container. “i’m not great at…socialising these days.”
“that’s fine,” she reassured, her voice soft. “just come as you are. no one’s expecting anything from you.”
you hesitated, torn between the comfort of your solitude and the faint pull of connection her words stirred in you. “i’ll think about it,” you said finally, though the words felt like an excuse.
for a moment, you let yourself wonder what it would be like to let her in, to let someone care about you again. but the fear of losing her — of losing anyone — was too much.
“don’t just think about it,” she said, standing up and grabbing her things. “you’re coming. i’ll pick you up after your shift. and don’t even think about bailing.”
“rina —”
“i mean it, y/n,” she cut you off with a grin that somehow felt more like a challenge. “we’ll eat at aeri’s. it’ll be fun. you might even smile. who knows?”
you shook your head, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at your lips as you watched her walk away. she paused at the door, turning back to look at you.
“and bring pictures of rome,” she added. “aeri and yizhuo will want to see how much of a menace he’s become.”
you didn’t respond, but you nodded, the warmth of her persistence lingering even after she was gone. as you returned to your rounds, you caught yourself thinking about her smile, her persistence, her refusal to give up on you.
you hated how it made you feel. hated the tiny flicker of warmth it sparked in a heart you had sworn to keep cold.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the shift had been surprisingly uneventful. for once, you weren’t racing from one emergency to the next and the patients you saw were mostly routine cases; check-ups, minor injuries, nothing life-threatening. as the hours dragged on, you found yourself in a slightly better mood than usual, a rare occurrence these days.
the thought of dinner at aeri’s later still felt strange, but not as daunting as it had earlier. perhaps it was the conversation with jimin, or maybe you were just too tired to keep holding up the walls you’d built around yourself.
jiwoo, ever persistent in her cheerful attempts to connect with you, caught up with you as you clocked out. “you seemed a bit more relaxed today,” she said, her tone light but teasing. “you’re not scaring off the patients as much.”
you smirked faintly, shaking your head. “glad to know i’m improving.”
as the two of you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. you pulled out your nearly empty cigarette box, shaking one out with practised ease. the box crinkled, reminding you that you’d bought it only yesterday. you lit up, the flame from your lighter flickering briefly before catching.
she wrinkled her nose. “you really should quit, you know.”
“yeah, yeah,” you muttered, exhaling smoke into the air. “everyone’s a critic.”
she folded her arms, watching you for a moment before changing the subject. “so…karina from aespa really just brings you lunch sometimes? i feel like you’re pulling my leg.”
you chuckled softly, the sound surprising both of you. “it’s true. we know each other from my…better days.”
she tilted her head, curiosity written all over her face. “what does that mean?”
you hesitated, taking another drag from your cigarette. “we were friends. through minjeong.”
her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t press further. she’d been around long enough to know your ex was a subject best avoided. instead, she smiled softly. “must be nice to have someone like that still looking out for you.”
“it is,” you admitted quietly, unintentionally exhaling curls of smoke towards her direction. “sorry.”
she chuckled, shaking her head. “it’s okay — and you seem really bright around her, you know? i think she brings out the best in you.”
you hummed, nodding as you stubbed the cigarette under your shoe. “she’s just a friend; nothing more.”
minjeong and jimin. two names you hadn’t expected to be tied together so tightly in your mind. yet, lately, it was impossible not to think of one without the other.
minjeong had been everything to you once. she was the love you thought would last forever, the one you trusted with all of yourself. and even though she had shattered you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. there was a part of you that would always respect what you shared, even if it ended so painfully.
and then there was jimin. minjeong’s best friend. the one who had been there long before you entered the picture. the one who probably knew minjeong better than anyone else.
it felt…strange, wrong even, to start seeing jimin in a way that might be more than friendship. you respected her too much — her persistence, her kindness, the way she stayed by your side when no one else could reach you. she wasn’t just some comforting presence in your life; she was someone you admired deeply.
before jiwoo could say anything else, a sleek black car pulled up to the kerb. jimin leaned out of the driver’s side window, her signature grin lighting up her face. “well, well. look who’s socialising.”
her jaw practically dropped. “oh my god, it really is her.”
jimin waved casually. “hey, jiwoo, right? need a lift? there’s plenty of room.”
jiwoo blushed furiously, waving her hands. “oh, no, no. my boyfriend’s coming to pick me up. but thanks.”
“suit yourself,” she said, winking playfully before turning her attention to you. “you ready?”
you nodded, giving jiwoo a small wave before slipping into the passenger seat. the car smelled like leather and a faint hint of vanilla, a stark contrast to the cigarette smoke still clinging to your scrubs.
“you reek of cigarettes, you know,” she pointed out as she pulled out onto the road, her tone more teasing than scolding. “how many have you had today?”
you shrugged, leaning your head against the window. “i don’t count.”
“you should. your lungs aren’t invincible, doctor,” she quipped, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.
you smirked faintly. “and you’re suddenly a health expert?”
“no,” she admitted, grinning. “but i care about you not hacking up a lung in ten years.”
the corners of your mouth twitched, the warmth of her concern nudging at the edges of your guarded heart. you changed the subject, gesturing at the car’s pristine interior. “nice car.”
“of course it’s nice,” she replied, flashing a proud smile. “you think i’d settle for anything less?”
you chuckled softly, shaking your head. “why do you think i catch the train, then?”
she glanced at you, curious. “i always wondered about that. you can afford a car. why put yourself through that misery?”
you hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. “because…i don’t know. it makes me feel better. seeing a million other miserable people in the train. reminds me i’m not the only one stuck in this mess.”
jimin didn’t respond immediately, her grip on the wheel tightening slightly. when she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “you’re not as miserable as you think, y/n.”
you huffed a small laugh, not entirely believing her but appreciating the sentiment. “sure.”
the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, just reflective. it was jimin who broke it. “do you need to stop anywhere before we head to aeri’s?”
you hesitated for a moment before nodding. “can we stop at my apartment? i need to feed rome and shower. i smell like the hospital.”
“of course,” she said, her tone brightening. “you know, i don’t mind. i’m just happy to hear more than two words out of you.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the faint smile tugging at your lips. “don’t get used to it.”
“too late,” she quipped, her grin widening as she turned the car towards your apartment.
the rest of the ride to your place was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. you found yourself glancing at her more than you intended, the soft light highlighting the gentle curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell just so around her face. she was undeniably beautiful.
it wasn’t something you hadn’t noticed before —jimin had always been striking, but sitting this close to her, the air between you filled with the faint scent of her perfume, it felt different.
more intimate.
your gaze lingered on her profile, tracing the slope of her nose, the soft pink of her lips, the way her expression relaxed whenever the traffic eased. the thought crept into your mind unbidden, catching you off guard: she’s really beautiful.
the streets blurred past, but your mind was elsewhere, swirling with a mixture of confusion and guilt. it felt wrong to think about her like that when she was minjeong’s best friend.
it was complicated enough having her in your life so prominently now. you couldn’t add feelings to the mix.
“what’s wrong?” jimin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.
you turned to see her glancing at you briefly before returning her focus to the road. her question made your heart race slightly and you felt heat creeping up your neck.
“nothing,” you said quickly, your voice betraying your awkwardness.
she smirked, clearly unconvinced. “you’ve been quiet. and you keep looking at me. what’s going on in that head of yours?”
you swallowed hard, your palms suddenly feeling clammy. you debated brushing it off, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. “you…you just look nice today, that’s all.”
the silence that followed was deafening. her grip on the steering wheel faltered slightly and her cheeks flushed a soft pink, lips parting as if she was going to say something, but she quickly pressed them together, biting back a grin.
“shut up,” she said finally, her voice quieter than usual, but the blush on her face betrayed her.
you felt your own cheeks burn, suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you were in the small car.
“i was just saying,” you mumbled, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag.
“yeah, well, don’t,” she shot back, though her tone was more playful than serious.
the tension between you was palpable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was something else entirely, something neither of you was ready to name.
the car rolled to a stop just outside your apartment building, its headlights briefly illuminating the cracked pavement. you unbuckled your seatbelt, glancing up at the familiar, worn façade of the place you’d called home for years. it looked the same, but somehow it always felt emptier every time you came back.
“hey,” jimin began, her voice breaking through your thoughts. “can i please see rome? just for a minute. aeri and yizhuo will be so jealous.”
you frowned, your hand pausing on the door handle. “my apartment’s a mess. i haven’t had anyone over in a long time.”
“i don’t care,” she said easily, her grin unfaltering. “you should see the state of mine. you’d think i was filming a disaster documentary.”
you sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “fine. but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
she flashed a triumphant smile. “deal.”
in the elevator, you found yourself uncharacteristically aware of her presence. it wasn’t just that she was your ex-fiancée’s ex-best friend — it was the fact that, even after everything, jimin was still here, still trying to pull you out of the dark pit you had thrown yourself into.
you shifted awkwardly, your hand trembling slightly at your side. the metal walls of the elevator seemed to amplify your unease. without a word, she reached over and gently squeezed your hand. her grip was steady, grounding, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to hold on.
“it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
you didn’t respond, but her touch was enough to steady you.
as soon as you unlocked the door, the sound of tiny paws skittering across the hardwood floor filled the air. rome came bounding towards you, his tail wagging so hard it looked like it might fall off.
“romie,” you said, your voice softening for the first time all day. you crouched down to pet him, his fur warm and familiar against your hand.
jimin let out an audible gasp. “oh my god. he’s even cuter than i remember.” she immediately dropped her bag and scooped him up, cradling him like a baby. “hi, buddy. remember me?”
he licked her face enthusiastically, his little legs wriggling in her arms. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight, even as you stood up and rubbed the back of your neck.
“make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the apartment. “i’m going to get ready.”
she nodded, her attention fully on rome. “take your time. we’re going to have a bonding moment.”
as you disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water began to echo faintly, muffled by the door you’d closed behind you. she sat on the edge of your sofa with rome, her eyes wandering around your apartment.
the place was cleaner than she expected — it wasn’t messy, but it felt bare. the walls were stripped of personality and there wasn’t a single photo or decoration to suggest that anyone else had once shared this space with you. it was a stark contrast to the way she remembered it years ago, when minjeong had still been part of your life.
now, it was as if you had erased every trace of her.
her gaze drifted to the kitchen counter, where an open bottle of whiskey sat next to a half-empty glass. there were other bottles too, some empty, others half-finished, lined up neatly on the sideboard. her chest tightened at the sight, and she had to swallow the sudden lump in her throat.
all she wanted to do was love you. all of you. the person you were now, the person you had been before, even the parts that you were trying to bury under layers of pain and grief.
jimin leaned back against the sofa, letting out a soft sigh as her thoughts turned inward. it should feel wrong, this pull she felt toward you. you were minjeong’s ex-fiancée. she had been your everything once. she had seen it firsthand — the way the two of you fit together, the quiet understanding in your shared glances; your love seemed unshakable.
and yet, here she was, sitting in your apartment, waiting for you while you showered, her heart heavy with feelings she couldn’t push away.
she didn’t know when it had started. this shift in how she saw you. maybe it was that day at the hospital, months ago. she’d been visiting aeri and yizhuo and wanted to bring you lunch when she passed by the paediatrics ward and caught sight of you comforting a young boy.
he had been crying, terrified of getting his vaccinations and you’d knelt down to his level, your voice soft and reassuring.
“it’s okay,” you reassured in a gentle tone, holding out your hand for him to squeeze. “you’re so brave. and once it’s over, you’ll get a cool sticker. how about that?”
the boy had stopped crying long enough to nod and you smiled at him — wide, genuine and full of warmth. it had been the first time she had seen you smile like that in years.
all it took was that one moment.
she had tried to suppress her feelings after that. tried to remind herself of the boundaries she needed to keep but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about you.
she had gone on dates, tried seeing other people, hoping it would dull the ache but none of them made her feel the way you did.
no one else mattered. it was maddening as it was terrifying, but it was also undeniable.
jimin ran a hand through her hair, her fingers brushing against the back of her neck as she let out another sigh. aeri and yizhuo didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with how she felt.
“i don’t really see the problem,” aeri had said bluntly one night over dinner, shrugging as she picked her rice. “minjeong packed up and left her old life behind. what’s the problem?”
“you’re not stealing anyone’s woman,” yizhuo chimed in with a smirk, earning a glare from jimin.
“it’s not that simple,” jimin argued, though their words had lingered.
now, sitting here in your apartment, surrounded by the quiet evidence of your pain, she felt the full weight of her feelings.
she wasn’t just drawn to you — she was in love with you. completely, overwhelmingly in love.
the water shut off and the apartment grew silent. she straightened slightly, her heart pounding as she heard you moving around in the bathroom. she didn’t know if she could ever say it out loud, but in this moment, she didn’t need to.
“he likes you,” you said as you stepped out, nodding towards rome, who was now curled up in her lap, his eyes half-closed in contentment.
“what’s not to like?” she replied, scratching behind his ears. “he’s a smart dog. clearly knows quality people when he sees them.”
“right, of course,” you gave a faint smile, leaning against the doorframe. “ready to go?”
“yeah,” she said, reluctantly setting rome down. she grabbed her bag and followed you to the door, glancing back once at the apartment before stepping out.
as you rode down in the elevator, the silence between you was comfortable this time. she didn’t say anything about the empty walls or the whiskey, but when she handed you her car keys so you could unlock the door for her, her fingers brushed against yours and the gesture spoke louder than any words could.
…this shouldn’t be happening.
when the doors slid open to the ground floor, jimin spun her keys around her finger, her expression bright with mischief. she tossed them towards you without warning, the metal jingling as they flew through the air.
“you’re driving,” she declared, slipping into the passenger seat before you could argue.
you caught the keys instinctively, furrowing your brow. “why?”
“because,” she said, already buckling her seatbelt, “i want to test your driving skills. it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
you gave her an unimpressed look, holding the keys loosely in your hand. “you just want to be a passenger princess.”
she gasped theatrically, clutching at her chest like you just insulted her deepest values. “how dare you. i am not a passenger princess.”
“sure,” you said, shaking your head as you got into the driver’s seat. “whatever you say.”
jimin smirked, leaning back into the seat with a smug expression. “prove me wrong then. show me you can still handle a car like the pro you are.”
you rolled your eyes but started the car anyway, the familiar hum of the engine filling the space between you. as you adjusted the mirrors and pulled out onto the street, you couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at your lips.
for the first time in a while, the banter felt easy, even enjoyable.
but then, without thinking, the words slipped out.
“minjeong used to do that,” you muttered softly, almost to yourself. “she would always make me drive so she could either pick the music or nap.”
the air in the car shifted instantly, the lightness replaced by something heavier. you stiffened, gripping the steering wheel tightly as you realised what you said. your eyes stayed firmly on the road, the silence between you now deafening.
she didn’t speak right away and for a moment, you wished the earth would just swallow you whole.
then, she broke the silence, her voice softer, more careful. “you know…it’s okay to talk about her, i don’t mind.”
you blinked, your knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. “is it?” you said flatly, though there was no anger in your tone, just weariness.
“yeah,” she replied turning slightly to face you. “it’s okay to acknowledge that she existed. that you loved her even though she hurt you, pretending she didn’t matter isn’t going to help you move on.”
you swallowed hard, throat tightening. the logical part of you knew she was right, but the emotional part; the one that still felt raw and exposed whenever minjeong’s name came up wasn’t ready to admit it.
so you said nothing, the silence stretching uncomfortably again.
after a minute of beating around the bush, jimin sighed softly, her voice tinged with regret. “sorry. i didn’t mean to push. i just —”
“it’s fine,” you interrupted, surprising even yourself with the quiet sincerity in your voice. you glanced at her briefly, a small, genuine smile crossing your face. “really.”
she relaxed visibly, her shoulders dropping as the tension eased. “okay,” she said, her own smile returning, though it was softer this time.
as you drove, jimin’s own thoughts began to spiral. hearing you talk about minjeong felt like a punch to the gut, but she couldn’t blame you. she was your first love, the one who had taken up all the space in your heart before it was broken.
how could she even try to compete with that?
she knew there was a part of you that might never stop loving minjeong, no matter how much time passed.
she glanced at you again, catching the way your shoulders had relaxed slightly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at your lips.
it doesn’t matter how long it takes, she thought to herself. i’ll wait. for as long as it takes, i’ll wait for her.
when you pulled up to aeri’s apartment building, jimin hopped out of the car, clearly energised. she waited for you to join her, rocking on her heels as you locked the car behind you.
“ready for the chaos?” she asked, flashing a grin.
“as ready as i’ll ever be,” you muttered, following her into the lift as you took the luxurious sight in. “god, she’s expensive as ever, isn’t she?”
she chuckled, tapping your arm lightly. “don’t say anything about it or else you’re going to start a fight.”
the elevator doors slid shut with a soft hum, the quiet clink of the mechanisms filling the small space. you stood beside her, your hand clutching the strap of your bag as your stomach twisted with nerves.
it had been years since you had last been to aeri’s apartment, and now, as the numbers on the elevator panel lit up one by one, the memories began flooding back.
everything felt heavier in your chest — the last time you were here, everything was different. you hadn’t seen those girls properly in so long and the thought of walking into a space that had once felt so familiar left you uneasy.
jimin, standing close to you, noticed the slight tremour in your hand. without a word, she reached over and gently squeezed it once more, her fingers warm and firm against yours.
“you’re okay,” she said softly, her voice steady. “it’s just aeri and yizhuo. they’re gonna be so happy to see you.”
you nodded but didn’t say anything, focusing instead on the way her hand steadied your own. as the elevator neared the top floor, she started to pull away, her fingers slipping from yours.
but you held on, tightening your grip instinctively. “can you —” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “just for a bit longer.”
she didn’t say anything, but her fingers curled back around yours, holding on tightly. the two of you stood like that in silence, the elevator’s hum filling the space; it felt like the calm before a storm you weren’t sure you could weather alone.
the elevator dinged and you stepped into the hallway with jimin by your side. your hand was still holding hers from earlier, though you hadn’t realised it until she glanced down briefly, her fingers tightening just a little before she let go.
“sorry,” you awkwardly mumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks.
“don’t be.”
the warmth lingered even as you adjusted the strap of your bag and followed her toward aeri’s door; it opened before you could even knock.
“y/n!” aeri’s voice was the first thing you heard, loud and filled with surprise and excitement. “no way, it’s really you!”
you barely had time to blink before she lunged forward, throwing her arms around your neck and dragging you into a tight hug. before you could respond, a second body crashed into you from the side — yizhuo, her laughter echoing through the hallway.
“oh my gosh, she’s actually here,” yizhuo said, her grin wide as she squeezed you tightly. “rina, what the hell did you do to her? hypnosis? bribery? a chloroform rag?”
“definitely drugged her bubble tea,” aeri chimed in, her face still buried in your shoulder. “there’s no way y/n came here willingly.”
“guys, get off me!” you laughed, trying to push them away, but your voice lacked any real force. their energy was infectious, and though part of you wanted to retreat, a bigger part…one you hadn’t felt in years just wanted to stay in this moment.
