#would like to be more like the people who inspired me to make music (will wood stomach book malice mizer) but i guess i have to make do.

[skay-ali]

The Forgotten Daughter

well I finally did it.

first of all merry christmas and enjoy the chapter

Dear family

This may be sudden... I don't even know why I'm writing this letter anymore, it was supposed to be about the big decision I made that would change my life, but even so I don't know why I'm leaving explanations.

My plan was always to never see you again, each of you, I still feel very hurt by everything, although I know that these words will not make a big change in you.

But enough berating them, I'm not racking my brain to find the right words for a letter full of complaints.

I was always a girl who avoided problems or at least I like to think I was, Father, brothers and my dear confidant Alfred, despite getting into big trouble.

The lights were flashing brightly, the music at full volume filled the room, it was very hot due to the sweat that all the bodies were emanating, you watched all the visitors of the club go crazy with euphoria after a few drinks and continued with a long list of crazy things, you On the contrary, you decided that it was one of those depressive days, where you spent your time seeing the bad side of everything and being miserable.

You didn't follow your friends to any of their craziness; on the contrary, you stayed in a place at the bar away from everyone, along with a few glasses full of a low-grade cherry-flavored liquor.

You still taste the light cherry flavor on your palate. There were so many liquors on the shelf, many of different sizes, appearances, names, years and strengths, you wondered if anyone ever drank them all, if there was a person who in his miserable, boring, short life provokes every liquor on the restaurant's menu. bar.

You looked away when you heard the sound of a chair being moved, you saw a man taller than yours, with a somewhat abrupt but attractive appearance. You took another sip from your glass and returned to your thoughts as you watched the people on the dance floor doing stupid things.

Or so you tried, but by discreetly observing the actions of the man near your seat, it was enough to capture your full attention, to what that guy does in his notebook with his pencil.

“What an artist,” you addressed the subject sitting one seat away from you, “what are you doing in a place as crazy as this?” You turned your gaze to the man with blue-black hair, as you watched him take a sip of his drink and draw with his pencil.

Their eyes connected when the man decided to leave his world and pay attention to your beginning of interaction, he couldn't look away in time, although you didn't blame him, you did the same before because of the curiosity you felt when he saw him, you felt like everything was coming together.

He paused, just him and you, as if the two of you were the only ones in a large room of strangers.

A smile left your lips when you saw the man's dazed attitude, he was so lost in himself that it seems that he forgot about your beginning of conversation until a moment later.

Still, you were afraid that it wasn't nerves that the man was feeling but anger or annoyance at your interaction with him.

“Even if you don't believe it, inspiration can be found in unlikely places… Or even sometimes a muse” came those calm words from his thick but reassuring and animated voice.

You were relieved to hear him speak, but those words that had no sign of annoyance or complaints.

“uhh it's like that... I only saw this place as a garbage dump full of vices” you didn't know how you were still trying to maintain an interaction with that person, perhaps prolonging the feeling of company instead of the one of loneliness sounded more attractive.

“You should look at it from other perspectives, so you'll find things like this” you saw him tear a page out of his notebook without blinking and put it on your forehead.

You were surprised to see your drawing on the paper. Every feature of yours delicately captured with each stroke of the pencil on the paper.

“wow you left me speechless for a moment” you disconnected your gaze from the sheet you had in your hands.

“You are actually a great artist” the drawing was extremely beautiful, you never considered yourself a very beautiful woman, it was common for you to see all your flaws before your best qualities, seeing that paper where you felt that in that drawing you were perfect caused you a feeling emotion and a passing confidence.

However, you couldn't get it out of your head to see yourself drawn in other ways on paper, like a cartoon or Japanese version of yourself; before this moment, you never even had the chance to sit on a bench and wait for an artist to draw you. .

“What's wrong with that face, you look disappointed, maybe you're kidding me” you heard him joke.

“No no… no… on the contrary, I really like it” you quickly defended yourself, afraid of offending the man.

“It's just that..” you felt shy when explaining your reasons, especially when he had an attentive gaze on you.

You saw his eyes wait expectantly for your words.

“You know, the drawing is beautiful, but… even though it sounds silly, I wish I could see myself more in a cartoon or comic” you laughed nervously, after your babbling.

“ahh, are you a comic book lover or something?”

“Yes, well it's something like that” you liked to read some series in comic magazines from time to time, but you preferred mangas, you hid this preference, you weren't going to receive a few words of displeasure for that or start a debate about what genre it was.

Better, much less explain what they were if I didn't know what you were referring to.

“I think I can fix that,” the guy said with an animated and funny voice.

You watched him, fascinated, by how he held his book with enthusiasm, his hands moved quickly from one side to the other on the white sheet, the pencil was handled quickly, you could tell that he had a lot of experience with the ease with which he did it.

It was a long night, between different conversations and laughter with the new guy you met, the night became more tolerable with the man by your side.

Between drinks and meaningless talks, laughter on both sides, silly dances on the floor full of people, just two fools doing the most pathetic steps they had plus some little improvised old waltzes, it ended in a new day with two sleepless but falices talking in a viewpoint of a building that showed the entire city.

Oh, father, you don't know how enchanted I was with that man I met on one of my many outings to parties, I was stupid and childish, but I still allowed myself to dream and love.

You didn't expect to meet again with such a man with whom you managed to connect, but that's how it happened, destiny somehow led them to meet.

You liked having a new person in your circle, with whom you managed to get along so well.

From talking about his work as an artist, giving his opinion on different comics and mangas that they knew, talking about animation to becoming hoarse from speaking with so much emotion and passion with long monologues.

They visited many hidden places in the big city in their days of adventures, even if they were alleys that were not very crowded, now that you think about it, such a careless action was very crazy, but the beautiful places, with new views, like an alley full of colorful fabrics and with different designs that hung over the street, the walls of a neighborhood full of drawings with different artistic techniques, but with many bright colors, the tall buildings that showed views of the entire city.

The days of movies with crazy plots, but that had you glued to the screen to see what happened next.

The rare meals from the carts or street stalls, which they consumed without problems while they sat to observe the lights of the city or the dark sky, accompanied by silence, but the two of them together.

In that moment where the two were together and talking, you felt that they were exchanging many words of great importance to both of them, but seen from other perspectives they were nothing more than insignificant.

That's what love did, right?

And all for one crazy night where you hope to go crazy on alcohol, after sinking into a self-compose for your life.

You will never be able to forget when he gave you his name and you gave him yours... well, half of it, you admit to having lied to him, even if you regretted it, you already knew the problems they would bring you later.

Well at least that's what you thought, you had no idea of ​​the true consequences.

You only thought about the fear of telling him your real last name, that he would look for you and know who you really were, you were afraid that he would see you differently, no longer a strange girl he met in a bar, but the daughter of a millionaire with a history. questionable life, the mere thought of him using you was too much.

So you avoided him by mentioning the amazing last name “Wayne” and mentioning a fake one.

More specifically, that of your false identification, something crazy that you did in your wild adolescence was left to be useful in your future, that false identification that you made with your friends from school to visit different clubs, you used it when you became independent, so that no one It will bother you in your new life.

“_____ , _____ Jones” unsurely you stated your name, you still remember when you made the false identifications with your friends and among all of them you were looking for a new name and surname for the others, you kept your name and they gave you the last name of the protagonist of the book of fashionable at the time because of the film that adapted the story.

A mental chuckle caused you to remember this along with the taunts they threw at you about where your diary was.

“Kayle, Kyle Rayner,” the boy smiled as he introduced himself.

You followed his smile, something in his ended up infecting you. Just two fools in a bar telling each other their names and being ignorantly happy.

It's a shame that that happiness ended some time later, when you never saw Kyle again. Even with a card for him to contact you, you never heard from him.

You woke up happy, in his apartment, the day after spending a night together, alone, without any sign that the man was home, without any note or notice, you waited excitedly for him to return, but he never did, even when you left a message. letter and ways for me to contact you again if the ones they already had didn't work, you never knew anything.

Maybe it was all an adventure and you got carried away... they never clarified what they were, hell maybe he didn't even consider you a friend.

But you and I know, father, that all the fairy tales one creates end quickly, most of the time in the worst ways.

I ended up with a broken heart, still, I kept good memories... and her.

I know it is late, very late, as it has been for many years, but I must confess it, because no parents and siblings would want to know it in the worst possible ways….

Alice Wayne, my dear baby….

You leaned back in your chair as you wrote the last sentence, you did it, you wrote what was overwhelming you so much, the beginning of the letter.

Your eyes burned, a few treacherous tears running down your face.

Your family, your passing love and your beloved daughter always made you sensitive.

It wasn't something you could avoid.

You leaned your head on the headboard of the chair, letting all the blood flow to your head, something strange you used to do to clear your head, you looked at the ceiling and the walls around you upside down.

You noticed the crib on the side of the room near your desk where you were writing.

You saw your baby sleeping calmly, a peaceful face with no signs of discomfort, he was an angel.

Your little angel, and your light... you knew you would do anything for her, like you did right now.

I think if we are similar in some way father.

I ended up having a daughter through carelessness like you did to me.

I need to ask you a big favor father and not only of you but also of the whole family, the biggest and most important one I will do in my life.

If something happens to me... if I end up in big trouble or I no longer exist, any situation that prevents me from taking care of my beloved daughter.

Please watch over her.

Make sure she has the best future, a happy life with everything she needs, that she can grow up as a girl full of light, that she is always kind, wise and with a loving family.

If that's not something they can give you, find someone who can give it to you.

Take care of my treasure, my only happiness, my only family... I know I left a long time ago without saying anything and returned in a hurry to their lives.

Maybe one day they will call me selfish knowing the path I took to leave little Alice to them, the decision I decided to make was not easy, but I did it because I want the best for my little light.

We are all selfish and mean, I was all my life, since I knew that my happiness only depended on me, that I was alone in this world, that only oneself can save oneself.

I think I still am by thinking that I can force them to do something about my problem, I can't force them to take care of someone or take responsibility for a short period of time, turning their lives upside down.

But maybe... with all the love and affection that you could ever see felt for me, I can make you consider helping me and fulfilling my difficult request.

Father, brothers and Alfred... I never said it because of all the anger I felt, because of everything that happened in the mansion, which devastated my thoughts with a lot of anger, forgetting everything I had and made me have a comfortable and pampered life.

Thank you.

Well, he's the father and maybe a future yandere, it's a possibility.

after an exhaustive investigation into possible characters to occupy this role in the series.

although there may be other possibilities with other characters....

Like I tried with the penguin's son, if ___ had decided to hang out more with villains and they adopted her or became her godparents.

Tag list: @kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213 @delias-stuff @vanilliona @bat1212 @yanrandom @Quiarst @palabra de niño salvaje @el termino @leo227 @sirenethblog @ masa para galletas @blueberry19000 @con seguridad

[outlying-hyppocrate]

I DO NOT WANT TO MAKE UKULELE MUSIC BUT IT IS WHAT I HAVE.

[ernest-shackleton]

Just talked to this cambridge prof for an hour about mimesis and music and teaching and the world and im. A new person now. My academic zeal has been restored. I've rarely felt so understood in my entire life

[veinpursuer]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[prickly-paprikash]

Kendrick doesn't just hate Drake as a person. He hates the very idea of Drake.

