#I like to think of this as their first meeting here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jiminrings · 2 days ago

Text

anything

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 10k

glimpse: yoongi doesn't want to move on from his ex because she's everything he's ever known, whereas you want to move on from him because he's everything you've ever loved.

alternatively, yoongi's your best friend and you've been in love with him your whole life.

[ angst, fluff, friends to Not Friends to lovers, pitiful amounts of Yearning And Pining, emotional constipation, second lead taehyung being unbearable And delicious somehow, jealousy, the harrowing argument of what it means to seek growth n seek comfort, VINDICATION!!!, redemption ]

notes: because i've decided that i will never become sick of writing lovers who are doomed but not really, here we are 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ to get the full experience, pls listen to the song that was the inspo behind this!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Yoongi's only ever been with one woman his entire life.

Ever since he turned old enough to introduce someone to his parents without them mistaking it for puppy love, which in his case was at seventeen years old, Yoongi quickly realized that he doesn’t ever want to introduce anyone other than Haein.

Yoongi, at his fresh age of seventeen, made a pact to himself to never bring someone home again if it’s not Haein, because bothering a nineteen-year old you for your own house slippers to lend to his girlfriend (he didn’t want to spend his allowance buying a nice pair when he could just sacrifice his dignity by groveling at your feet for it) was too much of a hassle.

He didn’t like the fuss that came with forming crushes. Yoongi’s spent countless nights scrutinizing his first love’s actions during recess and microanalyzing her tone towards him from the morning earlier— he doesn’t want to go through any of that again.

He doesn’t want the grown-up equivalent of it either, because all throughout high school and some bits of college wherein he and Haein were together and totally not broken up in a perpetual on-off cycle as usual, Yoongi thought that he was set for life with her.

Unlike you, he hasn’t had his share of multiple first kisses. Yoongi, not even once, stepped into a bar with wandering eyes and a hopeful perk to his tone. He hasn’t worried about making first impressions again, nor has he ever had to ask how many people came into the picture before him.

In Yoongi’s eyes, it’s only been Haein the entire time. There’s no before, during, and after her, even if the last phase in time is just something he hopes for and is not set into stone.

It’s still Haein for him, the kind, starry-eyed girl that wore your house slippers when she stepped foot into his childhood home for the first time to meet his parents, and it’s been her ever since.

It’s still her, because she never knew that the slippers she wore was actually yours, which made it her one and only designated pair, so much so that she even took it with her when she moved in with Yoongi in their shared apartment.

It’s still her, because you’ve gone through multiple pairs ever since, and so did the boyfriends you took home to meet your family.

It’s still Haein, because Yoongi hasn’t moved on from her even if they broke up for good (or atleast that’s what you’ve heard in verbatim and what Yoongi refuses to confirm) a year ago.

"There's nothing wrong with being with someone new," you snort, your tone bordering on condescending to which Yoongi predicted correctly, simply because you’ve had this conversation a million times already.

You told him that in your attempt to comfort him when Haein broke up with him back on the second semester of their first year in college, wherein he found himself wailing against your sheets at your dorm.

You told him that in your attempt to appease him when he broke up with her during their junior year, wherein he had to wipe at his tears furiously before fixing his tie because it was only hours before your graduation and both your parents downstairs are calling for a picture.

You tell it to him now too, in your attempt to convince both Yoongi and yourself, as he starfishes on your couch while reminiscing what could’ve been another anniversary (albeit choppy and not at all continuous) of the first time they held hands.

"Yes there is," he groans, his emotions maturing enough not to cry helplessly unlike the past breakups, but not enough to stop glomming onto you. “I don't want to talk about my favorite color again. I don't want to answer how many siblings I have. I don't want to be asked the extremely quirky question of whether I think pineapple belongs on pizza or not, again!"

"It's only normal to introduce yourself again and again until you find the right one for you!" you laugh, your self-built amusement keeping the entire situation light for you because if you don’t find a way to distract yourself from Yoongi holding onto Haein pathetically, just like how you do so with him, you’d be as devastated as him.

You’d be devastated too if you realize that there’s little to no chance of earning back the only person you’ve ever truly loved, if not more— except you’re not Yoongi, and he’s not Haein.

What you have to go through is more devastating because Yoongi’s never really been yours in the first place.

"But I want Haein to be right for me," he whines, his eyes sleepy from all the fatigue that comes with driving all the way to your place, just so he could be miserable around you and not apart from you. “Even if she's not, I want it to be her."

You’re quiet for awhile, and Yoongi doubts your silence because you’ve only ever chewed his ear off whenever he started moping about Haein. He’s noticed it ever since you were young; you’d never let a single second pass without overwhelming him with your words whenever he thought too deeply, too lowly about anything. You didn’t give him a break to even think when it comes to times like these, so Yoongi grows even more concerned when you give him a break.

He’s used to the noise that is you trying to distract him from everything that pains him.

"For the record, you already did those things twice in your life,” you murmur after some time, looking up from the glass of wine that Yoongi poured you and bought for your collection before he made the decision of crashing out over Haein in your living room.

"Oh my god, did I kiss someone while I was drunk? When you dragged me out for drinks last week? When-… when it was, uh, when it was the anniversary of me and her moving in and-…”

"No, you monogamous asshole," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. "You did it with Haein."

"What are you talking about?" Yoongi tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend what you’re saying.

You still look annoyed at him, as you’ve always done whenever he comes to you crying about her, but now, you look more subdued; like you’re a little more melancholic for god knows what reason (Yoongi knows it’s definitely not about him and Haein’s breakup), and a little less agitated at having to have this conversation for the nth time.

"I knew you first, Yoongi," you remind faintly, shoulders offering a weak shrug. "You had to do it all over again for Haein when she came into your life, but I don't see you complaining."

Yoongi hits pause on his agony to frown slightly, sitting up on your couch in order to nudge you with his shoulder. ”But that's different because I grew up knowing you. It's only natural for you to know me this way.”

The snort that leaves you borders on offensive, and Yoongi automatically narrows his eyes when he senses the hint of sarcasm in your smirk.

”You mean know you as intimately as your one and only girlfriend did? Maybe even more than Haein actually does know you?"

"If you put it that way it sounds weird, but yeah," Yoongi scoffs defensively, crossing his arms on his chest before looking up at the high ceilings of your apartment in surrender. “Aren't just close friends basically lovers without the formalities?"

Yoongi’s only ever been with one woman his entire life.

You figure it’s because of that so he doesn’t know what he’s saying.

You figure it’s because of Haein’s monopoly on his feelings and experiences that you convince yourself that Yoongi hasn’t been kicked around enough, to realize that what he’s saying is enough for you to assume a higher, closer place in his life.

You figure that Yoongi only knows love because of Haein and not love itself, enough for him to tell you that being close friends with him is the equivalent of loving him in that light, only without the coveted crown that comes with being his first and only love that Haein still possesses.

"You're right," you mutter, downing the rest of your wine and the assumption that Yoongi knows it’s him whom your hearts yearns for. "It does sound weird when you put it that way."

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s a manny.