“nope,” yizhuo groaned, holding on even tighter. “you don’t get to vanish for two years and show up out of nowhere like nothing happened. you’re gonna deal with this. this being us smothering you with love.”
“you should be grateful,” aeri added with a smirk, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. “this is premium-grade affection. we don’t just give this to anyone.”
jimin stood to the side, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “i didn’t drug her, by the way,” she said casually, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “she came because she missed you guys. obviously.”
“liar,” yizhuo shot back, narrowing her eyes. “there’s no way y/n came willingly. what’s your secret, jimin? blackmail? compromising photos?”
“it was the bubble tea,” jimin said, straight-faced. “i spiked it with nostalgia.”
“sounds like you put something stronger than nostalgia in there,” aeri quipped, her grin widening.
you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “you guys are ridiculous.”
“you missed us,” yizhuo said smugly, finally releasing you from her grip. “admit it.”
“maybe,” you muttered, smoothing down your shirt. “a little.”
aeri gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “a little? i’m hurt. offended, even.”
jimin stepped forward, pulling out her phone. “hold still,” she said, her grin mischievous. “this is a historic moment.”
“don’t you dare,” you warned, your voice rising in mock panic as she aimed the camera at the three of you.
the flash went off before you could stop her, capturing a candid shot of aeri still clinging to your side, yizhuo laughing uncontrollably and you mid-protest with a faint smile tugging at your lips.
“perfect,” jimin said, already typing away as she uploaded the photo to her story. “caption: my three idiots.”
“three?” aeri asked, raising an eyebrow. “don’t you mean two idiots and one innocent victim?”
“you’re definitely the biggest idiot here,” yizhuo smirked at her. “but it’s okay. we still love you.”
“barely,” jimin quipped, her tone teasing as she slid her phone back into her pocket.
the apartment buzzed with laughter and conversation as the four of you settled in for dinner. the table was covered in food — aeri’s version of cooking: ramen, pizza boxes, bowls of chips and a bottle of wine that she had insisted on opening way before dinner.
“so,” aeri began, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “doctor, what have you been up to? saving lives? breaking hearts? fighting crime?”
“you act like i’ve been doing something exciting,” you shook your head as you picked at your pizza. “it’s just been work. and more work.”
“classic y/n,” yizhuo threw her hands up dramatically. “always married to the job.”
“it’s a demanding spouse,” you joked, surprising yourself at how easily the humour came.
“does it at least make you breakfast in bed?” aeri teased, wagging her eyebrows.
“nope,” you replied, smirking. “just gives me migraines.”
“sounds toxic,” jimin said, her voice light. “you should break up with it.”
“and do what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “become a full-time boba taster?”
“not a bad idea,” yizhuo chimed in, taking another bite of her slice. “you’d have jimin’s full support.”
aeri shrugged. “or you could just be her housewife. she’s a millionaire, you know?”
you dared to steal a glance, expecting jimin to brush off their teasing, but instead, she was looking right at you. her gaze was steady, her lips tugged into the faintest smile.
the way she looked at you sent your heart racing and you quickly looked away, focusing on the slice of pizza in your hand as if it held all the answers in the universe.
as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, your initial nervousness melting away under the warmth of their banter. but then your eyes wandered to the wall across the room, where a cluster of framed photos hung.
they were all of aespa — smiling, performing, and posing together in various moments that captured their bond. your gaze caught one in particular: minjeong standing between aeri and yizhuo, her face frozen in time among her friends.
the memories threatened to creep in, but before they could overwhelm you, you felt jimin’s gaze on you. you glanced over and she was already smiling softly, her expression reassuring. it was enough to steady you, to remind you that it was okay to feel what you felt.
“we haven’t done much since minjeong left,” aeri’s voice cut through the comfortable buzz of the room.
“yeah,” yizhuo added, swirling her wine glass. “we’ve released a few singles here and there, but it’s not the same. we’re not really aespa without her.”
jimin nodded, her expression thoughtful. “it’s been different,” she admitted. “but we’re figuring it out.”
“figuring it out,” yizhuo repeated, snorting. “aka, doing nothing but lazing around and ordering takeout.”
aeri grinned. “we’ve perfected the art of slacking, we should win awards for it.”
their banter was light and the laughter genuine. it pulled you back into the moment. for the first time in what felt like forever, you found yourself laughing along with them — really laughing.
as the night wore on, the chaos around the table began to settle into a comfortable rhythm. the laughter quieted and the conversation took on a more relaxed, intimate tone. the pizza boxes were mostly empty and aeri poured another glass of wine for herself and yizhuo, both of them visibly enjoying the rare moment of everyone being together.
with your bag slung over your shoulder, jimin stood by the door while aeri and yizhuo hugged you tightly.
“you know,” aeri began, leaning back. “it’s really nice to have you here, y/n. we’ve missed you.”
“like, really missed you,” yizhuo said, her tone serious for once. “i mean, i know life’s been…a lot. but you don’t have to disappear on us, you know? we’re always here for you.”
the words hung in the air, their sincerity hitting you harder than you expected. you stared at the table for a moment, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your glass.
“i know,” you said quietly, your voice softer than usual. “and i’m sorry. for shutting you guys out. it wasn’t fair. i was more embarrassed —“
“it’s not about fair,” aeri interjected gently, setting her glass down. “we just don’t want to lose you again. you’re important to us, y/n. even if you’ve got your walls up, we’ll keep knocking.”
“and by knocking, she means barging in,” yizhuo added with a grin, earning a laugh from both you and jimin.
“i mean it, though,” she continued, her tone earnest. “we’re here for you. anytime.”
jimin glanced at you, her eyes soft, but she didn’t say anything. she didn’t need to — the look she gave you was enough.
you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “thanks, i…i missed you guys too. i’ll see you guys next weekend?”
“of course,” yizhuo smiled, kissing your cheek goodbye. “rome better be prepared for aeri’s annoying ass.”
aeri rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “stop talking, ning, y/n has to go!”
“yeah, right, forgot you guys were unemployed,” you rubbed the back of your head with a laugh as you turned and began to walk with jimin. “see you both soon.”
the walk back to jimin’s car was quiet, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the apartment. you shoved your hands into your pockets, your footsteps echoing lightly on the pavement. she walked beside you, her shoulder close enough to brush against yours occasionally.
“you okay?” she asked after a moment, glancing at you.
you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, i had a good time.”
“good,” she said simply, her own smile soft and genuine.
you hesitated, your gaze fixed on the ground as you spoke. “i didn’t realise how much i missed them. being with them…it felt normal. like…like things weren’t so heavy for a while.”
she nodded, her pace slowing slightly. “that’s the thing about aeri and yizhuo. they’re chaotic as fuck, but they have this way of making you forget about the rest of the world.”
“they do,” you agreed, your smile widening just a fraction. “i think i needed that.”
she stopped walking and turned to face you, her hands slipping into her coat pockets. “you don’t have to wait two years to do it again, you know. they meant it when they said they’re here for you. and so did i.”
you met her gaze, the sincerity in her eyes making your chest tighten. “i know. and…thanks, rina. for everything.”
she shrugged lightly, though the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “you don’t have to thank me. i just want you to be okay.”
“i think…i’m getting there,” you admitted, your voice soft. “slowly.”
she smiled, her expression a mix of relief and something else you couldn’t quite name. “that’s all that matters.”
as the two of you reached the car, you hesitated again, the words forming on your lips before you could stop them. “jimin?”
“yeah?” she asked, pausing as she unlocked the doors.
you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “thank you. for not giving up on me. and…for reminding me that it’s okay to let people in.”
her smile softened, and she reached out to squeeze your arm briefly. “i never would. i’m just glad you’re here.”
you nodded, climbing into the passenger seat as she started the car. as she drove, the hum of the engine and the faint city lights passing by felt less daunting than they usually did. for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. and perhaps, you didn’t have to be.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the train rocked gently as it made its way through seoul’s early morning haze. you sat in your usual spot by the window, absently watching the buildings blur together. for once, you didn’t look like you had just rolled out of bed and barely made it to the station; your scrubs were tidy, hair tied back neatly and there was even a faint sheen of moisturiser on your face — a small but deliberate effort to feel a little more presentable.
it wasn’t much, but it was something. after that dinner with the remaining members of aespa, you found yourself thinking…about how much you had isolated yourself and how it might not be the worst thing in the world to try again.
to exist around people who cared.
your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. you hesitated before pulling it out, already knowing who it would be.
-
from: jimin - aespa
do you still like purple taro bubble tea or has your taste in drinks gotten worse too?
sent 7:50 AM
-
you sighed, the faintest of smiles tugging at your lips despite yourself. she had a way of making her presence known, whether you wanted it or not. since dinner at aeri’s, she had been texting you more often, showing up at the hospital and generally refusing to let you retreat back into your solitude.
you stared at the message for a long moment, the smile fading as doubt crept in.
why was she doing this? why did she care? she was an idol, a successful one at that, with a million other things she could be doing.
the thought made your chest tighten. you typed a response, your fingers moving quickly.
to: jimin - aespa
yes, but you should do better things with your time than hanging out at the hospital with me.
sent 7:51 AM
you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you were being too harsh, but the thought of her spending so much effort on you — it felt undeserved. and it scared you. you hit send and immediately turned your phone off, tucking it back into your pocket.
the train ride passed in a blur, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels luring you into a daze. when you stepped off at your station, the morning chill greeted you, sharp against your skin. you pulled your coat tighter around yourself, your hand instinctively reaching into your pocket for your cigarette box. the box was light — too light — but you fished out a cigarette and lit it, the flame flickering in the breeze.
you took a long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. it didn’t help much, never did, but it gave you something to do, something to focus on. your thoughts, as they often did, drifted to minjeong. her face, her voice, the way she used to call you at the hospital just to complain about how exhausting her day was.
but lately, your thoughts had started to wander elsewhere, too. to jimin. her relentless persistence, her easy smiles and just the way she had managed to slip into your life without you even realising. you hated how much space she was starting to take up in your head.
it felt…complicated. and you didn’t do complicated anymore.
as you walked, cigarette still in hand, your gaze caught on a small coffee shop just opening for the morning. the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted out, the barista flipping the “open” sign to face the street. you stopped in your tracks, hesitating before stepping inside.
the shop was warm, the faint whir of an espresso machine filling the air. you approached the counter, glancing at the menu even though you already knew what you wanted.
“can i get a caramel latte?” you asked, your voice soft but steady. after a pause, you added: “actually, make that two. one iced, one hot.”
the barista nodded, tapping your order into the register. you waited by the counter, the warmth of the shop a sharp contrast to the cool morning outside.
when the drinks were ready, you grabbed the cups and stepped back out onto the street, beginning your trek towards the hospital, the steam from the hot latte curling into the chilly air.
you didn’t usually do this — go out of your way for someone else. but jiwoo had been kind to you for nearly a year now, always trying to engage, smiling even when you brushed her off. maybe it was time to start giving something back, even if just a little.
when you walked into the hospital, the familiar buzz of activity greeted you. you spotted jiwoo at the nurses’ station, her head bent over a stack of charts.
you approached her quietly, holding out the iced caramel latte. “here.”
she looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. “what’s this?”
“thought you’d like one,” you replied, shrugging.
she stared at you for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “wow, y/n. are you feeling okay? did you hit your head?”
you rolled your eyes, but there was a faint smile on your lips. “don’t get used to it.”
she laughed, taking the drink. “thank you. seriously. this is…really sweet of you.”
you nodded, already turning to leave. “see you later.”
“karina’s a good influence isn’t she?” she raised an eyebrow, teasing tone audible. you flipped her off, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.
right.
the rest of the day passed in a haze of patient charts and routine procedures. you kept your phone off, avoiding the temptation to check for a reply from jimin but as the hours wore on, you found yourself thinking about her text more and more.
despite your earlier message, you couldn’t shake the image of her showing up at the hospital later, bubble tea in hand, her grin as smug as ever.
you hated how much the thought warmed you. but you didn’t push it away either. maybe you were starting to feel okay with someone caring again.
the faint hum of fluorescent lights filled the space as you flipped through a patient’s chart. it was a rare quiet in your often chaotic schedule these past few days, one that allowed you a moment to breathe and reset before the next inevitable call.
signing off on an order, you heaved out a sigh as you reached out for your pen. then, an older nurse came barrelling towards you — panting.
“doctor y/n!” she called, her tone sharp enough to cut through the calm.
you straightened immediately, the chart forgotten. “what is it?”
“we’ve got a trauma case in the OR,” she said, her words rushing out in a panicked stream. “male, thirty-one, massive internal bleeding from a car accident. he’s critical. there’s no other trauma surgeon on call.”
you froze for half a second, the weight of her words sinking in. the situation wasn’t unusual; emergencies happened all the time, but when she added the final detail, your stomach twisted painfully.
“he was on his way to his wedding,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.
the words hit you like
“prep the OR,” you said firmly, already moving. “i’ll be on my way.”
the words hit you like a truck, but you didn’t let it show. you pushed the memories down, shoving them into the mental box you had built for moments like this.
there was no time to think, no time to feel.
the operating room was a blur of activity when you arrived, the team already scrubbing in and preparing the patient. you quickly donned yours, hands moving with practised precision even as your mind raced.
the man on the table looked young, too young to be fighting for his life. his face was pale, his breathing shallow and the monitors surrounding him beeped erratically.
“what’s his status?” you asked, your voice calm despite the chaos around you.
“male, 31, car accident on the way to his wedding. chest trauma, ruptured spleen, internal bleeding, fractured ribs — we tried contacting other trauma surgeons, but you’re the only one available.”
you clenched your jaw, nodding as you pulled on your gloves. there was no room for hesitation now, no room for your own feelings to surface. the situation was painfully familiar, too close to home, but you buried it deep. your only focus was the man on the table, his life hanging by a thread.
you nodded, stepping into position. “scalpel.”
the surgery was gruelling. time seemed to blur as you worked, every second stretching into an eternity. the damage was extensive — a ruptured spleen, lacerations to the liver and fractures to his ribs that had caused additional complications. you moved methodically, your hands steady even as sweat trickled down your temple.
“suction,” you said, your voice steady despite the pressure.
the nurse complied and you continued, carefully navigating the delicate web of organs and tissues.
“laceration to the liver,” you muttered, leaning closer. “clamp here. we need to stop this before we lose him.”
time blurred as you worked, every movement calculated, every decision critical. the fractures in his ribs had caused additional internal damage, complicating an already precarious situation.
“keep the suction steady,” you said, glancing at the anaesthesiologist. “how’s he holding up?”
“stable for now,” came the reply, though the tension in the room didn’t ease.
the hours dragged on, your focus unwavering even as exhaustion began to creep in. piece by piece, you repaired the damage.
finally, after what felt like an eternity, the monitors began to steady. “his vitals are improving,” one of the nurses announced, relief evident in her voice.
“he’s going to make it,” you stepped back, your hands trembling slightly as you removed the gloves.
the team around you exhaled collectively, and a few murmured congratulations filled the room. but you didn’t feel triumphant — just drained.
you barely made it outside before pulling out a cigarette, your hands still shaking from the adrenaline. the first drag burned your throat, but the sting was grounding, pulling you back into yourself.
leaning against the hospital’s garden wall, you stared blankly at the stick in your hand.
the man’s story, on his way to his wedding, was too close to home. it dug up memories you’d spent years trying to bury.
the cigarette fell from your hand as the first sob escaped your lips, your shoulders trembling under the weight of three years’ worth of suppressed grief — fingers curling into fists, nails digging into your palms as your breath hitched.
the memories came in waves, unrelenting. you’d spent three years holding it all back: every ounce of heartbreak, every pang of humiliation, every question that would never be answered.
but tonight, the dam finally broke.
you thought about the way you stood there, waiting, believing with everything in you that she would show up. the way you smiled nervously at your parents, at hers, then to the guests who had all gathered to celebrate something that wasn’t real anymore.
the embarrassment, the pitying glances, the murmured apologies you had given when it wasn’t your fault — it all came rushing back, every detail sharper than it had been in years.
the door to the garden creaked open behind you, and you stiffened, trying to choke back the sounds of your crying. you didn’t want anyone to see you like this but the footsteps were soft, familiar and you knew who it was before you even looked up.
jimin.
she approached slowly, her shoes crunching lightly on the gravel. she didn’t say anything at first, just stopped a few feet away, her presence warm and steady. you didn’t look up nor acknowledged her, but you didn’t have to. she came closer, lowering herself to sit beside you on the bench.
at first, she didn’t touch you. she gave you space, her hands resting in her lap as she watched you silently. but when your sobs grew louder, your shoulders trembling uncontrollably, she shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you.
she had seen you leave the hospital, your steps hurried and your shoulders hunched as if you were carrying something too heavy for anyone to bear. she had followed, keeping her distance, not wanting to intrude but unable to let you be alone in whatever you were carrying.
“it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice steady and grounding. “let it out. i’m here.”
she’d never seen you like this. not even on that day three years ago. back then, you held yourself together, a picture of forced composure that betrayed none of what you were feeling.
you leaned into her without thinking, her warmth a comfort you hadn’t realised you needed. she wrapped her arms around you as the tears kept coming, her presence anchouring you in a way that words couldn’t.
she held you tightly, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back, the other resting against your head. she didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. she just let you fall apart.
it felt like hours passed before your sobs began to subside, your breathing slowing into uneven gasps. you pulled back slightly, wiping at your face with trembling hands.
you didn’t dare look at her, too ashamed of your outburst.
“why do you do this?” you finally said, your voice hoarse and broken.
jimin frowned, tilting her head. “do what?”
“this,” you said, gesturing weakly between the two of you. “why do you keep doing all these nice things for me? why do you care so much?”
her expression softened, but before she could answer, you kept going, your voice rising with frustration — not at her, but at yourself.
“i’m…fucking look at me, i’m damaged goods, jimin. she left me for a reason and that’s because i wasn’t enough for her. and if i wasn’t enough for her, how the hell could i ever be enough for you?”
she opened her mouth to speak, but you pressed on, the words pouring out of you like a dam had broken.
“you should be with someone who has their shit together, someone who isn’t this broken mess. i don’t need fixing and i sure as hell don’t want fixing. i’m not your project, jimin. i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you.”
the silence that followed felt deafening. your chest heaved, the weight of your own words leaving you feeling exposed and raw. you kept your eyes on the ground, unable to face her.
then, slowly, she reached out, fingers brushing against your cheek and cupped your face in her hands, her touch gentle but firm. she tilted your head up, forcing you to meet her gaze. her eyes were glassy, tears brimming at the edges but her expression was steady.
“y/n,” her soft voice was shaking slightly but full of conviction. “you don’t get to decide what i feel. and you don’t get to tell me what you deserve because i’ve already decided what you deserve. and that’s everything.
you blinked, stunned into silence as she continued.