Hip-Hop is rooted in revolution. In defiance. These are the songs of an oppressed group of people, and decades upon decades people have hated it. Accused of being meaningless and invalid. Media outlets took steps to belittle hip-hop and make sure it isn't recognized as an art form and as a means to fight back.

2Pac spoke of wealth disparity and inequality. Tupac was literally a member of a communist organization when he was younger and never stopped speaking against capitalism.

Lauryn Hill spoke of the struggles a woman faces. Not just women, but black women. Salt-N-Peppa. Queen Latifah. MISSY FUCKING ELLIOT.

N.W.A made sure people knew about police brutality and violence against the Black community.

And now, in this day and age, we're also experiencing an explosion of Queer Hip-Hop. Lil Nas X is at the forefront of this. Lil Uzi Vert came out as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, even when they knew that a lot of their fans would never use it or even respect them for it. Auntie Diaries, a song about a young man who grew up in a transphobic environment and bought into those beliefs, but could never fully do it because his Uncle loved him so much and taught him a lot of life lessons, and that wisdom translated to him accepting his cousin as a woman as well.

Drake is none of that.

He's the perfect representation of what people think hip-hop is. Flexing. Posturing. Objectifying women. A fucker so insecure he bought 2Pac's ring just to feel like he's part of the black community. Rejected by Rihanna publicly. Tried to groom Millie Bobby Brown. Kissed and inappropriately touched an underage girl during his concert. His songs have inspired so many young boys to treat girls like shit. His belief that the amount of rings and chains and cars he has is the true meaning of success.

Additional Edit: This is my fault. If this post gains more views, then it would be remiss of me not to add to this. It was my fault to begin with, not stating this beforehand because while I did know, I got lost in celebrating Hip-Hop in a place that doesn't usually do so, and rightfully so.

2Pac did fight for wealth equality and better social living for the black community. He also has a long, long history of battery, domestic abuse, and sexual harassment against women. Specifically against women of color. He made a song to celebrate his own mother, but outright refused to give the same show of respect to other women in his life. His hypocritical nature was brushed off in later decades, just the way I did now.

N.W.A is the same. Sexual assault charges, violence—they spoke of Police reform, but refuses to give the same treatment back towards the women in their lives.

50 cent refuses to backtrack on any of his misogynistic lyrics.

Modern rappers of today, such as the dead XXXtentacion. 6ix9ine. Kodak Black.

I do love Hip-Hop. I love rap. And the music itself has always been anti-authoritarian at its core, because those are its roots. And I was happy that circles that did not normally know of it or enjoy it were getting into it, even for one thing like this rap feud.

Lil Nas X, Little Simz, Childish Gambino, Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill—rappers who have at the very least consistently tried to put their money where their mouth is. Who have tried to act in accordance to what they rap and write and sing for.

@shehungthemoon @ohsugarsims finnthehumanmp3 were the ones who rightfully clarified in the comments. I know an apology won't correct my hypocrisy or my stupidity. I should have added all of this before making this post, but I wanted so badly to celebrate a genre of music but failed to do my due diligence in showing a better, holistic view of it. If anyone felt triggered, offended, troubled, frustrated or any other intense negative emotions surrounding this, please do block me. I'm sorry.

[chirpingchorus]

chirp

(long and silly rant in tags so maybe don't open them if you're scrolling at a leisurely pace)

[pyrodolls]

hi i was wondering if you would do headcannons of the yan!fanboy if reader actually noticed him coming to all their shows and events

OBSESSED (SUPERFAN! YANDERE BOY X POPSTAR! READER)

WARNINGS: stalking, average yandere tendencies, nsfw, perverted yandere, gender neutral reader, mentions of naked reader but no genitalia addressed, dom reader, reader is compliant with the yandere and teases him a ton, lowercase intended. btw i do not condone yanderes irl.

A/N: i hope y'all know i read every single one of your asks, comments, and reblogs. i appreciate them all and they do brighten my day. i'm just saying this so y'all know that the stuff you send to other writers (not just me) matters a lot!! when you interact it gives them inspiration!!! and motivation!! me personally sometimes i see ONE kind reblog and i immediately get my ass up and start writing something just because of that one person. don't get me wrong, i still love all my lurkers that silently like a ton of my stuff, y'all are important too. anyways i'll shut up now onto the hcs. (btw this ended up being a fic instead of hcs i apologize. i went crazy over this i'm sorry anon LMAO)

"hey, you look pretty familiar. have you been to a few shows before?" you asked kindly, facing the short man in the front row of the audience.

bayani froze as the stadium's screens pointed to him. he opened his mouth in an attempt to say something, but nothing came out. his face went red and his throat went dry. did you actually notice him, or was he just dreaming?

after a few seconds of waiting for an answer, you shrugged. "sorry, maybe i mistook you for someone else. anyways..."

the yandere boy still didn't move, with his mouth agape, as you continued on with your show. the people around bayani didn't seem to care, assuming that he was just a starstruck fan. but it was more than that. much more than that.

out of the millions of fans that attend your shows and events, you recognized him among them. you noticed him. and he didn't know how to handle it. what was he supposed to say? what would you even talk about? sure, he's seen all of your interviews and heard your music and dissected your lyrics for hours every single day, but would you ever want to interact with him as much as he wanted to interact with you? he was just a lowlife. he had an average job, average amount of money, he lived in a shitty apartment, and he had no friends or major accomplishments. all of his free time outside of work was spent on you. spent on following your every move and investigating everything you've put your hands on. if you ever spoke to him, you'd probably think he was some sort of pathetic stalker.

that thought drove him mad. he couldn't even focus on the rest of your concert. he didn't hear the blaring music and screams from the crowd. he wasn't paying attention to your performance, either.

he could only stand there and imagine the punishments you'd inflict on him if you found out about his obsession. would you call your security to take him away? he'd hope not. if he's going to be kicked and pushed around, perhaps even handcuffed, he'd rather you do the job rather than some random guard. but maybe he'd accept the punishment, only because you were the one who deemed it necessary. he takes your word like gospel, so he'll take whatever punishment you want, even though he would prefer your hands on him while you do it.

his imagination ran wild as your concert finished and you walked off the stage with your dancers. the crowd of fans in the stadium dispersed around him, moving along with their day. but bayani couldn't just move on with his day knowing that you know he exists now. how is he supposed to simply move on from that? he spent a long time making sure you never noticed him. even though he attended every single one of your concerts and events, he did not want to be noticed. he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. but it finally happened. he finally got a taste of what it's like to be seen by the love of his life. he couldn't just leave it at that. he had to do something about it.

being under your gaze, even if it was only a few seconds, made him feel like he went to heaven. it made all of the hundreds of dollars he spent on you worth it. all of the hours he spent listening to your music and watching videos of you was worth it. it was like he awoke from a slumber. a long, miserable slumber. he had to find a way to thank you. say something to you. he messed up when he simply froze after you saw him. who knows when he'll get another chance like that?

it took a few hours for the stadium to be empty, and the security started to shoo bayani away. but when he went outside, the parking lot was still full. your concert ended hours ago, but there was still loads of cars trying to leave. it would be frustrating, but bayani had to find a way out quickly.

he climbed on the back of a nearby truck and rested his legs there, waiting patiently for the vehicle to move out of the traffic. even though he knew the truck wouldn't go anywhere near your mansion, he knew how to get to your house on foot. he only needed to rest on the truck until the traffic was gone.

after a few hours on the road, he jumped out of the vehicle, and started to walk to your mansion on foot. he didn't need to look up the location online, because he already knew where it was. he visited your home many times in the past, he just never attempted to go inside before.

his veins were on fire and he started to sweat the closer he got. he was starting to have second thoughts about his idea. but there was no time to go back, because he already showed up to your house before he could change his plans.

to get inside, he had to climb up a tree, jump off of it, and land in your backyard. he used that trick often in the past, since it was not his first time going to your house. he often snuck on your property to watch or take pictures of you while you slept.

he tried opening your bedroom window, but it was locked. he had to try a different one.

he went over to a window beside your bedroom, and thankfully, it was unlocked. but the moment he opened the window, he heard the sound of water running and your familiar voice humming a song. were you in the shower?

bayani climbed inside as quietly as possible, and closed the window behind him. his suspicions were correct. he was in your bathroom, and you were taking a shower. your curtains covered up your figure, so he couldn't see you.

bayani looked to the side of the room and saw a pile of your dirty clothes on the floor. he ran up to it and immediately took a large whiff at the pile. it smelled divine to him. he couldn't get enough of it. he quickly spotted your used underwear in the pile and snatched it without thinking, then he stuffed it in his pocket. you wouldn't notice, right?

before he could take the rest of your clothes, the water suddenly stopped. bayani ran to hide, in a spot where you couldn't see him but he could see you. you opened the shower curtains and stepped out with a towel in your hands. you were completely naked, and still drenched in water. bayani felt like he died and went to heaven again that day. he couldn't believe what he was seeing. you were completely naked, right in front of his eyes. ignoring the puddle in his pants, he nervously fumbled around his pockets, trying to find his phone. there was no way he could pass up an opportunity like this. without hesitation, he snapped a photo of you.

but he didn't notice that the flash was on.

he froze, and you looked towards him. neither of you said a word, and bayani saw his future flash before his eyes. you would probably scream for security and he would get taken away to prison, never to see your face again. his life would be over.

"you're the guy i've been seeing everywhere, huh?" you whispered.

"...are you going to, uh... send me away?" bayani gulped.

you thought about it for a moment. this guy clearly cared a lot about you, because you saw him literally everywhere you went. no matter what country you visited, he was always there. even if you didn't tell a single soul where you were going, he was somehow always there. you even saw him on your property a few times, so you knew how crazy he was. but you still let him do it. and you never reported him, either. you knew exactly what he wanted. you could always hear him moaning outside your window, knowing he would have one hand down his pants and a camera on the other.

he was cute, so why not have some fun with him?

"come here." you commanded. he followed your order without thinking, immediately falling down to his knees in front of you.

you grabbed his chin, and made him look up at you. he felt hot tears well up in his eyes as you stared him down. he didn't say a word, but you knew exactly what he was thinking.

you pressed your knee against the wet stain on his pants, and he let out a pathetic whimper. he was getting off on it.

he didn't know what to do. his dreams were finally coming true. he got noticed by you, got into your house, saw you naked, and you finally touched him. he was overwhelmed, and started crying. he didn't mean to look so weak in front of you for a first impression, but he couldn't help it. besides, he'd make a fool out of himself any day for you.

"you're so pathetic.. you've been stalking me for so long, and now you break into my house to see me naked. i could call the police and have you arrested..." you whispered, as you started putting more pressure on his crotch, moving your knee up and down on it, and inching your face closer to his.

he sobbed, “please, don't! i promise, it'll never happen again. i'll stop, i'll do whatever you want, i'll-"

you cut him off by connecting your lips to his, setting his heart on fire. you pulled away after a few seconds, leaving him speechless. there's no way you just kissed him. he had to be dreaming.

and then you moved your knee away from his crotch right before he could cum, making him let out a whimper and crumble to the ground.