More specifically and less confusingly, Yoongi’s a male nanny and he enjoys the job.

When you graduated two years earlier than he did, all he talked about was how happy and envious he was for you over being born earlier than him. He told you that you were unfair (and so were your parents) by bringing you to the world earlier and not as the same time as him, even detailing how he wants to be just a day older than you instead of you being ahead by two full birthdays.

When you graduated two years earlier than him, proving just how lucky you were (even if Yoongi argues that it’s your sheer intellect and not something as silly as luck) by landing a coveted job, all Yoongi could talk about was how he wanted to follow in your footsteps.

He’s not in the place where you are now, and although neither of you are bitter about it, some part of Yoongi still thinks what could’ve been.

“I should’ve never brought it up,” you apologize sincerely, nudging him with your knee to get the point across because you didn’t really mean to throw him into a loop.

You’re sure that Taehyung, your colleague who’s one year your junior and knew both you and Yoongi from college, didn’t really mean to offend the latter either, or atleast that’s what you think.

You only opened up about your brush-up with Taehyung in the elevator because it was your first time bumping into each other having worked in the same company for so long, and you thought (read: thought) that Yoongi would be amused about the interaction too.

You thought that Yoongi would be amused about your encounter with Taehyung because the third question he asks you (the first asking how you were doing and the second asking if you were single) ventures straight to Yoongi and what he was up to.

You thought he’d be amused that Taehyung still remembers how the both of you were attached to the hip despite being apart in year levels, but with the way Yoongi scowls (even for just the briefest second), you knew that you hit a sore spot.

“Nah. It’s okay,” Yoongi exhales, glossing over the random question of Taehyung asking if you were taken before willing himself to forget it completely, and moving onto the facet that you thought offended him. “It pays well, honestly. I didn’t think I would ever score a job like this.”

“Me neither,” you shrug lightly, being relieved when you see the playful roll of Yoongi’s eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he whines, throwing his head back in faux annoyance, to which he may or may not attribute to Hwayoung’s (one of the children he looks after) tendencies.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, Yoongs. It’s just that, well, I pictured that you’d be this hotshot data analyst, or I.T, or something equally as technical and now-…” you trail off, the smile in your face genuine. “You’re a hotshot nanny.”

“This wasn’t my dream. You knew that,” he snorts, asserting his point by once again bringing up your extensive knowledge about him. “But I was just strapped for cash this one time, and I was behind on rent and my stupid, complicated job at my old company didn’t pay on time– then you already knew about my neighbors being these newlyweds with twin babies and before I knew it, I was looking after them! I was making bank by staying up like I’ve always done, and I get an audience when I’m talking to myself!”

Yoongi doesn’t overestimate your familiarity for him, and neither does he overestimate your sincerity towards his decisions. You judge him, sure (you’ve never made your annoyance for his weakness for Haein and his affinity for their backwards-moving relationship a secret), but you’ve never actually discouraged him from anything.

You didn’t talk him out of getting back with Haein all those breakups ago.

You didn’t talk him out of applying for unrelated jobs outside of his degree.

You don’t talk Yoongi out of anything, even anyone, that’s capable of bringing him joy.

“You love what you’re doing and you’re earning a shit ton. You don’t have to be affected by what an old classmate is asking.”

“That old classmate is working in the same Fortune Global 500 company as you are,” he chuckles just a little bit bitterly, making you nudge his knee a little harder this time. “But still,” he deadpans. “It’s okay. I’ll get over it. I can consider this as practice anyway.”

“You’re… opening up a babysitting company…?”

“Stupid,” Yoongi snickers, squeezing your knee tightly before his hold disappears. “No! I mean practice before I have a family in the future!” he laughs, shaking his head at you as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world; as if his optimism for a future with Haein isn’t persistent. “I don’t know what’s Haein’s take on working if we ever do have children, but either way, it’s nice to know that I already have the basics mastered.”

Whenever you least expect it, even if you should know by now after spending so much of your life with Yoongi, he reminds you of your place.

“You and Haein aren’t even together now,” you mutter, keeping your gaze low.

“Can you shut up?” Yoongi groans, slouching in his seat. “I’m not saying we’re gonna have a family now. I’m saying maybe we’ll have one in the future.”

“But you’ve been broken up for years.”

“Again, Y/N,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, the playfulness between the two of you slowly but surely dissipating. “I need you to be quiet.”

( ♡ )

Your parents like throwing thanksgiving parties for you and your siblings.

It’s quite literally the joint event for all seasons because your parents don’t even dare to set out cake for anyone outside of your family to eat when the holidays come, promising to make the party they excessively fuss about to be an umbrella for the rest that they miss throughout the year.

It’s an event that none of you really asked for but your parents insist on anyway; mostly to celebrate their accomplished children, and just a tiny bit more to brag about the lives they’ve managed to cultivate.

Yoongi, like for every other thanksgiving party that your parents have thrown, shows up in his most prized suit. It’s his most expensive and cleanest one to date, and it’s a suit that he reserves only for your parents’ shenanigans; not for a relative’s wedding, and not for a rich friend’s event either — he wears it just for you.

“I’d hate to be your unemployed cousin during this time of the year,” he jokes, being unable to look around the room without locking eyes with atleast one of your relatives or mutual friends and waving at them, yet Yoongi’s not really peeved about it at all.

“Yeah, that side of the family hates us,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening when you realize that you have nothing to be anxious about, especially when you’re just across the person who knows you the most.

You have your fun in these thanksgiving parties, and Yoongi has his own. Your definition of fun means owning up to your achievements and not attributing them to luck, poking fun at your siblings behind their backs, and maybe striking up a conversation or two with a family friend that you forgot was more handsome than you thought he’d be.

Yoongi’s fun on the other hand, only ever revolved around you and Haein when it comes to these parties. Now that the latter wasn’t invited this year and he’s not capable of trailing after her like a puppy, feeling like an outcast amongst a sea of accomplished individuals, Yoongi can now trail after you, feeling like he belongs.

“Look at my parents. They keep boasting about you so much, you’d think they gave birth to you,” he nods his head to them, talking your aunt’s ear off as they keep gesturing to you, grinning when you catch their gaze.

“I don’t look at you as a brother. Gross!” your nose scrunches, making Yoongi roll his eyes and subsequently kick you lightly in the shin.

The two of you, thankfully, are okay. The awkward conversation that transpired about Taehyung’s curiosity and Yoongi’s own insistence of a future with Haein seems to never have sprung up in the first place.

You’ve known each other for a lifetime; it only felt appropriate, nevermind unhealthy, to let familiarity take its toll to make the two of you complacent enough to not apologize to each other and still be okay by the next day.

“My parents didn’t graduate college, but you knew that already,” Yoongi talks, gaze still holding out to his parents from a distance like it’s a stare he can’t break off because his eyes feel too comfortable. “They found a lot of things– a lot of people annoying because they made them feel inferior, but we never felt that way with your family, y’know?”

You’re not one to deny the distance between you and Yoongi; everything from your age difference, to how your childhood house overlooked his, and even to the feelings you share and don’t share, there’s an imbalance the two of you would never be able to tip.