“i love you,” she said, the words slipping out with a raw honesty that made your chest tighten. “i love you. not because you’re perfect, not because you’re some project i want to fix. i love you because you’re you.”
her thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks, her voice breaking as she went on. “you’re messy. you’re stubborn. you push people away because you’re scared, and you think it’s easier to be alone. but you’re also kind and strong and you care so much that it hurts you. and i love all of it. all of you.”
your breath hitched, your heart pounding as her words settled over you. “jimin, i —”
“no,” she interrupted gently, shaking her head. “let me finish. i know you don’t believe me right now. i know you don’t feel like you’re enough. but you are. to me, you are.”
her voice cracked again as she took a deep breath to steady herself. “and even if you can’t see it yet, i’ll wait. i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to realise that you are enough. that you’ve always been enough.”
tears blurred your vision again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. you stared at her, unable to find the words, the weight of her confession leaving you breathless.
“jimin,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling. “i don’t know if i can —”
“you don’t have to,” she said softly, her hands still cradling your face. “not right now. not until you’re ready. but just…let me stay. let me be here for you. that’s all i’m asking.”
you nodded, the smallest of movements, but it was enough. she pulled you into her arms again, holding you tightly as your tears began to fall once more…not from grief, but from the overwhelming relief of not being alone anymore.
perhaps you didn’t have to carry everything on your own anymore.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the tiny apartment in lisbon was quiet, save for the distant sound of street vendors calling out to evening crowds.
minjeong sat cross-legged on the worn wooden floor, her back leaning against the peeling wall. the room was sparse; just a bed, a suitcase, and a second-hand lamp casting a dim glow. this was her life now, moving from one place to the next, never staying long enough to plant roots.
it had been three years since she left.
three years of running, of trying to escape the shadow of the person she used to be. it hadn’t worked. no matter where she went, the memories followed her, clinging to her like smoke.
she thought back to the day she ran away with mingyu. she still didn’t understand why she had done it. it felt like rebellion; breaking free from the cage of her life. he had offered her a way out, a chance to escape the constant grind of fame, the suffocating expectations of being winter of aespa. in her desperation, she’d taken it without thinking.
it had been a mistake — the worst one of her life.
two weeks. that was all it took for everything to fall apart. he wasn’t the solution to her problems; he was just another lost soul trying to fill his own emptiness. they argued constantly, their personalities clashing until every word between them felt like a fight.
the final straw had been a shouting match in a dingy motel room somewhere in melbourne. she packed her bag that night and walked away, leaving him without a goodbye.
but leaving him didn’t fix anything. the damage was already done.
minjeong had spent the next three years living like a ghost, drifting from one country to another, working odd jobs to make ends meet. she cleaned houses in barcelona, waited tables in florence and even worked as a gardener in interlaken. she learned to enjoy the simplicity of it all — the routine of making her own meals, the anonymity of blending into crowds.
for the first time in her life, she wasn’t winter; the idol. she was just minjeong, a girl trying to figure out who she was.
the solitude changed her. she learned to live without the luxury she took for granted, without the constant validation of fans or the adoration of the public. it was hard, but it forced her to confront herself, to look at the mess she had made and start picking up the pieces.
but no matter how much she grew, no matter how much she tried to move on, there was one thing she couldn’t escape: you.
you had been the best thing that ever happened to her. she didn’t deserve you, not then and certainly not now. but you had loved her anyway, in a way that no one else ever had.
when the pressure of fame had weighed her down, when she felt like she was suffocating under the expectations of the world, you had been her lifeline.
she thought about the nights you stayed up with her, holding her close when the world felt too big. she remembered the way you would look at her, like she was more than the perfect image she tried so hard to maintain.
you saw her; the messy, flawed, human version of her…and you loved her anyway.
you had saved her when she was drowning. and how did she repay you? by leaving. by walking away on your wedding day, the day she should have promised herself to you forever.
she thought she was sparing you the burden of her brokenness, but all she did was break you too.
she thought about aespa too. they had been her sisters. she had abandoned them without a word, leaving them to pick up the pieces of her absence. she often found herself scrolling through their social media profiles, her heart aching at the sight of aeri and yizhuo laughing together or jimin’s rare selfies.
but it was jimin’s posts that hurt the most.
jimin had been her best friend, the one who knew her better than anyone else. now, her life seemed to revolve around you. her posts were filled with snapshots of dinners, quiet moments and candid photos of you that made minjeong’s chest tighten.
you were still beautiful, even more so than she remembered. but there was something different about you now — an air of weariness and guardedness that hadn’t been there before.
she knew she was responsible for that, and it tore her apart.
the breaking point came one quiet afternoon. she was scrolling through her phone, her thumb idly swiping through posts, when an article caught her eye.
“aespa’s karina opens up about her romantic life: ‘we’re taking things slow, but it’s happening.’”
her breath hitched as she clicked the link, her heart pounding. the article detailed jimin’s recent interview, where she had spoken openly about someone she’d been seeing.
“i’ve been spending a lot of time with someone who means a lot to me,” she had said. “we’re working our way through things in a romantic setting, but very slowly. there’s a lot of healing involved for both of us. but…i’m happy. she’s worth it.”
the accompanying photo was of jimin and you, leaving a restaurant together. her hand rested lightly on your back, her expression soft, almost protective. you looked relaxed, even happy, but there was still a shadow of something unreadable in your eyes.
minjeong stared at the photo for a long time, her chest tight. jimin’s words echoed in her mind: “she’s worth it.”
she closed her phone and sat in silence, her hands trembling. the reality of what she lost hit her all at once — not just you, but the life you could have had together.
and now, jimin was stepping into the space she had abandoned.
that night, she booked a plane ticket to seoul.
it wasn’t a decision made lightly, but she couldn’t stay away any longer.
she needed to apologise; to you, her family, to everyone she had hurt. she didn’t know if you would forgive her, but she had to try.
no matter how much time had passed, one thing remained true: you were her soulmate. and she wasn’t ready to give up on you, not yet.
“minjeong?”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the end.
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idkyetxoxo · 2 days ago
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Jacaerys Velaryon - Between Fear and Trust
Summary - Grappling with the potential harm to her unborn child and the overwhelming anxiety of her protective husband, their love and trust are tested in a fragile dance of reassurance and emotional turmoil.
Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader
Warnings - Pregnancy anxiety, injury
Word count - 2032
Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.
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Jacaerys Velaryon was a protective man, often to the point where his vigilance bordered on excessive. His concern, though rooted in love, sometimes felt stifling.
"I don't think you should be doing that," Jace said, his voice gentle but firm. I sighed softly, setting down the needlepoint in my hands before turning to face him.
"And what harm could possibly come from needlework?" I asked.
As he approached, I gestured to the fabric spread out on the table, the intricate design slowly coming to life.
"Look, it's Vermax," I said, pointing at the olive green and pale orange dragon that was beginning to take shape on the black tunic. 
The dragon's fierce eyes and outstretched wings were just starting to emerge from the fabric. I felt a swell of pride as I watched his eyes follow the delicate work.
Jace's expression softened into a tender smile as he looked at the half-finished dragon, and then back at me. The sight of my enthusiastic face, so absorbed in the craft, caused a wave of affection to surge through him. His gaze lingered on me, a mixture of admiration and concern.
"You're straining yourself," he said softly, his tone a blend of warmth and insistence. 
He stepped closer and gently helped me to my feet, his hands moving with a practised tenderness. His fingers brushed lightly against my swollen belly, and he began to rub it in soothing, circular motions. 
"Jace, you must cease this," I said with a gentle smile, placing my hand over his. His frown deepened, and I could see the concern etched into his features. "You're becoming overbearing."
He swallowed hard, his eyes searching mine. "I only want to keep you safe, to keep our child safe," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he cupped my face in his hand.
"I can't walk through these halls without feeling like I'm doing something wrong," I confessed, my voice tinged with frustration. "I care deeply for this babe too, but your constant worry... it frightens me."
Jace exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. When he pulled back, his frown remained, but there was a softness in his gaze.
"I don't mean to cause you distress," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. I nodded, understanding his intentions even if they sometimes overwhelmed me.
After a moment of silence, I shifted slightly "I could use some tea though," I said, trying to lighten the mood. Before the words were fully out of my mouth, Jace was already moving to stand.
"I'll get it for you," he said quickly, his voice filled with determination but I reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm to stop him.
"No, Jace. I think I can manage to fetch some tea," I said, my tone gentle yet firm. 
His hesitation was palpable, a visible battle between his desire to protect me and the recognition that I needed this small act of independence. His eyes flickered with concern as he looked at me, and I could see how difficult it was for him to let go.
"It's just tea," I added softly, attempting to soothe his worries. 
Finally, with a reluctant nod, he stepped back. "Just be careful," he murmured, his voice almost pleading as he watched me.
I gave him a reassuring smile, appreciating his concession. "I will," I promised, as I turned and made my way across the room.
As I reached the door, I glanced back over my shoulder, my thoughts drifting to a happier distraction. 
"Perhaps we could visit Vermax when I return," I suggested, my voice carrying a hopeful lilt. "I miss him dearly."
I heard Jace's quiet laughter from behind me, a sound that was both tender and indulgent. 
I knew it would take a great deal of convincing for him to agree to let me see the dragon again, especially considering my condition. But the thought of visiting Vermax seemed to lighten the mood, if only slightly.
Jace's voice followed me, a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You'll have to charm me into it, I suppose" he called out with a fond chuckle. 
I smiled to myself as I stepped into the hallway, the soft glow of the sconces casting a warm light on the stone walls.
The castle's usual grandeur was eerily muted, the soft thud of my footsteps on the cold, echoing stone a lonely sound in the vast, empty hallway. Each step seemed to reverberate with an ominous, hollow note.
The familiar surroundings, normally comforting, now felt like a path strewn with obstacles as I descended the grand staircase. 
The slight twist in my ankle was so sudden, so unexpected, that I barely had time to react before I felt myself falling. One moment I was moving cautiously, and the next, I felt my body lurch uncontrollably.
I tumbled down the last few steps, the world around me spinning in a blur of stone and panic. 
The impact was jarring, pain radiating through my body as I came to a stop on the cold floor. My ears rang, a sharp, disorienting sound that drowned out everything else. 
A thin, red line of blood trickled from the gash on my forehead, warm and sticky against my skin but all I could think about was the deep, gnawing fear that gripped my heart.
Anxiety clawed at me as I lay there, my breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. My hands flew instinctively to my swollen stomach, pressing down as if to protect the life within me.
"Please, please be okay," I whispered, the words trembling on my lips as I tried to steady my racing thoughts. 
I needed to get up, to find Jace, to reassure myself that everything was alright but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed by fear, by the pain that coursed through me, and by the overwhelming dread of what might have just happened.
"My lady," a voice gasped, cutting through the haze of my fear. 
I blinked, trying to focus on the figure rushing toward me. The armour clanked loudly in the quiet hallway, the sound harsh against the silence.
"Ser Erryk," I mumbled weakly, recognizing the Queensguard as he knelt beside me, his expression stricken with concern.
"My lady, are you hurt?" he asked urgently, his eyes scanning me for injuries. His hands hovered, unsure of where to touch, or how to help. 
I could see the panic in his eyes, the same panic I felt bubbling inside me.
"My... my head," I whispered, feeling the warmth of the blood trickling down my forehead. "And my ankle... but the babe..." My voice broke, and tears welled up in my eyes. "Ser Erryk, please, I need to get to Jace."
Without hesitation, Ser Erryk scooped me into his arms, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. 
The movement sent a jolt of pain through my ankle, and I winced, clutching my belly protectively as he began carrying me back to my chambers.
The journey was a blur of worry and pain, every step echoing my pounding heartbeat. The closer we got to the room, the more I felt the weight of what had just happened pressing down on me. 
By the time we reached the door, I was trembling, my mind a whirlwind of fear and guilt.
As Ser Erryk pushed the door open with his shoulder, Jace shot up from his seat, his face instantly pale with alarm when he saw me cradled in Ser Erryk's arms, blood smeared on my forehead.
"What happened?" Jace's voice was sharp, edged with panic as he rushed to my side, his hands immediately reaching for me. He looked between Ser Erryk and me, desperation in his eyes. 
"What happened?" he repeated, his voice breaking.
I couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears I had been holding back burst forth, and I began to sob uncontrollably. 
"I'm so sorry, Jace," I cried, my voice trembling with guilt. "I fell—I shouldn't have gone—I'm so sorry." The words tumbled out in a frantic rush, my apologies intertwining with my sobs.
Ser Erryk quickly explained, his voice steady but grave. "She lost her footing on the stairs, my prince. It was an accident." 
His words were meant to soothe, but they did little to ease the storm of emotions that swirled within me.
Jace's eyes softened with anguish as he knelt beside the bed where Ser Erryk gently laid me down. He cupped my face with trembling hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streamed down my cheeks.
"Shh, it's alright," Jace murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. 
"You're alright, and that's all that matters." His fingers were gentle as they stroked my hair, trying to calm me, but I could see the fear in his eyes, the same fear that was consuming me.
"I was just so scared," I choked out, my hands still clutching my belly as if to reassure myself that our child was safe. "I should have listened to you... I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "None of this is your fault." He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering against the cut there as if he could kiss away the pain.
But the guilt still gnawed at me. "I just wanted to walk... to feel normal," I whispered, the words heavy with regret. "But I've made everything worse."
Jace shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
"You didn't do anything wrong. I just want you and our child to be safe. That's all that matters to me." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as if to shield me from everything that had happened.
I buried my face in his chest, my tears soaking into his tunic as he rocked me gently. His heartbeat was strong and steady against my ear, a constant reminder that I wasn't alone, that we were in this together.
"I'll take care of you," Jace whispered his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.
"We'll call for a maester," he continued, his tone steady and reassuring. "Everything will be alright." His gaze shifted to Ser Erryk, who stood nearby, concern etched into his features. 
With a nod of understanding, Ser Erryk left the chamber to fulfil Jace's unspoken command, the door closing softly behind him.
But as the door clicked shut, a fresh wave of anxiety washed over me. I pulled away from Jace's embrace, my hands trembling as I looked up at him, fear gripping my heart. 
"Jace... what if I've done something?" The words came out in a shaky whisper, my voice barely holding together as I voiced the deepest of my fears.
His expression softened immediately, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of my tears as he searched my eyes for the pain that haunted me.
"My love," he said, his voice tender but firm, "you've done nothing wrong." His words were like a lifeline, pulling me back from the abyss of my worries. 
"We must trust that the gods have good intentions for us. We've been blessed with this child, and we will see them into this world together."
Despite his reassurances, doubt lingered in my heart. "But what if—"
"Shh," Jace interrupted gently, pressing a finger to my lips. "No 'what ifs,'" he murmured, his gaze unwavering. "We cannot let fear dictate our lives. Whatever happens, we will face it together, as we always have."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, and I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. The warmth of his breath against my skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the strength in his embrace all worked to calm the storm within me. 
Slowly, I began to breathe easier, the frantic pace of my thoughts slowing to match the rhythm of his heart.
"I'm here," he whispered, his voice a gentle echo in the quiet room. "And I always will be."
As the moments passed, the tension in my body began to ease, replaced by a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. 
A/n - Inspired by that one scene of Meredith falling down the stairs in Grey's.
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iichfilwypj · 2 days ago
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lover | percy jackson
ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: percy is completely whipped here! maybe he's not very accurate or himself but im a slut for romantic shit yk ღ wc: 1.658 sorry loves dreamy girls masterlist!
After years, New Year's Eve was finally different.
She'd expected the usual—warmth at camp, chatting with the campers—but Percy invited her to spend the week with his family instead.
And Sally’s letter and Estelle’s drawing made it impossible to refuse.
Percy had planned every detail perfectly. His mom made her favorite dish, Estelle eagerly talked about seeing “The Sleeping Princess” again, and Percy patiently explained the day’s events to his family. 
Because, of course, he had something else up his sleeve.
One last surprise.
Just before midnight, Percy sat beside her as Estelle slept in her lap. The adult's conversation around them faded, and she absentmindedly stroked the little girl’s back to keep herself awake.
When she felt Percy nearby, she looked up to find him brushing a strand of hair from her face. A warm smile appeared as their eyes met.
“She’s so lovely,” she murmured.
“Mm-hmm,” Percy replied, leaning against her. “Does she look like me?”
“Just a bit more adorable.” They shared a quiet laugh.
Then Percy, his voice trembling slightly, said, “Hey, dreamy. Wanna get out of here?” His eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nerves.
She chuckled, unsure if he was serious. It reminded her of a movie they had watched together, where the guy said the same line to  take the girl out of the party and lead her to something more fun.
But before she could protest, he gently lifted Estelle from her lap and took her hand, leading her toward the door.
“Wait, it’s almost midnight—”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes but—”
“Awesome! Mom, we’re leaving!”
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If the the living room was beautifully decorated, the terrace was out of this world.
Percy was relieved that no one had claimed her for their celebrations. The lights lit up the place, contrasting with the soft snow falling gently on the city, transforming everything below into a sea of calm and white.
In one corner, a big blanket rested on the floor, surrounded by scattered cushion. It was small perfect escape.
The cool night air couldn’t reach the warm stillness of it, where the candles burned like magic and the sheets hanging above shielded everything from the real world.
Stunned, she observed Percy walk toward the corner, unaware of the trembling in his legs, his shallow breaths, or the tears that threatened to escape his eyes.
Not because of the cold, but because of the weight of emotions—fear, excitement, all tangled.
The old record player, silent until then, sprang to life with a gentle crackle, the music flowing through the place like a whisper of a forgotten memory.
She couldn’t help but smile, feeling reassured by its familiarity.
The melody sank deep into both their hearts on that terrace, softening them just a bit more. Their eyes locked, his green ones asking—or perhaps pleading—for her to come closer, be near him. 
And she did, it was everything she wanted.
They both found their place on the blanket, cozy in each other's warmth. Their legs were tangled like roots, something unbreakable against the world beneath them, which began to roar with the arrival of a new year, a fresh start.
We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January
“This is lovely,” The daughter of Hypnos rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as the weight of his hand on her back filled her with calm. She couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his skin. “Did you make this?”
This is our place, we make the rules
“Yes. I know this is your first holiday away from camp in a long time, I wanted it to be unforgettable.” He whispered, burying his face into the girl's hair.
And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear
He heard her nervous laugh and couldn’t help but ask. “What?”
Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?
“Why?” she admitted, letting the question escape. She didn’t want to make herself a victim, but she was overwhelmed by all this kindness. “Why so much effort?”
Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close forever and ever?
And he just stared at her. He observed her, took in every part of her.
He studied her face, her expression, her soul. He saw the surprise in her slightly raised eyebrows, the gratitude in the small smile on her lips, the doubt and fear in the way her nose scrunched.
He saw it all.
And ah, take me out, and take me home
And he risked it all.
You're my, my, my, my
“I mean, it's beautiful, and no one's ever done this for me, but—”
Lover.
“I love you.” 
It came out so naturally, so quietly, but with an intensity that made her chest tighten. The world seemed to hold its breath. 
She stared at him, wide-eyed, her mind a blur of thoughts. The snow around them fell heavier now, and as the music swirled, it was his words that rang out loudest.