"thanks for letting me have some fun with you. we can do this again soon.. if you be a good boy and return my underwear." you winked, walking away and leaving bayani a hard, pathetic, leaking mess on your bathroom floor.

[menagerofmischief]

Heart song (OP81)

summary: in the middle of dating rumors, current music industry hit, y/n l/n releases a love song which leaves no space to deny her relationship. -> based on this request

fc: olivia rodrigo

cw: bad language,

a/n: the only bands I listen to are a bunch of old men or a bunch of dead man, safe to say I don't know much about bands so I made her a solo artist.

liked by: oscar piastri, sabrinacarpenter, and 1,556,895 more

yourusername: something coming soon, or whatever

comments:

ynsleftshoe: oscar in the likes before me again

hooklinesinker: girl same! and I got notifications on cococroissant: the struggle of making it here before pee ass tree vrom vrom is real

ynupdates: mother is cooking and eating for real

sabrinacarpenter: so excited for it!

justonechange: the bond between two girls scorned by a man is unbreakable breakmyback: sabrina is so me right now

likealovesong: my hears are about to be blessed again! thank you god for answering my prayers

liked by landonorris and 1,345 more

f1wagupdates: seems like a new wag may be entering the paddock, showcasing papaya!

mclaren driver, oscar piastri, has been spotted being touchy and affectionate with pop star, y/n l/n. this is not the first time the two have been spotted together.

comments:

vroomyroom: what the hell is lando doing in the likes of a wag updates page

norrizzz: he's so messy fr

user454: seriously what's wrong with you people, leave them alone!

justanichident: oscar's lucky he's good that polite cat smile because those hands do be wondering

breakmyback: I too am no better than a man (I'd be touching y/n's ass all the time if I could)

user334: ow! they're so cute together!

user331: power couple vibes

user564: ew, he can do so much better

user887: SHE can do much better

liked by hattiepiastri, nicolepiastri, yourusername and 1.345.221 more

oscarpiastri: great vacation, lots of sun

comments:

macmylarens: if bwoah was an instagram caption it would be tht

rockabye: who does bro think he's fooling with that soft launch

dropstoproll: like sir, we all know that's y/n l/n, now give us some good content

landonorris: you really poured your heart out with that caption mate

ynupdates: I spy with my little eye, y/n in the likes

justonechange: so ... he's not that bad

user423: I get y/n, he's hot

liked by sabrinacarpenter, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 1.978.645 more

yourusername: Summer When Everybody Ever Thought, Love In Knowledge Existed, Yellow Orchids Unidentified

see you on august 19th ;)

comments:

ynupdates: NEW ALBUM ALERT!!!

breakmyback: I don't care if a man driving in circles for living inspired it, new music is coming!

sabrinacarpenter: that caption triggered my dyslexia

justonechange: no because same user332: I thought I was the only one!

dotsaredotting: hear me out, the aesthethic of this album is orange (so far), and there's a car, mclaren F1 team is orange ("papaya" or wtv), oscar piastri drives for mclaren, oscar is soft launching, they wore spotted together = they're dating

crazyonce: this is so delulu it may be trululu

ynupdates: in case you thought you were crazy for not getting the caption, every words starts with a capital latters and all the letters together spell SWEET LIKE YOU which is either a song on the album or the name of the album

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, hattiepiastri, and 2.021.331 more

yourusername: the way sun shines over beaches, the first taste of summer peaches, yellowed pages of a favorite book it may all be sweet but not sweet like you.

my new album, sweet like you, is now available to stream. this is such a special album for me which is why it's dedicated to such a special person. I love you, Osc, keep on being sweet.

comments have been turned off for this post

liked by yourusername, sabrinacarpenter, landonorris and 1.987.554 more

oscarpiastri: every day I'm grateful I get to have you. you're the sun of my morning, the stars of my evening, the breath of my lungs and the song of my heart. I love you, y/n.

comments:

landonorris: wow, you actually poured your heart out with this one

sabrinacarpenter: she was mine first car boy, remember that

hattiepiastri: I hope you know how much cooler than you your girlfriend is

yourusername: love you too, my sweet boy <3

comments have been limited on this post

[elllisaaa]

FOCUS ON ME - J. WONWOO

KINKTOBER DAY 12 - BONGAGE + MIRRORS

SUMMARY : you wanted to be more confident about your body and having a boudoir photoshoot seemed to be a good option. you just didn't plan that having the photographer tying you up would excite you that much.

-> pairing : photographer!wonwoo x fem!reader

-> words count : 2.2k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : bondage (obviously), mirror sex (obviously too), mentions of body insecurities, boudoir photoshoot, lingerie, praise kink, body worship, begging, fingering

+ the way i'm depicting wonwoo does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | svt masterlist | kinktober 2024

You had always struggled with your body image. Being raised by an almond mother and surrounded by people who constantly commented on your weight and appearance didn’t help either. However, you tried to get your confidence back, it was a long path, but you could feel that you were getting there. In everyday life, it was easy to be sure of yourself, but when it came to being intimate with someone else, it was still complicated. And you had enough of asking your hook ups to turn off the light, or of keeping your clothes because you couldn’t bear to see yourself in the nude. It was over, and you had decided to take big measures. 

“- So… How do you want to do that ? I’m sorry, this is a first for me.”

Wonwoo smiled at you gently despite your initial awkwardness. He was a friend of your best friend, and even if you had crossed paths with him at some hangouts, you had no idea that he was studying photography. So when you told her about your project and that she gave you Wonwoo’s number, you thought that it was perfect. Though, now that you were really about to do it, you felt a little shy. Mostly because of these insecurities that had been eating you up for years, and also maybe a little because you didn’t remember that Wonwoo was that handsome. 

“- Don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine. The bathroom is right there if you want to change, we can start whenever you’re ready. And if you feel uncomfortable at any moment, tell me, okay ?

- Okay, thank you.”

He smiled at you again, his eyes crinkling at the corner behind the frame of his glasses. You went to his bathroom to change into the lingerie set you had brought with you, taking a deep breath as you looked at yourself in the mirror. The black lace of your panties and corset were complimenting the tone of your skin perfectly, underlining your curves. You knew that you were objectively very pretty, but you still had trouble admitting it, really seeing it. And the fact that Wonwoo looked so good in his simple black pants and white tee shirt didn’t help you relax either. 

As you walked back into the room in only your underwear, Wonwoo turned to look at you, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the mostly nude state of your body. You had warned him that you wanted to do a boudoir photoshoot, but he wasn’t prepared to see you like that. He tried to not make it obvious as he pretended to be busy setting up his camera. You could already feel your cheeks grow red as you walked to the set he had prepared according to the inspiration pics you had sent to him, the fluffy white plaid laid on the floor ready to welcome you. 

“- You can get comfortable and I’ll let you tell me if you want to do a pose or something in particular, if that’s fine with you.

- Yes, that’s perfect.

- Oh, and Y/N ?

- Yeah ?

- Don’t stress, it’s gonna be alright.”

His reassuring smile and words did ease your nerves as you sat down on the blanket on the floor. In the meantime, Wonwoo had started to play some sensual music to put you in the mood. As he walked over to his camera, you decided to start out with something soft, only slightly suggestive. 

“- Okay, let’s go. If you want to take a break or to stop at any moment, just tell me.

- Yeah, thank you.”

How careful and cautious he was made you feel at ease, and as the shoot went on, you let yourself forget about what made you anxious in the first place. Your poses got more and more sensual as time went on, getting more and more confident. 

“- Perfect, you’re doing so good Y/N.”

Your cheeks were dusted in a slight shade of pink everytime Wonwoo praised you, even more so because you were now bending over, showing off the arch of your back and the curve of your ass, your eyes boring into the camera lasciviously. Wonwoo had the excuse of his camera to check you out shamelessly, but as you got bolder, it also got harder for him to hide how affected he was by the show you were putting on. 

“- Wonwoo ?”

He snapped out of his daze as you called out for him, detaching himself from his camera to really look at you, and he gulped down loudly as he tried to not let his eyes wander down. He knew why you wanted to do that, he knew about your motives, and the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable. 

“- Yeah ? 

- I had… Something else in mind. 

- Yes, of course. Tell me.”

Without any other words, you stood up and went to get something from your bag. When you turned to him again, you were holding some red ropes that left little to his imagination as to what you wanted to use them for. Wonwoo looked at the ropes in between your hands for a moment, speechless. He pushed his glasses up on his nose to try and give himself some composure. 

“- Do you… Do you need any help putting that on ?

- Yes, please.”

You started to make some of the knots yourself, and you showed Wonwoo which ones he needed to make, until your arms were tied behind your back, and your chest was covered in the red ropes to underline the shape of your breasts. Everytime his fingers brushed against your bare skin, you shivered, and you couldn’t help how much seeing him focused on tying the knots through the reflection of the mirror had turned you on. You looked at the final result and you nodded at him with a satisfied smile. 

“- It’s perfect, thank you…

- You’re welcome.”

You went to kneel down in front of the camera again, showing your tied arms and your back to Wonwoo as you turned your head back to look directly into the lens. And he had to mentally stop himself from looking at you for too long as he adjusted the angle to take the perfect shot. It was as if this had sparked up your confidence even more, and you got even bolder and seductive in your poses. It was also getting harder for Wonwoo to concentrate on his camera and not on the way he could figure out the outline of your nipples from underneath the thin material of your corset. 

“- Wonwoo ?”

Your name coming out of his mouth made it even more complicated for him to not pop a boner, but he still perked up from behind the camera to look you in the eyes.

“- Yeah ?

- Could you… Take some closer shots, if you don’t mind it.”

You saw him visibly swallow as he shook his head and took his camera in between his hands, stepping closer to you to take some focused shots of certain parts of your body. Now, it was impossible for him to not get hard as he had your ass in full display for him. 

“- Can I… Can I try something ? I think it would make it even better, if you don’t mind.”

Something darker was passing through his eyes, but you didn’t care as you nodded at him. You watched behind your bent back as he carefully let one of his hands come down to lend on your ass, his eyes locked with yours as if to be sure you were okay with it. But you only licked your lips as Wonwoo snapped one more photo of his big hand resting against your skin. Slowly, he let his hand travel to one of the ropes crossing over your back, grabbing it and taking a larger shot of your whole body bent over, his muscular and veiny forearm coming into the frame. 

“- Turn around.”

You hadn’t realized just how into it you were until his deep voice echoed again. You obeyed his command, leaning on your back and looking up at him. He was now kneeling in between your legs, his hands traveling up from your waist to the ropes around your breasts, tugging on them and making your breath hitch in your throat. He was still holding the camera, but it was like he forgot why you were here in the first place, not taking any more photos as his free hand roamed all around your body.

“- Tell me to stop…

- I don’t want you to, please Wonwoo…

- Fuck it.”

He didn’t let you any more time to think before he crashed his lips against yours in a messy and hungry kiss. Wonwoo discarded the camera to the side, nothing other than you crossing his mind as both of his hands went to spread your legs wider, caressing and groping the plush skin of your thighs. He couldn’t understand how you could not love your body when you literally looked like a goddess, when it was hard for him to contain himself when he saw you walk out of his bathroom almost naked. 

