#and clung to the people who I thought cared about me the people who were easiest to keep in my life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kouzih · 12 days ago

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Something stupid.

Nam-gyu ( Player 124 ) x gn!reader .ᐟ

warnings : swearing/insulting, semi-public sex(?) creampie, unprotected sex, smut obviously..uhh imo maybe more stuff

tags,, @gongyoosgf @cybrasigilism

requested by anon!! wc : 2.8k

( this could maybeee count as min-su x reader but imo..no proofread though)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ You try to comfort Min-su by holding his hands and caressing his palms. You had come to him because you noticed that he was stressed. The tremors in his body instantly disappear with the touch of your hands, your voice softly echoing in his ears as his eyes remain locked on your hands.

"Hey, it'll be fine."

Your grip relaxed him, his head shaking slightly as he looked up at you with shaky eyes. A tiny grunt of agreement comes from his lips. You could understand his nervousness, after all, many people died in every game here. You tried to be with him as much as you could during the games. You would drag him around by holding his hand, but ultimately you would make sure he was safe.

On the other hand...you would be lying if it didn't bother you that the others in the group were so obsessed with him. Before you could even approach him and ask him how he was, they would jump on him and surround him. Still, he tries to look after you as much as he can.

"H-hey, wait—" The man who introduced himself as 'Thanos' held Min-su’s hands and congratulated him on being unharmed, leaving you behind as Min-su tilted his head to look at you. "Hm?" As you turned your attention to his almost inaudible voice, a pair of hands began to wrap around your neck from behind, a lazy voice heard in your ears as a warm breath brushed against your shoulders. "Heyy, you made it." He was throwing you back and forth while his hands were caressing your shoulders, and before you could respond Min-su he had you turned towards him. His signature smirk was on his face as his hands moved to your shoulders sides, his eyes flicking to his friend before he leaves you alone.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding and walked over to Min-su, muttering in an annoyed voice as you tried to get the others away from him. "Yes, yes, we both made it, no big deal." The man, who clung to your grip as if his life depended on it, swallowed hard and looked at the others. Thanos looks at you in surprise but doesn’t say anything, while Nam-gyu looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh. While looking to the side with his teeth pressed into his lower lip, hands caressing his hair.

Being his typical self, you don't say anything, rolling your eyes and looking at the boy you're holding onto. His eyes were fixed on your hands and he looked like he had forgotten to blink. Feeling your gaze on him, Min-su looks at you with embarrassment and pulls his hands away, you hear a small whisper under his breath. "Ah- sorry.." You blink as you look at your hand that is still in the air. You hold on to him more than you should, you thought. "..It's fine?" As you walked towards your beds, Min-su was following you. You turned around and checked on him a couple times, he was busy with playing with his hands.

Nam-gyu was walking in front of you, his body facing you, mumbling things you didn’t care about while giving you a questioning look every time you turned around. "Hey. I'm right here." He pauses for a second to get your attention by shaking his hand. "I already know that." "Then why do I feel like you're not listening me?" Putting your hand under your chin and pretending to think, you spoke. "Maybe because I don't." He looked at you with a sour face, raising an eyebrow. "Bitch." You could tell his mood even from his tone of voice. You knew he didn’t really mean it, it was just his fantasy to say that to every person he came across. When you get to your beds, you start sitting on the metal steps, your eyes searching for Min-su, you tap your feet on the ground in a small rhythm.

Min-su sits down next to you with a small smile, closing his knees and pulling his hands together. While the others started chatting, you noticed Min-su was just looking at you without saying anything. He was looking at you with his head slightly tilted to the side and his eyes locked on you, as if he were dreaming. "So how's it going..?" Saying it suddenly, you distract him. He leans his body forward a little and mutters something under his breath. "Nothing much honestly..." "You know, you don't have to worry that much." "Hm?" He listens carefully to what you have to say, turning his face towards you. "I know this place is..well, not the best. But at least we get to..have fun." "Have fun??" There was a hint of concern in his voice, and the look on his face made you chuckle slightly. For a moment you felt like everyone was silent and listening to you, but you continued speaking.

"Well, I could do something stupid and nobody would care. Everyone is worried about getting out the next day safely."

A small hum is heard from Min-su, a sign that he agrees with you. But when you think about it... Min-su was acting braver towards you. If it was for others, he would have tried to go to bed or something, and would not have wanted to continue the conversation. And he seemed to enjoy being with you. Whenever you're with Se-mi, he would always follow you two around and try to give you answers whenever he could. Nam-gyu sucking his teeth behind you suddenly brings you out of your thoughts. Just as you thought, they started listening to you. With an irritated sigh, you turn your head to the side, only to see Nam-gyu is staring at you. Since he's sitting on the wrong side, his head is thrown back, hair is falling behind his ear, and his hands are supporting him at his sides.

"What?"

"Maybe think twice before you talk."

You stand up, looking at him with an embarrassed face. You could hear giggling behind you as you made your way to the bathroom. It wouldn't be a lie if you did it to avoid staying there. After a short while, when you have to go back, you bump into someone while opening the door. At first, you don't recognize who it is because of the sound of the collision, but when he speaks with that soft voice, you realize who it is. "..You're sure you're okay?" Chewing the inside of your cheek, you look at the guy in front of you. "Oh-yeah, yeah! I am..You didn't have to check on me." You take a step forward while rubbing your hands on your cardigan as if it hadn't dried yet. The man in front of you didn't say anything but you understood what he meant, this time he was next to you as you walked, instead of behind you. When you come back into the room you realize most of the players already went to bed. Did time go by that fast? There were still people standing, but most people had already taken their seats. You grab Min-su’s hand and lead him towards your bed.

When you two get to your beds, you realize Nam-gyu still isn’t asleep, in fact, he’s not even in his bed. He was sitting cross-legged, head resting on his shoulder, no conversation taking place between you as his eyes were on you. Min-su says goodnight to you in a small voice as he goes to bed. He jumps on the bed lightly and pulls the covers over himself, and making eye contact with you for a while. You sit on the edge of your own bed, smiling at him. Whispering back to him, you wait for him to sleep. The bed moving draws your attention to the back of the bed, where a figure is at the other end of the bed, supporting himself with one hand, looking at you from the side. "What is it this time Nam-gyu?" You say in a whispered voice, throwing your shoes under the bed to lean back against it, shaking your head slightly and pushing the hair out of your eyes. You sit in a position with your hands between your legs and wait for the answer of the man in front of you.

"Payback." He says simply as he plays with the ends of his hair. You look at him with a raised eyebrow, pulling your covers back as you try to simply ignore him. "I don't have anything on me, you know that." You say. "Whatever I have to pay for anyway.." You whisper the last part. Nam-gyu throws himself into the covers and lets out an unbothered sigh. "For saving your ass in games, asshole." Your attention shifts to the sleeping Min-su as he looks at you from under his eyes, and you swallow, folding your arms. "Stop playing around, yeah? I just wanna sleep right now. " He wraps one arm around your shoulder and the other rests on your lap, his touch landing in...not so innocent places.

The moment you grabbed his hand to pull it away, his gaze met yours. As if he was warning you. "Well, I could do something stupidddd..and nobody would careee.." He straightened his posture as he said it in a sarcastic tone. The sheets on you two was now thrown to the side. "Then I should give you something stupid to do, huh?" His whispering did not stop as his hand pointed lazily to the side, toward Min-su's side. "Because it doesn't look like he's going to do it." As you opened your mouth to speak, one hand went to cover your mouth, his voice quieter but more sincere. "You don't wanna wake him up, do you?" You gasped in surprise as your mouth closed. He pulled his hand away as his lips took its place, one hand moving to the back of your bed, shamelessly watching you squirm beneath him with your eyes open as he supported himself from where you were leaning.

You, who had your eyes closed tightly, began to loosely grip the sheets beneath you, your touch lazily moving to his hair as he let go of your hand. He parts from your lips as you hope no one hears you, his gaze drifting down as he guides your hand to cover your mouth. You did your best to cover your mouth as you breathed heavily with one eye closed, as your eye quickly shifted to the side you yelped to the cold sensation gripping your waist. You swallow at the sound of his whispering and try to fix your almost fallen position. "Shhh.." He had that stupid smile on his face. He grabs the hem of your sweatpants as his hands slide down. He could have sworn you were shaking as he shifted them to the side.

"You know how to talk back, but you are under me in such a needy state? Hah. You better keep it this way, you disgusting bitch."

A feeling filled you the moment you realized that his hands had lowered his sweatpants as well. Uh, oh. You glanced around to make sure no one was watching, but Nam-gyu reassured you. "I don't think they have the courage to look at all." He decided to use his hand, which was wet from covering your mouth earlier, to prepare you. "Even if they get a chance to look.. all they'll see is some bitch underneath me, dying to get me." Your knees began to wrap around his waist when you felt something cold and wet inside you, you could feel his breath on your ear as a positive grunt fell from his lips. He didn't even need to prepare you, actually. The way he spoke had already prepared you enough. Noticing this, he quickly pulled his finger out, letting out a 'pop' sound as something much wetter quickly took its place. The urge to look down was born inside you, the heavy breathing you were taking with difficulty could easily be heard by someone else when the hand covering your mouth slowly slid down.

"It must feel good to get what you asked. Yeah? You spoiled brat." You seemed to have swallowed your voice, so the things you wanted to say to him were only limited in your mind. "S-shut up.." You hissed under your breath, your mind going fuzzy from the insults he threw at you as you took his length inside you. For a moment you felt like your insides were being torn apart. After taking it all, a burden fell on your back as if there was a pulsating vein inside you. Nam-gyu's eyes darted to you and he said something that took you a moment to understand before he moved. "It's too bad you're so needy.."

His thrusts back and forth made you sob a bit, you felt your legs part to the side as a few tears escaped your eyes. "Fuck.." It felt stupid to even try to catch your breath. Each other’s soft, well his harsh and your soft voices filling your ears as you clung to his shoulders for support. He let his forehead fall onto your shoulder as his grip on you tightened, his hair sticking to your neck and his own face.

The only sounds you could hear coming out of his mouth were curses and a few grunts. After what feels like hours, your body is starting to feel a little too hot. You notice Nam-gyu is starting to get a little too quiet, too. "..Nam-gyu?" He doesn't give you an answer and you can feel him shiver for a moment. Once you realize what's going on, you quickly push him off his shoulder, your eyes widening momentarily. He stares at you with his eyebrows raised as you fix yourself and give him a sign to pull it out. You opened your mouth in an instant when you felt something warm inside you, and Nam-gyu pulled back with an irritated voice, at least you thought he did. Looking at you with the worst eyes you’ve ever seen, you realize.

He still doesn't take it all the way out, so the sticky feeling inside doesn't go away. You'll just feel less pressure. Nam-gyu pushes his hair back as a little of the liquid you’d rather not see spills out, his hand going to squeeze your ass as he lets out a relieved sigh. And you lie there, still unable to catch your breath. You hiccup as you feel movement inside you again, your eyes meeting with Nam-gyu's. As he continued to move as if it was none of your business, you felt the liquid inside you come out and then enter you with every movement. As if it wasn't enough to make you feel overwhelmed, the realization that he was finished once again caused the dried tears in your eyes to be replaced by new ones. The feeling of fullness inside you made you feel strange. Nam-gyu finally decides to pull out and lightens his touch with a small chuckle. Your breathing is still ragged as you shakily place your hands on your legs for support. The way the man fixes himself in front of you without any affect draws your attention, your eyes following his movements as the drool flowing from your mouth hits the bed. Swallowing heavily, you bring your hand up to your face to fix your hair.

"Dickhead.."

"Talking like you didn't just take my dick."

"W-whatever.."

As he brushed his hair back, the sweat on his forehead making his face explode in a way that was obvious. You reached out to pull the sheets that had been thrown on the sides to cover yourself and pick up the mess he had made.

Noticing this, Nam-gyu effortlessly throws the covers over you, letting it hit your face and fall onto your body, some kind of voice you can't figure out catches your attention. You had forgotten for a moment that Min-su and the others were asleep. The man who has already climbed into his own bed gives you a small wave and leaves you like that. Come on, he won't even help you to clean up? It was an expected behavior from him, anyway..

#nam gyu #nam-gyu #player 124 #squid game #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #nam gyu x reader #namgyu x reader #squid game smut #smut #imagines #ermmm okay soo #haha..yes..

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aliyahwritings · 2 months ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (10)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Supermodel!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.7k

Aliyah's Notes: another long chapter!!!! had a bit of an issue with this chapter. didn't know where to go, and how to finish it but i'm pretty satisfied with the ending... hope y'all will feel that way too #scared

You were going to throw up.

It was 6 in the morning, and your apartment was filled with a pre-party energy—Aisha fluttering around checking final details, making sure everything was perfect for you. But for you, the weight of the day felt unbearable. The engagement party was only a few hours away, and you were supposed to feel excited, but instead, all you could feel was anxiety.

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at your reflection as the fabric of your saree clung to your skin. It was a beautiful one—pale yellow with blue hues, simple, elegant. But as you looked at yourself, all you saw were flaws. Your stomach, the slight curve of your hips, your arms felt weird. Every inch of you felt exposed, like you were wearing your insecurities on display for the world to see. The saree that was supposed to make you feel confident now felt like a prison, the tightness around your chest suffocating you.

You tugged at the fabric, your fingers trembling as your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know, Aish,” you said, your voice faltering. “I just… I don’t think I can do this.”

Aisha, who had been running around your place, stopped and turned to you with a frown, concern written all over her face. “Y/N, you look perfect. Rafe is going to love it, I swear. You look incredible, seriously.”

But her words didn’t reach you. They never did. They didn’t fix the sinking feeling in your stomach, the pit that had been growing since you woke up. You didn’t feel incredible. You felt like a mess. Like a lie. You felt like you didn’t belong in this world of glitz and glamour, not when the weight of your own past was pressing down on you.

You turned back to the mirror, avoiding her gaze, and exhaled shakily. “It’s not about Rafe,” you said, barely above a whisper, as if the words were too heavy to say aloud. “It’s… it’s everything. Everyone.”

She didn’t speak at first, but you could hear her footsteps approach slowly, her presence gentle and calm as she stood beside you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re not here,” you murmured, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “My family—they haven’t been here. They don’t care.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and so did the tears running down your face. You quickly wiped them away, trying to maintain some sort of control, but it was useless. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave.

Aisah’s expression softened, and she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I know it’s tough, but you left for a reason. They treated you like an animal—you were nothing to them and look at you now. You have everything you want, you’re surrounded by people who love you, and you’re engaged to an amazing guy.”

“But you don’t get it,” your voice broke. “I haven’t spoken to them in years, Aisha. I haven’t heard from them since… you know… My Amma and Appa… they’ve never cared to fix what happened. And now they’re not here for this huge moment. They’re not here for me. And I just feel… I feel like none of this matters without them.”

You could feel the tightness in your chest grow, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Every time you thought about them—your parents, your siblings—it felt like the world was falling apart again. All the years of silence, the anger, the bitterness, the feeling of being abandoned… it was all still there, festering under the surface. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were always going to feel like the outsider, the one who wasn’t good enough for their love.

Aisha watched you quietly for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer. “Y/N, I know this isn’t easy. But this isn’t about your family. This is about you and the life you’re building. You’re so much more than your past, and tonight you get to shine. You’re not doing this for them. You’re doing it for you.”

You closed your eyes, letting her words sink in. You still feel the weight of it all, but as Aisha gave you one last reassuring look, you felt a small spark of resolve. Maybe you didn’t feel perfect. Maybe you never would. But tonight, you would step into this new chapter of your life, for you, and not for anyone else.

“You’re right,” you whispered, putting on a fake-ish smile. “Let me get over this. There’s too much to do today.”

The hours before the engagement party moved in a blur of preparations, but the nerves clung to you like an unwelcome guest. After Aisha helped you steady yourself, you dove into the checklist for the day, hoping to lose your anxieties in the bustle. Your hairdresser and makeup artist arrived promptly, transforming your apartment into a whirlwind of brushes, palettes, and fabric draping.

Despite the chaos, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone every few minutes, the screen lighting up teasingly with messages from Rafe. He’d been training all morning, but somehow still found the time to send you a steady stream of texts.

Rafe: Do you think this party will have snacks? Asking for a hungry basketball player.

You: There’s a buffet, Rafe. You’ll survive.

Rafe: Buffet doesn’t count. I want something good, like that thing you brought over the other day.

You: If you’re fishing for more biryani, the answer is no.

Rafe: Wow, first you take my penthouse, now you refuse me food? This marriage is starting off rocky.

You: This marriage hasn’t even started yet.

The exchange brought a smile to your lips despite yourself. He had this way of teasing that felt like a lifeline at the moment.

“Are you blushing?” Aisha teased from where she was meticulously laying out your jewelry.

“What? No,” you said, far too quickly. “Why would I even be blushing? You’re nuts… absolutely… absolutely nuts…”

“Oh my fucking God! You are!” she said with a grin, leaning in to glance at your phone. You pulled it away before she could peek at the screen, but the damage was done. “God, it’s so cute how he makes you smile like that.”

“You’re actually insane,” you mumbled, heat creeping up your neck.

She only laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Denial is a river in Egypt, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your lips from twitching into a small grin. Rafe sent another message.

Rafe: So, what are you wearing?

You hesitated for a moment before replying.

You: Why? Thinking of copying my outfit?

Rafe: Maybe. But only if it’s good.

You: It’s a saree. Pale yellow with blue embroidery.

Rafe: Does it have one of those drapey things?

You: Yes, Cameron. That’s literally what makes it a saree!!!

Rafe: Got it. Drapey thing = saree. Send me a picture.

You didn’t respond, setting your phone down and pretending to focus on your makeup.

“Your husband?” Aisha asked, noticing your sudden quiet.