“Your parents are genuine, close friends with my own, and your family never pitied ours,” he smiles, eyes crinkling in gratitude as he does so.

“I know that,” you return the sincerity, eyes set on his while his gaze is directed elsewhere. “But where’s all this coming from?”

“I see the way you look at me,” Yoongi shrugs, the second that it takes him to turn his attention to you making you falter.

You don’t know if you’re more scared or relieved at the possibility of Yoongi knowing about your feelings.

“And how do I look at you?” you test the waters, tilting at your head to try and closely gauge the tiny smile on his lips, but you come up empty.

“I can’t tell exactly, but you always look at me with some sort of guilt.”

“Why would I look at you with guilt?” a breathless laugh escapes you, the ease plastered on his face making you more and more pressured.

“I don’t know either! You tell me,” Yoongi laughs brightly, slinging an arm across your shoulder to which no one bats an eye to, because although they don’t know the two of you as well as you know each other, they have a semblance of it.

They know how you and Yoongi are friends; how you and Yoongi are close friends who are basically lovers without the formalities.

“We’ve known each other for a lifetime, Y/N. There’s nothing about one another that could surprise us anymore.”

“That sounds so boring,” you mutter, the words slipping out of you before you could even control them, effectively dampening the sentimental mood that Yoongi’s in.

“Excuse me?” he asks, a little bit offended but a lot more hurt over your comment.

“We’re not always gonna be the same, Yoongi,” you continue, staring at your feet with your voice low because it’s not like you can retract your words anymore; they’re as out there as you are when it comes to loving Yoongi silently.

“Do you… not want to be friends with me anymore?” he whispers, arm suddenly stalling as he tries to deduct whatever the hell you could possibly mean.

“Where did that come from?”

Yoongi chuckles uneasily, almost regretful he even said that outloud in fear of manifesting it.

“I don’t– I-I don’t know! It’s just weird with the way you’re talking. Like you purposely want us to change.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t,” he emphasizes. “If you’re already comfortable with the life that you have now, you don’t need to change,” Yoongi blinks slowly, unfamiliar with the way your eyes lack emotion. “I have you. I have the manny job. I have Haein.”

You’re quiet as you let Yoongi think and simmer in whatever he had to say, and he hates it.

“Is this life not enough for you yet?” he asks hesitantly, the premature scoff that leaves his throat making the bitterness linger for the slightest second. “What more could you want?”

You want to say it’s only him whom you lack, but you stay quiet.

You give Yoongi both the silence and the space to think, and he realizes that he’s never wanted to be overwhelmed by you more.

( ♡ )

Things have been awkward between you and Yoongi.

You didn’t mean to sound beyond ungrateful and out of touch, but simply (and maybe even arrogantly) put, Yoongi just didn’t get it.

He didn’t get where you were coming from because he’s only stayed in one place long enough to call her his future. He didn’t get what you could be possibly going through because Yoongi only longs for comfort and not change because the latter wouldn’t benefit him in any way.

He’s right about him having the manny job makes him happy because he gets a heavy check and a learning experience. He’s also right, even if he’s rarely accurate when faced with her, about having Haein because you figure that if you were in his position, you wouldn’t ask for anything more.

If you were anything like Yoongi by having had the privilege of harboring the person you love and the life-long burden of having to yearn for her, you would be satisfied too.

It’s been a full week since the two of you talked and it’s the longest you ever went without any communication. There’s no texts coming from your end, but there had been plenty of it coming from Yoongi’s.

Yoongi, your best friend, knows that you didn’t end your thanksgiving party in the happiest note because he happened. He felt apologetic about it ever since because he didn’t mean to sound self-absorbed to the point of projecting his selfishness onto you; painting you as the villain would be the last thing he’ll ever do because he knew that between the two of you, you were the stronger one.

You’re the more rational, focused one who studied the same degree as he did, yet actually amounted to something infinitely more even if he’s the younger one who had more opportunities than you ever did.

You’re the more unyielding one between the two of you, because you can stomach ignoring him for a week while he’s about to lose his mind.

Yoongi could send a hundred more texts wherein he pretends to have mistakenly sent a discreet, low-lying sorry to you (because the two of you barely ever apologized to each other) instead of another person. He could react to a message of yours from two months ago just to try and see if you would comment on it.

He could even call you by Haein’s name just to purposely piss you off because he’d settle for anything if it meant breaking you out of your silent treatment, yet you don’t even move an inch whether he calls you on your phone or lingers in the coffee shop you frequent at in your workplace.

Yoongi can pull a hundred different reasons with most of them involving how he’s running errands with the children he looks after. He can say that Hwayoung knows your name (and he’s not lying about it either) and that she asked where you worked, and the both of them just happened to be in the area during their morning walk. He can say every excuse under the sun just to try and get you to talk to him, but you won’t budge.

Yoongi doesn’t like change but he likes the days wherein you rant to him about your day and ask how his went, just like every week before this one. He doesn’t like growth in the guise of everything he’s comfortable with being stripped away, but he likes the nights wherein he could call you and ask you to look after the children in the living room while he goes to the bathroom, when really, he’s just standing from a distance to look at you coo at them.

So when Yoongi got the call from your brother, asking him for a favor to look after your nephew if only he was free for the day (he wasn’t, but he made it work nonetheless), he immediately jumped at the chance of maybe, just maybe seeing you drop by at your family’s home.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says under his breath when he locks eyes with you in the nursery, your presence only being a surprise to him alone because he didn’t think you were staying with your parents the entire week when normally, you’d be a little high-strung staying with them after three consecutive days.

“Just been busy. Sorry,” you reply quietly, your apology only being an afterthought because you’re unsure who’s at fault.

“Me too,” Yoongi clears his throat, bouncing your sleeping nephew on his arms as he indiscreetly makes his way to you. “I’m sorry too, I mean.”

It’s weird for the both of you to apologize to each other.

It’s weird for you to see Yoongi in your childhood house and have no one question his presence, because the scene of him cradling your brother’s baby with a cloth strewn over his shoulder and your sister’s headband on his head to keep his hair away from his face, only looks right.

It’s weird for Yoongi to see you so torn up over him, and it’s even weirder that all the anger he had towards you for ignoring him just immediately dissipated.

Yoongi puts your nephew down on his crib with a precise gentleness to him, his hands cramping up not because he spent so long trying to get him to calm down, but because he doesn’t ever know what to do with them whenever you face him.

“You didn’t have to do this for my brother, y’know? You shouldn’t feel pressured to say yes just because he asked,” you clear your throat, filling the silence in with your voice that Yoongi has missed so badly.

“What are you talking about? I’m not on the clock right now,” Yoongi furrows his brows, the frown on his face evident. “I’m not here as a manny. I’m here as an uncle.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he snorts, the snarky expression from him cutting through the tension between you. You could just throw your head back out of relief, knowing that Yoongi’s not that mad at you, but the both of you know you’re far from the clear.

You’re far from the clear when you don’t make a single move to come towards him across the room, even if it’s the only thing you wanted to do the past week.