“- You look so fucking pretty, all tied up like this… I can’t tear my eyes away from you.”

His praises made a fire come alive in your veins, a whine escaping from your lips as he pulled you closer to him, pressing his boner against your sensitive clit. His lips derived from your lips to your neck, down to your cleavage and all over your body. Every spot he kissed was left burning, from your ankle to your inner thigh, so close yet so far away from where you needed him. Every little sound coming from your mouth only spurred him on, ignoring the raging boner that started to hurt to worship your body.

“- Wonwoo, please…

- You sound so good, baby… You need to see just how pretty you are.”

Wonwoo lifted you in his arms as if you weighed nothing, making you sit down in front of the full-length mirror of his living room, your back pressed against his chest. He spread your legs again, resting your thighs over his as his fingers finally brushed against your clothed core, making you exhale a shaky breath. He worked you up slowly, even if the dark spot on your panties were telling enough about how turned on you were. 

“- Look at yourself, look at how well you’re taking my fingers.”

His voice murmuring the words just against your ear made you moan just as loud as the feeling of two of his fingers pushing past your folds, stretching you out and gliding in your folds so easily. Your eyes bore into his through the reflection of the mirror, his gaze full of lust for you making you clench around his fingers. 

“- You’re doing so good for me, every inch of you is perfect.”

Every word he spoke brought you closer to the edge, and even if the ropes were starting to hurt and burn your skin, you felt too good to care. His fingers moved in the perfect way to hit your sweet spot just right, over and over again until you were a moaning mess under his touch. You could clearly see the way you were getting wetter and wetter by the seconds with your underwear pulled to the side. And you felt sexy, you felt attractive, all because Wonwoo couldn’t stop telling you that you looked perfect, that you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen, that you were being a good girl, his good girl. 

“- Wonwoo, I’m close…

- Let go Y/N, cum for me.”

Your moans became more broken as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your thighs trembling and your walls clenching around his fingers. Wonwoo slowed down his pace gradually, until you were shaking from overstimulation. 

“- Look at you, look at how pretty you are.”

You did look pretty, even though you also seemed completely gone, completely fucked out. Your chest heaved up and down with your ragged breathing. 

“- Say it. 

- I’m… I’m pretty…

- Yes, you are.”

His lips were on yours again, his glasses getting fogged up by your hot breath as he devoured your mouth in a much more tender manner than before. You chuckled as you watched him wash his glasses, and his eyes were glimmering with something else than the lust that had taken over him. Then, he detached the knots one by one, massaging your sore arms once you were free. 

“- Are you okay ?

- Yeah, it was… Amazing.”

You turned around until you were able to sit on his lap, kissing him again, as you rocked your hips against his still painfully obvious boner. The relieved sigh he let out and that you swallowed in your mouth made you smile. 

“- You want me to take care of that ?

- You don’t have to.

- Yes, but I want to. Do you ?

- Fuck… Yes, I do.”

You smirked at him as you reached for his camera, getting out of his lap to put it in his hands as you crawled in between his legs, your hand squeezing his hard on over his pants and making him groan under his breath. 

“- You can take some photos. These ones are only for you, though.”

And Wonwoo fully intended to keep them all for himself, to keep you all for himself.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

kinktober taglist (dm or comment to be added) :

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @heevllog @foxinnie8 @bewoyewo @jaderabbit-98 @lala-----------lala

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelless @leeknowinggg

[sunny44]

Passenger princess

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Secret girlfriend!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Y/n releases her new song and the guy in the music video shocks everyone.

Inspired by the song Passenger Princess by Nessa Barrett.

Yourusername Instagram post

Liked by @dualipa, @charlesleclerc, @lewishamilton and others 9183891

@Yourusername Passenger Princess next weeeek 🏁🏎️

@lewishamilton can’t wait to listen

@yourusername I think you’ll like it

@dualipa yesss queen

@user91 I’m so exited to see the music video

@landonorris nice hair

@charlesleclerc counting the days to listen

Liked by @yourudername

@user0172 we can see that the f1 drivers are Y/n’s fans

The release of the *Passenger Princess* music video was about to happen, and I felt the nerves as if it were my first project. It wasn’t just the fact that it was a new song, but the fact that my boyfriend would be in the video, and people, besides not knowing we're together, would freak out once they saw the video and realized it was him.

I still remember when I suggested the idea of him participating.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/n,” he said, laughing, as we sat on my couch. Charles always seemed to find a way to make any moment fun, even when I was being completely serious.

“I’m serious! You’d be perfect for the role,” I replied, crossing my arms, pretending to be impatient. “The song is about a girl who loves being the passenger in her boyfriend’s car. Who better for that than my boyfriend, who happens to be one of the best Formula 1 drivers in the world?”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it literally has to be your boyfriend,” he said, still laughing.

“Fine, but don’t complain after seeing me kiss and sit on some other guy’s lap in a skirt.” I said indifferently, and he immediately pulled me into his lap, kissing my face all over, making me laugh.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” He sighed, still smiling. “No one’s kissing your lips but me.”

“I knew you’d agree,” I said, and he kissed my face several more times.

“You know this is going to cause a storm, right?”

I knew. I knew the internet would go wild when they saw Charles as the lead in my video. But what they didn’t know was that Charles and I had been together for two years, and so far, no one had figured it out.

“I know, but just because you’re in the video doesn’t actually mean you’re my boyfriend. It’s just a role.”

“Alright then.”

Now, two months after we shot the video, the moment of the premiere had arrived.

The song was released last night, and people were already freaking out. Today, we were at the Monza paddock, where I’d be spending the weekend with Charles.

He was nervous, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

“Do you think they’ll notice we weren’t acting?” he asked quietly, as we sat in one of the areas reserved for the drivers, watching the preparations for the race.

I smiled.

“They’ll probably suspect and ship us because of the video, but if we don’t give any signs that we’re actually dating, they won’t be sure, love.”

Deep down, I knew the fans would go crazy. The song was already a hit, and the fact that Charles was the male lead in the video would only increase their curiosity. But our relationship had always been just ours. No speculations, no gossip.

The video was finally released, and as we stood in the Ferrari garage, surrounded by engineers, mechanics, and, of course, other drivers, I smiled as I heard my voice and looked up at a large screen where the video started playing.

I couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly how we had imagined it. Charles, next to me, shook his head with a small, restrained smile. His eyes met mine, and I could see how much he was enjoying everyone’s reaction.

The video showed scenes of the two of us, him driving a Ferrari while I sang, having fun beside him. The scenes of us exchanging knowing looks were filled with a naturalness that few could fake. Because, of course, we weren’t faking.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” Lando appeared in front of us. “How did you get Charles to do this?”

“I just thought he’d be perfect for the role and, with a lot of effort, I convinced him,” I replied, trying to keep my tone casual.

“Uh-huh, sure...” Lando muttered, glancing back and forth between Charles and me. Before he could say anything else, Pierre Gasly appeared with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Hey, Charles, since when are you an actor?” Pierre teased, giving Charles a light punch on the shoulder.

“Since Y/n convinced me to do it,” he answered, still maintaining his calm tone. But I knew how much he was enjoying this whole situation.

The confusion only grew as the day went on. The video was an instant hit, and soon, comments on social media started pouring in.

#YnCharles was trending, and theories about a possible romance between us wouldn’t stop appearing. The paddock was in constant buzz, full of journalists and fans speculating whether something was going on between me and Charles.

Charles and I exchanged discreet glances and smiles while keeping our secret. We had gone through this before, watching people try to guess what was happening between us. But we had always kept everything private, just for the two of us.

By the end of the day, as the sun set over Monza, Charles and I found a moment of privacy in the Ferrari motorhome. He pulled me into a hug, kissing the top of my head.

“So, do you think they’ll figure it out now?” he whispered.

“I think it’s just a matter of time before someone connects the dots.”

Charles looked at me for a moment, his green eyes shining with that soft expression he always had when it was just the two of us.

“I don’t care if they find out anymore, Y/n. I’m tired of hiding. I just want people to know you’re mine.”

My heart skipped a beat hearing that. We had always been so careful, so reserved. But I knew Charles was right. We couldn’t keep hiding forever.

“Maybe it’s the right time,” I said, holding his face in my hands. “But until then, let’s let them have fun with their theories.”

Charles smiled, pulling me closer. “Two years together, and still no one suspects.”

“We’re good at this,” I joked, kissing him lightly.

As we embraced there, away from the curious eyes of the paddock, I knew that when the secret finally came out, we’d be ready.

F1gossip Instagram post

“Everyone was shocked to see our Lord Perceval Charles Leclerc in the new music video of singer Y/n Y/l/n’s. In the music video, Y/n is the passenger of Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari and they act like a very sexy couple.

Who else has never imagined Charles doing something like this?”

Read the full articule in the link in our bio.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Yes, I’m a passenger princess”

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Enchanted to Meet You - Colin Bridgerton

A/N: I am so hype for the new season, and Colin isn't even my favorite Bridgerton sibling. When I was thinking of who should get Enchanted, I knew the story had to happen at a beautiful ball, so really this was one of the only choices. (There may be more Enchanted inspired fics, who's to say!) Hope you enjoy!

TS Prompt #6: Enchanted

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Reader Word Count: 3.0k Synopsis: After years of knowing, and not liking each other, Colin and the reader meet again at a ball, and share a magical evening together.

"Isn't that your second glass?" Eloise asks, a glass of champagne in her own gloved hand.

"No. It's my third," you say. She doesn't even try to hide the un-ladylike snort she lets out.

"I thought your mother said one."

"She did," you say, peering about the crowded ballroom for her deep red dress. "But, as this is my third ball of the season, I thought it only fitting."

"I'm sure she'll see it that way, too," Eloise says sarcastically.

It was true, this was your third ball, but the three glasses of champagne didn't really have anything to do with that. The matching numbers did add some kind of magic to the night, but truly, you just needed them to get through the evening.

It was your first year out, and after three balls, you weren't sure you would ever find someone to marry. It wasn't like you hadn't had callers. You had blossomed in the last year. So much so, that people often did a double take when they looked upon you. It wasn't so much that they weren't interested in you, but that you weren't in them.

This evening was looking to be another night of forcing laughter and faking smiles with men you had no interest in. The thought of another glass of champagne was too enthralling.

"I don't believe it," Eloise says, leaving your side. You watch her nearly run across the ballroom, and run into the arms of a man. When they break away, you see it is Colin, returned from his travels around the world.

It is hard to believe, but he has become more handsome, in his travels. You spent years and years at the Bridgerton household, and never found Colin anything other than annoying. He was the brother closest in age to Eloise, and he spent most of his time picking on the two of you.

But walking towards you now is a man. A very handsome man, whose smile seems to make your insides melt. You think you might melt, too, as he walks up to you.

"Have we met?" he says, taking your hand in his.

"Are you joking?" you ask, watching as he places a soft kiss to your gloved hand. "Colin, it's me."

"Y/N?" he asks quietly, his brow furrowed as he studies your face.

"Of course it's Y/N, you idiot," Eloise says, slapping his arm.