“I—” She couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to tell him everything she felt. Her mind raced, emotions tangled in a knot she couldn’t untangle.
But he already knew.
A tender smile appeared, and his eyes stayed on hers. The heat of his hand on her back seeped into her cold, flushed face as he watched the tears threatening to fall.
And while he hated seeing her tears, the way her hands gripped desperately his arm made him wish he could cry alongside her.
“I love you,” he repeated. “It's the only thing I can do when I'm near you. And even when I'm not, I find you in everything. In the music I listen, in the words I speak, in what I do. In what I think—for Aphrodite, you live in my mind.”
“Percy—” she breathed, her voice unsteady as she reached for his hand.
“Please, just let me finish,” he murmured, his voice trembling under the weight of his words.
When she nodded, he drew in a deep breath and carried on.
“No one, not a single person, had ever reached my heart. Close? Yes, but you—the moment I saw you, you took it. You took everything I had.”
His girl let out a broken sob, unable to stop as the tears streamed down in torrents, and his gentle hands caught them. His own tears fell, cold and frozen in that moment.
The bells marking the year's final minute started to chime, but they felt like a distant echo, blending with the rhythm of their heartbeat.
Yet, he pressed on.
“And I don’t want it back. Never. It’s yours. Yes, everything is yours. Because—” he interlaced their fingers harder. “Because you’ve made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. Every emptiness I’ve ever felt disappeared. And every heartbeat that ever meant anything, became you.”
His thumb softly glided over the back of her hand, sending a shiver up her spine. His forehead almost met hers.
She felt his breath on her skin, and she couldn’t help but shut her eyes, letting the sound of his voice and the melody wrap around her like a gentle wave.
But he tapped her nose with his, prompting her to open her eyes. The tears made her vision hazy, but the bright green she saw before her reassured her that everything was fine.
“And now, my life—it's no longer mine. It’s no longer the one I had. It’s the one you’ve built. Every piece of me, every fragment of what I once was, now belongs to you.”
She could feel the fragility in his hands, the quiver in his fingers, and it made her want to hold him even closer, to embrace him until the oxygen was gone, until the birds stopped singing and the universe wiped away everything but them, everything but that moment.
Everything but their love.
“So take it. Take me entirely, all of me, I’m yours." he concluded. "I always have been.”
He was silent, almost still. His eyes were closed, now afraid of what her reaction might reveal.
And the girl smiled, though it turned more into a pout. Her fingers ceased holding onto his hands to lift his chin, something he did constantly to her. He didn’t open his eyes, but let himself be guided.
“Percy,” She gazed at him, and her voice came out in a whisper, as though fearing the magic of the moment would break. 
Without hesitation, they leaned even closer, following the delicate touch of their skin. The gap between them almost completely disappeared.
At last, he opened his eyes. She couldn’t contain what she felt, the urge to tell him everything she had been holding in for so long, though it didn’t measure up to what he had said to her.
The sound of the final five bells echoed, followed by the shouts from the balconies.
"I love you," she said, her heart rising in her throat, her voice quivering.
Five!
“I love you in ways I can’t express with words or gestures. I love you as if my life depended on it—”
Four!
“No, I love you because my life depends on it. Without you, I am nothing.”
Three!
“I once said that you’re the best dream I could wish for—but you're more than that. You're my reality, my light, my existence.”
Two!
“I will take everything from you, if you promise to take everything from me,”
One!
“And keep it forever. Keep me forever, I'll do the same."
Happy New Year!
And finally, she kissed him, their lips meeting in a soft, slow kiss, a kiss brimming with unspoken promises and shared emotions.
It was different than others; it was a start of something more deep. In the delicate pressure of their lips, everything they had ever felt for each other was expressed without a single syllable, their hearts speaking the language that only they understood.
There was no more cold or snow—only the heat of their bodies pressed together, the rhythmic beating of their hearts in sync, and the gentle intertwining of their souls. 
In the end, they pulled away; not because they wanted to, but because the air had become essential, because their hearts needed a moment to calm, despite the urge to stay lost in each other. 
“Happy New Year,” she whispered, as he responded with a smile, his hand reaching up to caress her face again. 
“Happy New Year, my love,” he murmured in return, his voice low, only for her to hear.
“Percy?” she sniffled.
“Yes?”
”Would you be my lover?” 
“I already am,” he leaned forward, pressing a soft peck to her lips. “Since the first day, until the stars fade.”
I CRIED WRITING THIS GOD i think it's so cute. seriously, i want apologize again for disappearing like that, out of nowhere. i feel much better now and wanted to come back with something special. i hope you liked it! also, this doesn’t mean the series is over, they are my babies, and if i have to write about the 70 years they will spend together in my heart, i will do it!
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misayani · 2 days ago
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I LOVED UR SE-MI FIC! i was wondering if u could do another where the reader is homesick and has nightmares/ dreams about her friends and her home life and just going to se-mi's bed for comfort? (I hope this isn't too much trouble!!)
LOVE, MY WORLD IS FULL — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)
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◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader
◜you wouldn't know what to do without se-mi. 
𔗨 author's note — had so much fun writing this <3 kinda unleashed my inner william shakespeareness in this one [lowercase intended]
♡ upcoming fic — g!p no-eul + reader
— comfort
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you thought the games were harmless—bright colors, cheerful instructions, and an unassuming entry form. yet underneath all that promised fun lay a rather horrifying truth. you were blinded, not by sight but by your own naivety. 
how could you be so dumb? you should've known this game was sketchy ever since from the start, where they somehow made you all unconcious to bring to this place. where even are you? 
life is full of shit, you were fully aware of that, but you didn't expect it to be this shitty. tears started to form in your eyes as you thought of your dog, sparks, who's the reason why you're here. you didn't have any owe anyone money, you don't drag yourself to shit like that. but sparks was the dog your grandmother left you before she died, and unfortunately, sparks was recently diagnosed with congestive heart failure— he needed medical help. 
if someone can hear your thoughts right now, they'd probably laugh and tell you that it's just a dog, stop overreacting. but sparks wasn't just a dog. he grew up with you, he is family. he was the reason you kept going after your grandmother died, you could remember it—you locking yourself inside your room and not coming out for days, until you heard whines outside your door. shit, the dog. it annoyed you that you still needed to feed that dog. what's the point? he's gonna die anyways. just like everyone. 
a quiet sob escapes your mouth as your tears finally fall, from your eyes and onto the white sheets underneath you. you couldn't sleep, you were too bothered as to how so many people voted to stay in this game. you couldn't even even consider it a game, games were supposed to be fun. 
you voted to go home right after the first game, the staying team won. this night was after everyone voted for the second time, once again, the majority voted to stay. you find it funny— how money can have such an affect on people, but also at the same time, you couldn't blame the people who wanted to stay. maybe staying here was somehow better than their lives outside. they just had voted for their own 'lesser evil.' 
you needed someone right now. after being alone for 14 years, living independently, it was hard for you to bottle your feelings to yourself. the first person you can think of right now was se-mi. you had started talking to her before any of these games started, when the masked men just started explaining the rules and regulations. 
she was different, she understood you. she had asked you your reason to be here, you hesitantly told her, slightly embarassed but she didn't laugh or anything like that. she, in fact, smiled at your eagerness to win this game so you'd finally have some finance for your dog. well, that was before the games happened and before shit went down. 
you sniffle as you sit up and slip out of bed, every footstep quiet to not bother anyone sleeping. se-mi was just stairs ahead from you and you were surprised but relieved to see her still awake. she was laying on her back, staring towards the ceiling before she notices you and sits up to make room for you to sit down.
"hi," you start, gently sitting yourself down on her bed. 
"hi." she repeats, her eyes softening at the sight of your puffy eyes, "sparks?" 
you glanced at her, eyes wide as she managed to immediately caught onto whatever you were thinking. you nod, "i'm sorry for bothering you, just needed someone. and i thought you're the right person to approach."
se-mi's heart swells, she never had anyone tell her that before. you trusted her enough to see you vulnerable like this? she clears her throat before reassuring you, "it's no worries. i like talking to you anyways."
she scoots closer to sit beside you, planting her feet on the stairs beside the bunk bed. you fiddled with your fingers as you look down, before you hear her speak up. "i'm sorry for voting to stay."
you snap your head to look at her as you shake your head, "no, no. i don't— you don't have to say sorry for having freedom to choose whatever you want." you mutter.
"still, it was shitty for me to do that. i knew about your situation but i still vo—" you cut her off, "stop. it's not your fault. it's nobody's." she locks eyes with you as her lips part as if wanting to say something, until it closes again.
you sigh, "who cares if you were shitty. everything is shitty. life is shitty." you murmured, "life is shitty." she agrees, staring at your side profile. you noticed her in your peripheral vision and you get flustered, tipping your head down.
"it's hard." you glance at her again, seeing her eyes now staring forward as she spoke, "life outside. it's no different from here. some people say that life outside of here is easier, since you're not trapped in some unknown place. but i don't see how that is any different, aren't you still somehow trapped? not literally but figuratively." you hum, prompting her to continue.
"it's ironic how the ones with the heavy debts say that, as if they're not trapped in their own mistakes." se-mi chuckles beside you as you carefully listen to every word she's saying. talking to someone have always made you feel at peace— something that you don't feel often since you've never really communicated with anyone until now. 
"it's not about being physically imprisoned, but about feeling constrained in many ways, whether by circumstances, expectations, or some shit you dragged yourself into. in the end, no matter where you are, you can still feel confined. that's how i see it, atleast." she finishes.
you grab her hand that was closest to you, and started fidgeting with it instead of fiddling with your own fingers. her hand was warm but rough, in contrast to yours which was cold, but soft. "i understand." you murmur.
you both understood each other, and that alone was enough to provide you comfort. you admired her mindset, not just how  she thinks but how she embraces her own perspective with peace— her ability to see things from a different angle, yet still find peace in it. 
even if you both had casted your votings to two opposing things, there was an underspoken understanding between the two of you. despite the differences, se-mi and you shared a mutual respect, and that makes you so close to her. 
"thank you." you whispered, se-mi snaps her head to look at you, "for what?" 
"talking to me." you reply, "it feels nice to talk to someone like you, understanding but aren't scared to state their own opinion. i appreciate that so much. i haven't felt so understood in years." you feel tears well up in your eyes from getting emotional.
se-mi's lips form into a smile, "well i guess thank you too. you somehow make this place even more tolerable." she squeezes your hand that was holding hers. 
"cmon, stay with me tonight. i don't want to make you go back to bed like this." she tugs at your hand before leading you under her blanket—which started to smell like her— lifting the cloth over the both of you. 
you wanted to cuddle with her, but were too shy to initiate anything. lucky for you, se-mi opens her arms, pulling you towards her. your body relaxes as you feel her warm body spoon yours. you heard her mutter something on top of your head, "keep on being brave." she pauses before continuing,  "for sparks and me."
your once empty heart started to feel full again after this.
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@misayani
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vanteguccir · 2 days ago
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── ୨୧ ! 11:50 PM. DEC 31ST, 2024.
matt sturniolo x reader
SUMMARY: Where Y/N shows up at Matt's doorstep at 11:50 PM of New Year's Eve, soaked by the rain and ready to confess her love to him.
WARNING: Insecurities (just a bit). Friends to lovers trope.
REQUESTED?: No.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is MY idea and work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
A/N²: Happy New Year, lovelies! 🤍
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
11:45 PM.
December 31st, 2024.
Y/N had never considered herself one for big gestures. She preferred to deal with her feelings by pretending they didn’t exist, tucking them away in the quiet corners of her heart until they faded on their own. That had been her plan for handling her crush on Matt Sturniolo - ignore it, bury it deep, and wait for it to dissolve into nothing.
But the universe had different plans for her.
Instead of subsiding, her feelings for Matt had only grown. They grew with every laugh they shared, every accidental brush of his hand against hers, and every time he looked at her with those soft, oceanic eyes. It felt like the emotions were slipping out of her control, inch by inch, until tonight, when they completely exploded.
Now, she was walking through the freezing rain, her body trembling as water seeped through her clothes. She had never been more determined - or more terrified - in her life.
The Sturniolos' house was a few doors away, its warm glow spilling onto the wet pavement. It was almost midnight, and she knew the triplets and their parents would be gathered inside, celebrating New Year's Eve together. She didn’t care. She couldn’t wait for a "better" time or a "perfect" moment. Her time was now.
It had started hours earlier when she sat in her room with a notebook, jotting down her resolutions for the new year. She wanted 2025 to be different. She wanted it to be clean, honest, and full of things that truly made her happy. But one glaring thing wasn’t right - her feelings for Matt. She couldn’t go another year pretending she didn’t feel the way she did.
The rain fell down harder, and her breath came out in visible clouds as she approached the front door. The cold was relentless, but it barely registered compared to the storm inside her mind.
Her heart hammered as she pressed the doorbell. She could hear Trevor’s nails clicking on the hardwood floor as he bounded toward the door, his excited barking growing louder.
She smiled.
Of course. Having the triplets' parents in Los Angeles for New Year's had meant Trevor was here too.
Drops of water dripped down her face, mingling with her already damp hair, as she clenched her fists at her sides to stop the trembling. She didn’t know what she’d say when the door opened, but she knew she couldn’t leave without Matt knowing the truth.
The clock ticked closer to midnight.
11:50 PM.
Ten minutes until the new year. Ten minutes to change everything.
The door creaked open, and Matt showed up - not surprising, it was always Matt who got the door; Chris and Nick couldn’t be bothered most of the time. He stood in the doorway, his hand on the knob and his expression soft with curiosity.
Trevor bolted out before Matt could say a word, charging toward Y/N. His wet nose nudged her soaked leg, wagging his tail so hard it shook his whole body.
"Hey, boy." Y/N said softly, her voice trembling from the cold as she crouched down to scratch behind his ears. "I missed you."
Trevor barked once, happily, then turned and bounded back into the house, disappearing up the stairs toward the living room, leaving her alone with Matt.
Matt took a step forward, leaning against the doorframe. His brows knit together as his eyes swept over her, taking in the rain-slicked hair plastered to her face, her damp, trembling figure, and the strange look in her eyes - something between fear and anxiety.
"Y/N?" He asked cautiously, his voice quiet but edged with concern. "Hey, what are you doing here? Are you okay? It's almost midnight."
She wrapped her arms around herself, looking down at the wet ground beneath her feet.
"I know, I'm sorry. I just need to talk to you." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be quick, I promise."
Matt blinked in surprise, his gaze flickering toward the warm glow of the living room. He hesitated for a moment, then looked back at her.
"Okay." He said slowly, though his tone was laced with uncertainty. "But you should come inside. You’re soaked, and it’s freezing out here."
Y/N shook her head quickly, her voice catching as she replied.
"No. I can’t. I don’t even know if you’ll hate me after this, and I... I think it’s better if we stay out here."
Her words and the desperation in her eyes froze Matt in place. He let out a soft sigh, clearly torn, but he nodded.
"Okay." He repeated, his voice low. "Okay, we’ll stay here."
He stepped out fully onto the porch, the rain spilling over the edges of the roof above them. His hands were shoved into his hoodie pocket, and his expression was unreadable as he waited.
Y/N drew in a shaky breath, staring down at her soaked sneakers.
"Um... The first time we met." She began, cringing when her voice faltering slightly. "You completely threw me off guard."
Matt tilted his head slightly, confusion crossing his face, but he didn’t interrupt.
"I had heard so many amazing things about you on the internet." She continued, her words coming out in a rush. "When you and your brothers moved to LA, to my street, I thought I already had this perfect image of who you were. But then I actually met you."
She glanced up at him briefly before quickly looking away, unable to hold his gaze.
"You were more than I ever imagined. You exceeded every expectation I had in my head. You’re... so sweet, Matt. So kind. So human."
Her voice wavered, but she pushed on.
"You take care of people. You’re a gentleman, and you’re so thoughtful, always putting everyone else before yourself. And then we started spending all this time together. At your house, at mine, sleepovers, just... being with you."
Matt’s expression softened, but Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the ground.
"You were always there." She whispered. "And every time you were, you pulled at my heart a little more. You made a home inside it, Matt. You made it warmer. And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you."
Her cheeks burned despite the cold rain.
"When I realized how I felt, I was terrified. I thought, 'Why would someone like Matt ever feel the same?'"
Matt opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N raised a hand, cutting him off.
"So I hid it." Her voice broke slightly as she added. "I buried it so deep because I couldn’t lose you. I wasn’t ever going to tell you, Matt. I wasn’t. But tonight..."
Y/N took another shaky breath, her fingers trembling as she pushed her damp hair back from her face.
"Tonight." She repeated, her voice quieter now but still steady. "I was sitting in my room, writing down my resolutions for the new year, as I always do, you know that. But then I started thinking about what I wanted for 2025, what I wanted my life to look like, the things I needed to fix, or let go of. And then I realized something." She hesitated, her chest rising and falling as she braced herself. "The one thing I haven’t been honest about with anyone is how I feel about you. And I can’t go into a new year carrying this secret anymore. I just... I can’t."
Matt’s brows knit together as she continued.
"I can’t stop thinking about you, Matt. I think about you all the time. Your laugh, your kind words, the way you’re always so thoughtful. The way you smile at me like I’m the only person in the room. Everything about you, every little piece of you, it’s always on my mind."
Her voice trembled, but she didn’t stop.
"Every time I see something, it reminds me of you. A song, a movie, even the smallest things, like the way the rain smells or the sound of someone laughing across the street. It all brings me back to you. You’re the only thing that never slips my mind, no matter what time of day it is."
Matt’s lips parted slightly, but he stayed silent, his hands still buried in his hoodie pockets as he listened.
"You’re my best friend." Y/N said, her voice breaking slightly. "But I want more. I need more."
Her eyes finally met his, and for a moment, she forgot the rain, the cold, and the fear pounding in her chest.
"I want to be called yours. I want to be seen by your eyes with love, not just as your friend. I want to be held by your hands, kissed by your lips... I want to be yours, Matt."
Tears mingled with the rain on her face as she finished, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"And I'm so sorry for damping all of this on you like that. I know it’s a lot, and I’m probably ruining everything right now. I-I never wanted to mess up our friendship-"
"Y/N-" Matt interrupted, his voice firm but gentle, but she didn’t even hear him, lost in the whirlwind of her thoughts.
"And I don’t want you to feel bad for rejecting it. I know you don’t feel the same way, because why would you? People like you never fall in love with people like me-"
"Y/N."
His voice was louder this time, cutting through her rambling like a sharp blade. She froze, her eyes widening as she finally looked at him.
"Y/N." He said again, softer now, his eyes locking with hers. "You're so silly. People like me fall in love with people like you all the time, actually."
"What?" She whispered, her voice barely audible. Her brows knitted together in confusion, her lips parting as if to say something else, but nothing came out of them.
Matt shook his head, a small, breathy laugh escaping his lips before he leaned in.
His hands found her waist, gripping her soaked shirt as he pulled her closer, and then his lips were on hers. The kiss was everything at once, soft yet intense, hesitant yet confident, warm despite the cold rain pouring down around them.