You know you’re far from the clear and even further from moving on when it’s Yoongi who comes to you, his pace slow yet definitive, his fists unclenched for once as he practically leaps towards you in the end.

It takes one, two seconds for you to realize that although it’s Yoongi who made the first move to get close to you, it’s you who puts your hands on his cheeks, forehead rested against his with your eyes closed, tightly. Painfully.

Yoongi opens his eyes when you do, staying in your grasp even if he realizes that you almost kissed.

“You can read my mind, Yoongi, right?” you whisper, pulling apart briefly to look up at him, yet close nonetheless because you could still practically hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Yeah,” he swallows the lump in his throat, the hand he has around your waist loosening for just a fraction of a second, yet you don’t need it— you don’t need him to unravel further to confirm what you’ve always known.

“So I don’t need to say it out loud,” you smile tightly, the shaky sigh that leaves you making Yoongi’s lips purse out of guilt. “So I don’t need to say it out loud that I love you,” you say in your mind, eyes already stinging even if Yoongi hasn’t let go of you yet.

“You don’t,” he affirms, his voice hoarse as his hand on your waist still doesn’t budge, the other cradling your wrist because he can’t decipher if it’s him wanting to keep your hand on his face, or if it’s him keeping you away. “You can read my mind too, right?”

You nod earnestly, the smile that he gives you even being tighter than yours.

“Right,” he clears his throat. “So I can’t— I-I don’t have to say it either,” he whispers. “I don’t need to say out loud that the feeling isn’t mutual,” you read in his mind, the silent admission effectively relieving you of the weight you’ve carried ever since you knew him.

Yoongi’s phone ringing is the only thing that snaps the both of you from your daze, your immediate composure being shaky despite having prepared for this for so long because you knew it anyway.

You know that no matter how much Yoongi looks like he belongs to you, your life, and everything in between, you still won’t stand a chance against the person who’d make him drop everything new for the promise of coming home to everything he’s familiar with.

“It’s uhm— it’s Haein,” he explains, the nervous grin he has on face being infectious despite your very own appearing for a much different reason. “She wants to talk about things.”

“You don’t have to let me know,” you shake your head, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Go, Yoongi.”

You’re not ignoring Yoongi anymore.

Apropos of nothing, Yoongi and Haein are talking again.

They’re not together, yet, but you know how it always ends between them anyway, so you steel yourself for the worst despite it being Yoongi’s best.

( ♡ )

You badly want to change.

You badly want to change and although it’s not Yoongi’s fault, the way he hovers around you makes you feel otherwise.

You already made well on your promise of not shutting him out whenever things get tough for you, but even then, no part of the way you’ve been acting recently ever appeases Yoongi.

He’s accustomed to you growing like you always have been, yet he didn’t even think that you changing bit by bit could ever impact him this greatly, Sure, Yoongi’s happy that you’re no longer ignoring him intentionally, but his stomach still turns every time you do reply to him at an ungodly hour and he’s reminded of your little joke (he hopes it is) that you’re more active at that time of night because of your extracurriculars.

Yoongi’s happy that you still turn to him, but a large part of him, if not the entirety, grows bitter when he sees you looking happier nowadays and he can’t tell if it’s because of something you’ve already told him or if it’s because of something totally unrelated and how he could never know, because the one thing that he made you promise is for you to keep being his friend.

You’re still Yoongi’s friend before, during, and after your confession, and he doesn’t know if that placates him.

Yoongi doesn’t want to amount to anything less than a friend to you but he doesn’t want to be your family either. He wants to be whatever it is in your life that knows why you’re smiling so much and why you barely rant to him.

He wants to be whatever, whoever, it is your life in order to know that you’re seeing Taehyung right from your mouth and not from your brother’s like he’s a jaded suitor that’s been anticipating bad news.

Yoongi wants to matter enough, as if he already doesn’t, to know about you having a boyfriend.

“You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?” he spits, the way he barrels into your apartment with his own keycard being unceremonious.

Yoongi knows today’s your rest day and he knows that by this time, you’d be on a call with him to ask about his day and entertain Hwayoung who keeps butting into your conversation. By this time, it would’ve still been you and him, whether or not Haein and Taehyung were in the picture.

“You’re hooking up with the guy that talked shit about me, and you didn’t bother telling me?”

“Taehyung didn’t talk shit about you,” you scoff, closing the door after him as you follow him into your living room.

Yoongi’s eyes widen comically, heart clenching when he realizes that you have no comeback for anything else he’s said, jaw clenching as he points a finger at you.

“He fucking looked down on me-…”

“He was just shocked!”

“Are you seriously defending him instead of being on my side?!” he exclaims, the sarcastic chuckle that leaves his lips rubbing you wrong because for any other person and any other instance, you’d laugh with him too.

“Do you not expect me to?” you snarl. “You’re dragging my boyfriend’s name to an argument that you started, and you don’t expect me to defend him?”

“You’re being a hypocrite,” he grits, nostrils flaring in sheer anger.

“And if I am, then what about it?!” you throw your hands into the air, poking your finger at his chest yet he refuses to get out of your face. “Have you not ever been a hypocrite when it comes to defending the person you love?”

It’s not your glare that gets him to back off.

It’s not your hostile, defensive nature towards Yoongi, in defense of Taehyung, that makes him deadly silent.

It’s you, holding up a mirror for the same blind defensiveness that he’d always carry whenever your words just barely graze Haein’s honor.

You’re guilty of judging Yoongi, but not of dissuading him from pursuing Haein like he’s always done — Yoongi, however, can’t say the same for himself.

“I hope Taehyung’s worth it,” he spits. “I hope he’s worth treating me like this, because not once have I ever made you less of a priority even when Haein was still in the picture.”

The use of was makes you pause, the past tense making you blink owlishly and finally take a step back from Yoongi as if it’s just your proximity to him that was the raging problem.

“Haein was my girlfriend but I never, never turned my back on you. I never made things awkward for us. I never stopped showing up for you, even if it costed me with her. I never made you feel the way you’re making me feel now,” Yoongi heaves, jaw clenching from how hard he’s ignoring the lump in his throat.

You chuckle sarcastically, the briefest glimpse you have of yourself in Yoongi’s words making you feel utterly pathetic. “Yeah? And how am I making you feel now?”

“Like we haven’t known each other our whole lives.”

( ♡ )

It’s been months since you and Yoongi properly talked to each other.

Life got in the way between the two of you and as much as Yoongi didn’t want to push, you didn’t want to grow out of the comfort that you already had with Taehyung either.

There were still texts and calls, but in between Yoongi getting whisked away for his employers’ vacation for a change and you being content with your job and your boyfriend as your comfort, neither of you made any drastic moves after your fight.

The only apology that Yoongi could get out of you after storming off from your apartment was you asking if he had already eaten dinner two nights after your fight, while the only apology that your close friend could ever give to you was that he hadn’t (even if he actually did), just to get your conversation rolling.

You feel guilty reserving parts of you from Yoongi, namely Taehyung and how he fits into your life, even if it’s always been established that there’s no use hiding. You know a terrible lot of information about how Yoongi and Haein are in bed against your will, and Yoongi has an awful amount of knowledge about your preference for condoms and how you like your men.