"You . . . you look completely different," he says.

"Bad different?"

"No, no, not bad at all," he says. He stares at you for a moment longer, seemingly speechless.

"Oh cut it out, will you?" Eloise says, "Both of you are staring like you've never seen the other before."

"Well, he looks different, too," you say, "A good different," you add, looking to him. He smiles, his mouth turned up to one end in playful amusement.

"Eloise, I hope you do not mind if I ask Miss Y/L/N to dance," he says. Eloise begins to say she does mind, but your mind is only on Colin as you drop your hand into his.

You are trembling as he leads you out onto the dancefloor. You have danced this dance hundreds of times before, and have done so to this exact song at the previous two balls. But now, the man in front of you is Colin, and that makes it completely new.

When he pulls you into his arms, your chests a touch closer than societally acceptable, you aren't breathing.

"Hello," he says softly.

"Hello," you say, as the music begins around you. Your moves are instinctual, as you let him lead you into the dance. He is still studying you, his eyes on every angle of your face. You laugh at his ministrations.

"What?" he asks.

"You act as if you don't know me."

"Well, I don't."

"I've spent nearly every summer at the Bridgerton household."

"No, that was Eloise's annoying childhood friend, that wasn't you," he says, his eyes locking on yours.

"Well, it has been a while since we've seen each other. And I have changed."

"I can tell," he says deeply. Goosebumps appear along your neck, and you watch his eyes track them.

"You've changed, too," you say, "Traveling agrees with you."

"Thank you," he says. He spins you out of his arms and back in. "How are you enjoying your first season?"

"Truthfully, it has been pretty boring so far."

"Boring?" he asks in surprise. "Don't tell me you've been a wallflower."

"Oh, on the contrary, everyone seems to notice how much I've changed," you say with a grin, making him laugh, "It's just, I haven't found their company as agreeable."

"And how about my company?" he asks, his voice quiet again.

"I'm not sure yet," you say thoughtfully, studying his face. "But so far, you are certainly a far better dancer than any of the other men I've danced with."

"Really? I'm honored."

The music comes to an end, and both of your hands linger for a moment longer on the other. The dancefloor starts to shift as couples enter and leave. You are supposed to be dancing with Lord Charmbord for the polka.

"Care to have some more fun?" Colin asks.

"What?"

"If you don't mind leaving Lord . . ." he trails off as he touches your wrist again, glancing at your dance card. "Lord Charmbord in the lurch, I'd be happy to prove that my company is much more enjoyable," he says. There is mischief in his eyes, and you know you will go wherever he wants you to.

"Where to?" you ask.

"Meet me at the fork in the gardens," he whispers in your ear, as he walks past you casually. Again, the goosebumps appear.

You walk off the dancefloor, keeping your head down so that no one, especially Lord Charmbord or your mother, see you slip out onto the terrace.

There are a few couples lingering out on the balcony, but they are too involved in their conversations to notice you move down the steps to the garden. You move silently as you look around for Colin, or anyone else.

Scandal would be sure to follow you if anyone were to catch you out here, but you can't bring yourself to care right now. This is the first time all season that you have felt anything, and you aren't going to let it go.

As you round a bend in the gardens, hands grab your waist and you nearly scream out. Quickly, though, Colin turns you around and reveals himself. You clutch a hand to your pounding heart.

"You frightened me," you say.

"I'm sorry," he says, laughter still in his eyes.

"No, you aren't," you say with a laugh.

"No, I'm not. But I am glad you met me here."

"Well, I was promised good company,” you say. Colin straightens, a smirk on his face, as he extends his arm to you.

“A promise I intend to make good on.” He leads you deeper into the maze like garden, as if he has explored it before. Before you can ask, he says, "You know, I used to play with the lord's son when we were kids. He knew where all of the hiding spots were in here, and challenged me to hunt him down. It took a few years, but I was eventually able to find all of his spots, and a few of my own."

"So if I asked you to hide right now . . ."

"You would not find me."

"You assume so little about my seeking skills?" you joke.

"No, just that my hiding ones are much more polished."

"Ah. Well, I should hate for us to have to split up, anyhow."

"As would I. You know, I still can't truly believe that you're you."

"I really haven't change, Mr. Bridgerton," you say.

"No?" he asks, looking you over thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps I have."

"You have."

"How so?" he asks, a small smile on his face. You look him over for a long moment before smiling back.

"You've gotten taller," you say. Colin lets out a tut of laughter.

"Indeed."

"But, I'm sure it's also your travels that are to blame for the man I met tonight."

"I would agree with that estimate," he says, "I learned a lot during my journeys that I am not sure I would have ever discovered at home."

"I can't help but feel envious," you say, "I've always wanted to travel, too."

"Really? Where to?" he asks.

"Anywhere, truthfully. But I've always been fascinated by Florence."

"It is truly gorgeous," he says with a nod.

"You've been?"

"I have. They have absolutely the best food of any of the places I've been. But what's more is they even have the best dances."

"The best dances?"

"Yes, they've taken our plain old quadrille and changed it into something magical," he says. He seems to notice the excitement in your eyes, because his smile only grows. "I couldn't help but notice that you're an accomplished dancer."

"Oh, please," you say, self-depreciatingly, "I'm passable, but certainly wouldn't call myself accomplished."

"I had no complaints," he says softly. He waits for you to give him a smile before continuing. "And if you spent one day in Florence, I know you would out dance every woman in there."

"They are truly that good?" you ask.

"Would you like me to show you?" he asks. He has come to a stop in the center of the gardens. A large fountain trickles softly behind him, the air moist with the shooting spouts. You study him for a moment, waiting for him to say he was joking, to turn back to the Colin you had known.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"Of course," he says, holding out his hand.

"There's no music."

"You don't need to hear the music to feel it," he says, taking your hand in his and pulling you in close. "Just follow along. It's got the same steps as the quadrille you know, but with a little more movement."

You nod your head and focus on the moves. Without music playing, it is a little harder to get into the rhythm, but he is correct, after a few steps, you can feel the music echoing inside of you.

His hand on your waist presses slightly, making your hips move more fluidly. You are certain if anyone were to see, it would mean scandal, but you cannot fight the smile growing on your face. Again, he shows you how to add more movement into a step, bringing the two of you closer again.

You have danced through one whole song in your head, and you don't want to stop anytime soon. Never in your life before have you danced like this. You feel so free, so graceful. And it is at this feeling, that you trip on an upturned stone and crash into Colin's arms.

The music has stopped playing in your mind. There is only the soft sound of water, the trill of crickets, and your pounding heart.

You have never been this close to a man. Your chest is flush against his. You can feel his breath, and watch as he looks down, too, at your bodies pressed together.

His eyes catch yours and everything seems to slow. There is only his warm brown eyes, locked onto your own, and the hand on your back that moves softly, comfortingly.

"Colin," you whisper. He smiles widely.

"I like when you say my name."

"I've said it a million times before," you say with a laugh.

"You've never said it like that."

"We should be heading back," you say. The hand on your back grows firmer, like he would do anything to keep you against him.

"No one knows we're out here," he says.

"My mother will come looking soon."

"Y/N," he whispers, his head ducking so that his words dance over your neck. You shiver slightly, and his smile only grows.

"I see what you mean," you say, looking back up at him, "I like the way you say my name, too." The look on his face is purely prideful.

"Don't go back inside," he says.

"We'll both be ruined."

"What if I don't care?" he asks.

"You do care," you say gently, "And so do I."

"Perhaps you're right."

"I am right, Colin," you say, beginning to pull away. He pulls you back in and your lips are a breath from his. His eyes flicker between your own and your lips, that are practically begging to be kissed. Your eyes close, against your better instinct, and you lean in.

Snap!

In an impossibly quick moment, Colin has pushed you out of his arms and ducked into an alcove of the garden. You wait for someone to appear, for your reputation to be ruined, but no one comes. Another minute passes and Colin comes out.

"Perhaps, you should get back inside, Y/N."

"Where did you run off to?" you ask, jumping again at his appearance. Before he can answer, you sigh. "Right," you say with a laugh.

"Let's get you back inside," he says. "That was too close."

Colin does get you back into the ball without scandal falling on you.

When you find your mother again, her face is nearly as red as her dress. Clearly, she has not followed her own rule regarding glasses of champagne. She says that Lord Charmbord had been searching for you, but you can't even begin to pretend to care.

For the rest of the ball, your eyes are always on Colin. Unfortunately, you don't get to spend any more of the evening with him. The closest you get is a moment on the dancefloor where you briefly switch partners.

His hand meets yours at the same time his eyes do, and once again, the world around you is gone. There is only the music and his face, looking at you in a way you can't precisely name, but that you're dying to know.

But just as soon as it happens, it is over, and you are back in the arms of a man you have absolutely no interest in.

As the night comes to a close, you bid Eloise and Lady Bridgerton goodnight. You can't help peering around the both of them for Colin, but just when it appears he is not coming and you have turned towards the exit, he calls your name.

"Miss Y/L/N," he says dashingly, "I would be remiss if I didn't bid you a goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton," you say, watching as he bends down to kiss your hand. Quietly, so that only you can hear, he says, "Say it just once more, please."

"Goodnight, Colin," you whisper. When he stands up straight, he is fighting off a smile. He bids your mother goodbye, and then you are getting handed off into your carriage, and ripped away from what feels like the first real night of your life.

The ride home is quiet. You answer your mother's few questions, but when she can see you're in no mood to talk, she sinks into her own thoughts.

The countryside is dark, but as you look out upon it, you can't help but wish. Wish that this was the very first page of your story with Colin, not where your story line will end. That he was as enchanted by you as much as you were by him. And pray that he is not in love with someone else.

At home, when you finally get into bed, you are restless. You toss and turn well into the early hours, questions rolling about your mind, all about Colin.

Too early the next morning, you are awoken by a lady's maid. The day after a ball is always busy. Gentleman callers all morning, and mothers and daughters in the afternoon, to get caught up on the morning callers.

While your handmaidens go about getting you dressed and pinning your hair up, you can't help but relieve the night before. It sparkles in your mind - truly the most perfect night you could have imagined.

You pray that it is not the last, but you know that you have to remain practical. Besides the looks and smiles he gave you, Colin did not lead on that he was interested in marriage anytime soon. You, on the other hand, were very interested in getting wed off this season.

As you walk down the steps to your sitting room, you assure yourself that it will be okay, if Colin does not feel the same.

"It is too early for callers!"

At the foot of the stairs, you hear your doorman arguing in hushed tones. You can hear another voice, but not clearly enough to match the sound to its owner. Before you can open the door and find out, your mother comes bustling down the staircase and passes you.

"Who could it be at this hour!" she says, ripping open the door.

Colin Bridgerton is standing in your doorway, a bouquet of orange tulips in hand. His eyes are wide when they circle to meet yours, but then they soften.

"Y/N," he says gently. The doorman stutters a response at this lack of formality, so Colin corrects himself. "I mean, Miss Y/L/N. Mrs. Y/L/N," he says, turning to look at your mother.

"I apologize for the early arrival, but I wanted to be the first here," he says.

"The first here for what?" your mother asks in shock.