“Future husband,” you corrected with a finger up. “And obviously.”

“What’d he say?”

“He wants a picture.”

“Send him one. He’ll probably lose his mind. And let’s be real—you could use the ego boost.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Aisha wasn’t wrong. The way Rafe looked at you sometimes—or even texted you—had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the room.

The hairdresser finished with your slicked half-up half-down hairstyle. Aisha brought over the jewelry: delicate gold bangles, matching earrings, and a necklace that felt heavy against your collarbones.

“Perfect,” Aisha said, stepping back to admire the finished look.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The saree hugged you gracefully, the embroidery catching the light with every movement. The makeup brought a glow to your skin, and the hair framed your face perfectly. For the first time all day, you felt... good.

Before you could overthink it, you picked up your phone and snapped a quick selfie—just enough to show the saree and the soft smile playing on your lips.

You: Fine. Here.

The reply came almost instantly.

Rafe: ...You’re killing me here.

Your heart skipped a beat at the simplicity of the words.

Rafe: Thank you brown people for existing, and making you. Rafe: Truly humanity owes them. Rafe: Forget the engagement party. Let’s just elope.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head.

You: Not happening. See you tonight.

His response made your stomach flutter in the strangest way.

Rafe: Can’t wait to become your fiancé, sweetheart.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the venue, its soft hum fading into the gentle buzz of the world outside. Through the tinted windows, you could see flashes of light—camera shutters capturing every moment like hunters seeking prey. The glow spilling from the venue, golden and inviting, felt overwhelming, almost oppressive. It danced off the grand arches of the villa, the soft flicker of string lights crisscrossing the courtyard casting a magical glow on the scene.

For a moment, you sat frozen, your fingers clutching the delicate fabric of your saree. It was meant to represent happiness, a tie to your heritage that should have brought you pride. But tonight, it felt more like a shackle, reminding you of the pieces of yourself you’d lost along the way.

“You okay?” Aisha’s voice came softly from beside you, laced with the familiar tone of concern that only she could carry so effortlessly. She looked radiant in her pale pink dress.

“Yeah… I… I’m fine,” you replied, the lie clumsy on your tongue.

Aisha raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but deciding to let it slide. The car door opened, and she stepped out first, her head held high as though she didn’t care about anything—and knowing Aisha, she probably really didn’t care. When she turned to offer you her hand, her expression softened—a silent gesture of reassurance. You took it hesitantly, forcing your legs to carry you out of the car.

The cool evening air brushed against your skin, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the heat in your chest. Cameras clicked relentlessly, their flashes a blinding assault as the whispers began to ripple through the crowd.

“She’s a bit late.”

“She looks beautiful.”

“Why didn’t Rafe escort her out?”

“What is she wearing?”

Each word clawed at you, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed image you wore like an armor. You kept your head down, focusing on the rhythmic click of your heels against the gravel path as you made your way toward the villa’s entrance. The towering structure loomed over you, its ivy-draped walls and ornate carvings reminiscent of a bygone era. The cascading floral arrangements, all in deep crimson and soft pink hues.

Everything added to the suffocating pressure weighing on your chest.

Inside, the air buzzed with laughter and conversation as guests began to fill the sprawling garden. Long tables stretched across the courtyard, their surfaces glimmering with candles and vases bursting with fresh blooms. Everything was picturesque, perfect. Yet, all you could feel was a rising sense of dread.

“I need a minute,” you whispered to Aisha, not waiting for her reply before walking rapidly inside the villa.

You navigated the winding hallways with purpose, your steps quick but unsteady. You needed to escape—to find a quiet corner where the world’s eyes couldn’t follow, where you could let the overwhelming storm inside you settle, even just for a moment. The getting-ready room—it was the perfect refuge, a place to breathe and gather yourself before you faced the crowd again.

But as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Rafe was there.

He leaned against the doorframe with an ease that felt infuriatingly effortless, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored white suit. The soft lighting played tricks with the lines of his face, his tousled hair looking as if it had been styled by the wind itself. The open collar of his shirt gave him an air of nonchalance that made him seem untouchable—except for the flicker of something warm in his eyes as he met your gaze.

“You planning to bolt already?” he teased, a crooked smile playing on his lips. His voice, low and smooth, carried the same blend of humor and arrogance that had always annoyed you.

You stopped, caught off guard. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Rafe pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step toward you. “Waiting for you,” he said, his gaze dragging deliberately over your saree. His smile deepened as his eyes met yours again. “You look beau—”

“Rafe, I can’t do this,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out before you could stop them.

The smile faded from his face, replaced by an expression of concern. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you said, your voice breaking. “The people, the cameras, the party—it’s all too much.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “You’ve done this a hundred times before,” he said softly. “What’s different now?”

You hesitated. “It’s not important,” you muttered, hoping he’d let it go.

But Rafe wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady but insistent. “Talk to me.”

You sighed, the lump in your throat growing heavier. “It’s stupid, okay? I’m just… I’m not used to this.”

“That’s not true.”

Your jaw tightened, and you looked away, your voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re not here.”

“Who?”

The question made you flinch, but you kept your response measured, your tone distant. “No one. It doesn’t matter.”

Rafe stepped closer, his presence grounding but not invasive. “It matters if it’s upsetting you.”

“It’s just… my family. We’re not close anymore, okay? And moments like this just remind me of that. But it’s fine. Whatever.”

His eyes softened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. The details of your fractured relationship with your parents, the abuse, the years of silence—it wasn’t something you wanted to unpack here, not with him. You hated being this exposed, hated feeling so small under the weight of it all.

Rafe’s expression shifted, the concern in his eyes deepening. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady but kind. “Look at me.”

“I can’t,” you shook your head, refusing. “You won’t understand.”

“Then help me,” he urged, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “Talk to me.”

The lump in your throat grew, the words threatening to choke you. “I left them,” you started. “But I had a reason. I couldn’t continue living there. We were poor, so poor, Rafe. Some days we were barely fed and barely had a roof over our heads,” your voice trembled, and you forced yourself to not close your eyes to not relieve that part of your life. “They forced me to se—” but you stopped yourself. Not ready to admit it to Rafe. “—whatever. I just don’t feel like I belong anywhere.”

His jaw tightened, his grip on your arm firming slightly. For a moment, he said nothing, his blue eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together the fractures you’d worked so hard to hide. Then, quietly, he spoke.

“You belong here,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “With me. Tonight, this party, all of it—it’s for us. And I don’t care who’s not here, because I’m here, okay? You worked hard to get where you are, and you can’t let your past, or anyone, ruin it for you.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of your doubt. Slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with a warmth that steadied you.

You walked back toward the door, Rafe’s hand lightly resting against your back, guiding you through the villa. As you stepped into the bustling courtyard, the noise of the party hit you again—the sound of laughter, the clinking of glasses, the faint hum of music. It was impossible to escape the energy, the pressure of eyes watching.

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself. Tonight wasn’t going to be easy, but you’d already survived the worst of it. With Rafe by your side, you could handle whatever came next.

The first person you spotted was Nina, her smile bright and easy as she chatted with a few guests by the drink station. She caught sight of you and waved, excusing herself from the conversation. Her dress—an elegant gold one—flattered her frame as she approached.

“You two disappeared for a while,” Nina said with a teasing glint in her eyes, though there was a hint of concern there, too. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, don’t worry. Everything’s perfect,” you waved your hands to not worry her. “By the way, Rafe, this is Nina Ramos—my agent and my second mother.”

He extended his hand with a charming grin. “Nice to meet you,” he said smoothly. “YN’s been telling me a lot about you.”

Liar.

Nina took his hand, her sharp eyes flicking between the two of you. “Has she now? All good I hope,” and you nodded instantly. “Well, this party is important and beautiful. Maybe all your overthinking served you well—you look absolutely perfect, honey. You too, Rafe.”

“Thanks,” you blushed at her compliment.

Rafe smirked. “She does look perfect, doesn’t she?”

You gave him a playful look, your lips curling into a reluctant smile at his compliment.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “But it was great meeting you, Rafe Cameron.”

“Likewise,” he replied, and with one last smile, Nina disappeared back into the crowd.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to Rafe with a small smile. “She’s a good friend of mine,” you said softly. “You’ll like her.”

Rafe gave you a raised eyebrow. “She seems cool. I can see why you’re friends.”

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter caught your attention, and you spotted Aisha, her arm linked with a tall, broad-shouldered man. Her husband, Ishan—someone you hadn’t seen in a while. You had to blink to fully register the change in him, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable.

Without thinking, you broke into a smile and made your way toward them, Rafe following behind.

As soon as Aisha spotted you, her face lit up with recognition. “Look who decided to surprise you,” she smiled, her voice higher because of how excited she was.

You immediately wrapped your arms around her husband, stepping into a hug. He chuckled, holding you tightly as he returned the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” you said, squeezing him as he laughed.

Ishan was like an older brother to you. He’d been there through some of the toughest times in your life, and his easy going nature always managed to bring you a sense of peace. His deep laugh and the familiarity of his embrace were exactly what you needed.

“I’ve missed you too, behen,” he said. “I come back to New York and I’m being told you’re getting married to Rafe Cameron. Imagine my surprise when Aisha told me.”

You pulled back from the embrace and laughed awkwardly. “Ah, yes, Rafe… Surprise, surprise, right?”

Ishan furrowed his brows but you moved your hands. “I can’t really believe it… It’s really happening…”

“No, no! It’s not like—uh, well, okay, it is, but it’s like…” you turned your head to find Rafe behind Aisha making a cross with his hands. “I love it. He’s so, so, so funny and charming—and very committed, you know…”

“Uh huh, I see,” Ishan nodded and laughed at how weird you were being. “Can’t believe he’s gonna marry a loser like y—”

“So, you’re actually here. It’s been too long—how’s Switzerland?” you interrupted, and he sent you a look because he hated when you did that. “Sorry… but how is it? Did you climb every mountain and, like, yodel on top of a glacier?”

He chuckled a little and shook his head. “No, no yodelling, but I did eat tons of chocolate. I bought some for you too.” You did not even have time to reply to him that he extended a hand toward Rafe, his tone both warm and challenging. “So, you’re the infamous Rafe Cameron. My wife gave me a run-down on you. Some good things… and some questionable ones.”

"Your wife? Wait, who’s your wife?" Rafe asked, his confusion evident.

Oh, crap. You totally forgot to explain the whole family tree situation. Rookie mistake.

Aisha sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she raised her hand. "I’m the wife, genius. Seriously, YN—did you not tell him?"

"I’m sorry!" You blurted, cringing. "It completely slipped my mind. It’s just so normal to me that I didn’t even think to—"

Rafe interrupted you, and took Ishan’s hand in his. His smirk disarming but his handshake firm. “Well, I hope the good outweighed the questionable.”

“Debatable,” Ishan replied with a shrug. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt… at least until you give me a reason not to.”

You felt a knot in your stomach as you glanced between the two. Ishan wasn’t being hostile, but his protectiveness had always been intense, like that of an older brother who wasn’t afraid to test the waters.

Rafe, to his credit, didn’t back down. His smirk deepened slightly, and he shrugged with an air of playful confidence. “Fair enough. I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

“I’d hope so,” Ishan said lightly, though the undertone was clear. His gaze softened as it flicked toward you, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got a good one here. Don’t mess it up.”

“Trust me, I know how lucky I am,” Rafe replied, glancing at you with an expression so sincere it caught you off guard.

The words made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for, a warmth spreading through you despite the nervous energy still bubbling beneath the surface.

Aisha rolled her eyes, slapping her husband’s chest. “Alright, alright, that’s enough intimidation for one night. Let’s get some drinks, baby.”

Ishan laughed, ruffling Aisha’s hair affectionately before turning to you. “If he gives you any trouble, you know where to find me, behen.”

You grinned at the familiar term of endearment, feeling a wave of gratitude for his presence. “Yup!”

With a wink, they both disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Rafe standing together.

The second they were out of earshot, Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. “So, is everyone in your life this protective, or is it just me getting the special treatment?”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “What can I say? People care about me. Better get used to it.”

“Noted,” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll add it to the ever-growing list of things to keep in mind when dealing with your very... passionate circle of people.”

An awkward silence stretched between us as you scanned the guests arriving. You recognized a few—Aisha’s mom, aunts, and cousins, mingling with Nina’s friends and siblings. You couldn't help but wonder if your wedding would be filled with people who didn’t really know you either.

Rafe stepped closer, standing next to you, and flashed a playful grin. "So, Ishan… he’s your… older brother, right?" He asked, clearly trying to figure out the family dynamic.

You turned to him with a soft laugh, shaking my head. "No, not my brother," you said, before pausing for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Okay, let me explain." You drew in a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "Ishan’s more like the brother I never had—well, I do have brothers, but when I left home, I hadn’t really connected with them. But then I came to the U.S. and met Aisha, and Ishan just sort of stepped into that role. We’ve been through everything together—good, bad, you name it. He’s always had my back. No blood relation, but he might as well be."

Rafe’s expression softened as he absorbed that, nodding. “Sounds like he’s a pretty solid guy.”

“He really is,” you smiled, warmth creeping into your voice. “He and Aisha have always had my back, and they’ve been together for years now. They make a great team.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he said, grinning. “He’s got that same intimidating vibe as she does. You can practically feel it.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Exactly! Aisha and I used to joke about it. She always said, if I needed someone to scare off a date, I’d just call Ishan. Aisha’s got that sharp edge, and Ishan? He’s got the muscles.”

“I can definitely see that…” he said with a thoughtful nod before asking, “So, what kind of dynamic do you think we have?”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze for a moment as the question hung in the air. “Uh, well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean, we’re… we’re like, uh, a work in progress? Yeah, that sounds right. Like one of those ‘under construction’ signs, you know? A little chaotic…?” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Chaotic? Really? You’re gonna call us chaotic?”

“Yeah, well, have you met you?” You shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re like a walking disaster zone.”

He laughed, leaning back. “Oh, I’m a disaster? You’re the one who keeps on throwing shade. For no reason at all.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to mind your own business,” you snapped, the words biting as you shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re the one getting all up in my space with your weird questions.”

“I’m not asking weird questions,” he shot back, his voice rising to match the sharpness of yours. “And do you seriously think we’re chaotic?”

You gave him a side-eye, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Chaotic is an understatement, Cameron. We’re a disaster—with a capital D.”

He laughed, the sound low and amused, as though he didn’t take you seriously. “Oh really? You’re one to talk. You practically live for the drama.”

“Me? I live for drama?” You scoffed, pivoting fully to face him now, hands planted firmly on your hips as you let your eyes travel up and down him in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. “You’re the definition of drama. You can’t even breathe without making everything about you.”

His lips curled into a grin, the kind that made your stomach twist in a way you refused to acknowledge. “You’re so easy to rile up.”

“You’re a jackass,” you muttered, shaking your head, every fiber of your being wanting to push him away—but not sure if you meant physically or emotionally.

He leaned in slightly, as if to throw another jibe your way, but instead, his eyes gleamed with mischief. “I think you’re just mad because I’m better at this than you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you closed the distance between you, but the move was more impulsive than you intended. You instantly regretted it, realizing just how close you were to him now, the heat from his body practically radiating against yours. You swallowed, trying to mask the effect it had on you. “Better at what? Being a complete asshole?” Your voice wavered with a sharpness that betrayed how much it bothered you. “Yeah, Rafe, you’re a pro at that.”

He leaned in even closer, and this time, his grin wasn’t just playful—it was dangerous. “You love it,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave, making your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you rolled your eyes, trying to keep control of the situation. “Oh, fuck off. The only thing I like is when you finally shut up.” You crossed your arms tighter, trying to distance yourself emotionally, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you two, the tension hanging thick in the air.

He was close now, too close, and it was suffocating in the most unsettling way. His breath was warm against your skin, the space between you closing so much that you could almost taste the words on his lips before they even came.

“Is that so?” His voice was low, teasing, his grin widening as his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there just long enough to make you feel it.

You couldn’t help it—you gulped, the way he was looking at you making your pulse race, something deep inside you stirring against the cold front you were trying so hard to put up. “Yeah, that so,” you managed, but your voice had a tremor to it now, and you hated yourself for it.

He smiled, the kind of smile that could make you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “Well, in that case,” he said, the words dragging as he leaned even closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, “I’m just gonna keep talking.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to send a shiver down your spine.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream at him or kiss him.

You could feel his presence pressing in on you, the heat between you two almost unbearable, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. The world outside of him seemed to vanish, the hum of the city, the weight of your thoughts, everything melting away until there was only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You knew you should pull away, should say something, anything, to break this tension, but the words wouldn’t come.

He watched you closely, his eyes locked onto yours, a hint of something unreadable flickering there—something playful, something dangerous, maybe both.

“You look like you’re about to say something,” he said, his voice thick with amusement.

You opened your mouth, trying to push past the lump in your throat, but it felt like the words were stuck. Instead, you just looked at him—really looked at him for the first time in what felt like forever. He was close, too close, but in that moment, it felt impossible to back away. He made you feel things you didn’t want to feel, things that you didn’t understand.

“I don’t wanna say anything,” you muttered, the words slipping out as a mix of frustration and something you refused to acknowledge.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, that devilish smirk curling on his lips.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but you didn’t say a word. You simply nodded, lips pressed together in a thin line, trying to hold onto some semblance of control.

He closed the gap between you, leaning in with deliberate slowness. You could feel the heat of his body inching closer, the soft scent of his cologne filling your senses, until his lips barely brushed against your cheek. The kiss was featherlight, teasing—infuriatingly so. It was enough to make your stomach twist with desire, but you refused to let it show. You wanted to press your thighs together, to feel that familiar ache between your legs, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was affecting you.