Y/N gasped softly against his mouth, her hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his messy hair. His lips were softer than she could’ve ever imagined, moving against hers with a fervor that sent shivers down her spine.
Their mouths opened, their tongues brushing and intertwining in a dance that felt both foreign and natural. The rain mixed with their saliva, the taste of each other blending with the crispness of the winter air.
Matt’s hands tightened on her waist, grounding her as her knees threatened to give way, and her fingers tugged lightly at his hair, earning a quiet groan from him that she felt more than heard.
The world around them seemed to fade away, the cold forgotten as their shared warmth became the only thing that mattered.
And then, like magic, the sound of fireworks exploded in the distance, the vibrant colors illuminating the dark, rain-soaked sky. Cheers and laughter echoed from nearby houses, and Y/N’s mind registered what was happening: midnight.
12:00 AM.
January 1st, 2025.
New Year's Day.
Slowly, they broke apart, their breaths mingling in the space between them as their foreheads rested together. Y/N’s heart was racing, her cheeks flushed despite the chill, and she could see the reflection of the fireworks in Matt’s eyes.
"Happy New Year." He whispered, his voice soft and filled with something she could only describe as love.
She laughed breathlessly, a smile breaking across her face.
"Happy New Year." She replied, her voice light despite the tears still glistening in her eyes.
Matt pulled back slightly, his lips twitching into a small smile.
"So... do you want to come inside now? I think you’ve been out in the rain long enough."
Y/N chuckled, nodding.
"Yeah, I think I do."
He reached for her hand, his fingers warm and steady as they intertwined with hers, and together, they walked inside the house, leaving the cold rain and the past year behind.
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mrsbarnesblog · 1 day ago
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one step at a time
masterlist
summary: after being rejected by you, the person who managed to catch Rafe's attention in a way no one else ever had, he goes spiraling into his addiction even more. you happened to be the only one who was able to pull him out of the turmoil in which he had buried himself in the last years.
words count: 6.5k
warnings: drug addiction, withdrawls, mutual pinning, angsty with happy ending
a/n: i've been writing and rewriting it since august and i still don't know whether i like the final result or not, so i'm ready for your feedback. aaaand happy new year to all of you, my precious followers. hope this one will bring you only the best💘
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You felt your skin getting hotter under the intense gaze of a particular guy who had been starring at you whenever you two were in the same room. The one who was present in your head all the time, no matter how hard you tried to get distracted and convince yourself that it was not the person that you needed in your life.
Rafe Cameron.
He was in a circle of his so-called friends, mostly not paying attention to them and instead watching you. You didn’t know when it started to happen—when the looks that you gave to each other started to get longer and more frequent, when your eyes started to search around the rooms until they found what they wanted, when the small talks that you had during official Kook’s events became so awkward and nervous.
Your fathers worked together for a few years, so you weren’t friends, more like acquaintances who occasionally attended the same galas and parties, where you usually ended up in the same circle of people. And who, well, might have developed a secret crush on each other. 
The thing is, you didn’t know why you felt that way. Rafe was certainly not the nicest person on the island, yet you didn’t have a real reason to hate him either. He was a menace; he was spoiled and thrived on attention from others. But Rafe was undeniably hot, so damn attractive without even trying, and you just wanted him. Your whole body was gravitating towards him, no matter how you tried to get this bullshit out of your head. 
Still, you knew for a fact that no matter how much even his presence in the room affected you, seeing him do countless and countless lines at every party pushed you away from him more than anything else ever could. You were not the one to ever judge people for their addictions, but seeing many times what drugs did to people, you didn’t want to deal with it at all. Remembering the first time you noticed it, the first time Sarah cried because of how her brother became so reckless and that she was scared for him, a shiever ran down your spine. 
You excused yourself and left from inside the house when the air became to thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat from people all around you and when your thoughts started to wander in the familiar direction. You found a semi-quiet space at the balcony on the second floor, but it didn’t take too long until someone else went there, as you heard footsteps approaching you. 
“What are you doing here alone?” You instantly turned around at the sound of Rafe’s smooth voice, only to catch him looking at you up and down with a gleam in his eyes. You heart raced, almost breaking out of your ribcage, while you tried to visibly not freak out.
“Nothing, just needed some fresh air.” You shrugged. “And why are you here?” 
“Honestly?” He chuckled, seemingly feeling nervous, as his right hand started rubbing the back of his neck. “I followed you.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah, kinda wanted to talk to you alone for a long time.” He stepped closer, mostly looking at the floor and licking his lips. You didn’t know whether it was the chill air or the fact that Rafe’s presence had a weird influence on you, but you shivered. “You’re so pretty tonight, y’know? I mean, always. Thought I could ask you to hang out sometime. Like without shit tons of people around us?”
Your eyes followed the movements of his slightly trembling hands and the realization that he was high again made your heart sink. It were drugs speaking, you were sure that he wouldn’t have done it with a sober mind, so you just pursed your lips at the bitter feeling in your chest. 
Rafe was almost jittery, either from finally asking you out or the powder that was currently flooding his system — he didn’t even know that himself. He wanted to ask you out for ages, always thinking about the way you pulled his attention like a magnet, the way he craved you more with every passing day, but it seemed like there was never a good moment for that. 
“Rafe…” You breathed out his name, your eyes finally finding his. Pupils dilated, almost covering the pretty blue color, and the look so distant, weird, as if he wasn’t even fully there. “I can’t. This is wrong. I don’t want to do it like that.” 
“You-you’re looking at me. I know I’m not fucking crazy. You look at me the same way I look at you, don’t bullshit me, Y/N.” His eyes narrowed, his throat suddenly dry from the nerves and a hurting feeling of rejection. He stepped closer, which seemed like a way to intimidate you, but you weren't afraid of him, not even in this state of mind. 
“I’m not… denying it, okay? I like you, for some reason.” Your cheeks heated, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, but still looking up at him with seriousness and concern. “But I hate your lifestyle, Rafe. Say whatever you want, but this is not normal. You’re high even right now—I see it in your eyes. Will you even remember this party, me, our conversation the next morning?”
Was it anger that was bubbling inside of him right now? Or maybe agitation? Whatever it was, it hurt him deeply, more than he could admit. For the first time ever, Rafe actually, genuinely, became interested in someone, not with the intention of a meaningless hook up, but just because something was pulling him towards you. And, of course, he had to fuck everything up again with his dumb ass desicions. 
Who was he kidding, thinking that you wouldn’t care about the coke? You were possibly the sweetest person on the island, despite being a kook, and he had never even heard any rumors about you doing anything illegal. You were just the definition of a rich girl who enjoyed her perfect life on an island, hanging out with your friends, doing your hobbies, and never getting into trouble. 
Rafe just wanted to hit his head against the wall from the amount of mixed feelings and thoughts that his poor overstimulated mind was experiencing right now. 
“Rafe, please listen and understand what I say. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just saying that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not even fully there. If the situation was different, I would’ve happily accepted it.” His attention was focused on the floor, but from the way his jaw was clenching while you were talking, you knew that he was listening. “These people are not your friends, because they let you do that and they do not care. You should stop destroying your mind and your body with drugs while you can.” 
You tried to reach out to touch him, but he flinched. 
“Yeah, I–I get it. See ya later.” He mumbled under his breath, not even looking at you.
“Rafe, wait! Rafe!” You tried to call out, but he was already gone, mixing in the croud of people in the main room.
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You pushed on the button on the doorbell for the third time, but it seemed like Cameron’s house was silent. Rafe’s truck was on the driveway, as was his red bike, so you knew that he must be home. 
After that talk with Rafe almost three weeks ago, you only heard about him and caught a few glimpses with his friends at Figure 8. People talked that he had gone even crazier than usual and that Shoupe arrested him twice. You were worried that it might be your fault, but just when you decided to catch Rafe the next time you see him, he vanished for the whole day. 
You had to call Sarah to ask what was wrong with her brother, making up a stupid excuse for your sudden interest, and the only thing that she told you was him not getting out of his room and acting weird.
Maybe it was a bad idea to come here uninvited when clearly no one else besides Rafe was home, or because you weren’t even that close, but it was too late to go back when you opened the front door and slowly went up the stairs to his room. 
You were in the house a few times already, when your families had their usual gatherings together, so you pretty much knew where you had to look for Rafe. You stopped in front of his door, unsure of your actions, but before you could run away like a child, your hand had already knocked on the door.
The soft groans and mumbling were heard inside, as well as the sound of the bedsheets and something falling on the floor. Your first thought about him having someone over there made your heart drop for a second, but another groan, almost painful, filled you with concern.  
“Get—get the fuck away, Sarah. T-told you a million fu-ucking times.” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, and it seemed like he was trembling with the way it shaked. You heard cussing and more groans. He did not sound like himself with those strange pauses and unusual sounds, which made the level of your worry skyrocket. What if he was doing coke in there, or maybe something stronger? His ego must’ve gotten hurt because of your rejection, and now he was putting that shit up his nose again. 
“It’s not Sarah, Rafe. Open, please.” You rested your head on the door, listening to the complete silence after your words. He was thinking—you knew that. He was trying to figure something out, and the fact that you didn’t know what was exactly happening frightened you. "Fuck, are you doing it again? I won’t go until you open the door. Rafe, this is not funny!” 
You didn’t expect to see what was in front of you. As soon as the door opened, another version of Rafe was looking at you. He was barely standing straight, gripping the side of the door for dear life, shaking like a leaf and sweating. His face was pale, with almost white lips and bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 
You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, but stepped closer to take a hold of his face. He took something worse than cocaine. He’s high again. It’s bad. Your mind immediately went to a dark place, already feeling tears at the brim of your eyes. 
That’s when Rafe’s eyes met yours, and you froze in place. 
“You are clean.” You said, not asked, breathlessly. Tired, red, and slightly watery, but still clear, eyes looked right at you with a mixture of shame and relief. He licked his lips a few times, probably dehydrated, trying to stay focused on you despite feeling too sick to stand up straight. “Oh my god, Rafe, I thought—What's happening?” 
When he didn’t respond to you, with a new wave of confidence, you pushed him back into the darkness of the room, closing the door behind you and looking around. It was a mess, but no empty bottles, white powder, or random credit cards were seen, and you sighed with relief. 
Rafe was barely holding himself up. His body was fighting against him, craving that poisonous relief again. He swayed on his legs, suddenly feeling way too hot again, even though his skin was covered in goosebumps. It started to become more than he could handle, but another reminder that you were, in fact, right in front of him came in the form of your hands holding his face. 
Your soft eyes were searching for something in him while he tried to focus on your face. He thought that maybe he started hallucinating because, why else would you be there? Rafe leaned forward as his face curled in pain. You hummed in response, taking some of his body weight on yourself. Your hands stayed on his face, while his own trembling ones fell on your waist for some kind of support. 
At first, he thought that he was mad at you. After you rejected him, when he finally found power in himself to talk to you at that party, he was furious. He came back to his friends, immediately pulling out a plastic bag from his pocket and emptying it on the table in front of him. He inhaled more than he needed, hurt and angry from what you said to him. It blocked his mind for some time as everything around got muffled and blurry. His heart was pounding, his breath shallow, but his mind spun faster than he could keep up with. Every word you’d said echoed in his head, sharper and more painful each time.
It went on like that for some time, and at one point Rafe couldn’t even figure out what day it was. Everything was just a blur of parties, his coke buddies, and countless lines on every surface possible. It was bad, and at the back of his mind he knew that he was spiraling somewhere he wouldn’t be able to get out of, but then again, he had no one to try for. Ward didn’t care as long as Rafe didn’t cause any problems; his sisters gave him stares that he thought were either pity or disgust, as you... you weren’t there to fully see it all, so he did everything to prove God knows what, knowing damn well that it was hurt.  
The coke gave him fleeting moments of numbness, but it never lasted. The hurt always came back, heavier and sharper, gnawing at him when the highs faded and the quiet of his thoughts became unbearable.
It all was adding up, until one time Sarah caught him blacked out on the couch besides the pool. He still didn’t know whether it was a game of his mind or it happened actually, but he remembered her faint silhouette, sitting in front of him. She sounded like she was crying, but he wasn’t sure—too high to actually understand. What he remembers were her words, that surprisingly his mind was able to comprehend even in that state. “I thought you were gonna get better. I thought Y/N would be the one to pull you out of this.” Her voice cracked, a mix of sadness and disappointment that cut through the fog in his brain. “But look at you, Rafe. You’re worse than ever.”
Rafe’s vision blurred, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the high or the emotion clawing its way to the surface. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body felt like lead. He hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, laid out in front of his sister like a broken mess.
“He cares about you, you know. She told me a long time ago how much she liked you. I know you do too. And you could’ve had it all if only you were able to get out of your own way.” Sarah said, her voice soft but edged with frustration. “But instead, you’re here, killing yourself slowly over something that you could fix. Or maybe you’re just too scared to try.”
“I’m not scared.” He gritted his teeth, groaning at the baanging noises in his head.
“Then prove it. Fix your life, Rafe. Until it’s too late.” 
He didn't remember what happened after that, but then he woke up with a more clear head, still confused and disoriented. Sarah’s words were hanging at the back of his head.
What was he even trying to prove? To you? To himself? He’d spent so much time running from the pain, from the rejection, from the fear that he hadn’t realized he was running in circles, destroying everything in his path.
Rafe stood shakily, gripping the back of the couch for support. His reflection in the sliding glass door caught his eye, and he barely recognized the person staring back. Bloodshot eyes, hollow cheeks, and a gauntness that hadn’t been there before. It was a version of himself he couldn’t stand to look at anymore.
He wasn’t sure where to start or if he even knew how to fix it, but he knew one thing: Sarah, once, was right. If he didn’t make a change now, it would be too late. Too late for you to ever see him as someone worth caring about again. Too late to prove to himself that he could be better.
Dragging a hand down his face, Rafe took a shaky breath. One step at a time, he thought, Sarah’s voice still echoing in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could do it. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but for the first time, he wanted to try.
“It burns. I feel like my body is on fuckin’ fire. It’s in my veins. I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” Rafe’s eyes flattered, and his breathing became heavier as another wave of heat washed over him. “I don’t wanna take coke again, but shit—-“
“You can, Rafe. I know you can. You’re doing so well. You have to fight it just a little longer.” You ran your thumbs over his cheeks and realized that he was way too hot. “You need to cool off a little. Can you take a cold shower? Can you do that by yourself?” You slightly patted his cheek until his eyes focused back on yours.
“You actually came?” His voice was hesitant, almost fragile, and a sad smile touched your lips.
“I did. I’ll help you, okay?”
“Mhm… Stay here? Please.” He almost begged, leaning into your touch and licking his dry lips again. With your touch still lingering on his face, Rafe stumbled into his private bathroom while you decided to prepare everything for him. 
After politely rummaging through the room, you found new bed sheets to replace the old ones. Then you quickly aired the room, brought a couple water bottles from the kitchen downstairs, and turned on only one light to not disturb Rafe and his sensitive mind right now. 
As you were cleaning up, you got lost in your thoughts about what had happened in the past few weeks. From Rafe asking you out, then seemingly going crazy because of your rejection, and now his attempt to quit drugs. Not that you didn’t believe in him, but he was so stubborn, and with the amount of problems constantly surrounding him, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he had just ignored you and continued living his own way. 
But you wanted him to get clean so badly because you hated the way coke was affecting him. You knew him for a pretty long time now, and you couldn’t miss the changes in his behavior after he started using. You wanted to see the real him, wanted to help him out, no matter how cliche it sounded. 
You hated that he was so careless about his own body and mind that he willingly put that shit up his nose again and again, thinking that it would change anything. You had feelings for Rafe, you did for a long time, no matter how many people openly said that he was a disaster and a big problem. One thing that you knew for sure was that if he really wanted to try, then you would support him. 
You heard the bathroom door creak open and turned to see Rafe leaning against the frame. He looked exhausted, his damp hair falling into his eyes, his skin pale but no longer feverish. He wore a fresh pair of sweatpants, the towel he had used slung loosely around his shoulders. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and shame, like he wasn’t sure he deserved the care you were giving him.
“Hey.” You said softly, walking over to him. “You feeling any better?”
He nodded faintly, his eyes meeting yours. “A little.” He admitted, though his voice was hoarse. “Thanks for… all this.”
You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Rafe’s movements were a little slower than usual when he came closer to you, as if he craved your presence around him. “Just made you a fresh bed. I also brought some water because you’re probably dehydrated. You should try to fall asleep, and I’ll stay here if you want to.” You softly smiled, not missing the way his eyes were glued to your lips, as if he were trying to understand you better. 
“Yeah—shit, I mean okay.” Rafe started breathing heavily again, shaking his head to clear the fog and trying to stop his hands from shaking. 
In a few minutes, you managed to get you both into his bed, with you sitting against the headboard and Rafe’s head comfortably placed on the pillow on your lap. He was facing you, so you could see the way his eyes were flattering while he tried to control himself. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked quietly, mindlessly running your hands through his long hair.
“Didn’t think that you would care about it, ‘cause you clearly said no to me.” He shrugged, while one of his hands sneaked under the pillow on your legs and touched your thigh. It wasn’t sexual in any way, but it gave Rafe some kind of comfort.
“I care about you. You are my friend.”
“I don’t wanna be your friend, Y/N.” 
You shook your head at his stubbornness, sliding your fingers down the side of his face. “I know, but we are. At least for now.” Rafe scoffed, tightening the grip on your thigh and trembling as another wave of chills washed over his body. “Sh-h. Remember, I didn’t say ‘no’. I said that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not fully here. It would be unfair for both of us. So now you have to get better, and then we’ll work from there.” His tired eyes met yours as if he were trying to understand whether you were serious or not. “When was the last time you used anything?”
“Yesterday morning.” 
“Mhm, so it’s your second day already. That’s amazing, Ray.” 
Rafe just hummed in response, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. You made him drink some water, trying to convince him that his body needed to get rid of the toxins, and one of the best ways to do it was by drinking a lot of fluids. He was surprisingly obedient, just going back to his previous position with one hand on your leg and facing you. 
You two settled into a comfortable silence, both too lost in your own heads and thoughts. 
Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave your face. No matter how hard it was for him to focus, he studied your features that were perfectly illuminated by the small lamp. He looked at you countless times, always sneaking glances when no one would notice, but right now he thought that you looked the most beautiful. With a soft smile and eyes and slightly messy hair. 
Your hand that was brushing through his dump hair and then touching his face like a feather was almost too good to be true, making Rafe almost forget about the poisonous cravings and unusual reactions of his body. You, you, you—were the only thing on his mind. It was soothing and peaceful. It was calming the storm in his head, so Rafe didn’t want this moment to ever end. 
You mindlessly traced lines on Rafe’s face, just admiring the way he seemed to be calm and relaxed, as much as it was possible in his condition, and how it differentiated from the way he had always acted. Maybe it was stupid on your part to get closer with Rafe so easily, because, let’s face it, he could go back to his habits as soon as you stepped out of the house. Everyone around you constantly talked about him being the type of person who would never change to please somebody and who would never put his pride aside. 