There’s guilt in your chest and you don’t think it would ever disappear for as long as Yoongi’s still in your life. Being defensive about anyone outside of your family and Yoongi, specifically because neither are synonymous no matter how much Yoongi keeps recurring from your family’s mouths, is something entirely brand new.

Taehyung is new to your system, just as Yoongi was all those years ago, and it scares him more than it scares you.

The concept of lagging behind someone who had just been a casual topic of interest (more specifically because he had seemingly offended you and him) then became your boyfriend overnight feels like a giant slap on the face because Yoongi, not once, has ever entertained the possibility that you’d be as lovesick as him.

He didn’t think that you were also capable of being defensive about a loved one who isn’t him, just like he is over Haein.

He didn’t think about how angry and offended he’d feel seeing you become so protective of someone who doesn’t know you like he does, because in Yoongi’s defense, Taehyung doesn’t know shit about you.

Taehyung does not and will never know you like he does, because he never trailed after you and idolized you in everything that you do, so much so that he only pursued his degree because you did before him.

Unlike Yoongi, Taehyung never had to be taught by you how to drive and what it means to have his family’s manual transmission car stall right after the stoplight turned green, because it meant you having to comfort Yoongi who was in tears after being honked at, and you lying straight through your teeth to his parents by saying that he was excellent and should definitely be trusted with driving the car alone with Haein to take her on dates.

Unlike the person you know the most, Taehyung never had to have the conversation with your dad about looking after you in college despite being younger, yet puffing his chest out nonetheless to agree because he made it his personal mission.

Taehyung will never be Yoongi and the latter takes pride in it, except now, he feels that Taehyung doesn’t ever want to be in his position—

Why would Taehyung vie for his position when it’s clear that he’s at an advantage?

Yoongi ignores his feelings and grievances the best that he can, yet unlike the old him who could endure so much shit because it meant having you to lean on, he can’t help but explode now that it’s you whom he can’t see eye to eye with.

“Taehyung and I were thinking of eloping,” you say out of the blue, your admission feeling appropriate (in your eyes, atleast) because you and Yoongi have so much to catch up on after being apart and he strayed the topic towards your sister who’s expecting her first child.

You thought it was your turn to say something equally as life-changing, because with the way Yoongi hasn’t talked about Haein once and you assuming that it’s because they were back together and he was just shy to talk about it, you bit the bullet first.

You thought wrong, clearly, because the happiness completely drains away from Yoongi the moment you finished your sentence.

“What?” he asks. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, don’t be stupid,” he repeats, eyes narrowing at you in anger. “You’ve only been in a relationship with him for months-…”

“I’ve known him for years-…”

“And that still doesn’t justify you marrying him just because you feel like it,” he spits, your revelation far from making him happy like you thought it would. “Stop being stupid, Y/N. You’re not marrying Taehyung just because you’re in another one of your impulsive moods.”

Your mouth falls open at that, scoffing in disbelief because Yoongi isn’t letting up in the slightest with the way there’s no hint of his outburst just being a sick joke.

“I’m not being impulsive. I really do want to marry him!”

“Oh yeah? How’s married life going to work out for you when-…”

“I only told you because I wanted to let you know. I wasn’t asking you to weigh in, Yoongi,” you snap, crossing your arms in defense while Yoongi only steps towards you.

The thought of eloping with Taehyung crossed your mind once after a weird dream, and you thought nothing about it at first so you texted him and went right back to sleep. What you didn’t expect was that he didn’t hate the idea at all (in fact, he was even happy that you thought about it), and Taehyung’s confirmation for something unlike you, for something that resembled to settling and being comfortable, changed you completely.

“You don’t expect me to interfere when you tell me you’re going to make the biggest mistake of your life?” Yoongi huffs, his eyes widening over your seeming indifference.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that getting married to Taehyung would be the biggest mistake I’ll ever make?”

“I’m your closest friend! I know you better than you know yourself and-…”

“You don’t,” you retort. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all or even respect me when you think the worst of Taehyung when you barely even know him!”

“I could know Taehyung for a decade and still think the fucking worst of him!” Yoongi raises his voice, laughing humorlessly as he runs his hand through his hair. “I could know Taehyung or any other guy for a lifetime and still think that they won’t ever be good enough for you!”

The laugh that escapes you is offensive.

It’s as offensive as Yoongi making your graduation about him by crying to your sheets because Haein broke up with him, and it’s as offensive as you scoffing to his face when he said that having his job serves as his practice for a future with her.

“What, because you’re in love with me?” you spit, trying to trigger something in him just so he could leave you be, for good, because everything that’s he’s saying to now– with the defensiveness you’ve only heard from yourself whenever he rationalized trying to get back with his first love — takes you right back to your previous pining.

Yoongi’s only silent, trusting that you could read his mind, and you’ve never hated knowing him as much as you do than now.

“You’re telling me that you’re in love with me, right when I decided I was sick of loving you my whole life?” you whisper, the tears stinging from the corner of your eyes making your heart clench. You’ve been called too stubborn. Too calculating and too heartless, even by your own family, and for you to unfold in front of Yoongi this easily makes you wail. “Are you shitting me, Yoongi? Are you— are you out of your goddamn mind to tell me this?”

Yoongi looks down in shame, the truth of him being over his first love not relieving the weight on his shoulders like he foolishly expected, because everything he falls short when he sees you crying.

“I didn’t want to get back to Haein with something weighing so heavily on my chest,” he whispers. “I didn’t want to get back with her because you just ignoring me for a fucking week hurt more than any breakup I’ve had with her.”

Yoongi, vividly, can remember how distraught he was. He can remember how he can’t recall a time wherein he didn’t have you to depend on, as if he didn’t ever outgrow the phase of him idolizing you and following you wherever you went.

As if he’s still the seventeen year old him asking to borrow your slippers for Haein, while deep down seeking your approval for her because he didn’t want to do anything without you beaming at him.

“I-I felt… I felt like I was losing my mind, Y/N.”

“Can you read my mind right now?” you ask, shakily exhaling as you look down on the floor.

“That’s a really stupid thing to bring up right now,” Yoongi breathlessly chuckles, letting his hair brush past his eyes because he’s a little terrified of looking how distraught, how disappointed, you are. “But no.”

“Do you not want to say it out loud?” he asks, making you laugh silently as you gathered the strength to sit next to him, yet not as close as you always did. “Whatever it is, it’s not like I’m going to give up now,” he mumbles, looking down on your hand that’s rested on the cushion, your pinky finger just centimeters away from his, yet he can’t move to hold you like he wants to.

You wanted Yoongi and he wants you, and there’s only so much points where you could intersect until you say what’s been lingering in your mind, just like every other apology the both of you have passed up.

“We need some time apart, Yoongi. We need space,” you mumble. “We need to figure it out on our own before we figure it out together because-…”

Yoongi finishes your thought for you, head tilted down and hand outstretched with the hope that comes with being a little too late for someone who’s waited a little too long.

“Because we’ve known each other our whole lives.”