“Well, I have something to say,” his voice was low, rich with satisfaction as he lingered just inches from your skin. “I think… You’re not as immune to me as you like to pretend.”

The words sent a jolt through your chest, but you shook your head, pulling your hands up to his chest, your fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt, then gliding slowly to his neck, tracing the line of his jaw before resting at the back of it. You felt his pulse under your fingertips, and your breath hitched.

“I don’t… I don’t pretend,” you said, your voice quieter, but the frustration bubbling underneath was unmistakable. “You’re just an idiot,” you continued, pressing your palms harder into his skin. “And so fucking frustrating.”

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Look at you.” His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. “You’re getting all worked up. You want this, don’t you? I can see it. You’re practically begging me to fuck you right now with those eyes. Is that what you want, baby?”

Every nerve in your body screamed yes. You could feel your pulse racing, your skin burning as his words settled deep inside you. The ache between your legs was undeniable now, but your mind fought back. Your heart was pounding in your ears, screaming no. You couldn't let yourself fall for this again. You remembered the last time—the cold distance after everything had gotten too real, the way he’d pulled away, leaving you shattered. You couldn’t be left like that again.

But then, the look on his face—those sharp eyes, glimmering with something dangerous. He looked so good, so fucking good, in that white suit that fit him like a second skin. The way it molded to his chest, the tightness around his biceps, made your breath catch in your throat. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him, feel the strength of his muscles under your fingers, wanted to bite at his neck, press your lips to the smooth skin there and feel him shudder beneath you.

God, it was maddening. You hated how he made you feel so out of control, how every inch of him seemed to draw you in. Your body was betraying you, and you hated it.

But what about him? Did he feel the same pull? Did he burn for you the way you did for him, or was this just another game for him to play, another conquest to add to his long list? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

Rafe’s eyes never left you as you fought to suppress the desire stirring within you. But he knew it. He could see it in the way your breath hitched, in the way you couldn’t stop your hands from brushing against him, testing the limits, even as you pretended to resist.

But something shifted in him. He straightened, his posture changing, the smug grin slipping ever so slightly as his gaze flickered to the entrance of the party.

It wasn’t just any glance—it was sharp, instinctive. He’d caught sight of someone familiar, someone whose presence immediately shifted the air in the room.

You followed his line of sight, your chest tightening as you noticed who it was: The Cameron family. Sarah, Wheezie, Rose, and Ward. Their arrival had a different weight, one that Rafe clearly felt deep in his bones. You saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened for just a moment, before he quickly masked it with a flash of that signature cocky smile.

Ward, tall and imposing in his crisp suit, moved with the sort of authority that always seemed to follow him. Rose, on his arm, was more subdued but equally elegant, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the crowd, clearly scanning for something or someone. Their eyes met Rafe’s across the room, and the tension in his body was palpable.

His hand, which had been resting lightly at your waist, now tightened, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress in a way that made you wonder if he even noticed. But you noticed him. You noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he suddenly seemed aware of every movement, every gesture, every word spoken around him.

He cleared his throat, stepping back slightly from you, though his body remained rigid, still keeping you close. “I think my parents just walked in,” he said quietly, as though speaking more to himself than to you, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.

You looked at him, the reality of the situation settling in. His family—his father, especially—was here, and suddenly everything felt different. The air seemed heavier. The playful banter between you both had shifted into something more guarded, more calculated.

“Yeah, I noticed,” you whispered.

Rafe took a slow breath, his eyes never leaving his parents as they moved further into the room, exchanging greetings with guests. He didn’t speak immediately, as if preparing himself for whatever role he was about to play in front of them. His jaw clenched again, but he quickly forced a smile back onto his face, turning to you.

“Let’s go say hello, yeah?” His voice was smoother now, though you could still sense the unease beneath the surface. It was almost like he was pulling back, retreating into the version of himself he showed them—controlled, perfect, everything his father demanded of him. “Is that okay with you?”

No.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his tension on your shoulders, but you followed him. The closer you got to his family, the more you could feel the pressure build. Rafe's movements were more deliberate now, like he was preparing to play his part in the family drama. You couldn’t help but notice how differently he held himself around them—like a man who knew he would never measure up, no matter how much he tried.

Rafe paused just before reaching them, throwing you a look that was both apologetic and protective. It was as if, for just a moment, he needed you to understand how much this moment mattered. But you weren’t sure if it was about impressing them or surviving the encounter with his family’s expectations. Whatever it was, you could feel it thick in the air, something unspoken but undeniable.

Rafe’s steps slowed as you reached his father, Ward. He was a towering figure, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his presence seemingly taking over the entire space. Rose, his stepmother, stood slightly behind him, elegant and poised, her eyes a sharp contrast to Ward’s cool and calculating demeanor.

Rafe stopped just short of them, his hand still on your waist, but his stance had subtly shifted—he was guarded, unsure, like he was ready to retreat if the need arose.

“Dad,” Rafe greeted, his voice smooth but lacking its usual confidence. His posture was just a little too stiff, as if waiting for the inevitable judgment that would come with every interaction.

Ward's gaze lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than normal before he acknowledged him, his tone clipped. “Rafe,” he said, the smile on his face barely noticeable, more a polite curve of the lips than anything genuine. “You’re looking well.”

The words hung in the air, but they didn’t carry any warmth. It was a statement of fact rather than praise, and it made your skin prickle. You could feel Rafe tense beside you, his fingers tightening just a little, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he gave a small, practiced smile and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

You remained silent for a moment, unsure of where to fit in, but Sarah, ever the warm presence, was the first to step forward. She flashed you a grin, her eyes already lighting up with recognition. “Hey, YN!” she said enthusiastically, her voice a welcome contrast to the tension in the air. "So good to see you again!"

"Hi, Sarah," you responded, your smile easing a little, feeling comforted by her energy. "It’s good to see you too."

She pulled you into a friendly hug, and you found yourself relaxing into it. Sarah had this easygoing charm about her, a lightness that made you forget the weight of the room for a moment. She was everything Rafe wasn’t—effortlessly kind, bubbly, and generous with her affection.

“Wheezie and I were just talking about you,” Sarah added, and you turned to find a petite, younger girl standing a few feet away.

Wheezie’s face lit up when she caught your gaze. “Hi. I’m Wheezie. It’s cool to meet you.”

You smiled at her. “Hi, Wheezie. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly nervous. “You’re a model, right? That’s so cool. I’ve seen your pictures in Vogue!”

You blinked in surprise, warmth spreading in your chest. “You have?”

“Yeah!” Wheezie nodded enthusiastically. “You’re so pretty, and your outfits are amazing. How did you even start doing that?”

Her genuine curiosity was disarming, and for a moment, you forgot the tension hanging in the air. You leaned slightly closer, your smile becoming more natural. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you sometime if you want.”

Wheezie’s face lit up. “Really? That’d be awesome.”

Rafe, who had been watching the interaction silently, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with amusement. “Wheezie, you’re gonna scare her off.”

Wheezie flushed, but she grinned up at her brother. “I’m just being friendly.”

“She’s fine,” you said quickly, shooting Wheezie a reassuring smile. “It’s nice to meet someone who’s actually interested in what I do.”

Rose cleared her throat, interrupting the light moment. “Oh, we’re interested in you, dear,” she said, her tone honeyed but with an edge of condescension. “Rafe’s been so secretive about you, it’s about time we got to know you better.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologized with a polite smile. “I’m here now, though.”

“Yes, you are,” Ward interjected, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Rafe mentioned your career. It must be… demanding.”

You nodded carefully. “It can be, but I enjoy it. I’ve worked hard to get where I am.”

Ward tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “And maintaining that image must be just as hard. I imagine you have to watch every calorie to stay in shape for your work. Must be exhausting.”

The words hit you like a sharp slap, your chest tightening as old insecurities clawed their way to the surface. You forced a neutral smile, but your nails dug into the palm of your hand to keep steady. “It’s part of the job,” you replied carefully, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

Rose waved a dismissive hand, her eyes flitting over you in a way that felt equally invasive. “Don’t listen to him, honey. You look perfectly healthy to me. Honestly, I’d kill to have your body.”

Her words were meant as a compliment, but they were worse than his. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice quieter now.

Rafe stiffened beside you, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his tone firm, a warning laced beneath the words.

But Ward ignored him, his attention still on you. “We’re not saying anything wrong. She does look healthy… in a sickly way.” His smile was thin, and though the words were spoken lightly, there was an edge to them.

You forced another smile, but your composure was slipping. The weight of their attention, the veiled comments, the subtle dissection of your body—it was too much.

“I’m sorry,” you said abruptly, stepping back slightly. “Excuse me for a moment.”

The moment you stepped into the bathroom, the world outside seemed to dissolve. The faint hum of voices from the gathering became muffled as you locked the door and leaned against it, your chest heaving. You clutched your stomach, the ache inside more emotional than physical, as Ward’s and Rose’s comments echoed in your mind.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back, unkind and unforgiving. You pressed your trembling hands against the sink, breathing shallowly as the familiar sensation of panic crept up your throat.

No matter how far you thought you’d come, it was always there — lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of vulnerability. Your stomach churned violently, the pressure too much. You barely made it to the toilet before the wave overtook you.

Kneeling on the cold tile, you hated yourself for this relapse. Your body trembled as tears stung your eyes, the shame wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. You knew better. Yet here you were, undone by a handful of careless words.

The door suddenly creaked open. Panic seized you as you tried to compose yourself, but it was too late.

“YN?” Rafe’s voice was low and tentative, laced with worry. He must’ve picked the lock.

You froze, your back to him, trying to will him away. “Go away, Rafe.”

He didn’t. Instead, he stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

You heard the scuff of his shoes as he approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Just leave me alone.”

But then he was kneeling beside you, his presence warm and steady despite the storm raging inside you. His hand gently touched your back, and you flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m here,” he said simply, his tone quiet but firm. He reached out, gathering your hair and pulling it away from your face with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me help.”

The knot in your throat tightened, and a sob escaped before you could stop it. You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head. “I’m so pathetic,” you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I promised myself I’d never do this again. I’ve tried so hard to move on, to be better. But it’s always there. It’s always waiting for me to fail.”

He paused, his hand stilling for a moment before he spoke. “You’re not failing,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re human. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still standing. That’s not failing, YN. That’s surviving.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you finally turned to look at him. His blue eyes were fixed on you, full of a mix of anger and concern—not at you, but for you. He reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek with a gentleness that nearly broke you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

You hesitated, your walls instinctively rising. But something about the way he looked at you—without judgment, without pity—made you feel safe enough to let them down.

“It’s… it’s complicated,” you began, your voice shaky. “I’ve struggled with this for a long time. Since I was a teenager. Modeling didn’t cause it, but it made it worse. Everyone always has something to say about my body—it’s too thin, it’s too big, it’s never enough.” you swallowed hard, your throat burning. “And tonight… your dad, Rose… they just hit a nerve.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and you could see the anger flickering in his eyes. But he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I was past it,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “But it never really goes away. It just… quiets down. Until something like this happens.”

Rafe nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I get it,” he said, surprising you. “Not in the same way, but I get it. The pressure, the expectations. Feeling like no matter what you do, it’s never enough.”

You stared at him, the rawness in his voice catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry for that,” you whispered, fresh tears spilling over. “And for what you saw.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rafe said firmly, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and the sobs came harder now, wracking your body. Rafe didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “I’ve got you. I promise.”

After what felt like an eternity, your tears began to subside. You pulled back slightly, embarrassed by the mess you’d made of his shirt. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your face.

Rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. This shirt was ugly anyway.”

The small attempt at humor made you smile, even if it was faint. He stood, helping you to your feet, his hand steadying you as you wavered.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze searching for yours.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure. “I just… need a minute. Is that okay?”

Rafe hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave you alone. But after a moment, he nodded. “Alright… Take all the time you need. I’ll be right outside.”

As he stepped toward the door, you felt a pang of guilt. “Rafe?”

He turned back, his expression softening.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “For… this.”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“Are you serious right now?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, cutting through the murmur of conversation like a knife. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Rafe—” Ward started, but his son didn’t let him finish.

“No, you listen to me,” he snapped, his anger palpable. “If you ever talk to her like that, we’re done. I mean it.”

Your heart stopped, and you moved closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“Rafe, calm down,” Rose’s voice said, her tone exasperated.

“No,” Rafe snapped. “I’m not calming down. Do you have any idea what you just did? What your comments did to her?”

There was a beat of silence before Ward spoke, his tone dismissive. “It was just a harmless observation. She’s a grown woman. She can handle it.”

“Harmless?” Rafe’s voice rose, trembling with fury. “You don’t know the first thing about her, and you sure as hell don’t get to say shit like that to her ever again.”

“Rafe—”

“No,” he cut Ward off, his voice firm and unyielding. “You don’t get to do this. Not to her. If you can’t show her some respect for once in your life, then don’t bother talking to her at all.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Your chest tightened, a swell of emotions rising as you listened to him defend you with such ferocity. For all his cocky bravado and sarcastic quips, Rafe had just shown you a side of himself you hadn’t expected.

A side that cared.

A side that would fight for you.

You stepped back, went back to the bathroom, giving him space to finish the conversation. But as you stood there, a small, genuine smile broke across your face.

When Rafe returned to the bathroom, his shoulders were tense, but his eyes softened when they landed on you. “Hey,” he said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry if I took too long,” he said, sitting beside you on the floor. “I had to take care of some—.”

“I heard you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me?” his brows furrowed. “Heard what?”

“What you said. To them. Ward and Rose.”

“Oh…” his eyes widened. “I’m sorry if you think I stepped a line. It just really pissed me off what they said about you and thought that if you were going to see them again, they should know their li—”

“You don’t need to apologize, Cameron,” you interrupted, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips, the sound easing the tension in his shoulders. “Thank you, though…”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside the room fell away. “Of course.”

He stood and extended a hand to you, palm open and steady. You hesitated for the briefest moment, not because you didn’t want to take it but because the gesture felt like more than it was. When your hand slipped into his, his fingers closed around yours.

You stood, brushing invisible creases from your saree and adjusting the edges with nervous precision. Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, watching the delicate way your fingers moved, the subtle rise and fall of your shoulders as you steadied yourself.

When you glanced up at him, offering a soft, grateful smile, something in his chest tightened, and he knew he was done for.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you said, your voice stronger now.

He nodded, but as you turned toward the door, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, even if you wouldn’t hear it. “You’re worth it,” he whispered, the words low and raw, like they’d been pulled straight from his heart.

He stood there, hand still tingling from where yours had been, a storm of emotions churning inside him. His mind raced, his heart pounded, and every inch of him felt consumed by something he wasn’t ready to name.

chapter eleven.

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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago

Note

not a smut fic! (unless you want, but i was thinking more emphasis on the emotional rather than the physical) but maybe like

request for hotch x reader who has had past bad sex experiences in relationships? like maybe it hurt or her previous partner didn't care about her pleasure/comfort? so when she finally has her first time with hotch, she's out of her depth because she's used to being the 'giving' partner but getting nothing in return whereas now she's being treated well and she feels almost guilty because she feels like he's focusing too much on her (even if thats not true).

Untangling the Past

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader||Word Count: 3k

Tags/Warnings: intimate scenes, fade-to-black smut, sexual themes, reader with past intimacy issues, soft!Hotch

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner never imagined how deeply you would reshape his world, how your quiet strength and guarded heart would challenge his understanding of love. As he unravels the layers of your past, mending the wounds left by neglect, he offers you the safety of his steady care. Together, you navigate a delicate dance of trust and tenderness, building something unbreakable, one vulnerable moment at a time.

Aaron Hotchner had never considered himself particularly adept at navigating the intricacies of new relationships. He was a man of structure and logic—a sharp mind honed to profile criminals and anticipate the unpredictable. But when it came to you, his structured world softened.

The first time he realized you were different wasn’t in the heat of a high-stakes case or during one of the late-night debriefs that bled into the early morning. It was in the quiet moments—a shared coffee break, an unguarded laugh. It was in the way you looked at him, equal parts guarded and curious.

When you started seeing each other, Aaron approached it with a mix of careful deliberation and unshakable determination. He knew the risks of two people in the BAU becoming involved, but he also knew that what he felt for you wasn’t something he could easily set aside. You, with your quick wit and quiet strength, had carved a space in his life that he hadn’t realized he needed filled.

The first time you were intimate, Aaron noticed your hesitation immediately. He wasn’t profiling you, not consciously, but years of observation had made him attuned to subtle shifts in body language and tone. You were nervous, but it was more than that. When he kissed you, your hands clung to him as if you were afraid to ask for more. When he touched you, there was a tension in your body that told him this wasn’t just first-time nerves.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles against your skin.

You nodded quickly, your voice a little too bright as you said, "Yeah, I’m fine."

He didn’t press, not yet. Instead, he kissed you again, slower this time, giving you space to respond. Aaron was a patient man. He’d waited years to let himself feel this way again, and he could wait as long as you needed.

But as the night went on, he couldn’t ignore the way you seemed, almost uncertain about the attention he gave you. You’d shiver under his touch, your breath catching in ways that sent heat pooling in his chest, but there was also a restraint, as though you didn’t quite know what to do with the care he offered so freely.

When he finally asked again, his voice was steady and low. "Talk to me. If something doesn’t feel right, I need to know."

You hesitated, your gaze flicking away before finding him again. "It’s not that. It’s just… I’m not used to this."

"This?" he prompted gently.

"Being treated like… like I’m the one who matters," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "My past relationships weren’t… great. Sex wasn’t always…great. Scary even."

Aaron felt a flash of anger at the thought of anyone treating you with anything less than the respect and care you deserved, but he quickly pushed it aside. This moment wasn’t about them; it was about you. "I’m sorry you went through that," he said, his thumb brushing along your jaw. "But this is about us. And I want you to feel safe and comfortable. If that means taking things slower or stopping altogether, just say the word."