"To call upon Miss Y/L/N, of course. You see, I shared quite an exquisite time with her last night, and hope that I may spend more time in her good company."

"Really?" you and your mother ask in unison. You laugh, and feeling bold, walk towards Colin. Still keeping a respectful distance from him, knowing that your doorman was watching closely, you take the tulips from him.

"Really," he says. "I was enchanted to meet you again, Y/N. Please don't have someone waiting on you."

"Not at all," you say. "Would you like to come in for tea, Colin?"

"I would love to," he says with a grin that nearly takes your breath away.

[itneverendshere]

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Until now.

Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit. 

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy. 

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.

“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle. 

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?���

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”

And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—

You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.

He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”

“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?

Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.

“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.

Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying? 

You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?" 

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance. 

"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?" 

You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.

You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.

And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

[cocobeanncteez]

Song Series One-shot: Choi San — Into You

Genre: SMUT (MDNI / 18+), fluff, idol au, fwb to lovers au

Pairing: ateez San x idol!reader (fem)

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings/content: heavy making out, dry humping, breast play, oral sex (f receiving) / cunnilingus, clit play, fingering, hand job, cum eating (f), vaginal penetration, protected sex (pill), multiple orgasms, aftercare, pet names (sweetheart, baby, good girl, pretty girl), praising, sorry if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: Please note that my Song Series One-shots are purely based on how I personally interpret the lyrics of the songs I chose for this series. It is not based on the music video (if it has one).

Song Inspiration: Into You by Ariana Grande

You watched the stage lights dim, casting a soft glow over the bustling, cheering crowd, various colored lightsticks twinkling like little stars. Your group stepped into the backstage area, and a familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through you while a staff member helped you take your in-ear monitors off.

Tonight’s performance at a major music festival had been electric, your voice carrying through the venue like a siren’s call. Your group had been practicing very hard for this festival, and your body was begging for some well-deserved rest and some food.

But now, amidst the crowd of technicians, staff, and fellow artists backstage, you searched for one person: Choi San.

“Good job out there, Y/N,” your group's leader said and pats you on the shoulder. You offered her a quick smile in return, but your eyes continued scanning the area. She smirked at you and left you alone, knowing exactly who you were searching for.

Then you spot him, leaning against the far wall, his gaze already fixed on you. San’s dark eyes glittered with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He straightened up, pushing away from the wall. He strides towards you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, mentally thanking your stylists for putting you in such a great outfit that really highlighted your beautiful features and hugged your body.

“Y/N,” he greets, his voice a low rumble. You bowed to him as he was your senior in this industry, knowing that there are people around that could be observing the two of you very closely. “You were incredible out there," he complimented.

San looked visibly exhausted as Ateez had performed right before your group did. He wanted to lie down and close his eyes, but he would never miss the uncommon opportunity to watch you perform on stage. Despite the tiredness, he still looked like he was going for a magazine photoshoot.

You laughed lightly, though the sound is tinged with nervous excitement from seeing him after weeks. “Thanks, San. You weren’t so bad yourself." Your eyes couldn't help but scan his muscular arms, marveling at how built he was. He seemed to have gained more muscle from the last time you saw him weeks ago.

He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye. “Just not bad, huh?”

“You know what I mean,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully. “What’s up?”

San’s expression turns serious, his gaze piercing. He looked at his surroundings before shifting his gaze back to you. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Sure, follow me, I know a place.”

It hadn’t always been this way—the two of you lost in each other’s orbit. In fact, the first time you met San was far from the intense, passionate moment you now shared. It was at an after-party of an awards show a year ago, a glitzy affair full of laughter, music, and mingling with fellow idols.

You were standing by the bar, nursing a drink and chatting with some fellow idol friends when you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found San leaning casually against the counter of a bar, a mischievous smile on his lips.

When the bartender approached him, he gently cleared his throat. "One chocolate martini with extra chocolate liqueur, please," he ordered, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, utterly fascinated by his choice of cocktail.

“Y/N, right?” he asked when he noticed he caught your attention, his voice smooth.

You nodded, intrigued. “And you’re San. Your group's been killing it lately.”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound, and you noticed his cute dimples. “Thanks, that's kind of you to say," he said, "I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’m a fan of your work.”

You felt a flush of pleasure at his words, and your heart was beating rapidly. “Thank you, and I'm a big fan of your work too," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "So, what brings you here?”

“Just looking to unwind a bit,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe meet some interesting people.”

The night had flowed effortlessly from there. You found yourselves in deep conversation, talking about everything from music to dreams and fears. There was an undeniable chemistry, a pull that neither of you could ignore.

It was no surprise when, later that night, you ended up in a quiet, secluded corner of the party's venue, lips locked in a fervent kiss. The taste of him, the chocolate you could taste on his lips, the feel of his hands on your skin—it was intoxicating.

That night had been the first of many. Whenever your groups crossed paths, you found yourselves drawn to each other, sneaking away for stolen moments of passion and connection. Each encounter only deepened the bond between you two, making it harder to deny the feelings that had grown.

Presently, you led him to a secluded corner of the venue, away from prying eyes and eager ears, no cameras in sight; this was a place you found when you had a mental breakdown during an awards show and needed a place to cry.

The muffled sounds of the ongoing concert created a bubble of intimacy around you two. San steps closer, his presence overwhelming.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. “Yeah?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours while he stepped even closer to you. “I can barely breathe when you’re around, Y/N. It’s like you’ve got this hold on me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “San...” He was so close, and you realized that he indeed got bigger since the last time you saw him. The new haircut and dyed navy blue hair made his features look sharper. Half his abs were covered by the black leather crop top he was wearing, and his pants seemed to be hanging a little lower than what you saw on the screen when he was performing before. You wanted to get even closer to him; you wanted to cross the line.

San’s voice broke through your little reverie. “Remember the first time we met?”

You smiled, nodding. “At that party. You were so confident.”

He laughed softly. “I was nervous as hell. But there was something about you, Y/N. I couldn’t stay away.”

“And now we’re here,” you murmured, your hand reaching out to his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “And I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

The temperature in the area seemed to rise, the air thick with anticipation. You knew that this was a turning point, a moment that would define whatever came next. And you were ready, ready to take that leap with San.

He takes your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I don’t want to play games anymore. I need to know if this is real, if we’re real.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “It feels real to me, San. But it’s dangerous, you know that. With everyone watching us…” One mistake and a scandal could ruin both your careers.

San steps even closer, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head back, his lips just inches from yours. “A little danger never scared me, Y/N. What scares me is not knowing what we could be.”

Your heart races as his words sink in. The air between you crackles with unspoken desire. “So, what do we do?”

His eyes darken with determination. “We take a chance. No more waiting, no more hiding.”

You nod, your decision made. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

San’s lips curve into a slow, confident smile. “Then come here.”

When you finally pull away at the interruption of the crowd's cheering when another group finished performing, both of you are breathless. San’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed in bliss. "Come over tomorrow?" he mumbled.

He pulls you into his arms, the world fading away as your lips meet in a kiss that’s been weeks in the making. The passion between you is undeniable, a fire that’s been waiting to ignite. You lose yourself in the moment, the taste of him, the feel of his body against yours. This was dangerous. This was scandalous.

And oddly, that's how you wanted it.

You didn't catch what he said. "Huh?"

Checking your appearance in your bathroom mirror one last time, you shoved your wallet, keys, and your phone into your bag. You switched your bedroom lights off before you tip-toed to your apartment door.

He moved to place a kiss below your ear. "Come over tomorrow night... my apartment," he whispered. "I'll pick you up."

"Going somewhere, honey?" you heard a familiar voice behind you, and you gasped in shock. "God! Maya, you scared me," you said to your fellow band mate and noticed she seemed to be going somewhere as well. "Where are you going?"

She giggled, "With you, of course." You raised an eyebrow. "I wanted to see Seonghwa, so he's coming with San to get us," she elaborates and you smirk at her. "Anyway, lets go, Y/N, they're here."

The two of you put your face masks and hats on before making your way downstairs to the parking lot.

"So you and Seonghwa... since when?" you ask and she blushes.

"Right before their Europe tour," you says and your eyes widened.

"That's like, what, five months now?"

She nodded. "We're keeping it secret. You and San are the only ones that know now."

The familiar black car came into view and you and Maya quickly got into the backseat. You greet both the boys and notice how Seonghwa's eyes sparkled when he saw Maya. You were genuinely surprised they managed to keep this a secret.

San began driving, and thankfully there was barely any traffic on the road, so you reached earlier than expected. The security system in this apartment complex was incredible, so you felt at ease.

The four of you made small conversation in the elevator when you reached, and as soon as you entered San's apartment, he was pulling you away to his room.

"There's cake in the fridge, Y/N," Seonghwa called out behind you. You yell out a quick thanks before San shut his bedroom door and pinned you against the door. He took your mask and hat off, tossing it aside on the little table by the door, his own mask following.

San placed his arms on the door on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. "Hi," he says, dimples showing, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. God, you're so into him.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're so cute, Sannie," you say, pecking his lips. He giggles in response, returning a peck on your lips.

"What do you wanna do?" he asks, dragging you further in his room and making you sit down on his bed. San's room wasn't unfamiliar to you, having been here at least ten times already. You always loved how clean and tidy his room was, and how it was laced with his scent.

"Hmm, anything you want," you reply.

"How about a movie? Sounds good?" You nodded and San moved to get under the sheets, pulling you into his arms, putting the blanket over you both. He reached for the TV remote on his bedside table with one arm, while the other was still around you. You watched his arms flex, and you thanked god that he was wearing a tank top right now.

While he scrolled through the list of movies, you were stroking his arm, marveling at the bigger muscles. His bicep looked so juicy, you couldn't help the thought of wanting to bite it.

And your impulsive thoughts won.

Realizing what you did, you slowly turned to look at San who had an eyebrow raised at your actions. Before you could explain yourself, he moved to hover on top of you, capturing your lips with his own, kissing you hard. You arch your legs and pull him closer to you by his back so that he was now in between your legs, his chest pressed against yours. You moan softly when you felt his boner rub against your clothed clit.

The temperature seemed to be rising the more you kissed, and San pulled away to catch his breath— except, his way of catching his breath was trailing kisses from your lips to your neck.

"Look what you started," he whispered against your neck, placing open mouthed kisses, being very careful to not leave marks on your skin despite how desperately he wanted to.

He pulled away to look at you. "I was waiting for you to make the first move before I did," you say, your tongue poking out slightly to wet your lips, catching San's attention.

You moved your hands down the sides of his body, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants. You slip a finger inside to hook it under the band of his underwear, pulling it away from his skin and then letting it go so that it slapped against his skin.

"Y/N," he starts, but you push him by the shoulder so his back was against the bed, and you straddle his lap. Your fingers grasp the ends of your t-shirt before you lift it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. Your chest was covered by a lacey bra, and San could see the color of your nipples through it. You leaned down to kiss him, hungrier and hotter. His hands explored the exposed skin of your back while you slowly grinded on his hard cock, earning a low moan from him.

San sucked in a breath at your bold actions. He wanted you. He wanted you so bad. He's held himself back so much. The two of you still haven't crossed the line, keeping it strictly to making out.