Yoongi refuses to break even if he comprehends exactly what you’re saying, because there’s no point in it when he knows he’ll never be angry at you. You can defend him and you can hurt him all at once, yet he’ll never curse you, simply because there’s no point picking at wounds he’ll keep on licking anyway.

“Do we just-…” he shrugs lightly, pinky finger painfully close to yours until he makes the heavy move of lifting it, just enough to to cover yours. “Do we find our way back to each other? Is that it?”

“That’s the plan, hopefully,” you smile, sucking in a breath you never thought would be this heavy. “I’ll find you if you find me.”

“I’ll find you when you find me,” Yoongi corrects. “We’ll find our way back to each other.”

You resent comfort and Yoongi abhors change, but there’s only so much the both of you could take until you realize that the only thing constant in your lives is each other, no matter how many seasons pass you by.

For Yoongi, it’s you.

Despite everything, it’s still you.

( ♡ )

The year that you spend with Yoongi flitting every once in awhile like he’s only a friend, and not the man you’ve first loved, is a year you didn’t think you’d ever spend.

Despite you and Taehyung separating amicably, he still took with him the love that you sincerely invested. He wasn’t the first boyfriend you’ve ever had, and although you were no stranger to heartbreak, he still imprinted a large chunk of him onto you.

At one point in your life, you did want to marry him; and at several points in your life after him that you don’t even think of denying, you really thought it would be him if not for the life that you led.

You don’t resent Yoongi for loving you a little too late because there’s no point in it, as much as Taehyung doesn’t even hate you in the slightest for letting him let you go in pursuit of the change that the both of you badly needed.

Yoongi could never bring himself to hate you either, even if being apart from you gnawed at him from the inside. Making something out of himself had been his biggest plan outside of pursuing you from a distance, because as soon he tendered in his resignation letter to his employers and cried right in front of the children he looked after, Yoongi won’t ever lie and say that he wasn’t scared.

Yoongi resents change even if you’re someone who yearns for it, and even with the terror that wracks his bones of starting new without you being there for him as his safety net, Yoongi does it scared anyway.

He does it scared with one eye closed as he puts the degree he’s only learned to love because of you to work, developing an app for families to look for certified, trustworthy nannies.

He does it scared anyway with his heart barely into himself and fully into you when he shows up a full night early before your family’s thanksgiving party, donning his reserved suit as he clutches a new pair of house slippers, which again, like always and just like he is, is only for you.

For you, it’s Yoongi.

Despite everything, it’s still Yoongi.

#first fic of 2025 :D YIPPEEEEE #yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi oneshot

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pacofprunes · 1 day ago

Text

let me help ya’ relax.

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — noncon, public (voyeurism), tears, kissing, use of the word bitch, use of the word rape, pussy kissing, choking, slight / barely but manhandling,

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

“hey beautiful.”

“the hell?”

standing right in front of you, or rather over you, player 230. it was night and everyone was asleep or sitting in a corner somewhere. you didn’t know this guy beside seeing him the first two games and seeing him act like a fucking lunatic. you sit up and gather yourself.

“what do you want?”

“oh you know, just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.”

he does a cheeky smile. you stare. what do you even say to that. thank you i guess…?

“uh—”

“no need to thank me, it’s what i do. just such a great fucking guy right?”

he picks at the cross on his neck before pulling a pill out and holds it out to you.

“you use?”

“what?”

“drugs. do you do drugs? or have you done them before?”

how the fuck did he manage to bring his shit in here for one, and for two; why the hell is he more worried about doing drugs rather than living. that’d be the last thing you’d be thinking about.

“no. i dont do them and i dont have any interest in that.”

he does a fake pouty face.

“come on babe, loosen up ya’know? don’t wanna stress your pretty little face out.”

he pops the pill in his own mouth. where was this guy going with this? he clearly wants to stay here, hence the big blue ‘O’ on his jacket. so if he’s bored he should go talk to the people on his side. how the hell could you relax watching people you’ve gotten close to or even have just spoke to once die? meanwhile this dudes been jumping around having the time of his life while he’s been here. if this game ended tomorrow, he’d join it again a million times over. or maybe he wouldn’t but the drugs in his system sure as hell would.

“yeah, no… i appreciate your kindness but i don’t even know you and i think i’m just gonna lay back down.”

he grabs your hand and starts shaking it aggressively.

“my names thanos, it’s great to meet you! now you know who i am.”

he smiles again. you just stare. that’s not how it works at all. you could tell he was waiting for you to introduce yourself but you just brush it off and tell him again you’re going to lay back down. before you get to turn over and lay though, he grabs your face with both of his hands and presses your lips together into a deep kiss. he holds you there for a good while, and it felt like you were suffocating.

“what the fucks wrong with you?”

“baby, you could be my new drug! change that ‘X’ into an ‘O’, we’d be absolutely unstoppable!”

“this is real life you idiot, not some fucking video game!”

you slap his hand away from you and try telling him to get lost, but he just grabs your wrist and pushes you back onto your bed. you yell at him to get the fuck off of you but he just presses a finger up to your mouth hushing you.

“sex is a great way to relieve stress. just let me make you feel good. don’t be too loud though, unless you want the others to see us. but by all means, do it. it’s only making me harder.”

he laughed and winked at you. you suck the air through your teeth and he still holds onto your left wrist with one of his hands while letting the other one push at his chest. you’re more cautious with your voice level now and in a whisper you try again to get him to go.

“i don’t want to have sex with you, can you just go? go jack off in the corner or mess with literally any other girl here!”

he ignores you for the time being and goes to push your pants down, but with your free hand you grab his hand to stop him.

“gee babe, how sweet of you to wanna hold my hand! but uh, i kinda need it to get to the fun part.”

he ignores your hand continuing to grab at his, not proving to be much of use at all besides annoying him. he pushes your pants down, and then your panties to your ankles; acting as sort of some form of restraint. it would prove to be somewhat more difficult to kick at him now as your footing would get caught in the pant legs. he sits up off of your chest finally and starts to pull his pants and boxers off. you wanted to scream at him so badly to get off of you, to scream for some help, but you knew nobody would and all they’d do was watch. it wasn’t anybody’s problem and they weren’t going to make it theirs.

he cups your sex and starts rubbing circles at your tiny little hole to get you all soaked and ready for him. he leans down and he kisses it. he was literally about to start making out with your fucking pussy.

you squeezed your eyes shut and a couple tears come sliding down. god, first you’re in this game that seems normal, then people around you start getting shot, nobody wants to go home, and now you’re getting rapped by some crazy ass drug addict that calls himself fucking thanos. thanos! you’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel his thumb on your face and him wiping your tears. you slightly open your eyes and he kisses you again. this time with your free hand you push as hard as you can at his face. he moves back and he makes an ‘ow’ face and rubs his forehead. he grabs your used to be free wrist and just pushes it to your side and holds it there.

“it’s always the prettiest bitches that play fucking hard to get.”

he lines up his cock with your somewhat wet hole. he maybe would’ve spent a little more time prepping you but you just ticked him off and he wasn’t going to help you anymore than he already has.