You shook your head. "It’s not that I don’t want this. I do. It’s just… hard to wrap my head around."

"Then let me help you," Aaron said, his voice unwavering. "You’re allowed to want this, to enjoy this. You don’t have to earn it or prove anything to me."

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Aaron’s heart ached at the vulnerability you were showing him. He kissed your forehead, letting the moment stretch until you exhaled a shaky breath.

"Okay," you murmured. "But you’ll have to be patient with me."

Aaron smiled softly. "Patience is something I’m good at."

As the days turned into weeks, Aaron made it his quiet mission to help you unlearn the harmful lessons your past relationships had taught you. He paid attention, learning the ways your body responded to his touch, the subtle shifts in your breathing that signaled when you were truly at ease. He noticed the way you hesitated to ask for what you wanted, so he started asking instead, his voice always steady and unassuming.

"Does this feel good?" he’d ask, his lips brushing against your ear.

When you nodded, he’d press further, "Tell me what you need."

At first, you were hesitant; your answers were clipped and uncertain. But over time, you began to trust that his questions weren’t loaded, that he truly wanted to know. And when you finally started voicing your desires, the shy, breathy way you asked made Aaron’s chest swell with a mixture of pride and tenderness.

One night, as you lay tangled together, your head resting on his chest, you spoke up unexpectedly. "You make it hard not to feel guilty."

Aaron’s brow furrowed, his fingers pausing their gentle strokes along your back. "Guilty?"

"For taking so much," you said quietly. "I’m not used to someone… caring this much."

He shifted, tilting your chin so you’d look at him. "You’re not taking anything, and you have nothing to feel guilty about. You give more than you realize."

When you didn’t look convinced, he added, "I’m not just here to give to you; I’m here because I want to share something with you. And that means letting me take care of you when you need it."

Your eyes searched his, and Aaron held your gaze, hoping you could see the sincerity in his words. After a moment, you nodded, your expression softening. "I’ll try to remember that."

Aaron kissed you then, slow and deliberate, a silent promise that he’d be here for as long as you needed him. In that moment, he realized that intimacy wasn’t just about physical closeness; it was about building something stronger, something that could withstand the weight of past hurts and insecurities. And with you, he was ready to build it—one step, one moment, one breath at a time.

Over the next few weeks, Aaron continued to watch and learn, careful not to push but always ready to meet you where you were. One night, after an especially long day at work, you’d curled into his side on the couch. His hand rested on your knee, tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your leggings. You were quiet, your fingers absently playing with the edge of his shirt.

“You’re always so… thoughtful,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the soft hum of the television.

Aaron glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Shouldn’t I be?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you avoided his gaze. “It’s just… new for me. I don’t know how to… reciprocate.”

He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “You don’t have to do anything differently. Pleasing you, making you feel cared for—that’s what makes me happy. Seeing you relax, knowing you feel safe with me, that’s everything I could want.”

Your eyes darted to his, a flicker of disbelief mingling with the gratitude he saw there. “But it feels like I’m taking too much. Like I’m being selfish.”

Aaron shook his head gently. “You’re not being selfish. You’re learning to accept what you’ve always deserved. And if it makes you feel better, you’ve already given me more than you know.”

You tilted your head slightly, a small frown tugging at your lips. “How?”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before speaking. “By letting me in. By trusting me. That’s more than enough.”

The way your expression softened told Aaron you were starting to believe him, even if it would take time for you to fully embrace it. He’d wait as long as you needed because seeing you begin to let go of the walls you’d built was a privilege he didn’t take lightly.

“I’ll try,” you said finally, your voice steady but quiet. “But it’s going to take time.”

Aaron smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

The next time you were together, Aaron could tell something was on your mind. He noticed it in the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your gaze flickered to his before darting away. You wanted something, but you wouldn’t ask for it. The realization hit him with a pang of sadness—whatever your past had been; it had taught you that your wants didn’t matter, or worse, that they would be met with rejection.

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek to catch your attention. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady and calming. “You’re holding something back. What is it?”

Your lips parted, but no words came at first. You looked down, your hands fidgeting, and then let out a small, shaky breath. “It’s stupid,” you murmured. “I don’t even know how to bring it up.”

“It’s not stupid,” Aaron said firmly, his thumb now tracing slow, reassuring circles on the back of your hand. “Whatever it is, I want to hear it. You don’t have to filter anything with me.”

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip. “I’m… scared you won’t like it,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Or that you’ll think it’s… weird. Or judge me for asking.”

The vulnerability in your voice hit Aaron like a punch to the gut. He let the words sink in, his chest tightening at the thought of anyone making you feel ashamed for voicing your needs. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before speaking, his voice low and sincere. “There are very few things I can think of that I wouldn’t want to do—if it’s with you.”

You looked up at him, your eyes widening slightly, and Aaron saw the flicker of disbelief in your expression. He smiled softly, his gaze steady and unwavering. “I mean that. Whatever you’re worried about, whatever you want to try, I’ll listen. You can trust me to meet you there, no matter what it is.”

Your lips quirked into the faintest smile, though uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” he said gently. “Because I care about you. Making you happy, seeing you comfortable—that’s what matters to me. Not some arbitrary line or rule. Just us.”

Your voice wavered when you finally replied. “I’ve never had that before. Someone who just… wants me to feel good.”

Aaron’s hand slid to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you couldn’t look away. “Then let me be that for you,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “There’s no rush, no pressure. If you’re not ready to share, that’s okay. But when you are, I’ll be here. And I promise, there’s nothing you could say that would make me think less of you.”

The raw sincerity in his voice seemed to ease the tension in your shoulders. You took a shaky breath and nodded, your fingers squeezing his hand. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try.”

Aaron kissed you softly, his touch lingering as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “That’s all I ask,” he said. “We’ll take this one step at a time.”

____________

Aaron wasn’t sure what he expected, but the way you seemed to glow after sharing and having it met was enough to make him forget any preconceptions. The two of you were still tangled in each other, the room quiet except for your soft breathing. You looked peaceful, content, your head resting on his chest as his fingers drew idle patterns along your back. He’d seen you like this only a handful of times—truly at ease—and it struck him how rare and precious these moments were.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice was calm, but there was an undertone of something deeper. “You seemed… happy.”

You laughed quietly against his chest, your breath warm against his skin. “I am,” you admitted, your tone carrying a note of surprise, as if even you weren’t used to the idea. “I’m glad I said something.”

Aaron smiled faintly, his hand pausing for a moment before resuming its gentle movements. “I’m glad you did too,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “I’m always trying to figure you out, but sometimes, you’re an enigma.”

You shifted slightly, looking up at him with an expression caught somewhere between curiosity and caution. “An enigma?”

“Not in a bad way,” he clarified quickly. “You’re just… hard to read sometimes. I usually pride myself on understanding people, but with you, I feel like I’m always learning.”

You were quiet for a moment, your fingers tracing a faint line along his ribs. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.

“Not at all,” Aaron said, his tone resolute. “I like learning about you. But I want to understand why you hold back so much. Not just with this, but in general.”

You stiffened slightly, and Aaron immediately regretted pushing. He shifted, tilting your chin up so he could meet your eyes. “I don’t mean to pry,” he said gently. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s okay.”

“No, it’s not that,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

Aaron waited patiently, his gaze steady and unjudging. He could see the wheels turning in your head, the way your fingers gripped the edge of the sheet as if grounding yourself. Finally, you exhaled, a long and shaky breath.

“My past relationships weren’t exactly… kind,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “Sex was always about them. What they wanted, what they liked. It didn’t matter if it hurt or if I wasn’t comfortable. It was just… something to get through.”

Aaron’s chest tightened as he listened, a mix of anger and sadness washing over him. He didn’t interrupt, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I think I just stopped expecting it to be anything else,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “And when it wasn’t… good, I blamed myself. Like maybe I wasn’t good enough, or I wasn’t doing something right. It just… made me feel so exposed, and not in a good way.”

Aaron’s hand stilled on your back, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you closer. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You shrugged lightly, your gaze fixed on the pattern of the sheets. “I guess I just got used to it.”

He tilted your chin up again, his dark eyes boring into yours. “That’s not something you should have to get used to,” he said firmly. “You deserve to be cared for, to feel safe. And if there’s anything I can do to help you feel that way, you just have to tell me.”

You nodded slowly, your lips pressing into a faint, shaky smile. “You already are,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t have shared anything if I didn’t feel safe with you.”

Aaron’s heart swelled at your words, but he could still see the weight of your past lingering in your expression. “You don’t have to carry all of that by yourself anymore,” he said softly. “I’m here, for all of it. For you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into his chest as you rested your head back against him. “It’s just going to take time,” you murmured.

“I have all the time in the world,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “And as long as you let me, I’ll keep showing you that it doesn’t have to be like it was before.”

You didn’t say anything, but the way you clung to him spoke volumes. Aaron held you close, his hand resuming its gentle path along your back, silently vowing to keep learning, to keep showing you that intimacy could be a place of comfort and joy, not pain and fear. And in that quiet moment, he felt something shift—a sense of trust growing between you, fragile but unbreakable.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

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@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

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@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

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@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x you #hotch x reader #kiwriteswords

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reaper2187 · 2 months ago

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Caitlyn kiramman x female reader

The Shadows We Share

The damp, cold air of Stillwater Prison clung to every stone, the metallic tang of despair thick in the narrow corridors. Caitlyn adjusted her rifle strap as she followed the warden, her sharp eyes scanning for any sudden movement. She wasn’t here to gawk; she was here to get answers.

Vi, walking ahead of her in tense silence, had been more than reluctant to return. Stillwater was a scar, a place where guilt and anger intersected with memories she couldn’t fully ignore. She had grudgingly agreed to let Caitlyn help her—after all, Caitlyn wasn’t one to give up once her mind was set. And Vi? She couldn’t shake the feeling she’d left something behind here. Or someone.

As they reached the farthest block of cells, the warden slowed. “You sure this is the one you’re looking for?” he grunted, gesturing to a cell shrouded in shadows.

“I’ll know it when I see it,” Vi shot back, her voice sharp. Caitlyn glanced at her, sensing the tension beneath her bravado.

The cell in question wasn’t like the others. Its occupant didn’t bother pacing or glaring through the bars. Instead, they sat on a cot at the far end, back straight, head tilted slightly as if aware of their observers before they even approached.

When the figure turned, Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice how striking they were. The sharp planes of their face, the unmistakable strength in their posture, and yet, there was something else—a cold, calculating air that seemed almost suffocating.

Vi’s breath hitched. “Y/N?”

The woman blinked, recognition flickering across her stoic features. “Vi.” Her voice was low, even, as if the years hadn’t passed. “Took you long enough.”

Caitlyn watched the exchange curiously, her rifle steady in her grip. Y/N—Vi had called her that—wasn't just another inmate. There was a history here. She could see it in the subtle shift in Vi’s demeanor, the way her usual cockiness dimmed into something more subdued.

“Who’s this?” Y/N asked, her tone neutral but her gaze landing on Caitlyn with an almost clinical assessment.

“Caitlyn,” Vi muttered, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s with me.”

The corner of Y/N’s mouth quirked into what might’ve been a smirk. “With you? Didn’t think you’d take to making friends with enforcers.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” Vi shot back, her fists clenching. “But you—you’re alive. How the hell are you here?”

Y/N leaned back slightly, the chains on her wrists clinking faintly. “Where else would I be? People like me don’t get to walk free, Vi. You know that.”

Caitlyn stepped forward. “And who are you, exactly?”

Y/N’s gaze snapped to her, sharp and unyielding. “Someone who doesn’t need to answer your questions.” Her eyes flicked back to Vi. “But maybe you should answer mine. What are you doing here?”

Vi exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “We’re here for something else. Didn’t expect to see you here, though.”

“You didn’t expect to see me because you forgot me,” Y/N replied flatly, her tone cutting but not bitter. “Not that I blame you. You had other priorities.”

“I didn’t forget,” Vi said, her voice low, almost pleading. “I thought you were—”

“Dead?” Y/N offered, tilting her head slightly. “Close enough.”

Caitlyn, feeling the tension growing, intervened. “You’re from Zaun?”

Y/N raised a brow. “A long time ago.”

“She’s more than that,” Vi interjected, her voice laced with guilt. “She’s—she was like a sister to me. She taught me how to fight, how to survive. Vander trusted her with everything.”

Caitlyn frowned, the pieces starting to fit together. Y/N wasn’t just another criminal. She was someone Vi had cared about deeply, someone who had been part of her past long before Stillwater.

The conversation shifted as Caitlyn pressed further. “If you were that close to Vander and the others, why are you here? What happened?”

Y/N’s eyes darkened, her expression unreadable. “Zaun has no shortage of people who want you dead. I made a living off that fact.” She paused, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Apparently, the Piltover authorities don’t appreciate hitmen in their streets.”

“You were arrested for assassination?” Caitlyn asked, her voice sharp.

“Among other things,” Y/N replied nonchalantly. “Stillwater’s my penance.”

Vi shook her head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration flashing across her face. “You could’ve gotten out. You’re too smart for this.”

“Getting out isn’t the problem,” Y/N said quietly. “Staying out is.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Caitlyn glanced between them, sensing that there was far more to this story than either of them was letting on.

Before the conversation could continue, the warden returned. “If you’re done reminiscing, we’ve got schedules to keep.”

Caitlyn nodded, but Vi hesitated, her gaze lingering on Y/N. “We’re getting out of here,” she said firmly. “All of us.”

Y/N raised a brow, her expression skeptical. “You really think it’s that simple?”

Caitlyn stepped forward. “It’s not simple, but it’s possible. If you’re willing to work with us.”

Y/N studied her for a long moment, her piercing gaze seeming to dissect Caitlyn’s every word. Finally, she nodded. “Fine. But don’t expect me to play nice.”

Vi smirked, the tension easing slightly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they turned to leave, Y/N’s voice stopped them. “Vi.”

She looked back, her expression softening slightly. “Yeah?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

The Escape Plan

Henlo, I do have a second part of this if you all want it. So if you do comment and like. If anyone of y'all have any requests then you can also leave those in the comments or in the submission box thingy

Okiee byeeee

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yandere-sins · 3 months ago

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Ever so often I go back to play some DoL and in my new run I got a bit more interested in our lovely school bully, so I looked them up and spoilered myself found some things out that inspired me to write about them ♥

Isn't it so cute when the bully starts to care a bit more about their victims than they should?

Characters: Male!Whitney (Degrees of Lewdity) x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con, Public Sex, Derogatory Nicknames, Creampie, Fear of Pregnancy, Humiliation, Non-Consensual Picture Taking) Bullying, Posessiveness, Mental Struggles, Threats

Sobbing, you clung to him as his cock pounded into you. Merciless and without much thought to your obvious state of distress, Whitney abused your hole, grunting as he caved it out even though you had pleaded with him not to. Not like he had ever listened to you before, but you wondered if there was ever a "too much" in his books, your hopes silently shattering as you bit back a moan from escaping.

Giggles and mean comments rained down on you from the sidelines, phone shutters going off, the sound deliberately turned on so you would hear it. The embarrassment was like a cloud of heat, cooking you from the inside out and blurring your judgment. You wanted to struggle, but every bit of movement would make your body more visible, even though you wanted to hide it away more than anything. Your legs were held apart by the ankles, giving you very little support as Whitney pushed into you recklessly, but they kept you in place enough that his cock wouldn't slip out.

All while the onlookers took videos from below.

You knew better than to make more of a fool out of yourself than you already were to these bullies. They wouldn't listen to your pleas, and your screams fell on deaf ears around the almost empty school. Although you could try fighting, who were you kidding? Whitney wasn't known to be a weakling. It wasn't the first time you had to deal with him and the humiliation, but no amount of repetition made the crime less severe.

Letting out a loud sniffle, you buried your face in his chest, his grunts breaking for one push, and you felt one of his arms snake around your back as he grew even more eager. It was no embrace that could comfort you, but at least he didn't force you to face the cameras and make your expression a public amusement and the next best blackmail material.

"Hey, Whitney! Stop hoggin' them! We all want some of the fun!" some student called out, gripping your bully by the shoulder. With surprising ferocity, Whitney twisted his body around, slapping the hand away while pulling you tighter against his body.

"Fuck off!" he hissed as the student tumbled and crashed into the tables. "Y'all can get lost, you're not getting your dicks wet today!"

His movements halted while he was occupied with the groans and shouts of his peers, needing to keep them in check as they crowded close, calling him 'unfair' and a killjoy. He bit back just as aggressively, and more embarrassment flared up inside you as people got closer.

Scared, you clung to him, fingers buried in the shirt on his back, and with your legs being released, you clasped them tightly around his hips. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and Whitney hissed, the voices of the other students briefly stopping before they rose up in laughter.

"Seems like our good pal got hitched!"

"Pussy-drunk bastard!"

"Man, this is no fun. Let's go somewhere else."

Sighs turned into small talk, into discussions about where to have dinner, until all your bullies had crowded out of the room, leaving only you and Whitney behind. It was fascinating how quickly they could change their interest, how little all of this truly meant to them while the trauma clung heavily to you.

"Urgh," Whitney groaned, leaning forward until your back hit the top of the table. "Why are you sticking so close to me? Stop being a fucking leech."

"S-Sorry..."

Within seconds, Whitney had snapped his hips back against yours, burying his cock deep inside, and you grunted in response, covering your mouth to hold back the moans.

"You're really getting on my nerves—stop that!"

Tearing your hand away, Whitney pinned it to the table, leaving you defenseless. His other hand gripped the edge of the wood, giving him the leverage to pound into you, spreading your walls far apart while messing with your insides.