And you wanted to change that. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

San's hand hovered over the hook of your bra, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at you. "Can I?" he asks and you instantly nod, letting him unhook your bra and toss it aside.

"God, you're so pretty," he says, leaning forward to place a kiss in the valley of your chest, and goosebumps erupted on your skin.

San trailed open mouthed kisses to your nipple, taking it in his mouth, tongue darting out to flick the bud, while one of his hands cupped your other boob, massaging it gently.

"San..." you moaned, hands moving to play with his hair while he repeated his actions on your other boob.

You rolled your hips back and forth on his hard cock and he pulled away to look at you with hooded eyes. "Y/N... baby, you're driving me crazy," he mumbles, his hands moving to the waistband of your sweatpants. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

"San, I want you," you moan when his hands at your waist press you down on him. "Fuck, I just... I need you right now, San. I want you to fuck me, fill me up with your cock." You wanted a little less conversation and a little more of him touching your body.

San flipped you onto your back and hovered over your body. "Are you sure, baby?" he asks and you hum in response. "Use your words, sweetheart."

"Yes, Sannie, please..." you beg and that was all it took for San to take your sweatpants off along with your panties, shedding his own clothes right after.

And god was naked San truly a marvelous sight. Your hands glided up his arms to his shoulders, before dipping down to his chest and then his hard abs. You maintained eye contact when your hand wrapped around his hard length, slowly pumping his cock.

Only for him to swiftly lay in between your legs, taking your clit in his mouth, his fingers still maintaining the same pumping pace. "What a pretty pussy," he compliments, sucking on your clit, "And it's all mine."

San sucked in a breath while his own hand moved to cup your pussy, his finger swiping along your slit to collect the wetness there, rubbing it on your clit for some lubrication. He leaned down to capture your lips with kiss while his finger moved on your clit in circular motions, your toes curling in the process.

After working on your clit, he finally slipped a finger inside your dripping hole, and you moaned at the stretch. He pumped his fingers to match the pace you kept while pumping his cock, and a second finger joined the first. The stretch made your hips buck up while you moaned, and you were starting to lose your senses. Your walls were practically sucking his fingers, and San pulled away from kissing you.

"San, fuck, please don't stop!" you moaned loudly, your thighs squeezed his head while he lapped at your clit, his wet tongue pressing harder on you. He hummed, the vibration giving you an extra push towards your building orgasm. You were so close to coming, and he seemed to notice that. His hand and tongue worked faster on you, and seconds later, you were releasing all over his fingers. He lapped at your throbbing clit once more before pulling his fingers out, sucking them clean, eyes closing at your sweet taste.

"Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" He asks, lining himself up with your wet entrance.

"W-wait San, let me..." you reached for his cock to return the favor, but he stopped you.

"No, baby, that's okay," he says softly with a smile. "I'll cum too quickly otherwise, and I'd rather cum in you. Is that okay, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Sannie..." He pumps his cock one more time before sliding his tip into your warm hole, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm not even fully in and you're already so fucking tight," he moans, slowing pushing himself fully in, finally crossing the line.

His cock stretched you out so well, and your eyes closed shut, your body feeling like it was on fire. You were clenching around his length, and San swore he was going to bust right then and there. He leaned down to kiss you softly. "I'm going to start moving, okay?" he whispered against your lips. Once you hum in approval, San goes back to kissing you while rolling his hips, pushing in and out of you in a steady, slow pace, wanting to take his time to familiarize the way you felt around his cock.

But you were growing slightly impatient. You pulled away from kissing him. "Sannie, baby, please... faster please..." you moan, and he chuckles in response. "Please, Sannie."

"So impatient," he murmurs and he goes even slower to tease you, making you whine.

And then he pushes hard into you, knocking the air out of your lungs before thrusting into you faster like you asked.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out, clawing at the sheets beneath you. San's hands gripped the black headboard of his bed, his arm muscles tightly flexing. "God, it- it feels so good, fuck."

You feel the coil of pleasure get tighter in your stomach, and you could tell San was close too. "You're taking my cock so well, fuck, Y/N, you're so pretty," he says, and wets his thumb in his mouth before reaching down to rub your clit, all while maintaining his pace, and you felt your pussy spasm.

"Are you close baby?" he grunts, "You gonna cum all over this dick? Hmm?"

You tried to respond to him, but your words were all jumbled and incoherent. San rubbed faster on your clit, and the coil in your stomach finally snapped. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body shaking beneath him.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed, chasing his own high. "Hold on, sweetheart, I'm a-almost... almost there," San says, thrusting even faster before he groans, his cock pulsing, indicating that he came, his cum painting your walls white. He thrusts two more times to milk himself dry, before collapsing onto you, being careful to not put all his weight on you.

You stroke his back and he kisses your collarbone before pulling out and lying down beside you. The room was filled with the sound of both you breathing heavily, heartbeats moving at a rapid pace.

San got off the bed to get some wet wipes before he wiped your dripping pussy, and you whined when the tissue touched your sensitive clit.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" San asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Hmm, sensitive," you mumble. "Can't feel my legs." He chuckles and leans down to kiss your head before disposing the wipes in his bathroom.

You got off the bed to head to the bathroom to pee and clean up a little more. While you were washing your hands, San wrapped his arms around you, turning you around to face him when you were done drying your hands on the hand towel. He gently pressed you against the sink, leaning in to kiss you oh so gently.

"I love you," you say against his lips. "I want to be with you, San."

"I love you too," he says, his heart swelling with happiness to finally hear the words he's been longing to hear. "I know you're scared, Y/N, and honestly I am too. This is dangerous and scandalous in our lives... but I love you a lot," he reaches out to cup your cheek, stroking your skin with the pad of his thumb. "We're humans before we're idols. We deserve to fall in love too. There's nothing I want more than to be your boyfriend, Y/N."

Tears well up in your eyes and you nod at his words. "I'd like that," you whisper, pulling him into a tight hug. San held you for a bit, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"How about we shower, and then I'll make you some ramen?" he suggests, and you instantly agree, not wanting to waste any precious time you have with him.

San smiles widely, his cute dimples popping out while he kisses you all over your face, and you've never felt happier before.

God, you were so into him. 

[mwahsol]

Hot sauce makes me nervous

Description: You have been invited to go on Hot One's First We Feast. It was recently announced that you're releasing an album but when some were looking through the title names they noticed some were romantic names, there have been rumors of you and a specific Uconn basketball player, leading there to already be a lot of attention on the anticipated album. Later on in the interview, you get asked about a specific song already out asking you who and/or what was the inspiration for it. I am using Sabrina and her music as well from other artists as yours in this because I can't think of good song titles…enjoy :)

“It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we’re joined by Y/n L/n, she is one of the most talked about artists. Her debut album from 2021 still to this day is one of the most played in the last four years, some of her latest singles being Please Please Please, Espresso, Nonsense, and The Diner. As well as her new album called Sort n’ Sweet. Y/n L/n welcome to the show.” Sean announces while turning to look at you during the end as to give you the greeting.

“Hi thank you for inviting me, this has been a dream of mine to be here so I am honored and nervous,” you reply a bit nervous since you're fangirling on the inside.

“We’re excited to have you, how are you feeling going into this, are you a fan of hot sauce or prefer to keep things more tame?” He starts with a simple question to try and get you a bit comfortable, keeping things light and steady.

“Umm, I wouldn't say I'm a fan.. when I'm out at dinner I don't go for the spicy flavors but like as a small snack like chips or something yes I'm a fan. Hot sauce makes me all sweaty and nervous if I'm honest.” You say giggling towards the end because you know if you lied your girlfriend's team would never let you live it down when they watch this. “Like one time I thought it was a good idea to try those hot soups filled with peppers and stuff I started to tear up by like the fifth bite.”

At your retelling of the event, Sean is also laughing with you before he starts asking you the question he's prepared and having to dig in.

“I never eat wings with bones in them so this is a little new to me,” you tell him while taking your first bit of the first wing.

“Really? I thought most ate them with the bone in.”

“Yeah I just have an irrational fear of my teeth falling out if I bite down on the bone, that's also why I hate eating with forks.”

Sean and the rest of the people behind the cameras can't help but laugh at your admission. In the background of everyone laughing with you both, you can hear her laughing as well knowing that what you're saying is very much true. Hearing her you turn your head subtly, thinking people wouldn't notice this when posted, looking at her laughing admiring her for a second. You would find out later on people could decently see you turn your head, and if you listened close enough you could hear Paige's laughter in the back.

As the show went on Sean asking you questions about your career, your opinions on your songs, and how you came to be a singer, he asks, “So your song Let the Light In is one of your more romantic yet darker songs. Is there a story behind it or how did the inspiration come to you to create a song like this?”

When hearing his question you started worrying a bit knowing the inspiration wasn't just yours but Paige's too. You look at her in a way asking if she's ok with you answering knowing that this involves a personal situation with her and yourself, when you see her nod and give you an encouraging smile you know she's giving you the go-ahead and will be supportive of your answer. “Well, I wrote the song from my girlfriend mainly, when she had a serious injury and was in a dark place at the time when I met her. As she slowly got better the day she was cleared to play again she told me that she was grateful to have me because meeting me was like a light coming into her life encouraging her to get better. When she told me that I cried because I admitted to her that when I met her I was also at a dark place in my life so meeting her was also like the sun shining after the storm for me. We are each other's lights so I wrote the song for her.” You answer tearing up at the memory but smiling remembering her face when you told her she's your light too.

“It such a heartwarming thing to see how you can take special memories like that and write something beautiful for it, thank you for sharing.” He replied also smiling fondly at you seeing how you made sure with Paige first and telling such a personal moment.

“Thank you too for asking,” you know some interviews would keep pushing for more details, and you're grateful he didn't seeing as how it's not just your story to tell.

By the ninth wing, you started crying while laughing, there were funny instances from you getting a wing and running to Paige telling her to eat it since she was dying by laughing at you, to you falling out of your chair from how fast you turned and reached to grab the milk from the table away from you.

“I feel like my makeup with melting off just by my sweat and tears,” you say struggling to just sit upright but still laughing at your situation.

“Yeah, you look like it.” You heard Paige mumble in the background teasing you knowing it would get a reaction out of you.

“Babe I swear I will go back there and pour this hot sauce down your throat.” Threatening her, not being cautious anymore, while you felt like your mouth was on fire. This makes her laugh even harder as well as the crew and Sean.

After most of the laughter settled down Sean gets ready to ask another question. “This past year you have been spotted at a lot more WCBB and WNBA games, when did you get into watching women's basketball, and why?”

“When I was younger I had brothers that played basketball, they would teach me to play, and tried to get me to watch the NBA. As most big brothers do I just never could get into watching men play but anytime I would find a WNBA game you could bet I was fighting for the controller to put on the game. This year I’ve had a bit more free time since the tour for my last album was done and I took a bit of a break before I started writing this new album so I decided to attend as many as I could.” You weren't technically lying but you did leave out the part where you would mainly go to Uconn games to see your girlfriend back on the court and support her.

“Do you still play?”