“it’s alright, i’ll have screaming my name and this whole place will know it by the time we’re done baby!”

oh god you were gonna be sick. you feel the sudden intrusion and you immediately tense. biting your lip back from screaming and shaking your head, tears flying left and right. you try to bend and claw your fingers at his hands that are holding yours down but it proves to be futile. you yell at him, while still keeping your voice down to stop and that he’s gotten enough and that he should go.

“agh—please—”

“please? you—fuck’—you want me to please keep going? well you don’t have to tell me that, i was already going to!”

he keeps a fast pace going, and the bed might as well of slid off of the shitty bars it was being held up on. everybody sleeping above you could definitely feel the whole thing moving. you try to fish your legs out of your pants legs to at least have some sort of way of pushing him away but it proves to be slightly harder than you thought.

“fuck babe—you feel so—fuck- so fucking good.”

he sucks the air through his teeth breathing heavy, while you’re doing the opposite and holding your breath.

“god you’re so tight, and you’re so — m’- so hot. i wish i could feel every inch of your — agh - you’re body but you’re too much of a fucking bitch, so i gotta keep ya’ still.”

he stops at an in thrust and moves his face down to yours, causing his cock to go deeper in you and causing you to bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. he press his forehead to yours, your sweat causing them to almost stick together. he whispers to you while keeping perfect eye contact.

“but your my fucking bitch right? you’ll be my dumbed out little whore, baby. should get a tattoo on ya’ that says thanos’s bitch.”

he laughs moves down to your neck, starting to kiss all over it. leaving sweet marks all over as he starts thrusting into you again. you just feel his heavy hot breath against your neck and you just stare up at the bars above you and hold in the choked up sob threatening to come out. you feel his cock tense in you, threatening to shoot his load out and your eyes widen. he starts thrusting harder. he lets go of both your wrists and before you can even breathe out, relieved from the slightest bit of less pressure, he wraps both his hands around your throat and looks you in the eyes the whole entire time.

“come on bab — fuckk’- babe. look at me pleas- come on, watch how good you — you make me feel.”

you start to scratch at his his hands and his arms. he’d most definitely be marked up all over by the morning. finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe. you finally decide to look him in the eyes, sending him a pleading look to stop and to quit choking you, your face slowly starting to turn a shade of blue. upon your eyes looking at him, seeing those teary orbs and pleading face, it sends him over the edge. he sends a curse your way before he surprisingly pulls out his load going all over the bed. he lets go of your neck and pulls up his boxers, falling on top of you. his weight making it hard for you to completely catch your breath. you start to choke and hiccup on your own tears before he looks up at you and strokes his hand across your face, catching a few tears in his hand.

“i told you it wouldn’t be bad at all. don’t you feel a little more at ease now? are you prepared for the games tomorrow?”

not at all. was he fucking delusional? he lays his head back on your chest, looking up at you like a child, and rubs his hands up your sides.

“tomorrow when we vote, you better change to an ‘O’. wouldn’t want my pretty girl to betray me after all.”

he does a fake pout at the end of that. you go to sit up to pull your pants back up but he stops you.

“uhm, allow me. wouldn’t want you to do any hard labor! i’ll take care of it all for ya.’”

he pulls your panties and your pants up and sits up off of you, getting his own pants situated. he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the top of it, looking at you in your eyes with a smile, your eyes still watering. and you send a glare his way.

“ouch babe! you hurt me here.”

he smacks his chest a couple times where his heart was.

“i’d stay here and sleep with you, but my friends will want a piece of you too if they find out that’s what i did tonight.”

you shudder at the thought of that.

“but dont worry. i’ll see you tomorrow. i’ll see ya at breakfast, yeah?”

he pulls you in for one long kiss and you push him away and he almost falls into the next bed over. he grabs at his heart again dramatically.

“ugh, i don’t wanna leave you. we’ll talk tomorrow though, kay? maybe have some more fun too.”

he winks at you again before turning over his shoulder and literally skipping away, running with his arms in the air and his hands in fists. you just hug your knees, crying into them, and now more than ever you wanted to go home. god this was so fucked. you just wanted to go to the bathroom and wash all over yourself but you knew they wouldn’t let you in. you just keep a tight grip around your knees, trying to find some sort of solace while you’re stuck here.

#tw dark content #tw noncon #yandere squid game #squid game x reader #yandere thanos #thanos x reader #thanos smut #yandere thanos x reader #yandere squid game x reader #Choi su bong x reader #yandere choi su bong #squid game smut #tw smut #tw dark themes #tw dark fic

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stealingyourbones · 13 hours ago

Note

Danny, being a halfa, falls under the strange category of people who can converse with the dead and act in their names. Most mediums simply convey messages. It was rare for someone to be able to fulfill a ghost’s dying request and have that act tied to the ghost’s core.

Honestly it’s annoying.

He doesn’t get any alone time anymore for homework or hobbies. The dead are constantly pestering Danny to help with their desires - which, sure, it helps them move on which means they’re out of Danny’s hair, but come on!! Give a guy a break! Just because he doesn’t need as much sleep as a fully living person doesn’t mean he can go without entirely!

“No Scott,” Danny repeated for the fifth time, “I am not flying to California tonight. Do you know how far that is? Literally the other coast of this massive continent. Meet me there in August like everyone else on the list.”

Spending the first spring break of college creating a map and calendar for Last Rites was not something Danny expected when he moved to Gotham.

Why did this city have so many ghosts?! It was ridiculous. And he thought Amity Park was bad? At least the ghosts here were mostly Shades. Not visible to anyone unless they were also dead-adjacent or had The Sight or a bloodline curse or a magical amulet… you know what? There were enough of those in this curse ridden city, why couldn’t these ghosts go find one of those people instead? Danny was exhausted.

So exhausted he didn’t notice the vigilante dropping down from the rooftop.

“Hey there kid, you alri-”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny waved a hand dismissively at the voice without looking up. “Wait in line like everyone else. But honestly you’d be better off coming back tomorrow when I’ve had some sleep.”

“Think maybe you outta get started on that sleep now, bud?” the voice behind him spoke in a calm careful tone.

One Danny had heard all too often since dying.

His head jerked sideways to stare wide-eyed at Nightwing, who tensed just a little as if expecting Danny to run or fight. Instead he let out a groan and slumped onto the park bench, rubbing his eyes to ease the burn of fatigue. He’d been coming out to this park at the corner of campus each night to keep the Shades from mobbing him all day long in classes, but they’d spread the word around Gotham that he was here and his precious spring break had become a non-stop line of requests and arguments. Made sense he’d caught the attention of one of the Bats. Should have expected it sooner.

Danny ignored all the voices around him and looked at Nightwing directly as he prattled off his usual list when someone caught him talking to thin air.

“No, I’m not hallucinating. I got all my Rogue Gallery immunizations the day I checked onto campus. I’m not schizophrenic. The only meds I take are for adhd and the occasional Tylenol. I’m not a danger to myself or others. Unless they attack me first.”

Nightwing nodded along, but tilted his head at the end.

“I’m talking to the dead,” Danny answered the unspoken question in a tired monotone, waiting for the usual skepticism or plea for help with lost loved ones.