"Why..." you mumbled, breathless. "Why did you stop them?"

"The fuck kinda question is that? You want them to fuck you? I can call them back if that's—"

"N-No! Please don't..."

His lips curled into a mean grin as he stared down at you, eyes moving from yours to your lips, to your breasts jiggling beneath. "You owe me now, big time," he grinned, and you felt a knot form in your stomach.

Reaching down, Whitney gripped one of your thighs, lifting it higher for better access before his pace quickened. "You're so fucking done," he grunted. "I'll make your life hell, and you'll love every second of it. That'll teach you not to question me."

"S-Sorry! I just wanted to know!"

Months of bullying had worn down your defenses, and you should have known better. But Whitney had never been one to show you any mercy before, so curiosity had gotten the better of you. And like an idiot, you had fallen into his trap again.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt another knot form in your stomach, this one much more frightening than the one before. You didn't want to come from this, didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making you come. Still, every time he pushed into you, you felt closer to that edge, toes curling. At the same time, you listened to the embarrassing sound of your pussy squelching. Whitney, too, sounded close, not afraid to let out his voice as he dug inside, fulfilling his desires primarily.

In the truest sense of the word, you two crashed hard as Whitney leaned down, lips smashing into yours as both moans collided pitifully. His hips still jerked a few times, and you gasped as you felt the hot mess he spilled inside you, fearing the worst. You absolutely couldn't get pregnant by him—what kind of sick nightmare would that have been?—but even as you tried to push him away, ramming your knees into his chest, he wouldn't budge. Usually, things ended after humiliating you, but with no one around, apparently, Whitney didn't think it was necessary to sully your face or body, leaving his cum inside you without a second thought.

"N-No!" you mewled into his savage kiss, but Whitney only grinned, rocking the table until it tilted back, forcing you to wrap your legs around his and your arms around his neck to not slip off the surface and hurt yourself. Though with this, escaping was pretty much impossible, and despite your panic, your body filled up nicely with his cum, taking every spurt he gave.

"Fuckin' hell," Whitney complained when he finally released you from the kiss, setting down the table and wiping his mouth. He looked down at you with the same condescending gaze as usual, and you wondered how pitiful you must have looked in those dark eyes of his. "You need to take classes on how to kiss, you fucking suck."

"S-Sorry," you sobbed, feeling the deliberate slow pull of Whitney as he freed his cock from your pussy, popping it out after wiping it thoroughly against your walls. Giving your left thigh a slap, he let them both drop uncaringly as he stepped back, moving his cock back into his pants and underwear and zipping it up.

"Get dressed, slut," he ordered, nodding his head in the direction of your discarded panties and skirt, and you slowly got up from your position, waddling over to your clothes with shaking knees. It didn't take a moment longer than you had pulled them up when you felt Whitney's warmth at your back, his hands snaking around your body and towards the zipper of your skirt. You held your breath as you listened to the sound of him zipping you up, giving you back some line of defense now with your clothes on.

"Just so we're clear, you're not just anyone's little plaything. Those buffoons don't get to enjoy you unless I give them permission. And today..."

You looked up at him as his hand fell to your throat, squeezing it in an attention-demanding grip. Whitney's dilated pupils searched for your gaze, locking onto it with a ferocity that made your legs quiver, a small whimper escaping you as he tightened his grip around your throat threateningly.

"Today, I really didn't feel like sharing."

Lowering his mouth to yours, Whitney nipped your lower lip with his teeth, prompting yours to part so he could stick his tongue inside. For someone who claimed he didn't enjoy your amateur kissing, you two stayed like this for a while, breaths heating up between you as the intensity rose. His eyes never strayed from you, capturing them, forcing you to look at him, and making sure your thoughts wouldn't stray from what he was doing. Whitney wanted these moments to be burned into your soul, the utmost cruelty he could muster, always making you remember the things he did to you.

With his hand positioned as it was, you didn't dare challenge him to squeeze harder, allowing him to ravage your mouth, his other hand falling on top of your skirt, cramming it up to grab your asscheek hard. The sudden pain of his palm hitting your skin made you jolt, and you whimpered into the kiss, Whitney finally pulling away. You felt your underwear damping as fluids leaked from your pussy, wetness coating your inner thighs as you were reminded of Whitney's claim on you.

"Seriously, get good," he mumbled as he pushed you aside, wiping his mouth from the excess drool you two had produced. "Next time, you'll need that sucky mouth of yours."

Passing you by, he smacked your rear once more, laughing as you jumped and hit another desk's edge, more pain flashing through you. However, when you finally got a grip on yourself, you looked up to catch him still watching you from the doorframe, almost as if he was waiting to see if you were okay.

More cum mixed with your juices ran down your legs as you squatted down, picking up your bag and books the bullies had thrown around. "I don't get it," you mumbled quietly, still feeling his gaze at your back.

"Speak up if you got something to say, clown."

Shaking your head, you walked after Whitney, who only huffed at your refusal, walking five steps ahead of you as you two made your way out of school. Something about his behavior was strange, and you had difficulty pinpointing it. But where he usually didn't seem to care about you, he stuck unnecessarily close to you that day.

"Ugh! Finally!" you heard a girl yell once you two reached the school gate. You looked up to see Whitney's clique waiting for him. He split from you and walked to them while you hurriedly marched in the other direction, as far away as possible.

"What is it with them?! Do you like that slut?!" the girl asked, the insults hurled directly at you even though her question was as ridiculous as the whole bullying.

"No," Whitney firmly denied, and for some reason, it made the knot in your stomach twist. You knew that, but it made the situation almost worse.

"But they're mine, so fuck off."

"What!" the girl screeched, and you halted in your tracks, slowly turning around to look at Whitney's back. He kept walking, unbothered by his friend's reaction. The others started to cheer and mock him, but he simply kept walking, his head slowly turning around after a few more steps.

Your eyes met.

You couldn't read his lips well from the side, but his smirk and the gleam in your eyes made you assume a thousand words he could have mimed at that moment.

Only one stuck.

Mine.

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ajortga · 4 months ago

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love you silently

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

a/n: i hate this SO much, i seriously didn't know what ideas to write for this

word count: 1.1k+

based off request!

May I request a Jenna Ortega x fem reader where the reader is a fan of her but are dating in secret and Jenna gets jealous plz🙏

You loved the feeling of being loved.

Feeling like you had a reason to live, to wake up with kisses and to have a thumb rubbing against the top of your hand that lulled your stresses away.

But what was even better was being loved by your damn celebrity crush. Dating your celebrity crush.

No seriously, Jenna Marie Ortega was your girlfriend.

And something about you just made Jenna feel so special. Because you weren’t there for fame. You were there for her. On the red carpets, Jenna wouldn’t see you trying to have your photos taken, you were taking photos of her, like a little girl that looked so happy. And even though she wouldn’t mind either way, you were humble.

This quiet kind of love. The love where you didn’t care if it was loud or known by others. As long as it was known by her.

And something about your love being secret felt good.

You were both at a red carpet for Jenna’s upcoming films. She bought you a ticket for a special access, and of course didn’t mind if you wandered with her. You liked coming with a microphone, pretending that you were just an interviewer, not like you were her girlfriend or anything.

It was cute, you followed her like a lost puppy.

You had questions and everything, prepared if you were seen as suspicious. Hell, you even had a set of questions for each cast mate.

Of course only the ones Jenna trusted most knew. Which mainly consisted of her closest family and a few of her closest friends.

So right now, a camera was wrapped around your neck and you just had a random prop microphone in your bag as you clung onto Jenna each time there was no one around.

After the event had started, you and Jenna had to part ways for a while so you wouldn’t cause suspicions.

A few minutes in and someone had tapped you on the shoulder. You were expecting to see your girlfriend, but instead, you were met with a taller man. Um..

Shit.

“Hi?” You start, swallowing as he leans on the random table next to you.

The look he gives you keeps your guard up, his wavy locks that were gelled kind of gave it away. His siren eyes scan you, “I saw you wandering around with Jenna a few hours back and just thought you were pretty.” He says, his voice trying to be alluring.

You were sure he might’ve eaten garlic.

When you don’t respond, just tilting your head, he clears his throat, “I’m Liam, I play in the same movie with Jenna.”

Oh, Liam. Jenna had mentioned him a few times in the past, and you could tell that he was the kind of person to get on people’s nerves. Arrogant was what Jenna had said.

“I see,” you respond, distracted as you scan the room for Jenna, who was having her photos taken. You immediately play with your camera. “How has the movie been? What do you enjoy about it?” You ask, trying to maintain your interviewer physique.

Liam’s eyebrows tilt up, “Been good, I think the best part is when pretty interviewers come up to me because of it.” He says, voice cheeky, and you almost roll your eyes. He was literally the one who approached you?

As Jenna walks away, she searches the crowd for you. It doesn’t take long when her eyes reach your figure. You were a little backed onto a table, Jenna can’t see your expression from here.

You make a quirky, confused smile at Liam’s joke, laughing at the way he looked a little embarrassed when you didn’t get it the first time. You don’t realize or pay attention to how he’s inching closer to you every few moments. But Jenna does.

He says something that makes you give an awkward smile, and before he can say something further, your eyes trail to your girlfriend’s, well, not so pleased ones.

She stands between you and Liam, giving Liam a sour smile, “Hey,” she grits out, a smile that was definitely, not a smile, on her lips.

“Jenna, hey,” Liam says, her tactics not failing him. “You should’ve told me how sweet Y/N is. I would’ve approached her way sooner. Right?” He turns to you, and you look away, a little uncomfortable.

You can almost see your girlfriend’s eye twitching as she gives another bitter smile and pulls you away. “He always fucking does that,” she grits, literally not caring about the way there are photos being flashed into your faces of her grabbing your arm.

“Baby-” you whisper, Jenna grabbing a cup and filling it with punch, gulping it down. Then guides you to another room and crosses her arms.

“What the hell was that, Y/N? You were seriously getting hit on.”

She looked angry, not at you, just at the situation, upset even. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to get out of there.”

After a moment, you could see the way her eyes softened, and she kissed you. “I understand, I’m sorry baby, I don’t like it when people take advantage of you. I seriously think that we should make our relationship public when we feel like it.”

You bury your face in her shoulder, nodding.

You seriously thought you were safe, after the red carpet, an after party was held. And of course, you were let in. But as you look out at the sunset from your seat, the chair across from you creaks.

A smile was about to form on your face, thinking it was Jenna, and then you see the same gelled locks. Sigh.

“And we meet again. At least we might not get interrupted this time?” He suggests, and you feel your mouth quirk, ugh. Did this man seriously have 0 knowledge of spatial awareness?

He bought you a glass of wine, and you refused to drink it, then he bought another one.

“Liam, I don’t think-”

“Hate to break it to you, but she doesn’t want to even talk to you,” a soft hand comes from behind, resting on your shoulder. You let out a breath of relief, she stood next to you, still holding her punch of juice.

Liam’s eyes narrow at the actress he works with. “Why don’t we let her be the judge of that?”

“The only thing I’m letting her judge is your damn attitude,” Jenna says, pissed off as she dunks her fruit punch over his suit.

You can hear him cussing her out, and before you know it, you're cussing at him. "Don't you fucking talk to her like that!" You shriek, but she’s basically scooping you up and angrily walking somewhere else.

“Um.. Where are we going?” You ask, voice small as she goes out a quieter way, placing you on the passenger seat. She looks like she’s about to lash out, but when she turns to you, definitely not.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” she murmurs, thinking. “How about milkshakes and fries?”

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x reader #jenna marie ortega #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #jenna ortega x reader

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propheticbride · 5 months ago

Text

Doing It All For Love

𐙚 Reeling after her meeting with Rhaenyra in the sept, she takes advantage of the one thing that reminds her most of her true love; you. Even if you are Aegon’s wife, Rhaenyra’s only daughter and technically, her step-granddaughter.

𐙚 Alicent x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader (tw: step-incest, age gap; alicent is reader's step-grandmother and 38/reader is 20, manipulation, slight dub-con)

AN: i am still writing lamb to slaughter i am just rlly turned on by alicent being manipulative and being in power <3 reader is of age, no i am not doing the math

Alicent can't breathe. The power, her very control on matters is slipping. Aegon is lost, Aemond a violent monster. Helaena lost to her grief. Matters possibly be any worse. Of course they could. They always can.

She had told Rhaenyra to her face that war was due, that it was inevitable. Alicent knew the succession had not been changed, that Viserys did not change his mind.

But was Alicent to blame for wanting power of her own? To have developed a taste for it since it was first forced down her throat? Was it so bad of her? Her father had drilled in her so hard Aegon’s claim that had to be what she truly wanted. Why else would she forcibly usurp the only person that has ever loved her.

But it was far too late. All of it set in place. The board was set. Time to play the game before them. But she couldn't deny her feelings. Noy truly. She was angry. Angry at her father, angry at her king, at Aegon.

“Your grace?” you call softly.

Alicent half smiles, but it isn't sincere. She isn't the queen anymore, you are. She foolishly thought if she rushed and married you to a newly crowned Aegon that Rhaenyra would bend. She didn't know Daemon would simply declare war for his better half as you were now considered a 'hostage’ in the capital.

“You are the queen. You can call me Alicent, or mother…” Alicent walks towards you, and allows her hand to reach your face. “...or grandmother.”

“You're so young to be a grandmother.” you assure her.

“You think I look young?” Alicent feeds off your validation, so eager to please. You don't know if it's sincere or a survival tactic but she doesn't care, it turns her on all the same. “You’re such a dove, aren't you? Flaunting about the keep as you please. So insistent on making me and your betters happy.”

“I just want to please you all so you don't take my head.” you admit rashly.

“Take your head?” she cocks hers. “Why would we?”

“Because my mother is…my mother is a traitor and so is my father. I have traitor’s blood.” you say softly.

“You have the blood of the dragon and you share Aegon’s blood. Not all is treacherous.” Alicent tries to calm you, even though the words affirm what you fear people say about you is true. You are the blood of a whore, a traitor. And the worst is you are no bastard, but the daughter of an even worse fate, Daemon Targaryen.

“I wish to be a good queen to you, to Aegon and them.” Alicent reaches to hold your hand and pulls you closer. You gaze up at her.

“You are a good queen. Probably more loved than I.” Alicent’s voice is calming, but not to be sweet or kind or caring. No. She wants you in a false state of comfort.

The more Alicent looks at you, studies your face. The more you look like Rhaenyra. She could see why the court confused you two at times. You didn't have a shred of Daemon in your face, she thanks the gods for that. But you have her former friend’s face. The friend she so desperately clung to as a child. The one who turned her back on her. And now her daughter was clinging to her.

Alicent leans in and kisses you, it’s gentle and she can physically feel you react to it.

You immediately pull back, “Your grace-”

“I am not the queen, you stupid girl.” she grabs your hands firmer, her nails digging into you. “You took that position, usurped it from me.”

“As you have usurped my mother.” you speak back, matching her cold tone. As soon as the words leave you, you regret it.

“I am so sorry, have I hurt you?” she asks as she brings your hands to her face to inspect. Her tone changes to soft again, as she watches blood pool around the moons her nails left in your skin.

“I want to go home!” you admit, tears streaming your face. “I want my mother.”

“I wanted your mother too once. She was my…friend. But she has turned her back on me, on you.” Alicent kisses your hands gently.

“You lie.”

“Do I sweetling? Where is your mother? If I had heard my daughter had married my enemy I’d swarm the palace with my dragon and burn it to ash. But she has not yet even made a move and it has been weeks.” she shakes her head at you, almost mocking you for being so naive.

Alicent holds your head, and leans in to kiss you again, this time more roughly. You don't react, you let it happen. Alicent controls it, every movement she has the power and orchestrates it. And you're so stupid, naive and powerless, you let her.

“What would Aegon say?” you break away, mostly to catch your breath.

“He's with painted whores as we speak.” She licks her lips. You taste like fruit, something she knew you were fond of. She watches your face fall. “Does that upset you?”

“No.” you shake your head. “I do not think so. I don't love him.”

“I know.” Alicent goes to kiss you again, and this time you kiss back.

Your hands go to her waist and you whimper into her mouth. Her hands begin peeling you of your gown, a soft white and gold, and you work to untie the strings on the back of hers.

It’s all happening so fast you can't control anything, she's in charge. You can't help it, you miss your mother. Your gown is slipped off onto the floor and Alicent reaches to pull you closer, gently turns you and then throws you lightly on her bed.

“Have you two lied together?” she asks, finishing stripping her gown down, the dark green material pooling at her feet.

You can't help but stare at her body, despite four pregnancies her body still was slender, and a soft warm color painted her skin. You watched Alicent remove her seven pointed star necklace, kiss it and set it down.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” she asks, beginning to sit beside you on the bed.

You shake your head and watch her take pieces of your silver hair in her hands. God you looked so much like Rhaenyra, she needed to have you.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, snapping her out of her trance.

She smiles, mostly because she knows she has you, and she does. She kisses you again, and places herself above you.

You wonder what Rhaenyra would say, what she would think. They had been childhood friends, and now you were kissing her old friend and newest enemy, about to sleep with her. It was all entrancing. Would Daemon have your head when they eventually stormed Kings Landing?

Alicent dips her fingers in her mouth, coating them with spit before settling inside your cunt. You groan, and arch your back at her touch. Pure pleasure shoots through you as she continues to pump her digits in and out of you. She watches you with hungry eyes, picturing your mother in your spot.

You're a gentle little girl, always so keen on pleasing others, Alicent smiled slightly at you finally being pleased. She knew Aegon did not take your pleasure into account, her nasty excuse of a son could not please anyone. Not even the maids he took his pleasure from.

“Feel good sweet dove?” Alicent coos, voice full of sex.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you cry out, pressure building as you become closer to orgasm. “Please don't stop.”