“Yeah, a bit nothing serious though,” which is true if anyone on the team asks you to play you would say yes. Paige, while you are both away from Connecticut, if she finds a court shell beg you to play. Even though they're very much significantly taller you'll sometimes land a few points.

“Alright Y/n last one,” he tells you while shaking the last bottle.

“Oh gosh ok ok,” You can feel yourself shaking a little with nervousness but you have to see it through, or else she will never let you forget it. Shaking the bottle as well you try to put a of hot sauce enough to get it but not too much where you're burn your tongue off.

“Before I do this I want the camera and people to see that I did put some on there so she can't say I wussed out,” you tell everyone holding up your wing and looking directly at Paige while she shakes her head laughing at your expression.

“Yes, no one can claim you didn't go through with it, going out with a bang,” Sean tells you backing you up.

When you bite down you can already feel yourself regretting this. You start sweating again, eyes tearing up, nosey runny, you're defiantly making her drive you to go get ice cream.

“So Y/n you stated that in you're elementary through middle school years you took ballet lessons,” as soon as he said those words you knew where this was going and started to mentally prepare yourself, “we wanted to see if you could choreograph a small routine to your song All mine.”

“Of course, I can't promise it'll be good,” you respond while laughing and sniffling.

“Alright let's move these tables and chairs,” Sean says while laughing with you.

When doing your routine you only got a few steps in before you stopped and could continue because of your laughter, “I'm sorry omg I can't do it.”

“Fanominal dance couldn't have asked for better. There it is Y/n L/n taking on the wings of death, living to tell the tale, is there anything you would like to promote.”

“Short n’ Sweet comes out August, listen to it please it'll make me feel better from this. Watch the WNBA they're really cool and watch WCBB they're really cool too.” Biding everyone goodbye while still panting a little.

“Those wings got you good hm baby?” Paige says while driving to a McDonalds to get you a ice cream you almost demanded for.

“Paige, honey, I love you but I swear on everything I love I will make this car crash if we don't get ice cream. I can feel my face melting off.” You claim not even looking at her too busy trying not to keep sniffling.

“Ok ok we're almost there,” she can't help but laugh. I mean can you blame her, you were excited to do this a few hours ago now you look light you lost a fight.

After finally getting you your ice cream it's like your mood did a complete 180. “Thank you my love,” you say as you kiss her all over her face showing her how much you wanted that ice cream.

“The switch-up is crazy,” Paige says while chuckling at your attitude and holding your waist.

“I can stop.”

“Now I never said that come here mama.”

I'm slowly defrosting y'all (I'm losing my mind.) ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoyed this <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[burningred1989]

SHE

A/N: Harry Styles begins having vivid dreams about a mysterious girl he’s never met.

MASTERLIST

<<<<<

Harry Styles had always been inspired by the peculiarities of his own mind. Whether it was fleeting memories or emotions too complex to explain, they often wove their way into his music. But this time, it was something—or rather, someone—completely different.

It started months ago. He'd wake up in the middle of the night, the faint traces of a dream still clinging to him. In those dreams, a girl would appear, her face so vivid it was as though she were standing right in front of him. Her features were unmistakable: soft yet striking, framed by hair that glinted in the sunlight of his subconscious. What stood out most were her cherry red lips, bold against her otherwise natural presence, and her cherry red nails that danced at her sides as she moved.

Harry didn’t know who she was. She wasn’t someone he recognized from his life, nor did she resemble anyone he’d met before. Yet, she felt familiar, like a whisper in a language he didn’t quite understand.

The dreams continued, night after night, until Harry couldn’t shake her from his thoughts. She was haunting, in the most captivating way. That’s when the idea for a song began to form.

<<<<<

Sitting in the studio one rainy afternoon, Harry strummed his guitar absentmindedly. The lyrics spilled out of him like a confession he hadn’t realized he needed to make:

"She lives in daydreams with me, she's the first one that I see..."

His bandmates noticed the shift in him, the way he seemed lost in thought even when he was fully present. “You alright, mate?” Mitch had asked one evening, seeing Harry staring into space, his pen hovering over a notebook.

“Yeah,” Harry replied with a small, wistful smile. “Just... can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Who?” Mitch pressed.

Harry hesitated. “I don’t know,” he admitted, the truth tasting strange on his tongue. “She’s not real. But I see her—every time I close my eyes.”

<<<<<

Months later, "She" had become one of Harry's favorite songs to perform live. The mystery of it, the way the music carried a weight he couldn’t explain, made it feel intimate even in front of thousands.

It was a warm summer night, the air electric with excitement as Harry took the stage in a sold-out arena. The crowd roared as he launched into his set, each song more exhilarating than the last. And then, the chords for "She" began to play.

As Harry sang the opening lines, his eyes swept across the sea of fans, their faces illuminated by the stage lights. He loved these moments—connecting with people through his music. But tonight, something shifted.

There she was.

Standing in the crowd, swaying gently to the rhythm, her hands in the pockets of her loose jeans. Her cherry red lipstick glowed under the lights, matching the vivid nail polish that caught his attention every time her fingers moved. She looked exactly as she had in his dreams—carefree, radiant, almost otherworldly.

Harry’s breath hitched midsong, but he kept going, his gaze returning to her again and again. She wasn’t at the front of the crowd, nor was she trying to grab his attention like so many others. She was just... there, lost in the music, as though the song had been written for her.

"She lives in daydreams with me..."

Harry’s voice took on a deeper, more vulnerable edge as he continued to sing, unable to tear his eyes away from her. His heart raced, but he forced himself to stay composed. If he acknowledged her too openly, would she vanish like a mirage?

<<<<<

The second the encore ended, Harry hurried backstage, his mind spinning. As the cheers of the crowd echoed in the distance, he grabbed his head of security.

“Did you see her?” he asked, his voice urgent.

“Who?”

“The girl with the red lipstick—cherry red. She was wearing jeans, her nails were red too. I need you to find her and bring her here.”

The security team sprang into action, scouring the venue. Harry paced back and forth in his dressing room, his thoughts a whirlwind. Was it really her? The girl from his dreams? How could that even be possible?

Minutes turned into an hour. Finally, the head of security returned, shaking his head. “She’s gone, Harry. Must’ve left right after the show.”

Harry’s heart sank. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. How could she just vanish?

He slumped into a chair, the adrenaline from the concert fading into a heavy sadness. His mind replayed the moment he saw her in the crowd, the way she swayed to the music, so perfectly in sync with everything he’d imagined.

<<<<<

For days after, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her. He questioned himself—had he imagined it? Was it wishful thinking, his dreams bleeding into reality? But deep down, he knew what he’d seen.

Fans began posting clips from the concert online, capturing the moment when Harry’s eyes locked on something—or someone—in the crowd. “Does anyone else notice how distracted he seems during She?” one fan commented. Others speculated about the inspiration behind the song, wondering if the girl from Harry’s dreams had come to life.

But Harry stayed silent, holding the memory close. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again, but one thing was certain: she was no longer just a figment of his imagination.

She was real.

And now, she was out there somewhere, living and breathing beyond the confines of his dreams.

PART 2: Cherry Scented Vinyl Shop

[dreaisgrayte]

Headcanons of the hashiras and their ideal weddings!!

(I WANT TO GET MARRIED :()

This is such a cute idea! The Hashiras would be such good spouses let's be honest. I wrote this as reader being a wife, I hope that's okay.

Also AHHH, I want to get married too! Then I'd have someone legally forced to help me stage fic scenarios and be a source of inspiration. That's the dream tbh

Ideal Weddings with the Hashira

Includes: Gyomei Himijima, Tengen Uzui, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Obanai Iguro, Giyu Tomioka, Kyojuro Rengoku, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho Synopsis: What would your ideal wedding be like with the Hashira? (again Muichiro is my little baby and seeing him get married would be too much, but as a side part: he'd probably forget if you didn't walk him down the aisle yourself, so it would be a very wholesome event for the both of you) warnings: guys... it's up to you how you interpret what happens, but I know and you know.

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei wants something small and personal. 

The ceremony would take place at a shrine, an overall calm and peaceful event

He invites friends over for a reception in the backyard of the home you share

Gyomei, at all times, will have his hand either over your shoulder, on your thigh, or intertwined with your hand. He wants to keep you close, close enough to hug, close enough to kiss, and close enough to haul off when the party is over

The night ends with you falling asleep cuddled up next to him

Tengen Uzui

Tengen wants to go all out on your wedding dress, the decorations, the music, every little thing is amplified with magnificent splendor, thanks to your soon-to-be husband

The reception is an even bigger event, with floods of people you don’t know dancing to music just so Uzui can show you off for the night

Everything had to be perfectly glorious because that’s what you were

As the new wife, Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru party with you all night, gossiping about how to best care for your beloved husband

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi would want just the two of you at the wedding except only those who mattered the most

The “after party” is simply a retreat for the both of you. He whispers about showing you off to the world, shouting from the rooftops about how much he loves you, but tonight you’re only for him

He takes all the time in the world to show you just how much he appreciates his newlywed wife

Obanai Iguro

Obanai is a tricky one because once he fell in love with you, he already saw you as his wife. He would just start calling you sweet marital pet names in the midst of life, taking you by surprise every time

Eventually, you’d have to tell him that you wanted to actually get married, the whole shebang, but Obanai would have you sign the papers and put on the wedding dress for only him to see

He wouldn’t be able to deal with anyone else looking at you from now on since your name and his were intertwined in eternity

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu leaves the planning to you because he can’t be trusted with making so many important decisions

He’s sure to love anything you decide 

When you walk up the aisle looking the way you do, he wishes he would’ve been more involved because his face contorts as he starts to sob over how beautiful you look

At the reception, Giyu still can’t believe that you took on such a stressful job and still smile at him with all the love in your heart. At the end of the night, all he can think about is how gorgeous you are when you still love him – even after he doesn’t deserve it

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro wants a traditional wedding that makes you shine in the best way. He’s wanted to tie the knot ever since he met you so at the moment he’s as excited as a child on Christmas morning

It’s a charming wedding, one that would appear in a romantic comedy at the end with a ‘just married’ car

Kyojuro carries you through the threshold of your home and not one guest sees either of you for many days because if there’s one thing Rengoku likes calling you more than wife, is hearing you be called mama.

Mitsuri Kanroji

Mitsuri gets excited planning all the colors and ideas and together you make the perfect spring wedding with flowers and cherry blossoms everywhere. 

It’s back to the quaint and romantic Japanese countryside for your wedding, friends and family gathering around to share in the bottomless love 

With Mitsuri it’s like the sun has gotten married to you, her smile is enough to warm your heart and when she kisses you – the whole world falls away

It’s hard for you not to worship Mitsuri with how considerate she is every second of the day, so you end up showering her with surplus amounts of love

Mitsuri is thrilled to show you just how flexible she can be, in more ways than one. 

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu doesn’t want anyone else to ruin what little time she’ll get to spend with you, so you elope

She takes you far away from everyone else and you travel the world, collecting medicinal flora and fauna, touring beautiful villages, and holding hands the whole way

Now that you’re her wife, everything falls into place, she only wishes her older sister could’ve met you. 

Shinobu whispers to you every night how much she loves you and how she’s damn sure your body could heal the world