But no matter how hard you tried, the boy in front of you, the one who looked at you with trust and unusual softness, made your heart beat faster. Your body and mind were screaming that you did the right thing and that he was worth saving, so you couldn’t just walk away and pretend to feel nothing. 
As you watched his eyes start to flutter with sleepiness, your own hands slowed down. With the wave of comfort that his company and the atmosphere of the room had brought you, you didn’t notice how you fell asleep. 
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The next few days were rough for both of you, with Rafe trying to pull his shit together and not give up and with you trying to be as helpful as possible. He struggled a lot. You saw that pretty clearly, but what you also saw was how actually strong Rafe was and how determined he became to get through it. 
It was underestimating to say that your help and support meant everything to him. Your words of encouragement, your genuine kindness and willingness to help, your visits and time that you spend in his room—it all made it seem like the efforts were not worthless and that there was a reason to fight. 
After almost a week since the day you first fell asleep in Rafe’s bed, your relationship started progressing rapidly. You started actually getting to know each other, and countless text messages and phone calls were proof of that. 
He was feeling much better; the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had passed, and the fog in his mind started to lift. It wasn’t perfect, and there were moments where he felt overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had to face, but he was getting there. You could see it in the way he started to smile more often and how his voice had grown steadier on the phone; he became calmer and wasn’t always on the edge of snapping. 
Your attraction to Rafe grew rapidly whenever you saw the real version of him, the one that was soft and caring, brought up to the surface—the one that had been buried beneath layers of anger, frustration, and his addiction. The version of him that you knew had always been there but had been clouded for so long. It was these moments, the quiet ones when he was relaxed and open, when his vulnerability came through, that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.
Sitting on the porch at your house, you thought about Rafe and your time together, and your tummy fluttered with anticipation for what was yet to come. You saw that longing look in Rafe's eyes, and you weren’t one bit surprised because that night he clearly said that your friendship was not enough for him, but you hoped to move slowly. 
Even if your breath always hitched whenever he stepped closer or lowered himself to say something to you. 
Even if your heart skipped a bit whenever you saw a message with his name next to it. 
A notification from your phone brought you back to the present, and as soon as you saw Rafe’s text, you proved yourself right. Your heart skipped a beat again as a shy smile touched your lips. 
Café near the beach? My treat. I have something to show you
k, i’ll be there in fifteen
When you got out of the taxi, your eyes scanned the people sitting in the open area under the light of the setting sun, but you didn’t see one particular guy who started messing with your head in the best way possible. 
That was until you saw someone turning their head back, as if they sensed you standing there, and your mouth fell open in shock. 
You came closer as Rafe stood up from his chair with a smug look on his face, but your eyes were too hungry, taking him in, to even try to be respectful. 
“Your hair! Oh god, Rafe! How—why—when?" Your hand reached out to touch his freshly buzzed hair, rubbing it back and forth. 
“Texted you as soon as I finished. Just wanted to get rid of the past, y’know.” He shrugged, soft eyes studying your face that was way closer while you inspected his new haircut. “Don’t you like it?”
“It’s hot—I mean, you look hot. It suits you.” You stepped back, looking up and down, trying to memorize a new image. Rafe did look hotter. You suddenly noticed his sharp jawline, strong neck, and shoulders. Damn, he looked bigger. He looked healthier. With that spark in his blue eyes, smoothed, tan skin, and muscles... Oh god, you felt your face getting hotter as your eyes lingered on his arms way too long. 
How the hell did you miss his sudden transformation from being a frat guy to a rich golden boy? Was it the effect of his quitting drugs and finally drifting apart with his previous lifestyle and friends?
“It definitely does. Though I'll miss playing with them.” You mumbled, suddenly nervous and shy under his gaze.
“You think I look hot, hm?” He teased, placing a firm yet gentle hand on your lower back.
Touchy, but never overstepping. 
“Don’t you know that already?” You bit your lip to hold back a smile, placing your hands on Rafe’s upper arms and looking up through your lashes. You both felt that sudden tickling feeling running through your veins at the eye contact, and it made you both start smiling without any words being said. 
“A’ight, I think we should go get something to eat.” 
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You were going around the people who flooded the beach house that you were currently in. With you constantly spending time with Rafe, your friends almost begged you to the party, only to leave you almost instantly as they got too interested in the experience of alcohol. Not that you were too upset about it, because you still asked Rafe to come with you, and he was more than happy to do anything for you. 
The music was too loud in the main room, and you went through the back door to an open yard that led right to the beach and was still full of drunk people, but at least there was some fresh air, and Rafe had already been waiting for you on the bench near the big wooden table with lots of drinks. 
You left him just for a few minutes just to use a bathroom, but when you stepped outside, you saw him talking to a guy that you had only seen around when Rafe was doing drugs. Your heart started beating faster at the sight of their obviously not so calm conversation, and you rushed closer to know what was happening. 
“Rare? What’s going on?” You stepped beside him, brushing your hand against his stiff back. “What do you want from him?” You pointed a finger at the guy whose name you didn’t bother to remember, and he just snickered back at you. 
“Nothing. It’s alright, sweetheart.” 
“Quit being a pussy, man. I have the best shit with me today. You’ll get high as a kite.” The guy completely ignored you, only looking at Rafe. You could physically feel the anxiety washing over you at the thought of it happening again, of Rafe just walking away with him right now and leaving you here alone. 
You tugged at his arm, trying to catch his attention. “Rafe, you promised. We should go now, please.” He looked back at you, nodding without hesitation and catching your hand to interlace your fingers. 
“Told you that I quit it. Go chase someone else, Hugh.” 
“Because of this bitch?” The moment this word left his mouth, Rafe’s hands gripped the front of Hugh’s t-shirt, backing him against the table and knocking over a few bottles. 
“Call her a bitch one more fucking time and I’ll knock off your teeth.” The guy lifted his hands in surrender, as Rafe was seething with anger, without a doubt meaning what he just said. 
You tugged gently on his arm again, trying to ease the situation. “Rafe, let’s just go, please.” You urged, your voice soft but firm, hoping to ground him before things escalated any further.
Rafe’s breath was heavy, his grip on Hugh’s shirt still tight, but his eyes were fixed on you now, softening at your touch. Slowly, he released Hugh, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, we’re done here.” Rafe muttered, his voice low and controlled, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. You guided him away from the curious people, who were already whispering about the unfolded scene.
You sat on a wooden bench under a giant tree, with your legs thrown over Rafe’s and almost no distance between you two. It happened so instantly, so naturally, that none of you even thought about it. Rafe had his warm hands laying on your thighs and knees and rubbing your exposed skin in small circles, keeping his eyes down.
A silence lingered between the two of you, and while Rafe was too lost in his head, you took your time to admire him. You spent so much time together over the past month, not because you felt obliged to, but because it was simply amazing. Underneath all of those layers, you found real Rafe, the one who was teasing, who was funny, and the one who was super protective and incredibly caring.
You had never expected to be absolutely down for a man like him, but he was getting so much better with every passing day, never giving you a reason to doubt his intentions. Of course you didn’t forget Rafe’s words about him wanting to be more than your friend, and it lingered over your head every time you caught him staring at you. Though he had never rushed anything, wanting to have that natural bond between you grow stronger and only showing his hidden desires with glances full of admiration and with careful touches. 
Rafe’s head suddenly shot up, eyes clear yet narrowed. He smirked, seeing you already looking at him and subconsciously tightening his hold on your leg. He held eye contact for a few seconds, making a smile tug at your lips before he looked away, shaking his head with a deep chuckle. 
“What?” You half-whispered, suddenly feeling shy. 
“Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” You tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold back a smile, but miserably fail when he moves a tiny bit closer and all you can see, feel, and smell is him. “You’re like— I’m— Fuck, you made me stutter like a damn middle schooler…” He was completely infatuated by you, barely able to handle his violently beating heart.  
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound warm and full of affection. The way Rafe was fumbling with his words, clearly flustered, made you feel something deep in your chest—a flutter that wasn’t just attraction but something more vulnerable, something you hadn’t expected to feel when you first started spending time together.
“Rafe…” You whispered, leaning in just a little, your voice low and teasing. “You’re so cute when you’re like this.”
His eyes darkened slightly at your words, the smirk on his lips turning into something more sincere, more tender. He took a deep breath, shifting so he was closer, his chest nearly touching yours. His fingers slowly and carefully traced the edge of your skirt, and the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips made the air feel thick with tension.
“Don’t do that.” He said softly, his voice a mixture of amusement and longing. “I’m trying not to make this harder for myself.”
“Trying?” You raised an eyebrow, your teasing smile not leaving your lips. You knew exactly what you were doing, enjoying every second of his reaction. “You’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.”
Rafe exhaled sharply, his hand now resting on your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth slowly as if he were trying to steady himself. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and erratic. He leaned forward just enough to close the space between your faces, his lips hovering over yours, but not touching. The energy in the air around you suddenly shifted, and you raised your hand to his neck to pull him even closer.
“I don’t want to rush this.” Rafe murmured, his voice low and serious, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “But god… you make it so damn hard to hold back.”
You could feel his heart beating against yours, the rhythm erratic but strong. You didn’t speak for a moment, simply breathing with him, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.
“You don’t have to hold back. I’m not going anywhere, Ray.” You said softly, your voice almost a promise.
And with that, the tension seemed to snap, the silent understanding between you both growing stronger. He finally closed the space between you, his lips pressing gently against yours, tentative at first, as if he were still unsure but desperate to feel you. And as the kiss deepened, as he pulled you closer to his body, you were completely lost. 
The kiss deepened further, his tongue gently coaxing yours into a slow dance. He was lost in you, the intensity of the moment making everything else fade away. The way you responded, so naturally, so eagerly, only fueled his desire. Rafe’s grip on you tightened, pulling you onto his lap, your bodies fully pressed together now, the heat of his body seeping into yours.
When he finally pulled back, his lips still brushed against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. He looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than just desire—there was a tenderness, raw and vulnerable, something that had been buried beneath the walls he’d built around himself.
"Thank you." Rafe breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here. For helping me... through all of this. I don’t think I could have done it without you."
You smiled softly, licking your lips before speaking. “You don’t have to thank me. You should be proud of yourself for being able to do that.” You traced your fingers down the side of his face. “Just promise me you won’t stop trying if something hard happens, okay? You have me, and you have your sixers who care about you too.”
“Okay. I won’t. I promise.” Turning his head to the side to place a kiss on the palm of your hand that lingered on his face, Rafe pulled your body closer to him. There was still a lot to work on, but hidden away from other people, you finally savoured a quiet moment between you two, and for the first time, there was nothing but peace and warmth in both of your hearts. 
298 notes · View notes
extinctlesspains · 2 days ago
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hiiiiii Can you do Sae byeok x fem reader Where they are best friends but act like a couple (Holding hands, kissing each others cheek and Beck, cuddleing/spooning each other, reader sitting on Sae byeoks lap, ect.) and everyone/ her parents think that you two are a couple. Thank you and have a Good Day or night
𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡? [𝐾.,𝑆𝑎𝑒-𝐵𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑘]
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴀɴɢ sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ғʟᴜғғ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʙᴇsᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙᴏɴᴅ ғɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴀɴᴅ-ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ, ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴋɪssᴇs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟɪɴɢ, ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs, sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ ᴋɪssᴇs ʏᴏᴜ, ʙʟᴜʀʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴡᴀʏ.
ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ᴋɪssɪɴɢ
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ 
You and Sae-byeok had been inseparable since middle school, bound together by the shared struggles of growing up and navigating life’s unpredictability. From the moment you met, there had always been something unspoken between the two of you—an unshakeable closeness that most people would mistake for a relationship.
It was just how you were with each other.
You held hands when you walked through crowded streets, Sae-byeok’s strong grip always tugging you closer when she felt someone brush too close. She’d instinctively kiss your temple whenever she saw you stress over exams, and you’d kiss her cheek in return when she did well on something.
Sitting in her lap wasn’t unusual, either. Whenever the two of you watched movies or studied together, it was the most natural thing in the world for you to curl up against her, your arms slung lazily around her neck while she absentmindedly twirled strands of your hair around her fingers.
Her parents, who adored you like their own daughter, had long since given up trying to figure out the nature of your relationship. “You two are so cute together,” her mother would say with a fond smile as she handed you a cup of tea. “When will you finally make it official?”
You’d always laugh awkwardly, glancing at Sae-byeok to see how she reacted. But she never seemed bothered by the assumption, simply shrugging it off or teasingly resting her head on your shoulder.
But the truth was… sometimes you wished it were true.
One chilly evening, you found yourself in Sae-byeok’s room, bundled up in her bed after a long day. She’d insisted you stay over since it was too cold to walk home, and you didn’t need much convincing. The two of you had shared a bed so many times it didn’t even feel strange anymore.
Now, lying tangled together under the blankets, you felt her arm drape around your waist, her breath warm against the back of your neck. Your hand reached back to rest on hers, tracing small circles with your thumb.
“Comfy?” she asked softly, her voice low and soothing in the quiet.
“Always,” you replied, turning slightly so you could see her face. Her dark eyes looked softer in the dim light of the room, and you felt a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.
Moments like this made you wonder.
“Sae,” you began hesitantly, “do you think… maybe everyone has a point? That we act more like a couple than just friends?”
She blinked, her expression unreadable as she tilted her head slightly. “Does it bother you?”
You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… sometimes, I wonder if I want it to be real.”
The silence that followed felt heavy, and you held your breath, worried you might’ve crossed some kind of invisible line. But then Sae-byeok shifted, her hand slipping from your waist to gently cup your cheek.
“Maybe it already is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart raced as her thumb brushed against your skin. You searched her eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all you saw was the same steady calmness that had always grounded you.
And then, before you could overthink it, her lips were on yours—soft, warm, and familiar in a way that felt like coming home.
The kiss didn’t change much between you, at least not outwardly. You still held hands, kissed each other’s cheeks, and cuddled like nothing had happened. But the energy between you felt lighter now, less burdened by uncertainty.
The next time her mother teased you about being a couple, Sae-byeok’s lips twitched into a barely concealed smile, and she laced her fingers through yours.
“We’ll see,” she said simply, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
And just like that, everything and nothing had changed.
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buttercandy16 · 2 days ago
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Consequences to your Actions
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PAIRING(s): Agatha Harkness x Reader, Rio Vidal x Reader
SUMMARY: A woman, betrayed by her wife, embarks on an affair with her boss, Agatha Harkness. Agatha's control leads to a divorce, but when the truth emerges, it’s too late—Agatha will do anything to keep her.
WARNING(s): Infidelity, Manipulation, Obsession, Implied Stalking, Betrayal, Deception, Abuse, Control, Gaslighting, Dub-Con, SMUT, and other Dark themes I forgot to mention.
A/N: The itching need to add Rio even if I'm only writing her as a minor character. Enjoy!
You should’ve known something was wrong the moment Rio started coming home late. At first, she had excuses—work meetings that ran over, urgent deadlines at her law firm, impromptu drinks with colleagues. You didn’t think much of it at first; your own work at Harkness Industries was demanding enough, and you weren’t about to begrudge her the same kind of schedule.
But as the weeks went by, the excuses started to feel hollow. She became distant, absent even when she was physically there. When she kissed you, it was fleeting. When she held you, it felt like her arms were a cage keeping something unspoken inside.
And then there was her phone.
It started buzzing at odd hours—late at night, early in the morning. She was quick to silence it, brushing off your questions with tight-lipped explanations. “It’s just work,” she’d say, or, “You know how chaotic things get this time of year.”
You wanted to believe her. God, you needed to believe her. But the unease festered.
Your life began unraveling on a quiet Tuesday evening. You hadn’t expected it—betrayal rarely came with a warning. As you walked into the apartment, exhausted from work, Rio stood in the kitchen, fiddling with her phone. At first, it seemed innocent, just another moment of routine. But when you greeted her, she flinched, quickly locking the device and shoving it into her pocket.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice soft but tinged with curiosity.
“Nothing.” She gave you a nervous smile, brushing past to put the kettle on. “How was work?”
Her attempt to divert the conversation only made you more suspicious. It wasn’t like her to be evasive. Still, you brushed it off. Maybe you were overthinking things.
But the unease didn’t go away. In fact, it worsened as the days passed.
Late one night, unable to sleep, you saw Rio’s phone buzzing on the nightstand. The name flashing on the screen—"Unknown"—was strange enough. Stranger still was the message preview: “Can’t stop thinking about you. Last night…”
You froze, nausea twisting your stomach. Before you could react, Rio stirred, taking the phone in her hand and quickly silencing it.
“What are you doing?” she mumbled, clearly trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.
“Who is this?” you demanded.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she stammered, her voice shaky. “That’s—she’s just a friend. It’s not like that.”
“A friend?” You couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped you. “Who texts their friends last night was amazing?”
She tried to defend herself, but the damage was done. You didn’t believe her. How could you? A message like that wasn’t innocent. Not when it left a dull ache pounding in your chest every time her phone buzzed. That pain, the uncertainty, stuck with you. It hung in the back of your mind at work, bled into your daily routines, and stole your ability to focus on anything else. You stopped going to bed with her. Stopped sharing your dreams or your fears because you weren’t sure if she deserved them anymore.
The seeds of doubt had taken root, and no amount of reassurance could pull them out.
At work, you found no reprieve. If anything, your performance began to suffer. Tasks that once came easily felt impossible to focus on. Meetings dragged on, your mind wandering to the phone calls and late nights that awaited you at home.
And that’s when Agatha Harkness began to notice you.
You’d always admired her from a distance—the way she commanded attention in every room she entered, the sharp confidence in her stride, the cool authority in her voice. As the CEO of Harkness Industries, she was untouchable, her presence as formidable as the empire she’d built.
The sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor broke your spiral of thoughts.
“[Your Last Name],” Agatha said, her smooth, smoky voice cutting through the hum of the nearly empty office. You jumped slightly, not expecting her presence this late. Looking up, you saw her—impeccably dressed, her charcoal-gray suit tailored to fit her tall, sharp frame. Her silver jewelry gleamed in the pale fluorescent lighting. Her presence dominated the room, her piercing blue eyes narrowed on you.
“Is everything alright?” she asked, though the amusement in her tone betrayed her true intentions. Agatha didn’t ask questions unless she already knew the answers.
“Yes, Ms. Harkness,” you replied stiffly, quickly closing your laptop. “Just catching up on some work.”
She leaned against your desk, clearly not buying it. “You’ve been… off lately,” she said, her voice softening ever so slightly, though her usual smirk stayed in place. “If something’s wrong, you can always come to me, you know.”
You hesitated. There was something unnervingly genuine in her tone, but that wasn’t what threw you off. What unsettled you was the realization that her gaze wasn’t just observing you—it was studying you, drinking in every little tell, every weakness.
“Thanks, but it’s personal,” you muttered, reaching for your bag.
She raised an eyebrow, giving you an indulgent smile. “Personal, huh? Let me guess—relationship trouble?”
You froze, your hands stiffening on the strap of your bag. She tilted her head, and for a moment, her smirk softened into something like sympathy. But even then, her eyes glinted with a hunger you didn’t fully understand.