“I won't, I won't.” she says softly, mostly to herself.

You looked good like this, sweat stuck to your forehead, writhing in pleasure, pleasure given by her. Alicent pulls her fingers out, which causes you to omit soft pleading for her to go back to what she was doing.

She settles between your legs, and gives small kisses on your thighs.

“Don't tease me, please your grace.” you beg.

“I’ll do what I want, won't I?” Alicent doesn't wait for your answer until she's latching her mouth on your now wet cunt, sucking and licking away, the sounds of your moans growing louder and filling the chamber.

She didn't care if maids heard, or passed by and saw. All she cared about was that you were close to cumming on her tongue. She traced your cunt up and down with the wet muscle, ensuring your clit got the most attention.

Your orgasm hits hard, causing you to wrap your legs around her head, “Gods gods gods gods!”

As you ride your wave of pleasure, Alicent licks up the mess and gives your cunt one last kiss before pulling up and looking at you. Her mouth was wet, no soaked with your cum. You blush at the sight.

“Sweet girl.” Alicent wipes her mouth on the duvet, and lays beside you.

“Do you want me to…please you, your grace?” you ask.

She shakes her head, “Dowager queen.”

As you cuddle into her side, still breathing heavily, the one thing that crosses Alicent’s mind is your mother.

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #aegon ii targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd smut #ahhhhh #hey :3

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rayaaani · 17 days ago

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐞.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem!reader x piercer!se-mi

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut, semi has a tongue piercing cause why not , pain kink and dacryphilia if you squint really hard, dom!se-mi,inexperienced reader, mentions of blood and alcohol , reader is HAWTTTT.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: I am terrible at writing smut but passed my English a levels with flying colours so literally everything else is better but I hope you enjoy my first fic and pls request stuff for me to write🙏

The breakup had left a hollow ache inside you. At first, you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal. People broke up every day, didn’t they? But as the days stretched into weeks, the reality sank in: they’d chosen someone else over you. The betrayal stung more than you were willing to admit.

Eunji, ever the faithful friend, was quick to notice your decline. One evening, after you canceled plans for the third time that week, she stormed into your apartment with wine, snacks, and a pointed determination to drag you out of your funk.

“You can’t keep moping around,” she said, tossing a throw pillow at you as you sulked on the couch. “You’re too hot to let them ruin you.”

You snorted, but the laughter felt foreign. “Hot? Eunji, I’ve barely showered this week.”

“Exactly my point,” she said, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. “We’re doing a makeover. You’re going to remind yourself—and everyone else—exactly who the hell you are.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the idea had merit. That night, Eunji introduced the seed of rebellion: “Have you ever thought about dyeing your hair?

The next day, you stared at yourself in the mirror, box of red hair dye in hand.

The breakup had left you craving change, and this was your first step. The fiery red was bold, brash, and unapologetic—the exact opposite of how you felt. But as you worked the dye into your hair, you imagined yourself as the confident, fearless woman you wanted to become.

When you rinsed the dye out and styled your hair into loose, messy waves, you barely recognized the woman staring back. The red brought out a new intensity in your eyes, and the bold color paired with your nose piercing gave you an edge that felt exciting and liberating.

You snapped a picture and sent it to Eunji.

“Holy shit,” she texted back almost immediately. “You look like a goddamn rockstar. I’m coming over.”

“You need a new piercing to go with that hair,” Eunji announced as she lounged on your couch that evening.

“Piercing?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Something edgy. Like an eyebrow piercing. Ooh, or a lip ring!”

You laughed but found yourself considering it. “Do you have a place in mind?”

Eunji’s face lit up. “Black Needle Studio. Trust me, they’re the best. And,” she added with a smirk, “the piercer? Se-Mi? Hot. As. Fuck.”

“Hot, huh?” you said, intrigued despite yourself.

“Hot doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Eunji said, sitting up to look you in the eye. “She’s tall, gorgeous, and has these tattoos that’ll make you want to crawl into her lap. Her voice is low and smooth, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. And when she looks at you? It’s game over.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach. “You’re overselling this.”

“Nope,” Eunji said, grinning. “Book the appointment. You’ll see.”

The moment you stepped into Black Needle Studio, you understood what Eunji had meant.

Se-Mi was standing at the counter, casually flipping through a clipboard. Her fitted black tank top revealed toned arms covered in intricate tattoos, and her dark jeans clung to her figure in all the right ways. She had an aura of effortless confidence, like she owned the world and couldn’t care less if anyone knew it.

Her dark eyes lifted as you walked in, locking onto you with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“Here for a piercing?” she asked, her voice low and smooth.

You nodded, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her gaze. “Yeah. Eyebrow piercing.”

Her lips curled into a faint smirk. “Good choice. Let’s get you set up.”

She led you to a private room, her movements fluid and purposeful. As she pulled on gloves and prepped the needle, the air between you felt charged.

“So,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension, “is this your first time?”

You shook your head. “I have a nose piercing.”

Her eyes flicked to your nose, lingering for a moment. “Looks good on you. You’ll rock the eyebrow, too.”

Your cheeks flushed under her gaze. “Thanks.”

As she cleaned and marked the area, her fingers brushed against your skin lightly, sending shivers down your spine.

“This might sting,” she said, her tone almost teasing. “Think you can handle it?”

You nodded, though your heart was pounding.

“Deep breath,” she instructed. The needle went through, and you let out a quiet whimper at the sharp pain.

“Doing okay?” she asked, her voice softer now.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “You did great.”

When she handed you the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile. The piercing was perfect, adding a boldness to your face that made you feel invincible.

“Looks amazing,” she said, her smirk returning. “You wear it well.”

Your heart fluttered at her words, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she meant more than just the piercing.

That night, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. Everything about se-mi ,her confidence, her voice, the way her hands had lingered just a second longer than necessary—was etched into your mind.

You called Eunji the moment you got home.

“She’s unreal,” you said, pacing your apartment. “I mean, you said she was hot, but this is next-level. She has this presence. Like she knows exactly how to make you feel—”

“Like putty in her hands?” Eunji finished, laughing.

“Exactly!” you said, flopping onto your couch. “And her tattoos… God, Eunji, I don’t even know how I managed to form coherent sentences.”

“She sounds dangerous,” Eunji teased. “In the best way.”

You groaned. “What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and think about her all night?”

“Why not go out and celebrate?” Eunji suggested. “You look amazing with that new piercing. Let’s hit the club and show it off.”

You didn’t notice your ex until it was too late. They were across the room, laughing with the same “friend” they’d sworn was platonic. Your stomach churned, but you refused to let it ruin your night.

“Forget them,” Eunji said, pulling you back onto the dance floor.

The air in the club felt heavy with anticipation as you made your way toward the bar, but the presence of your ex caught your eye before you could focus on anything else. There they were, looking carefree and laughing with their friends, completely unaware of the storm swirling inside of you. It was almost maddening how unaffected they seemed, how easily they were moving on. But you? You felt like you were drowning in a sea of emotions, and you were desperate for an escape.

The alcohol had started to do its job, loosening your inhibitions and sharpening the edge of your boldness. The red satin dress you were wearing felt like armor—sexy, confident, a reflection of someone you didn’t recognize but was beginning to like.

As you walked, the club’s lights and music seemed to blur around you. The world was spinning slightly, but in a way that was freeing. Eunji, as usual, was by your side, guiding you through the crowd, but you didn’t care about much else except the burning need to feel alive again, to remind yourself that you were in control of your own life.

“I’m going to have fun tonight,” you muttered to Eunji, your voice slightly slurred.

Eunji grinned, her eyes alight with mischief. “Hell yeah you are. You’re looking amazing tonight. Just wait until you see how everyone reacts.”

You didn’t answer, too distracted by the flashes of neon lights and the rhythmic thump of the bass, which seemed to vibrate through your entire body. Your head felt light, the alcohol mixing with the adrenaline of the night, but something else was there too—a raw, burning desire to make a statement. To make someone feel something.

You spotted your ex across the room again, standing by the bar, and something twisted inside you. You hadn’t meant to walk into this situation looking for revenge, but here you were, wanting to show them that you were doing just fine without them. You weren’t the same girl who had left their apartment a few weeks ago, broken and lost. You were someone else now—someone better.

“Let’s have some fun,” you whispered to Eunji as you let go of her hand, pulling away from the crowd.

You didn’t know where you were going, but your feet seemed to carry you across the dance floor, past groups of people grinding to the beat, the alcohol in your system making you feel bold, almost daring. You were feeling good, feeling unstoppable.

And then you saw her.

Se-Mi was sitting off to the side, casually talking to a group of her friends. She hadn’t seen you yet, but you saw her, and the sight of her made something shift deep inside you.

She was stunning.

Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, her lips slightly curved into a smile as she laughed. You could see the way the light caught her piercing, the coolness in her demeanor that had drawn you in the first time you saw her. Se-Mi was magnetic—impossible to ignore. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, despite the fog of alcohol clouding your thoughts.

She didn’t see you yet, didn’t notice how your breath caught in your throat. But you were done standing back.

The plan had been to show your ex that you were moving on. But now, the impulse to do something—anything—to capture attention overwhelmed you. Without even thinking about it, you sauntered closer to Se-Mi’s booth, her laugh still ringing in the air around you. She didn’t look up, too absorbed in the conversation with her friends. You had to do something.

The alcohol in your system surged, and suddenly you found yourself standing right in front of her, just a few feet away. It was like the world had disappeared, leaving only the need to be seen, to make an impression.

Without warning, you closed the space between you, stepping forward and pressing your lips against hers. The kiss was clumsy, uncoordinated. You hadn’t planned it. But in that moment, the need to feel something—anything—drove you to act.

The world seemed to stop for a moment, the noise of the club fading into the background. Se-Mi didn’t pull away, but she didn’t lean into the kiss either. When you pulled back, her dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Care to explain what that was about?” she asked, her voice low and laced with amusement.

You swallowed hard, the realization of what you’d just done crashing over you. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

It was over in an instant.

Your cheeks burned, and before you could say anything else, Eunji appeared, grabbing your arm. “Time to dance!” she said, pulling you toward the dance floor.

You glanced back at Se-Mi as Eunji dragged you away. She was still watching you, her expression unreadable.

The music was still pounding in your ears as you stumbled off the dance floor, the alcohol swirling inside you, making everything feel just a bit hazy. You needed to get away from the chaos, to process what had just happened. Your head was spinning—both from the alcohol and from the memory of that kiss with Se-Mi.

You found Eunji at the bar, chatting with some random guy, but when she saw the look on your face, she immediately stopped talking and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice softening as she noticed the way you were swaying slightly on your feet.

“I… I think I did something really stupid,” you mumbled, leaning against the bar for support. You swallowed thickly, the weight of what had happened crashing down on you. “I kissed Se-Mi.”

Eunji blinked, her lips parting in surprise. “What?!”

“Yeah, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I just… I was drunk, and I wanted to make my ex jealous, and—” you paused, exhaling shakily, “it just happened. And now I don’t know what to do.”

Eunji took a long pause, looking at you carefully. “You kissed her? Like, Se-Mi kissed you?” she repeated, trying to process it.

You nodded, your face flushed. “Yeah, it was stupid. It was impulsive. I don’t even know why I did it.”

“But…” Eunji trailed off, glancing at you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place. “That means you’re going back, right? You’ve already booked your second session with her.”

Your stomach churned as you thought about it. “Yeah,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I already booked the second piercing… a snake eye piercing.”

Eunji raised an eyebrow. “So… you’re telling me you kissed her, and now you have to go back to her for a piercing?”

You nodded slowly, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. “Yeah. It’s going to be so awkward. I don’t even know what to say. Like, what if she brings it up?”

Eunji’s smirk only grew wider as she took a long sip of her drink. “You know, I think this is actually perfect,” she teased, clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding in your life. “You’re going back to her. She’s the one who’s going to be awkward now, not you.”

You couldn’t help but groan at the thought of the piercing session. It wasn’t just the awkwardness that made you nervous, though. It was the way your body was still humming with the memory of that kiss. The way your lips tingled when you thought about Se-Mi. You knew it wasn’t just a drunken mistake—it was something else. Something deeper.

Two days later, you found yourself standing in front of the piercing studio again, your hands trembling slightly as you reached for the door. The memory of your last visit—of Se-Mi’s steady hands and the way she had made you feel—rushed back, causing your heart to race.

You had managed to keep the details of the kiss to yourself, pushing the awkwardness aside, but now, as you entered the studio once again, you couldn’t help but feel that same tension between you and her. Would she bring it up? Would she make it awkward? You had no idea, but you were about to find out.

When you stepped into the studio, Se-Mi was there, just like last time, waiting behind the piercing counter. She looked as stunning as ever, her dark eyes sharp and confident as she gave you a small, knowing smile.

“Back again?” she said, her voice smooth and casual, as if nothing had happened. But there was something in the way her gaze lingered on you that told you she hadn’t forgotten.

You swallowed, trying to appear composed, but your voice was a little shaky. “Yeah. I… I’m here for the snake eye piercing.”

Se-Mi’s smile grew just a fraction wider, her lips curving up in a way that made your stomach flutter. “You’ve got good taste,” she said, her eyes glinting as she motioned for you to take a seat. “Ready for this?”

You nodded, but inside, you were anything but ready. The air felt thicker this time, charged with the underlying tension from your last encounter.

As you sat in the piercing chair, Se-Mi moved closer, her body leaning over you as she set everything up. The scent of her cologne mixed with the sterile smell of the studio, and you couldn’t help but notice the way her hands brushed against your skin as she prepped for the piercing.

“Okay,” she said, her voice a little softer now, a little more intimate, as she cleaned the area around your lip. “This one’s going to sting a little more than the last one.”

You nodded, your heartbeat quickening as you tried to keep your breathing steady. The proximity between you two felt intense, and the memory of that kiss—the softness of her lips, the heat of the moment—seemed to hang in the air like a shadow. You didn’t know if you should bring it up, if it was even worth mentioning. The awkwardness of the situation made it hard to think clearly.

Se-Mi’s fingers hovered over your lip, and you swore you could feel the electricity crackling between you as she looked into your eyes, her expression serious for just a moment. “You’re sure you want this?” she asked, her voice quiet, a little too soft.

You met her gaze, feeling the weight of the question, of everything that had happened between you two. For a brief second, it felt like the world around you stopped. You couldn’t deny that there was something magnetic, something dangerous in the way she was looking at you.

The silence between you and Se-Mi grew thick as you sat in the piercing chair, her hands moving with practiced precision as she prepped for your snake eye piercing. There was a strange kind of intimacy in the way she touched your skin, a closeness that sent shivers down your spine. She was so close, her body almost brushing against yours as she positioned herself in front of you, her eyes scanning your face with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

You felt the weight of her gaze as she wiped the area around your tongue with antiseptic, her fingers gently caressing your lips as she prepared the piercing. You swallowed hard, trying to calm the nerves that suddenly fluttered in your chest, but the air in the room felt charged. It was more than just the physical closeness—there was an undeniable tension between you two, something that simmered beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding from that kiss you’d shared at the club.

Se-Mi’s voice broke through the silence, low and steady as she reassured you. “This one’s going to sting a bit more than the last one,” she said softly, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You nodded, but your breath caught in your throat. The words didn’t make you nervous—what really made your heart race was the way she was looking at you. There was something about the way her gaze lingered on your lips, the way her fingers gently cupped your chin as she adjusted you, that made everything inside you feel tight and electric.

“Relax,” she murmured, her tone unexpectedly soothing. “You’re going to be fine. Just breathe.”

You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself, but your mind was still reeling from the kiss, from the memory of Se-Mi’s lips on yours, and from the way the chemistry between you two seemed to thrum louder every time you were close.

“Okay,” Se-Mi said, her fingers tracing the outline of your lip before she positioned the needle. “Stick your tongue out for me.”

You obeyed without thinking, the action feeling almost instinctual as you extended your tongue toward her. Se-Mi’s eyes locked on yours for a brief moment, her lips pressing together as she focused on the task at hand. The intimacy of the moment hit you all at once, the proximity between you both becoming almost overwhelming.

She was so close. You could feel the heat of her breath against your lips as she hovered over you, her fingertips brushing against the skin around your mouth. Every small movement felt deliberate, charged with something deeper.

The tension was unbearable.

And then, before you could fully prepare yourself, you felt the sharp sting of the needle as Se-Mi pierced your tongue. A soft whimper escaped your lips as the pain radiated through your mouth, your whole body tensing from the sudden sensation. The sharp discomfort mixed with a strange sense of pleasure, a rush that made your head spin.

Se-Mi’s eyes flickered up to meet yours immediately, her gaze intense. “It’s okay, just breathe,” she said, her voice much softer now, almost as if she was aware of the sound that had slipped from you. There was something undeniably intimate about it—the way she was so close, the way her eyes softened just slightly as she watched you.

You couldn’t help but notice the way her lips parted slightly, her focus not just on the piercing but on you—on your reactions. It was as if she was studying you, waiting for the next shift in your expression. You could feel the heat in your face, your chest tight from both the pain and the strange way her attention made you feel.

As she adjusted the needle for the second part of the piercing, you whimpered again, the pain making your body tense up. But this time, Se-Mi’s fingers brushed against your lips in a way that made your heart skip. She didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she lingered there, as if savoring the moment.

“Almost done,” Se-Mi whispered, her voice low and unexpectedly tender.

You nodded, your tongue still extended, your body still trembling slightly from the intensity of the experience. But what lingered in your mind wasn’t just the pain—it was the way Se-Mi’s eyes had locked on yours, the way she seemed to be taking in every detail of you. It was the way her fingers had brushed against your skin, the warmth of her touch making your heart race.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Se-Mi finished the piercing. She slowly withdrew the needle, her fingers gently adjusting the jewelry in place. Your breathing was heavy, the pain still lingering but fading as the piercing settled.

Se-Mi moved back slightly, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, as if evaluating the change. There was something different in the air now, something thick and unspoken between you two. She reached for a small tissue and gently dabbed at your lips, her fingers lingering longer than necessary as she wiped away the trace of blood.

“You did great,” she said, her voice soft but with a hint of something deeper in it now, something you couldn’t quite place.

But as she looked at you, you realized it wasn’t just the piercing that had shifted between you two. It was the connection—unspoken, undeniable—that you couldn’t ignore anymore.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice a little shaky, still caught in the whirlwind of emotions and sensations. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what you were feeling—pain, relief, and something else entirely, something that made your pulse quicken.

Se-Mi’s gaze didn’t break from yours as she handed you a small mirror to examine the new piercing. You took it, but your hands were trembling slightly, not just from the aftereffects of the piercing but from the way Se-Mi was watching you. It was as if she could see straight through you, like she knew exactly what you were thinking, what you were feeling.

The room felt too small now, the air too thick, as Se-Mi hovered over you, the aftermath of your piercing session still lingering. Her fingers had just finished securing the jewelry in place, but it was clear that something else was hanging in the air, something more potent and undeniable. You could feel her presence radiating toward you, and the space between you two seemed to shrink with every breath you took.

Se-Mi leaned against the counter beside you, her eyes never leaving yours. You didn’t need to look at her for long to know what was coming. You had hoped she wouldn’t bring it up—but you knew she would. The kiss.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and for a moment, the dominant energy she gave off was overwhelming. There was no softness in her gaze now, no question about it—this was not the Se-Mi you had known before. This was the one who commanded attention, who knew exactly what she wanted, and she was looking right at you as though she was daring you to say something.

“About that kiss…” Se-Mi’s voice was steady, almost too calm, like she was savoring the control she had over the moment. The words hung in the air, thick with the tension that had been building between you two since the first time your lips met.

You hesitated, biting your lip as your mind raced. That kiss had been so impulsive, so reckless, but now, in this charged atmosphere, you could feel the weight of it. You could feel the heat of Se-Mi’s gaze on you, the way her presence filled the room, making it impossible for you to look away.

“You think it was just about making your ex jealous, don’t you?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she was reading you, seeing right through the facade. “But I don’t believe that. Not for a second.”

You swallowed hard. She was right. It hadn’t been just about your ex—it had been about something else, something deeper that you couldn’t quite name.

“I—” Your voice faltered as you tried to explain, but Se-Mi wasn’t interested in hearing any excuses.

She stepped closer, the movement deliberate, the space between you two shrinking as she towered over you. Her gaze locked onto yours, her presence commanding. There was nothing gentle in the way she looked at you now—just pure, unrelenting focus.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Se-Mi interrupted, her tone low, almost dangerous. “You kissed me because you wanted to. Don’t try to lie to yourself.” She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your skin. “And now… I think you want something more.”

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity. You felt your pulse race, your heart hammering in your chest as your body betrayed your thoughts. You knew what she was implying, and the way she was looking at you—no, the way she was claiming you—made it impossible to ignore what was happening.

Se-Mi was right. You wanted more. You wanted her.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. All you could do was stare back at her, your body tense, your breath shallow as her proximity consumed you.

“You wanted to make him jealous, but now,” Se-Mi’s voice dropped lower, laced with dark amusement, “you’ve got me wondering if you want to make me jealous.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your lips parting slightly as you tried to process what she was saying. But Se-Mi didn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, her hand shot out, gripping your chin with firm fingers, tilting your face upward.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. But I think it’s time we finish what we started.” Her tone left no room for argument. It was clear that this wasn’t a question anymore. She was in control.

Before you could react, Se-Mi pulled you forward by your chin, her lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was demanding, hungry, and she made sure you felt every bit of it. Her tongue slid into your mouth, bold and forceful, taking control of the kiss as though she owned it—and you.

Your hands instinctively reached for her arms, your fingers digging into the muscles of her forearm as her body pressed closer. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the heat radiating off of her, her chest pressed against yours, making it impossible to ignore how badly you needed her.

Se-Mi pulled away, her lips just a hair’s breadth from yours. She stared down at you with an intensity that sent a wave of heat rushing through you. “You like this, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice thick with dominance. “You like the way I make you feel.”

You nodded instinctively, your breath ragged as your body reacted to the dominance in her voice. She was right. Every second with her felt electrified, like she was pulling at every nerve in your body, forcing you to feel everything all at once.

With a sudden, decisive movement, Se-Mi gripped your waist and spun you in the chair, forcing you to face the mirror. “Look at yourself,” she commanded, her voice low and stern. “You’re a mess, and I haven’t even started yet.”

You glanced at your reflection, seeing yourself in a new light. Your lips were swollen from the kiss, your cheeks flushed with heat, and your eyes… they held the same hunger that Se-Mi’s gaze did.

When you turned to look back at her, Se-Mi’s expression was a mix of satisfaction and something darker, something more possessive. She stepped closer again, her hands moving to your shoulders as she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your body trembled at her touch, the tension between you both unbearable. You didn’t want her to stop. You wanted more—wanted her to claim you, to make you hers completely.

And Se-Mi seemed to know exactly how to do that.

Se-Mi’s gaze sharpened, her expression hardening as she took a step back, assessing you with a look that left no room for defiance. The air between you two crackled with intensity as she stood tall, her body language exuding authority.

“Sit back down,” she commanded, her voice firm, almost cold. “I haven’t finished yet.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the force in her tone. There was no mistaking her intent. She wasn’t asking; she was telling you, and the power behind her words sent a shiver down your spine. Without thinking, you obeyed, moving quickly to sit back in the chair where she had initially positioned you, your body already betraying you with the pulse of anticipation.

Se-Mi didn’t waste any time. As soon as you were seated, she moved closer, her body encroaching upon yours in a way that felt deliberate, as though she was making sure you understood who was in control.

“Good,” she murmured, her voice laced with authority and a hint of satisfaction.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched you with an intensity that made your heart race. There was no hesitation in her movements as she shifted to her knees, her posture predatory and confident. She reached for the hem of your skirt, her fingers brushing against the fabric with purpose, her gaze never leaving yours.

“Always playing coy,” she murmured, her voice low and laced with a hint of amusement. She tugged at the fabric with a firm motion, the sudden action pulling the skirt down, leaving you exposed to her gaze. The way she looked at you made your breath hitch—there was no mistaking her control, no room left for doubt.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp, the feeling of her hands so close to your skin sending a shiver down your spine. Semi leaned in just enough for you to feel her breath against your ear, the proximity causing your pulse to quicken.

“Is this what you wanted?” she whispered, her voice dripping with both challenge and satisfaction.

Se-Mi’s eyes glinted with something darker as she stood in front of you, her posture exuding dominance. She had moved with such deliberate precision, and now, with your skirt tugged down, the air between you felt charged, suffocating with the weight of her presence.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out—your breath caught in your throat as her gaze never wavered from you. The silence between you two felt thick, like something was waiting to snap.

“Fuck I’ve wanted you since I first saw you walk through that studio” her voice low and hungry.

Her lips curled into a smirk, her eyes dark with intent. She took a step closer, her movements slow, measured, and with each step, the distance between you two seemed to disappear.

“You’re not going to ignore me now, are you?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Answer me.”

You stayed silent, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment to speak, the words locked in your throat. Your pulse quickened as she leaned in just enough for you to feel the heat of her breath against your ear.

Se-Mi’s hand shot out suddenly, gripping your chin with firm fingers, forcing you to look directly into her eyes. “I asked you a question,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You’re going to answer me, or I’ll stop right here.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. The threat was clear, but it was the way she said it—the unyielding certainty in her tone—that made you freeze.

Her grip tightened slightly, a warning, and she leaned in just enough to make sure you heard her clearly. “Tell me. What do you want?”

The pressure in the air was unbearable. You swallowed hard, your thoughts a jumbled mess as you tried to process everything, but her presence, her control over the situation, left you with no choice but to answer. You couldn’t risk her stopping.

“I want you,” you breathed out, your voice barely audible, but it was enough. The words, the truth, were out in the open now.

“That’s what I like to hear.” She smiles at you , sending you through a whirlwind of emotions. You were in a daze, trying to process that this was actually happening, you? Getting fucked by this hot piercer? No way. You were caught off guard when she shoved her fingers into you.

You bite back a moan, holding your hand to your mouth

“No princess, let me hear you” she gawks as she snatches your hand away and continues thrusting her fingers into you, her cold jewellery adding to the sensation.

“S-Se-mi…” you gasp, your voice shaky.

She cuts you off, her tone sharp yet commanding. “Enough. Let me take care of you,” she says, her eyes never leaving yours. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” She then latches her mouth onto your clit without warning, navigating and exploring into you and she continues to scissor her fingers into you roughly.

Is that a tounge piercing?

Tears start to spill from the corners of your eyes from stimulation , it just felt too good. She looked up at you with her beautiful brown eyes, maintaining eye contact and she indulged into you.

She was so experienced. She flicked her tongue skillfully across your cunt, capturing all segments of flavour in her tongue and savouring the taste. She occasionally presses kisses into your thighs admiring all aspects of your body “you taste so sweet~” she says seductively, making you just want to jump and kiss her.

She curls her finger into you , hitting your g-spot leaving you to rip out loud moans into this echoey room.

“I’m gonna-“

“I can feel you tensing around me,cum for me princess” and upon hearing her sweet words. You came on the spot, your sticky arousal coming out and leaving a trace on the chair, on semis face and on her fingers.

She slowly licked her lips, her eyes locking onto yours. “For someone so feisty, you surprisingly taste sweet,” she remarked, her voice still calm but laced with an unmistakable edge.

You found yourself unable to meet her gaze, a flush creeping up your neck as you shyly looked away, the heat of the moment overwhelming you.

She smirked, her tone darkening just slightly. “But I’m not finished with you yet. You still owe me.”

You looked at her dumbfounded, unsure of what to do and how to please her “don’t look so confused now princess, you heard what I said so get to work.” She said feistily and all you could do was obey her.

You pull her into a hot kiss while her hands snake up to your neck, choking you lightly as she deepens the kiss, your tongues gliding across each other in a messy manner. This kiss was fully of urgency, something dark. Your new piercing in your mouth arousing her.

You then go down caressing her body and leaving occasional pecks to place such as her collarbone and side. You stare at her body for a second, staring in anticipation , you’d never done this to a girl before. “what are you waiting for?” Semi bellowed commandingly. You decide to just do what you possibly can and rip the jeans that once adorned her legs off.

You move through the layer and finally meet with her cunt. You place little kitten licks on her cunt which cause little whimpers to leave her mouth, you eventually start using longer tongue movements and suck on her clit just like she did to you and teasingly bite her clit which makes her even louder than before “you wanted me to do this aswell right?” You say teasingly and seductively “just shut up” she says, biting back moans to not let her nonchalant image crumble. Her hips buck into your mouth and she fists your hair from behind, harshly dragging it to her clit as she reaches down to grope your tits.

Her breath came in quick, uneven gasps, her hands gripping you tightly as the tension in the air she rode out her high . Her body trembled slightly, her eyes closing as she let out a soft moan of satisfaction. The intensity of the moment lingered between you two, a shared, unspoken understanding that filled the room with heat.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, her voice low and full of admiration. Her gaze softened as she held you, her hands gently guiding you closer as you collapsed against her, the warmth of her body wrapping around you in the aftermath.

After the intensity of the moment, the atmosphere between you and her softened. There was a quiet stillness in the room now, the heavy air of the moment slowly dissipating. Semi, still a bit breathless, reached for a nearby towel, her movements smooth and deliberate.

Without a word, she gently wiped you down, her touch careful as she made sure you were comfortable. Her eyes flickered to yours, a silent understanding between you two as she continued. There was something soothing about her actions, an unspoken tenderness in the way she moved.

Once she finished with you, Se-Mi stood, her posture still commanding, yet there was a softness in her expression. She handed you a fresh towel, her lips curving into a small smile. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, but no less genuine.

You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you two. The act of cleaning up was simple, but it carried with it a sense of care and connection, as if it was a small but important gesture after the intensity you had just shared.

The next morning, you sat at a café with Eunji, trying to act like everything was normal. But inside, you were anything but. You kept replaying the events of the night before, the way Se-Mi’s gaze had held yours, the unexpected intensity of everything that happened. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you two, something that felt too big to ignore.

“So, what happened after the piercing?” Eunji asked, clearly curious. She leaned in, eager to hear every detail, her eyes wide with anticipation.

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain what you were feeling without giving too much away. You hadn’t even fully processed everything yourself. “It was… intense,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Like, she made everything feel… so real. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Eunji raised an eyebrow. “Real how? What do you mean?”

You paused, thinking about how to put it into words. The pull between you and Se-Mi was undeniable, but how could you explain that to your best friend without sounding completely ridiculous? “It was like… like she knew exactly what she was doing. Like she was in control, but in this way that made me feel… I don’t know, completely drawn to her.”

Eunji smiled knowingly. “Ah, I get it. You’re into her, huh?”

You sighed, nodding reluctantly. “I think I am. But I don’t know what to do about it. Everything’s so… confusing. And last night—well, it was a lot.”

Before you could say anything more, your phone buzzed on the table, breaking the moment. You glanced down, surprised to see an unknown number flashing on the screen. You hadn’t recognized the number, but there was something about it that made your stomach drop.

Eunji didn’t seem to notice, busy stirring her coffee, so you quickly unlocked your phone. A message from the unknown number appeared, and your heart raced as you opened it.

It was a video. Your mind was still spinning as you hit play, and the first few moments made your heart skip. It was a clip from the night before—your time at the piercing studio. You watched in stunned silence as the video played out, the intimate moments between you and Se-Mi playing in front of your eyes. Her gaze, the closeness, the way she’d touched you, it was all so vivid and real again.

The message beneath the video made everything feel too raw, too real.

Hey, it’s Se-Mi. I’m sorry, but you just looked too cute here.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of what you were seeing hit you. You stared at the screen, your mind racing, unsure of how to process what you were looking at. Your phone felt like it was burning in your hands, the uncertainty of the situation making it even more intense. You had to know what Se-Mi meant, what was going on, but there was no way to ask just yet.

@rayaaani

#se-mi squid game #semi x reader #se mi #wlw smut #squid game imagine #se mi squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game season 1 #squid game se mi #wuh luh wuh #kang sae byeok

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ink-stainedkiss · 1 month ago

Note

What about Saiki meeting a Reader who has pretty appearance like Teruhashi Kokomi, but has the average mindset and personality like Satou Hiroshi?

You’re Nothing Special (AKA: Perfect)

- Kusuo Saiki

Synopsis: The new student is more than Saiki expected. You are completely ordinary. Nothing about you is different or odd and Saiki loves it. He has decided he must become your closest friend, all throughout a 3-step plan.

Guys I have noticed the favoritism towards this little psychic, which I completely understand. I guess I just thought people would like my Jjk works better, but I’ve been having so much fun with your request. Anyways, this is the first “series” of Saiki I’ve made and I hope you guys enjoy it! Part 2 is in the works as I type ;)

“Regular speaking.”

Regular thinking.

Saiki Thinking.

‘Saiki Speaking.’

Your texts

Saiki’s text

Warnings: None. Although Saiki does act tad bit obsessed about you.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pt.1 ᯓ★ Pt.2

The school was buzzing with anticipation. Whispers flooded the hall of the new girl in school. They wondered if she would be popular or just another extra wandering the halls.

“I hope she’s hot.”

“I’m betting she’ll be a nerd.”

“She won’t be as pretty as me.”

“Maybe she’ll join the math club?”

“Shut up geek.”

Yes, the campus was very excited to see their new classmate. Except for a certain psychic. I really couldn’t care any less. And Saiki meant it. A new student meant another headache Saiki had to endure and it was wishful thinking to hope they didn’t create any sort of problem. As Saiki’s luck would have it, the new girl was moving into his own class.

“Buddy!” An overly loud voice shouted, making Saiki let out an audible sigh,”Have you heard about the new girl?” The big oaf, Nendo, slid his way to Saiki’s desk, carrying along Saiki’s other pain,”I heard that she’s quiet and shy, so I bet you when she gets a look at The Jet Black Wings, she’ll fall into my arms.” Or she’ll run and find the nearest psychologist.

Saiki was so tired of these two, but they clung to him even if he wasn't particularly kind to them. Although, they were both extremely out of the ordinary and they could make perfect distraction. It was as if a lightbulb had flicked on his head, ‘You should go for it.’ Kaidou and Nendo whipped their heads around, astonished by Saiki’s proposition.

“Woah, are you being serious?” Kaidou questioned,”I thought you would call me an idiot or something.” Nendo scratched his neck, a bit freaked out by his buddies' words,”I mean, if Saiki is saying that, then I would listen to him.” Like a flipped switch, Kaidous' unsureness washed away and he was standing confidently with his chest puffed out,”Yeah, I will. Thank you for your wise words, my closest friend.” Good grief. Now you’re just making it weird.

Kaidou marched back to his seat, leaving only Nendo to watch the blue-haired boy pridefully. He looked down, tossing a large thumbs up at the psychic,”You’re a great friend Saiki, I’m so proud.” A tear slipped from Nendo’s eye and Saiki truly couldn’t believe Nendo was a human who walked earth. As he walked to his seat, he slapped his hand on Saiki’s back, and while he could just teleport to the side to avoid his hand, the class was too crowded, so he miserably had to accept the pat.

Eventually the class settled down, everyone in their respective seats. As soon as the bell rang, the teacher clapped grabbing everyone’s attention,”I’m sure you have all heard of the new student,” this caused a small chatter to start, but the teacher continued anyways,”Well, lucky for you guys, she is moving into our class,” Moving towards the door, Saiki’s teacher motioned to it,”Come on in!”