The question caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat. “What makes you say that?”
She shrugged, leaning against your desk with an air of casual confidence. “Call it intuition. But if there’s something you want to talk about…” She let the sentence trail off, her piercing blue eyes holding yours for a moment too long.
You shook your head, brushing her off with a polite smile. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
But Agatha wasn’t one to let things go so easily.
It started innocently enough. After that conversation, Agatha began to invite you out. Sometimes it was coffee before a morning meeting, other times drinks after hours in her office. At first, you felt awkward accepting her invitations. She was your boss, after all. But you were desperate for a distraction from the storm at home—and she always had a way of drawing you in, her words dripping with charisma.
She began offering casual advice or anecdotes from her life. Before you knew it, she wasn’t just a boss—she was a confidante.
You never meant to open up to her about Rio. It happened one particularly draining night when you were both finishing late meetings. Agatha poured you a drink, her glass already half-empty as she leaned back in her leather office chair.
“Darling, what’s eating at you?” she asked casually, swirling the whiskey in her glass. “You look… burdened.”
It was her words—so precise and unnervingly accurate—that broke something in you. “It’s my wife,” you admitted, staring into your glass. “I think she’s cheating on me.”
Agatha didn’t react immediately. She studied you, her expression unreadable. “Cheating?” she repeated, her tone deliberate. “Or do you know it for a fact?”
You hesitated, recounting the texts, the lies, the evasive behavior. Agatha nodded slowly, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “Sounds like you already know the truth,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re just afraid to admit it.”
Her words hit you harder than you expected. And though you tried to shake it off, Agatha had a way of making the impossible seem logical. She fed into your doubts, her every comment precise and calculated. “She doesn’t deserve you. Not if she could betray you like that.”
Weeks passed, and Agatha grew bolder. She started showing up by your desk during breaks, brushing her hand across yours under the guise of sharing paperwork. She leaned a little too close when she whispered in your ear during meetings, and her compliments shifted from professional to deeply personal.
One night, she invited you to her penthouse.
The space was breathtaking: high ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and an unobstructed view of the city skyline. You felt out of place amidst the luxury, but Agatha made you feel welcome. She poured you wine, teasing you gently about your stiff posture.
“Relax, darling,” she said, her voice low. “This isn’t work. Consider it a treat for all your hard efforts.”
You tried to keep your guard up, but the wine and her proximity eroded your resolve. She was magnetic, her every gesture deliberate and sensual. When she leaned in to brush a strand of hair from your face, you didn’t pull back.
“You know,” Agatha whispered, her lips so close to yours that her breath brushed against your skin, while swirling a glass of Merlot in her other hand, “someone who cheats isn’t worth your time.”
The comment was blunt, almost cruel. You stiffened, staring into your own wineglass. “She says she didn’t cheat,” you said quietly, though even you didn’t sound convinced. “She’s been trying to prove herself, but…”
Agatha clicked her tongue, setting down her glass. Her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “But she broke your trust,” she said firmly. “That’s not something you can just fix. Trust isn’t some toy you can glue back together once it’s shattered.”
Her words stung because they echoed the feelings you’d been trying to ignore. And yet, there was a strange comfort in her conviction—in the way she made everything sound so clear-cut when your own thoughts were muddied.
Weeks turned into months, and Agatha grew bolder. She started calling you “darling” in private. Her hand lingered on your lower back when she guided you into her office. She’d brush your hair out of your face under the pretense of being “helpful,” though the look in her eyes told a different story.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice. She was beautiful—undeniably so—with an effortless allure that seemed to cloak her every movement. And more than that, she understood you. Agatha didn’t sugarcoat things the way Rio did; she told you what you needed to hear, even if it wasn’t pretty.
The first time it happened, you blamed the wine.
You’d stayed late again in her penthouse. She’d convinced you to let her cook dinner—a surprisingly simple but delicious pasta dish that you ate together at her marble-topped kitchen island. The wine flowed freely, and by the time you were sitting beside her on the couch, your head was spinning.
“You deserve better, you know,” Agatha murmured, her voice low and intimate.
You turned to her, your heart pounding as you realized how close she’d leaned in. “Agatha—”
She cut you off with a kiss, her lips soft but insistent against yours. You froze, your mind racing with a thousand reasons why this was wrong. But when she cupped your face, her thumb brushing against your jaw, reason melted away.
The world seemed to pause in that moment, her lips soft but firm against yours, her hand cradling the back of your neck with possessive ease.
Her kiss deepened, her hand sliding into your hair as she guided you closer. It was overwhelming—the heat of her body against yours, the hunger in her touch, the way she seemed to pour all her intensity into that single act.
When you pulled back, breathless and dazed, she studied you with a small, satisfied smile. “Tell me to stop,” she whispered, her fingers still tangled in your hair.
You didn’t.
“You deserve to be worshipped,” she murmured, her voice husky. Guilt churned in your chest, but as she pulled you closer, kissing you again, it melted into a warmth you hadn’t felt in months.
The affair began in earnest after that night. Agatha was relentless, her touch searing and possessive every time you were alone together. She made you feel things you hadn’t felt in years—desire, adoration, worship.
You knew it was wrong. Every time you returned to Rio, guilt clawed at you, threatening to choke you. But you couldn’t stop. Agatha was a drug, and you were hopelessly addicted.
Her hands were everywhere, tracing the curves of your body as if memorizing every inch of you. Agatha consumed you in ways you hadn’t thought possible, her touch igniting a fire that left you breathless and desperate for more. Her hands were everywhere—pinning you against the cool walls of her penthouse with an intensity that bordered on possessive. Her lips left trails of fire on your skin, her teeth grazing your collarbone as she pulled moans from your throat. She made you feel wanted, consumed, and for the first time in months, alive.
She whispered things in your ear that made your heart race and your cheeks burn, things you’d never heard from Rio.
“You’re mine,” she murmured one night, her voice rough with need as she pinned you against the wall of her penthouse. “No one else gets to touch you like this. No one else deserves you.”
For weeks, you lived a double life.
But the guilt never went away.
“Agatha, I can’t keep doing this,” you said one night, pulling away from her lips with more effort than you thought you could muster. “I feel like I’m drowning in this lie.”
She tilted her head, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “Then come up for air,” she murmured, her voice dripping with reassurance. “You know what you need to do, darling.”
When you still hesitated, her tone sharpened ever so slightly. “She doesn’t love you—not really. If she did, she wouldn’t hurt you like this. She wouldn’t make you feel this… empty.”
Her words were surgical, cutting away your last shreds of resistance. Before you could stop yourself, you found solace in her arms again.
When you tried to end it a second time, Agatha didn’t take it lightly.
“You think you can just walk away?” she said, her voice eerily calm as she cornered you in her office after hours. “After everything?”
Her eyes burned into yours, her intensity both terrifying and magnetic. “I know you feel guilty, but what you have with me? It’s real. It’s worth the risk.”
She leaned in, her lips grazing your ear. “And you want it, don’t you?”
Your heart pounded as her words sank in. She was right. No matter how much you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t stay away.
Eventually, she began to push harder.
“You need to leave her,” Agatha said one night, lying beside you in bed. Her fingertips ghosted along your arm, her lips brushing against your shoulder as she spoke. “She doesn’t deserve you, and we both know it.”
“I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, your voice trembling.
She cupped your face, forcing you to meet her gaze. “Yes, you can. I’ll be here, darling. You don’t need her.”
Her words echoed in your head long after you left her apartment. The divorce papers sat on the kitchen table for weeks before you finally signed them. Rio cried when she found out.
“You’re making a mistake,” she pleaded, clutching your hands. “I didn’t cheat. I swear to you.”
But Agatha’s voice drowned hers out: “She’s lying. She’ll only hurt you again.”
After the divorce, your relationship with Agatha became official. The media marveled at her whirlwind romance with a “mystery employee,” and you found yourself thrust into the public eye —lavish dinners, expensive gifts, and a wedding straight out of a magazine spread. And yet, something felt… off.
Rio didn’t disappear. She called, sent emails, even showed up at your doorstep one day, begging you to listen.
“She’s manipulating you,” Rio said, her voice trembling with desperation. “She planned this. She’s dangerous, and you can’t see it because she’s in your head.”
You slammed the door in her face, brushing away the small seed of doubt her words planted. Agatha loved you—didn’t she? She couldn’t have orchestrated everything.
It was a rainy night when you found the folder. Agatha had left for a business meeting, and in a moment of idle curiosity, you opened the drawer of her desk. Photos of you—some from months ago, others dating back to years before you’d even started working for her. Copies of emails supposedly from Rio, doctored to look incriminating. 
Your stomach dropped as realization dawned.
She’d planned this. All of it. Agatha had orchestrated everything, from planting those damning messages to pulling you closer into her orbit.
“You’ve been busy,” Agatha’s voice startled you. She stood in the doorway of her home office, her eyes unreadable.
“How could you?” you demanded, clutching the folder. “You lied. You manipulated me. You destroyed my life—my marriage—all because you’re obsessed with me?”
Her expression didn’t falter. If anything, she looked amused. “I didn’t destroy your life,” she said calmly, stepping closer. “I saved you.”
“You ruined everything,” you spat, backing away.
She closed the distance between you in an instant, her hand grabbing your wrist in a vice grip. “I gave you everything,” she hissed, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Everything you have is because of me.”
Panic surged through you. “Agatha, you’re scaring me—”
She softened instantly, her hand loosening but not releasing you. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock tenderness. “You don’t need to be scared. I’d never hurt you.”
Her smile turned sharp. “But if you ever try to leave me, I can’t promise things won’t get… messy.”
Agatha’s grip on your wrist tightened, her nails digging into your skin just enough to make you wince. Her lips curled into a predatory smile, her eyes dark with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. “You think you can just walk away from me?” she purred, her voice low and dangerous. “After everything I’ve done for you? After everything I’ve given you?”
You tried to pull away, but she was stronger than she looked. Her other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against her body. You could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her blouse, the hard press of her breasts against yours. “Agatha, let me go,” you pleaded, your voice trembling.
She laughed, a low, throaty sound that made your stomach twist. “Oh, darling, you don’t really want me to let you go, do you?” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. “You’ve always been mine. You just needed a little… persuasion.”
Her hand slid down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing hard. You gasped, your body betraying you as a jolt of heat shot through you. “Stop,” you whispered, but your voice lacked conviction.
Agatha’s lips found yours, her kiss fierce and demanding. She didn’t ask for permission; she took what she wanted, her tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You moaned despite yourself, your body responding to her touch even as your mind screamed at you to push her away.
She broke the kiss, her breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine,” she growled, her hands moving to the buttons of your blouse. “Every inch of you belongs to me.”
You tried to protest, but she silenced you with another kiss, her fingers deftly undoing the buttons and pushing the fabric off your shoulders. Her hands roamed over your bare skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her lips trailing down your neck. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Her hands found your breasts, her thumbs brushing over your nipples, making them harden instantly. You gasped, your body arching into her touch. “Agatha,” you moaned, your resolve crumbling.
She smirked, her hands moving to the waistband of your skirt. “That’s it, darling,” she purred, pushing the fabric down your legs. “Let me take care of you.”
You stepped out of your skirt, your body trembling with anticipation. Agatha’s eyes raked over you, her gaze hungry and possessive. “Perfect,” she whispered, her hands sliding down your thighs. “You’re perfect.”
She dropped to her knees, her hands spreading your legs apart. You gasped as her tongue flicked against your clit, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “Agatha,” you moaned, your hands tangling in her hair.
She didn’t respond, her tongue working its magic as she devoured you. You could feel the heat building inside you, your body responding to her every touch. “Oh god,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against her mouth.
Agatha’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as she continued to pleasure you. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. “Come for me, darling,” she murmured, her voice muffled against your skin.
You cried out as the orgasm hit you, your body convulsing with pleasure. Agatha didn’t stop, her tongue lapping at you until you were trembling and weak. She stood up, a satisfied smirk on her lips. “That’s my girl,” she purred, pulling you into a kiss.
You could taste yourself on her lips, the taste of your own arousal on Agatha's lips sent a thrill through you, even as a small part of you recoiled at the intensity of the situation. But Agatha didn't give you time to overthink it. Her hands were on your body again, caressing and claiming every inch of skin as she backed you towards the bed.
You fell onto the plush comforter, Agatha's weight pinning you down a moment later. She straddled your hips, her eyes dark with lust as she looked down at you. "You're mine," she repeated, her voice rough with desire. "Say it."
Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and excitement warring within you. But as Agatha ground her hips against yours, you felt yourself giving in. "I'm yours," you breathed, your voice barely audible.
Agatha smiled, a wicked glint in her eye.
"Louder," she demanded, her hand wrapping around your throat. Not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make you feel owned, possessed.
"I'm yours," you repeated, louder this time.
"I'm yours, Agatha."
Her grip tightened for a brief moment before she released you, her hand trailing down your body to your breasts. She cupped them roughly, her thumbs brushing over your nipples. "Good girl," she purred, leaning down to take one into her mouth.
You arched into her touch, moaning as her tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. Her other hand moved between your legs, fingers teasing your still-sensitive clit. "You're so wet for me," she murmured against your skin. "So responsive."
She continued her ministrations, alternating between your breasts and your core. Your body was on fire, every touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. You were panting, writhing beneath her, desperate for more.
"Please," you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for. Agatha seemed to understand, though. She withdrew her hand, leaving you bereft for a moment before she shifted her hips.
You felt the head of her strap on press against your entrance, and you gasped.
Agatha was large, larger than anyone you'd been with before. She paused, giving you a moment to adjust. "Breathe," she instructed, her voice calm and soothing despite the hunger in her eyes.
You did as she said, taking a deep breath as she slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was intense, bordering on painful, but it wasn't long before your body relaxed, accommodating her size. She filled you completely, her hips pressed flush against yours.
"Fuck," Agatha groaned, her head falling forward. "You feel incredible."
She gave you a moment to adjust before she began to move. Slowly at first, her hips rolling against yours in a steady rhythm. But as your moans filled the room, she grew bolder, her thrusts becoming harder, faster.
Your hands clawed at her back, your nails digging into her skin as she pounded into you. The pleasure was overwhelming, every stroke of her cock sending shockwaves through your body. You could feel another orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
"Come for me," Agatha growled, her hips snapping against yours. "Come on my cock like the good little slut you are."
Her filthy words pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream, your body convulsing beneath hers. Agatha followed shortly after, watching you come undone was enough for her to find her own release.
She collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and sweat-slicked. For a moment, you lay there in silence, the only sound your ragged breaths filling the room.
But as the haze of pleasure began to dissipate, reality started to set in. Agatha had manipulated you, planned everything from the beginning. She had destroyed your marriage, ruined your life—all for her own twisted desires.
A lump formed in your throat, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Agatha must have sensed the change in you, because she pulled back, her gaze searching your face.
"Talk to me," she urged, her voice soft but insistent. "What's wrong?"
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You pushed at her chest, trying to make her release you. "Let me go," you whispered, your voice breaking.
Agatha's expression hardened. She didn't move, her body still pinning you to the bed. "No," she said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You're mine now. I won't let you go."
Panic surged through you. You struggled against her, your heart pounding in your chest. "Please," you begged, your voice rising in pitch. "I can't do this. I can't be with you."
Agatha's grip tightened on your wrists, her face inches from yours. "You don't have a choice," she hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. "You're mine, and I always get what I want."
You felt the tears spill over, running down your cheeks and into your hair. You were trapped—trapped by Agatha's obsession, trapped by your own weakness. You had let yourself fall for her manipulations, for the thrill of being wanted so desperately.
Now, there was no escape.
Weeks turned into months, and you fell deeper into Agatha's grasp.
She isolated you from everyone—your friends, your family. If anyone tried to contact you, she intercepted their calls, their messages. She told them you were busy, that you needed space to focus on your new life with her.
And you let her.
Because what choice did you have? Agatha had all the power. She controlled every aspect of your life—where you went, what you did, who you saw. And if you tried to resist, she punished you.
At first, the punishments were subtle—a sharp look, a harsh word. But as time passed, they grew more severe. She would leave you locked in a room for hours, ignoring your pleas and sobs. She would confiscate your phone, your laptop—anything that could connect you to the outside world.
Once, when you tried to sneak out to meet Rio, Agatha found out. She dragged you back home by your hair, slamming you against the wall hard enough to leave bruises.
"You belong to me," she snarled, her face inches from yours. "I won't let you leave me."
That was the day you knew there was no escape. Not really. You were trapped in this gilded cage, a prisoner to Agatha's twisted desires.
And still, part of you craved her touch, her attention. Even as she hurt you, she made you feel alive. She made you believe that everything she did was out of love—that she needed you as much as you needed her.
It was a sick, twisted cycle—one that left you feeling lost, broken, and hopelessly addicted to the woman who had shattered your life.
You knew then that you were trapped. Rio had tried to warn you, but it was too late. Agatha had you in her web, and there was no escaping now.
The city lights glittered below as you stared out the window of her penthouse, feeling more like a prisoner than a partner. Somewhere deep down, you resolved to find a way out. But one look at Agatha’s cold, calculating smile told you that escape would come at a cost you weren’t sure you could pay.
_-_-_
Please don't forger to vote, reblog, and comment.
Happy New Year my Twisted Darlings!
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sillymommy6969 · 3 days ago
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕭REAKIN’ DISHES
Sophia Laforteza x fem!reader
summary: everyone’s obsessed with how girlfriend material sophia is, but only for a certain member of katseye. for scientific research, eyekons have made a video of moments sophia naturally acts like the gentlewoman she is
warnings: touchy!sophia, protective!sophia, fluff
(chatgpted the tagalog guys im so sorry!)
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SOPHIA BEING THAT KINDA GIRLFRIEND FOR Y/N (FT. MEGAN ALWAYS CAUGHT AT THE SCENE)
17.2k likes | 330k views | 18th Dec, 24
*Loud technical difficulty transition* [ KATSEYE VLOG ] Day in the Life of KATSEYE | KATSEYE
Sophia was sporting a cool, black Drew jersey. The one you got her for her birthday after weeks of wanting it. Throughout the day, you’ve been growing tired of having the camera follow you around. Awoken by Megan and Sophia turning all the lights on in you, Daniela and Manon’s room, the blankets were yanked off your body and a kneeling Sophia tried nudging you awake.
Though Sophia’s soft voice motivated you to drag yourself out of bed, you already knew it was going to be a long day. Thank God for the breakfast the leader had made, or else you would never have been able to keep up with your PR training.
When dance rehearsal was over, your manager softly reminded all of you it was time to film tiktok’s for the Katseye instagram to promote the release of “Pop Star Academy: Katseye” on Netflix. Megan and Lara actually had a couple ideas to pitch this time around, but ultimately, the trend all seven of you seemed satisfied with was the water dumping on. Though you were staying on the more silent end of the discussion—your social battery draining rapidly with each moment your actions are streamed on video—you seemed to be voluntold.