A deafening silence fell over each student, everyone holding their breath as the girl began to walk in. Saiki couldn’t deny his own anticipation, but he was much more toned down. When you finally came into view, Saiki wanted to disappear, teleport out of the school, because there was no way you were going to bring anything good. You stood before the class and Saiki was the only one who could see the tiny golden ring of light embracing you. It wasn’t as blinding as his, or Teruhashi’s, but it was still there.

Those around him let out gasps, because, even if Saiki didn’t want to admit it, you were beautiful. Great. She’ll most likely join Teruhasi’s group or become her enemy. Either way, I want nothing to do with it. His classmates' thoughts made it worse, each of them annoying the psychic more and more.

She’s so hot, but not as much as my goddess.

I can already tell she’s going to love her knight, Jet Black Wings.

What time is lunch again?

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to everyone?” The teacher suggested. You nodded, stating your name,” Um, I hope we all get along,” This intrigued Saiki, just a bit, but his interest was caught nonetheless. The teacher let out an awkward laugh at your bland answer,”Why don’t you tell the class about why you moved here?”

You shrugged,”It’s nothing special, they just moved here because of my moms job and this school was a good option.” The teacher was obviously trying to get more information out of you,”Right and any fun facts about yourself?”

Taking your time, you conjured a few,”I have a pet cat at home and I like to bake.” The teacher's jaw dropped, how can she be so ordinary? They thought,”Do you have a favorite class? At least?” You nodded shortly,”Science is pretty fun.”

The class was so confused. You were so pretty, but so boring. On the other hand, Saiki was having a very good epiphany. There’s nothing weird about you. No odd fascination or addiction. You hadn’t moved to a different school for being a bad student. You don’t play make believe and you don’t seem dumb.

The teacher had dismissed you to your seat and it was then that Saiki realized what you were. You’re not anything special, you’re ordinary. Perfect. A while ago, Saiki had found someone like you, but sadly for him, Hiroshi thought Saiki was too odd to be friends. But you were going to be his redemption. Maybe today the universe was on his side, because you strolled up and sat right next to him. Maybe Saiki was going to enjoy school from now on.

—

The psychic had curated a three day plan on how to become your friend and at the most, your closest friend. Because of your normal introduction, no one spoke about you. The excitement from a few hours ago was gone. Whenever someone asked who hadn’t seen you yet, they waved them off, saying something like,”Don’t even worry about her, she’s like the boringest person here.”

And Saiki adored it. The more people ignored you, the more valuable you became. The word some would describe Saiki as at this time, is obsessed, but how could he not be? Everyday he wished for someone to come along that had no interesting traits about them and you were that person. So the next day, he began the first step to his plan. 1. Prove that Saiki can be kind.

Kind was a bit of a stretch, but he couldn’t be mean to you, even if he tried. He was going to have to play it friendly. The downside to you being normal, meant that nothing problematic happened in your life. So as Saiki sat next to you, waiting for a chance to show you his kindness, no opportunity came forward. You were just taking notes like a normal human. Which Saiki would usually gush over, but he had more important plans. He glanced at your desk, noticing the extra highlighter resting near your notebook. He knew you weren’t going to accidentally hit it, so he took matters into his own hands. Someone has to do it.

Saiki focused on your highlighter, using his telekinesis to pull it closer and closer to the edge of your desk, until it fell onto the floor. People turned their heads, but when they saw you, they didn’t seem to care and turned back. The psychic saw you turn and before you could reach down and pick it up, Saiki was already lifting it from the ground, handing it to you,”Oh, thank you.”

Your short and simple response almost made Saiki forget to answer you, ‘It’s not a problem.’ And that was it, you turned back to your work and left Saiki alone. Little did you know, you were putting that boy in a trance. You barely interacted with him and Saiki was starting to smile.

There was a tiny setback in Saiki’s plan, but he didn’t seem to notice. His first course of action was to prove he was a nice person, but he only spoke to you once, so you didn’t have a great impression of him, just that he had manners. Still, Saiki couldn’t see a problem and left you alone the rest of the day. Well, he searched for you in the halls and the cafeteria, but he would never mention that.

—

The next step was to grow in proximity together. Only sitting with you in one class wasn’t enough time to create a good friendship, so he had to use the resources around him. Like the new duo project assigned by the teacher.

“And Saiki you will be paired with the new girl.” The teacher called out, lifting the two slips of paper they had pulled out of a bowl. Okay, so Saiki may have used his hypnosis ability to make your name appear on the slip, but it’s all in good nature. How else am I supposed to get closer if you’re stuck with some idiot?

After hearing this, you turned to the boy next to you,”I guess we’re stuck together, huh, Saiki?” The psychic couldn’t believe it. You knew his name. You were speaking to him, making jokes, maybe he actually had a chance this time. He gave a soft smile, nodding, ‘I don’t mind it.’

The teacher kept going on about the partner and you turned to him, pulling out your phone,”Here, we can swap contacts to plan a get together.” It was music to Saiki’s ears and he happily accepted your suggestion. Once he put his name into the contact, the bell rang out, making the students around you two stand and exit the class. He passed you back your device, watching as you stood,”Well, see you later, Saiki.”

You gave him a small wave and faded into the crowd of students. My plan is going better than expected.

—

Saiki sat in the lunchroom, surrounded by his group of annoyances, but rather than spending his time listening to the exasperating conversations between Nendo and Kaidou, or over hearing the drooling thoughts of Teruhashi’s goons, his attention turned to his phone buzzing on the table. When he flipped it over, he was surprised to see your name in the notification. It was you. His food was abandoned quickly and he typed back.

Hey, do you have anything going on this weekend?

No I do not, would you like to study together at that time?

It’s like you read my mind lol

Saiki gave half of a smile. If only you knew.

Anyways, yeah that sounds good, does Saturday work for you

Any day works for me, so yes.

Okie dokie my mom already suggested for you to come to my house, so if it’s fine with you, I wouldn’t mind us working there.

Saiki’s smile grew bigger, this had to be a dream. You were inviting him over to your house.

It sounds perfect.

Great! I’ll see you tomorrow :)

Great indeed. It was a good thing Saiki had an extreme amount of patience, or else he might’ve asked to see you after school, but no. Good things come to those who wait. And this reward was most definitely going to be worth the wait. It might even be on the same level as coffee jelly.

Until Saturday…

#writers on tumblr #x reader #fanfic writing #@ink-stainedkiss #fluff #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki fluff #saiki k #kusou saiki #psychic kusuo #saiki k x reader #bros a cutie patootie #psychic #viral #fanfic #saiki kusuo

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churipu · 1 year ago

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JJK MEN & THEIR SLEEPYHEAD GF !

featuring. toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, choso x fem! reader

warnings. absolutely nothing

note. anon, first of all, again, i'm so sorry i accidentally put your post up in the queue list when it was unfinished and the pen symbol wasn't there so i screenshotted this before deleting the og post. i hope this post comes to find you by itself :(( second of all, thank you for liking the first part, means a lot to me <33 last of all, hope you enjoy this one!

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he's the kind of person who doesn't mind having a sleepyhead gf, in fact he'll gladly sleep with her no matter what time or place. he'll just look and then you're asleep, all of a sudden he's asleep too.

people find it odd how you and him are able to just doze off anywhere, especially toji being a pretty "busy" man. would ditch his work sometimes just to have a nap with you, and i feel like he's the type of guy who would use you like a bolster when you both sleep. so you just lie there, arms by your side — while he on the other hand, is all up on you, holding you close to him.

sometimes toji would chuckle upon seeing you asleep at the most random time and places, in a diner, in a fast food restaurant, in the park standing up (and you woke up because apparently a kid bumped into your leg), just anywhere. he finds your sleepy habit quite interesting really.

"toji... 'm tired."

"when're you not, hm?"

he absolutely loves it when you just clung onto him like a koala for a nap, makes him feel proud (oh and i feel like he's the type of person who would take pictures if you sleep with your mouth open with a string of drool coming out of your mouth, he says that it's adorable. you don't think so though).

YUUTA OKKOTSU. yuuta is just so adorable. i feel like he gushes out a lot when you fall asleep on him, like he will silently fawn over you but at the same time he doesn't know what to do. should he let you be? wake you up so you could sleep in a more comfortable place? or carry you to the said comfortable place?

he just ends up waking you up because of how fidgety he is, "yuuta?"

"i'm so sorry, did i wake you up? sorry.."

honestly, you don't even care about the whole wake up thing. you just wanted to sleep so you always end up latching onto his side like a baby, "five more minutes."

it's never five minutes, longest is twelve hours. although yuuta doesn't mind — he even joins you for a bit, and if he has to go, he will make sure you're tucked in well and comfortable with a pillow fort he built just for you incase something (the monsters comes for you) happens.

CHOSO. i feel like he gets confused at first to why you're always falling asleep near him, he even asked this "Google" to that — and Google did not in fact help, but instead drove him into a state of panic because it told choso that you were dying. so when you fall asleep the next time, choso wakes you up almost immediately.

"don't die on me."

you didn't know what he was talking about and assumed that he was just messing around so you closed your eyes, and he had a full blown breakdown because he thought you were actually dying.

but when you told him it's because you feel safe to sleep near him, he's never been so much happier. and whenever you fall asleep, he always has a blanket ready for you both. so here's how it goes, you fall asleep and lean your head on his shoulder, he drapes the blanket over the both of you, he leans his head onto your head and falls asleep.

you both always end up in such an uncomfortable position after (either with your hand or foot in his face, or vice versa), but you guys never cared, at least the sleep was good.

"cho, get your foot out of my face before i bite them off clean."

"'m sorry, it just happens."

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #fluff #toji fluff #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk toji #choso #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso kamo #female reader

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phone4pills · 2 months ago

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MAKE A WISH Chris x waitress!Reader

not proof read, long ass, don’t try if you’re lactose intolerant, london slander, send me asks about this pairing

The lone boy entered the diner, the doorbell above the sticker-loaded door ringing upon his arrival. He’d seen the bright ‘open’ sign above it on his way down the street. It was a particularly cool evening and he could’ve used a milkshake.

Finding a seat in one of the empty booths, he pulled his hands out of the pockets of his cargo trousers, opened the menu and instantly found the Shakes section. Listed were the flavours, each one as appealing as the last to Chris, who had quite the sweet tooth.

S’mores, Cherry Vanilla, Strawberry Shortcake, Oreo Cheesecake and Banana Split.

He couldn’t help but lick his bottom lip, already salivating at the thought of the S’mores shake in the huge glass, topped with whipped cream and stacked with delicious treats. Chocolate and marshmallows, as well as graham crackers and maybe even a couple sprinkles. Gosh, he was hungry.

“You know staring at the menu isn’t going to do much for your hunger. Trust me, used to do it all the time. Never worked.” His eyes peered up to be met with a distinct pair of large, pretty eyes staring back down at his under raised eyebrows. “Really?” He laughed, placing the menu flat on the table and turning his full attention to her. She nodded, pulling her notepad out of the back pocket of the light wash jeans that she had on. Her torso was clothed in a red shirt with the word ‘LONDON’ in large, pink letters on the front and her neck upwards was adorned with jewellery.

“London. You ever been?” Chris asked, eyeing the lettering on her baby-tee with a curious gaze. The girl looked down at the word painted across her chest for a split second, as though she had forgotten it was on her shirt. “Oh, yes. London, Kentucky.” His head tilted slightly before he nodded. “Right, right.”

“So, what can I get for ya…” The end of her sentence hung in the air and at that point Chris realised he hadn’t really introduced himself. He quickly told her his name and picked up the menu to relocate what he wanted. “I’d like a S’mores milkshake.” The girl scribbled down the order with immense pace and her head lifted again, redirecting her sight to Chris. “Anything else?”

He shook his head, closing the menu and placing it back in the holder. “No. That’ll be it.” Despite her confusion, the waitress shrugged her shoulders and offered him once last glance before departing on the words, “Suit yourself.”

Ten minutes fled by, all of which Chris spent scrolling through his camera roll of that day, attempting to decide which of the pictures he would post on his instagram. His brothers had texted him, wondering where he’d gone off to. He read their message, unable to find the care to respond. They knew he was alive with a phone, that was enough.

She returned with the gigantic shake in hand, carrying it with a delicate ease that drew Chris’ eye. He licked his lips when the girl placed the sweet treat on the table in front of him. She leaned on the booth across from him, cleaning down her hand on the pink apron that clung to her waist. “I’m y/n by the way, you forgot to ask.”

A heat rose to the boy’s cheek faster than a cheetah pouncing on its prey. She giggled, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it, usually people don’t ask. Just thought it would come in handy if m’gonna keep talking your ears off.” Chris nodded, taking a sip of the drink through the thick, glass straw. He found sweet and savoury flavours pouring into the canvas between his lips like warm paints from the palettes of a marvellous artist. His blue eyes lit up, only getting delighted in contrast to the dark curls that fell over his forehead, caressing his brows that were almost as dark.

She grinned, already used to this kind of reaction. One glance around was all it took for her to take a seat across from him, taking a quick, self-approved break from her job to talk to the cute boy she’d met. “So Chris, anything special that brings you here?” He nodded, swallowing the thick shake in his mouth, savouring the flavour that dripped down his throat like a spiky fountain. “S’my birthday today.” Her eyes widened, wondering why he was all alone.

“You celebrated with anyone today?” She hoped he’d say yes, even give a nod. She’d have hated to spend her birthday alone, and Chris seemed like a fun guy to be around, surely he couldn’t have spent his special day without anyone. “Yeah, with my two brothers. We’re triplets.”

“That is so cool. Are you the youngest?” She leaned closer. As if she weren’t already intrigued by Chris, now she had an even better reason to be absolutely fascinated. He gave her a nod, licking the whipped cream off the top of the shake. “How did you know?” She chuckled, using her thumb to wipe the whipped cream off his nose.

[Person change]

In that very moment, time seemed to slow as you locked eyes. You could feel Chris’ breaths on your face, that was only inches from his. You peered down at his lips, pink and plush as they were, you knew kissing them was the last thing you could do freely. You knew nothing about him. Was he even single? He couldn’t be with a pretty face like that. Was he into girls? Was he into you? You cleared your throat, quickly shuffling back into your seat. “Usually kids order the S’mores shake.”

Chris took a deep breath, as though he’d felt the heat of the moment too and needed to come back down from whatever cloud the two of you were riding. “Are you callin’ me a kid?” You quickly shook your head, explaining that you only felt a bubbly, youthful energy around the boy. His cheeks were still blush-covered, as though he was a watercolour painting with a layer of pink tinting his face. “You know what, I should get back to work. Take your time with that milkshake, we’re open all night.”

Chris nodded, eyes panning down your figure as you made your way back towards the counter. He hated to see you go, but he loved to watch you leave. Mindlessly sipping away, Chris barely realised how much darker the sky had gotten outside. He just wanted to have a moment to himself. Being an adult was more complicated than he’d expected, even for someone like him who was lucky enough to have fans all over the world to support him and his brothers.

He thought about you. They way you were around his age and working a night job. He thought about how that could’ve been him, how that is the life of so many people his age. And he spent his night partying and having fun without a care in his mind. Without a doubt or lick of worry about how much it would cost him or how tired he’d be the next morning. And Chris was ever so grateful.

The boy was so lost in thought, he didn’t even realise the crackles in the distance, getting closer and closer. It was only the familiar giggle that snapped his from his thoughts and he turned around to find you tiptoeing in his direction, balancing a chocolate cake with candles and sparklers. Intricate assortments of sprinkles and icing swirls decorate the exterior of the homemade dessert. No way. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

You finally reached the table, placing down the large plate in front of him and the smile that adorned his face was brighter than ever. Brighter than all the candle and sparks taking place on top of the cake. “Happy birthday, Chris.”

He wanted to cry. That entire time, from the point at which you placed down the cake to the moment you sat across from him, telling him it blow out all of the candles, nothing touched him like the smile that played on your lips when you said “Make a wish!” And you made him promise not to tell anyone. You fed him little pieces, laughing as he tried to catch all of the dessert that toppled off the fork. And he didn’t think his special day could get better. But you made that possible. You made it real.

After a long night, Chris finally received the bill. He’d expected it to have a read a longer list, but it was simple.

RECEIPT

s’ᴍᴏʀᴇs ᴍɪʟᴋsʜᴀᴋᴇ… $7.29

Total cost…. $7.29

Chris thought there had to be some mistake. Surely the cake and the extra service would cost him a little more. Plus, he wanted to see her one more time. Her smile was like a composition of melodies and rhythms formulated throughout time. Passed from generation to generation, surviving century after another as though the joyous expression possessed the sought after power of immortality. As though each pearly tooth was are token of the past, a timeless treasure worth more than humanely possible to discover in the limited space which is the imagination. As though each smile line, each crease and curve was the product of every face, married together by Mother Nature in the creation of another life, another soul. And so despite her ever so distinguishable and so difficult to miss spite for it, he loved her smile as an astronomer loves his stars. He loved her smile as a philosopher loved his literature. He loved her smile as a he loved all of her.

And he was set on calling her over again until he turned over the little slip of paper to read a note.

‘ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘉𝘰𝘺. (𝟾𝟻𝟽) *** **** ’

Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack @h3arts4harry @aalixsturns

AHHHHH, this shit took weeks of effort (and Ariana grande songs). But we’re here! I reallyyy hope you guys f with this because it’s long. Anyways this is how Chris and waitress!Reader meet. Their story begins here. There will be more posted in the AU and I have more Chris AUs in my MASTERLIST. Thanks so so so much if you made it here after all of that reading, it genuinely means a lot. Please consider reposting.

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