[ Poor Y/N, she looks so tired… let my baby sleep please ]
“I think Y/N should do this one ‘cuz I’ve always wanted to dump water on her for fun,” Megan squealed, “Like I’ll do it to, but I definitely think Y/N should go first.”
You raised an eyebrow at the statement, your lips curving into a questioning smile. “Yeah, I mean… I don’t really mind it, but I wanted to do the ‘texting my sister’ one.”
The members began bickering which person should do which tiktok, and Sophia noticed you weren’t really engaged in the conversation. As the group discussed the pros and cons of hopping on certain tiktok trends, you remained silent, staring at the phone screens being shoved into the middle of the group. You nodded along with your lips pursed, uninterested in the brewing debate that was taking too long.
Eventually, Lara turned toward Y/N. "What do you think, Y/N? You’ve barely said anything. Would you be up for it?"
You hesitated, your head tilting in thought. "Um... I don’t know. I’m not really comfortable with getting soaked."
Manon frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Babe, you can do crazy ass splits and flips on a stage in front of hundreds and thousands of people, but you can’t get water chucked at you for a tiktok? What’s the difference?"
You opened your mouth to reply, but with the way your fingers had begun fidgeting with the hem of your tank, it was obvious to Sophia you were beginning to feel put on the spot. Before you could respond, Sophia interjected, her tone sharper than usual. "The difference is that it’s not the same. Y/N doesn’t owe anyone a tiktok performance, we can do another one."
Daniela being a mediator, stepped in to stop any conflict before people could take the situation out of context to fit certain narratives set during dream academy. "We’re just brainstorming, Sophia. No one’s forcing anyone."
"Good," Sophia shot back, her gaze unwavering. "Y/N can do one of the silly ones, no need to push."
[ She’s so protective of her gf it’s so AHHHHHHHHH ]
The room fell quiet for a moment, tension thick in the air. Y/N looked up at Sophia, her lips parting slightly in surprise.
"It’s fine," Y/N murmured softly. "I don’t mind doing it.”
[ She’s so cute protect her at all costs please ]
Sophia shook her head. "No, N/N, you don’t have to do it just ‘cuz eyekons want you to, okay? There’s tons of other ones we need to do, definitely no pressure."
Throughout the rest of the vlog, it was obvious Sophia had made it her mission to keep the others’—who had a significant amount more energy than you did—from walking all over you. They might not do it consciously, but the diverse personalities in this group can sometimes make things very chaotic and complicated. Sometime during the video’s dinner portion, the clip of Sophia’s hand resting on your thigh, holding you closer to her on the couch was cut into this video. The leader didn’t seem to notice, clearly actively involved in the conversations.
Megan, sitting beside you on the other side kept side-eyeing the hand on your thigh, shooting the camera a knowing look before trying to play it off like she hadn’t noticed.
[ Poor meiyok always caught third wheeling :// ]
*Loud technical difficulty transition* iheartradio Youtube video of KATSEYE’s podcast episode, where the Katz all sat around a table with the host at the head. Sat in order from eldest to youngest, you were sat between Sophia and Dani
“—That’s a very nice way to think about it, Y/N.” The host chuckled, earning a ring of soft laughter from the girls as well. Your cheeks were a little warm from the attention being pinned onto you, as the last couple questions seemed to be more directed towards you—one of the better singers who were also passionate about the songwriting.
“Yeah, it helps to stay positive, especially when we’re working late and health and morale can get really low.” you mumbled into the microphone, “But I love these girls, I try and make sure everybody’s doing okay as often as I can.”
The girls cooed, Daniela reaching over to rub the older’s shoulder with a dimpled smile. The cameras were separated into four angels, one on every two member and one on the host. The one focused on Y/N and Sophia filled the screen, Daniela’s hand peeking from the right side as the older sent her a smile. Sophia just stared, her eyes soft and her smile relaxed. Not the picture-perfect one she always sported for the cameras, and the subtle way her smile grew just a little bigger when Y/N looked down in fluster didn’t escape eyekons’ eyes.
[ THE WAY SOPHIA LOOKS AT HER OMG???? ]
“That’s amazing, the girls are lucky to have you.” The man said, “So here’s one more question, since ‘My Way’ has absolutely blown up recently, You were one of the writers credited for the song, and have gained multiple critic praises for the unique touch it added to your debut album. Can you tell us what inspired you to write the song?”
You nodded along with the question, and just as you were about to answer, soft fingertips came in contact with your temple, brushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear. There was a brief moment of silence for a second, before the girls began giggling at the abrupt pause.
“Y/N… you okay there?” Lara asked between chuckles.
“Yeah, babe, you’re looking a little red.” Daniela teased.
You caressed the strand of hair Sophia tucked back, your tongue darting across your lip as you tried steadying out your nervous breath. As the others laughed and joked about your reaction to the older woman’s habitual affection, you hid your face behind your hands. You could tell by the way heat flushed to your cheeks you were getting pink. Manon playfully shoved Sophia in the shoulder.
“Sorry, I wanted to fix Y/N’s hair.”
“Oh my God, Sophia, you broke Y/N,” the Ghanaian woman snorted, “Really did that your way, huh?”
“Mhm, stream ‘My Way’ on Soft is Strong, guys, so Sophia can keep doing things her way.” Megan added, the members humming and nodding in response to the not so subtle segway into promoting their album.
You were thankful the attention seemed to pull away from you. Running a hand through your hair and recollecting yourself.
[ THEY’RE SO CUTE IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH ]
“Anyway, Y/N, you good to answer the question—?”
*Loud technical difficulty transition* Daniela and Manon’s Weverse live started off in their own hotel room, but after some freakouts and close-faced segments to hide their rooms from the camera, they somehow found their way to you and Sophia’s, where the other girls were hanging about
“No, wait, please! There’s no wifi!” Daniela screamed, the phone filming from under her face as she ran across the halls to another room. She pounded her fist against the door, impatiently humming before she knocked harshly again. “Guys, open up, there’s no wifi out here!”
The door clicked open to reveal a very confused Lara, who glanced between Daniela and the phone. “Wha—?”
Daniela pushes past Lara to enter the room, and as she sets it down on the TV cabinet, Megan could be seen playing roblox with Yoonchae on one bed, the two of them focused on their own phones as they bickered about the game. You and Sophia were snuggled up on the other bed, her hand over the pillow behind your head with her hood up. You laid under her arm, your phone in your hands. You were wearing some really high shorts, a lacey top and some socks, so your instinctive reaction was immediately to adjust the way you were sitting before you accidentally flashed everybody.
Sophia eyed the Latina bursting into the room, immediately catching the familiar Weverse live setup on her phone screen. The first thing she did was set her phone down, moving the blanket from under the both of you to cover your legs up. Her expression was hard, focused on protecting your body first.
The clip was edited to zoom in on the two of you in the background the split moment you were seen before Daniela moved to cover the both of you up after catching the look Lara was shooting her to the side (not that y’all could see). Sophia’s face looked murderous though.
“Daniela, you’re gonna get us doxxed.” Sophia barked from behind, still shielded away from the cameras, “Did you just run down the hall with the camera on?”
The blonde shook her head, “No, no, I had the camera up close to my face like this.” She grabbed the phone, pulling it close to her nose before setting it back down. “Manon had an emergency call, so I had to leave the room, but I made sure they couldn’t see anything other than me.”
[ Dani definitely got yelled at by Sophia after this… ]
user01 am i crazy or was laforl/n cuddling in the back jn
user02 WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABT LAFORL/N
user03 The way they immediately moved apart like they were caught red handed
user04 dani just saw her life flash before her eyes
Eventually, everybody seemed to join in on the live. And even though Sophia was reserved at first, still sporting her grey hoodie and some basketball shorts, she came to sit behind Daniela and Megan who were on the floor. After changing into some sweats, you took a seat behind Megan, wrapping your arms around the girl as you rested your cheek atop her head.
Sophia’s hand instinctively found the small of your back, running up and down your spine as she argued with Lara about which Mik Mik about was better. You joined the conversation, telling Yoonchae and Megan the milk one was better than the chocolate before you and Megan began playfully fighting.
“Whatever, I don’t like you or your taste in Mik Mik.” Megan huffed, holding a hand up to your face.
“Is this because you think I’m ugly?” you bit back, pouting.
Sophia’s head immediately snapped towards you, her hand ceasing its comforting pattern along your back.
“Who said you were ugly?” Her head turning to the girls, narrowing her eyes. “Who made her say that about herself?”
Megan’s hands flew up in defence, but the immediate reaction gave Sophia the answer she needed before she hooked an arm around the younger’s neck, leaning down so her lips were just beside Megan’s ear to whisper, “Do you think she’s ugly, Skiendiel?”
The Indian woman shook her head, “No, ma’am.”
Sophia nodded, humming. Her arm noosed around Megan’s neck tighter. “So what do you have to say to Y/N, hm?”
user05 GYATT DAMN OKAY DADDY SOPHIA
user06 Y/N pop them legs open-
user07 WHAT THE FUCK SHES SO BF???
Megan grabbed your hands, looking deep into the older member’s eyes. “Y/N, baby, you are the most beautiful and precious being I have ever laid my eyes on and I’m sorry if, even for one second, made you think anything less, that is a hundred percent my fault and I am so deeply sorry.”
With a kiss to your forehead, Megan looks back at Sophia, who nodded with a satisfied hum. Her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw clenched. She slung her arm over your shoulder.
“That’s much better.” Sophia said, leaning to whisper in your ear, “Never ever, ever call yourself ugly, you understand?”
[ Love that she’s whispering like it’s just them ]
You nod, a hand over her shorts on her thigh. Her breath tickled the curve of your ear, the two of you sitting close and personal the whole live, which the eyekons ate up.
user08 nobody talk to me please
user09 sophia for being the responsible one you’re forgetting your pr training really hard rn
user10 Get me a woman who’d choke someone out if they called me ugly
user11 THEYRE SO GLARINGLY OBVIOUS WTF
*Loud technical difficulty transition* [ WEVERSE LIVE ] Sophia’s sitting on the floor of her room and asking eyekons how she should place stickers on her laptop
“I feel like the anchor should go next to the hibiscus (your charm) like this, y’know?” Sophia propped her laptop up, holding the stickers in place with her fingers before placing it down. Her face scrunched in thought, “I don’t know though, what do you guys think?”
[ She even wants their charms together hold my tea- ]
user01 yes laforty/n should be together in every universe
user02 Put the Katseye logo in the middle!!
user03 Doesn’t Y/N have your charm in her phone case
A knock sounded through the room before Sophia could answer any of the fans’ comments. Her head snapped towards the noise, seeing a translucent figure through the door. “Yeah? Who is it?”
“It’s me. Sophia, sweetie, I have a question.”
user04 SWEETIE IS CRAZY WORK
user05 the way i could recognize y/n’s voice is criminal
user06 Their PR team sweatin rn
Sophia got up to unlock her door quickly, sitting back down with her head turned towards Y/N. You were slightly onscreen, but not fully in view for everybody. You had on one of Lara’s tops, a pair of flare y2k jeans and a bandana wrapped around your hair. Even in the side, eyekons could see you twirling and spinning in place as Sophia’s eyes raked over your figure.
“Does this outfit look stupid? Megan said I should lose the bandana and wear sunnies, but I think this gives more of my vibe, y’know?” You said, smoothing out your shirt.
Sophia’s lips slowly curled into a smile, her eyes still darting up and down to take in your whole outfit. She especially liked the hoops you were wearing, the ones you and Daniela bought to match. God, she absolutely loved being your fashion critic. “I think you look hot,” she smirked, “Why don’t you ask eyekons.”
It was only then did you catch the phone sitting before her, the hearts and likes on live spiked immediately at your arrival.
“Sophia, I look so bad right now, you could’ve given me a warning!” You yelped, jumping out of frame in surprise. Sophia chuckled, looking back at her phone before turning back to you. She scootched closer, holding an arm out. “You never look bad, bebe. Don’t be shy, come say ‘hi’ to everybody.”
user07 I HEARD TAGALOG
user08 my filipino dad just asked if someone called me baby
user09 THE FILIPINA PET NAME IM CRYING
You walked into her open arm, letting her hand rest on the other side of your hip. You waved at the camera, smiling. “Sorry to interrupt, guys, I didn’t know Sophia was on live.”
“No, no, you didn’t interrupt,” Sophia immediately interrupted, “If anything, the eyekons were probably getting bored of me.” She pointed at the view count, as it rose from 13k to now a hefty 21k, everybody’s tuning in just ‘cuz you walked in.”
user10 quick to comfort her girlfriend i see
user11 Uhm nobody talking abt how fine y/n looks rn??
user12 i want laforty/n crumbs or i’ll starve
“Sounds like everybody likes the outfit,” Sophia snorted, instinctively fixing your jeans up higher so you wouldn’t flash anything you wouldn’t want to. “I’d say trust the eyekons’s sense of fashion more than Megan’s, ‘cuz between us, the girl gets mistaken for Adam Sandler way too often.”
You nodded, adjusting the bandana on your head.
“Completely agree. You guys are always glammed up and ready for a runway whenever we see you in person. There’s so many pretty eyekons out there, I can fill a book with the amount of compliments I don’t get to say at shows.” You scanned the comments, keeping a poker face as you glanced over the amount of Laforty/n comments. “Anyways, I should go. Manon and I are getting ready to leave.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow, silently asking you where the two of you were heading. You took a step offscreen to tell her you were going to pick up some booze for the girls. She nodded.
[ Sophia’s hand placement hello? ]
You waved to the camera, blowing the live a kiss before you got up to leave. “I’ll see you soon, eyekons. I love you!”
“I’ll miss you, bebe.” Sophia called after your disappearing figure, watching you close the door off camera. “Come back home on time for dinner, Yoonchae and I are making jjigae.”
[ #DOMESTICLAFORTY/N IS MY DRUG ]
*Loud technical difficulty transition* [ KATSEYE VLOG ] Yoonchae’s Graduation Party (KATZ EDITION) | KATSEYE
Daniela and Manon were quickly put in charge of decorations for the party they were throwing for Yoonchae’s high school graduation. While Megan was out distracting their maknae, the rest of Katseye buzzed on with their respective roles for the party. Lara was asked to help set up some partitions and strings for Manon and Daniela to hang things on. Leaving you and Sophia in charge of food.
“Y/N, can you hand me the chocolate chips?” the Filipina asked, focused on mixing up the dough in her bowl. She stuck a finger in, tasting some off the tip of her pinkie. “Hm, I think Yoonchae will want these a little sweeter, can you help me grab more sugar too, bebe?”
[ I looked it up guys ‘bebe’ literally means baby—SOPHIA LAFORTEZA CALLS Y/N L/N BABY IN TAGALOG ]
You hummed, moving around the kitchen to grab whatever the leader asked for. The editors of the video added some really cute lofi music to the two of you working cohesively, adding some adorable effects and cute captions here and there.
“Is it tasting okay?” you asked, your chin on her shoulder. She was taller so you peeked over her down at the bowl.
Sophia didn’t reply, instead, she grabbed the spoon to the side, taking a big scoop of cookie dough onto the spoon nicely. She didn’t move her body, finding comfort in the warmth of you against her. Her head turned, her hand raising to carefully stick the spoon into your mouth, her other hand held under your lips to catch whatever dough didn’t make it to your lips.
You moan softly at the sweet taste, eyes fluttering shut.
“Good then?” Sophia chuckled at the way you melted into her, “You’re eating more than you’re making.” She teased softly, glancing at you with a small smile.
You shrugged, “Quality control. You want some kimbap?”
She hummed in response. You returned to your kimbap, rolling the seaweed tightly and slicing it into neat rounds. A moment later, your concentration is cut and you held up one.
“Open up,” you said, fingers coming in contact with her lips gently as you set the food into her mouth.
She nodded, a hand up to her mouth to hide her chewing from the cameras. The editors added a sparkle effect to her eyes, as she eyed your growing smile. “It’s perfect,” she complimented, the tangy and salty taste lingering in her mouth.
“Does that mean I get more cookie dough?” you asked, feeling a bit bolder. You pouted, looking at her with hopeful eyes.
Her tilted her head. “We can’t eat all the food, it’s supposed to be more Yoonchae…” It took one look at your expression for her to immediately change her mind. “I’ll give you one more bite and that’s it until these are done, okay?”
You smiled, “Yes, ma’am.”
Once you had your second spoonful of dough, Manon and Daniela came in to check on the two of you. Upon spotting the bowl of dough Sophia was setting into small scoops on a tray, she gasped, immediately jogging over to hover over the leader.
“Sophia, can I have a bite, please? Pretty please!” she begged, bouncing on her feet, “That looks so good, oh my God.”
Sophia wagged a finger, focused on setting the dough down on the tray. “No, Dani, last time you wanted a bite you finished half the bowl. Nobody touches these until they’re done.”
The blonde whined, “Come on, just one… please?”
“You’ll get one when they’re done, Daniela Avanzini.”
You eyed the camera with a guilty smile, knowing you were the only one Sophia had trouble saying ‘no’ to.
[ Sophia has a soft spot for y/n… so real ]
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celestiamour · 1 day ago
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Can you do se-mi x dense fem reader? Like se-mi having to literally make it so obvious that she likes reader
ft. se-mi x f! reader — squid game
╰₊✧ dense! reader┊0.4k words
contains: headcanons
➤ author's note: another short one, i think all the ones with a type of reader will be like this tbh
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╰₊✧ i feel like se-mi is rather flirtatious by nature, and when she has feelings for someone, it’s pretty obvious as she’s experienced in making her intentions clear and confident in how to express them. once she has her sights set on someone, it’s nearly impossible for them to escape her when they find themselves blushing like madmen after a few words and they almost immediately agree to going out on a date with her. 
╰₊✧ yet here in the games where she meets you, she finds herself at her wit’s end trying to tell you that she wants to be more than allies or even friends. she’s out here sharing her food with you, resting her head on your shoulder, subtly slipping into conversations that she likes girls, even kissing you on the cheek at one point after you emerged from the second game alive, but you simply laugh and brush it off as platonic love, girl best friends being girl best friends. 
╰₊✧ to say she is perplexed is an understatement, but she’s never been one to back down from a challenge. if you reject her, then she’ll lay off, but you don’t even know that her intentions are romantic so it’s not over yet. 
╰₊✧ thanos makes fun of her sudden inability to pull but backs off when she reminds him she can and will pull all the other girls he has his eye on. he might spoil the truth for you at some point in the form of a rap, but you think he’s just being silly.
╰₊✧ asks min-su for an outside perspective. he’s quiet but very observant of his surroundings so he has likely picked up on something she hasn’t that could help her out. normally, she doesn’t mind waiting or playing the long game, but in this situation where life and death are uncertain, she would like for you to figure it out as soon as possible (besides, even if you all do go home, neither of you know where the other lives making it impossible to find each other).
╰₊✧ has to settle on kissing you on the lips and flat-out confessing to you after a close call of dying in the mingle games, only then do you realize her real feelings, and everything clicks (you might slap yourself later on when you piece them together the no-so subtle hints she was dropping).
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