“Oh. Okay then.”

“What?” That wasn’t expected.

“No yeah, that makes sense.”

Danny was sure his jaw was on the ground. “You… you believe me?”

“Well sure,” the hero shrugged and chuckled. “I can’t see ghosts myself but I know a couple magicians who work with one, and my little brother Robin has a ghost on his team - she’s actually visible most of the time so I don’t know if that’s a special skill or something else going on. But I’m glad you’re okay and don’t need any emergency medication. I know a couple 24 hour pharmacies that would help but it’s nice when they’re not needed. We don’t get a lot of mediums around Gotham holding court at night so you really can’t fault me for checking in.”

Danny was still floating in the relief of not being questioned or doubted. That hadn’t happened since Jazz found out his secret. She’d had plenty of questions about his halfa status, of course, but never called him crazy for talking to things others couldn’t see. Even Sam and Tucker would forget sometimes and give him strange looks before realizing he was dealing with a Shade, Wisp, or Memory.

He didn’t realize he was wobbling until Nightwing’s arms shot out to stabilize him.

Danny blinked up at the pretty face that was trying not to chuckle, held by strong arms, and so far past tired he might be getting delirious after all because his brain seemed to have lost its filter and he said out loud,

“You actually believe me. I think I love you.”

Then the horrifying embarrassment hit at the same time as Nightwing’s laughter. Which… sounded delighted rather than mean spirited?

“Well now it’s your turn to wait in line, cuz that’s the fourth confession I’ve had this week!” They both devolved into snorts and giggles, Danny still relying on those arms for balance, but when they’d caught their breath the vigilante said, “Come on, you’ve really got to get some sleep. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

Ignoring the whispers and grumbles of the Shades was easier with someone walking beside him.

This is so incredibly cute oml. It’s so rare to see the bats actually go with the flow and god it isn’t done enough. 12/10 immaculate, glorious.

The entire plot I can see so clearly in my mind dude:

Danny chatting to Nightwing as they walk to his dorm

Nightwing asking some casual questions about ghosts and Danny asking about vigilante work.

Nightwing informs the Bats of Danny as he might be a valuable asset in the future.

Nightwing helps free shades with Danny and he realizes why Danny is so incredibly tired all the time.

Nightwing managing to stumble into Danny every day of his break, slowly getting to know each other more and more and becoming really good friends (perhaps lovers 👀).

Wonderful stuff man ty for the ask!

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #bones replies

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summertimesadnessirl · 3 days ago

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Sometimes I think it's like...

Cis people also put a lot of effort into passing.

Or we're encouraged to feel weird about not meeting gender based expectations socially?

I don't know if it's dysphoria, it's not fair to use that word.

I literally am cis and I have felt, in my life, all the time, that I'm not a "real" woman in some way. Not in a way where like, I feel cool and empowered by the idea of being without gender. I thought maybe that was it at one point. Like "maybe I'm trans. I get along better with male friends who aren't attracted to me and treat me like one of the guys. I get along well with trans people and I find some gender based expectations really hard." I don't think I am, because I can understand the idea of wanting to do drag or not talk about your gender online but when I think of people misgendering me when I am not doing those things it feels really bad.

But? Like? That feeling is taught to you when you're a kid. It never goes away. Your body isn't gender dimorphic enough. People don't treat you like they treat the other people of your gender. They are all confused by things you do. Things they do confuse you.

In my case I decided I'm just otherkin. I don't talk about it much. People take it the wrong way. I am not like the other people, even the other people with a lot of my mental health diagnoses, because I'm secretly not a human being like they are. My mom wanted a baby and came home for lunch because she was ovulating, and it was someone else who wasn't my father and they weren't human and they didn't want me but they impregnated her. They suck for leaving me. Whatever. It's fine for everyone to feel like I don't fit because they're another species and they let me live here in their community but we misunderstand each other all the time. I try not to creep them out if they aren't mean.

But like... why do you think all those "femininity coach" "feminine energy" people are radicalizing so many cis women? Why is that the title of "the feminine mystique?" Men definitely deal with that, too. Cis people don't stop being insecure about their gender identity just because they are cis.

So that's part of it.

But also like?

When you first meet a nb person specifically, you're like ???

Suddenly you realize how many things you say and do have a gendered component in your brain.

Like in animal crossing?

The og animal crossing gave you the choice of saying

"Isn't it cute?" Or "Isn't it cool?" To tell the game your gender.

Isn't that weird? Like?

I didn't realize that's what the question meant, because it didn't say, and then I kind of felt insane for like a week after. Like???

Cool and cute. If you think of it as a question like "each one of these means a gender" you know which they mean is which. But if you just objectively say "do you think your name is cool or cute?" Why would someone think that? Also how do I immediately know which is which when you tell me cool and cute are the two genders?

I was a kid. They didn't have stuff about gender all over the internet then.

This was brand new information.

It was like...

Baby's first non dualism.

Idk.

People don't realize how much of manners is based on the person's gender unless they actually think about it.

And the older people are, the more important manners are to them.

Probably if they are not evil, you can just tell them how to do manners for you and they will leave you alone. Which isn't a good solution but that's the problem for people who aren't evil.

Okay but can anyone articulate the mindset that leads older people to feel like they NEED to know people's gender identity all the time? Like what's going on there

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reidrum · 20 hours ago

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glory of the snow

note: the return of insecure!reader my beloved <3 i had a bunch of requests to bring her back so i hope we like it! this is really just a gentle reminder from spencer that we should be kinder to ourselves. also i wanted to have them actually fuck but it didn't seem right to fit that in here so ,,, part 2 question mark who is to say. anyways my inbox is always open for any thoughts, comments, questions, musings all of it! love y'all mwah

summary: you freak out when spencer walks in on you accidentally, and he just loves you too much to let it go

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, masturbation (r, just mentions), heavy petting/kissing, comfort, talks of intimacy issues, self-deprecating reader

wc: 3k

“Oh, sweet girl.”

Three words, maybe two and one syllable, that in any other instance would have had you melting into a puddle at the softness it reared. Words that have so easily turned you into a preening cat but are now aimed at you, albeit no judgement from his end, with no room for escape.

Spencer had come home after a long day of paperwork when he first heard it. He would have brushed it off if it didn’t happen again moments later, and louder. Concerned, he walks toward the bedroom, a flush rushing to his face as he comes to recognize what it is. A small crack of the door allowed him the glorious sight of you in the center of the bed, hand between your legs, eyes shut in ecstasy. You’re mesmerizing to him and he really can’t bring himself to look away, and he doesn’t notice himself subconsciously leaning on the door causing a faint creak that alarmed you to his presence. In that moment, however, he’s less worried about scaring you, and more about the overwashing look of shame on your face.

The soft creak of the door pulled you out of your daze, screaming when you saw the figure behind the door. Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets nearly, heartbeat still racing with adrenaline from when you haphazardly threw the blanket over yourself. You were conflicted, but getting caught doing something that is a common and completely normal instance in relationships really shouldn’t make you feel this guilty. Although you do know the guilt was created by a previous version of you where you had told Spencer that you wanted to take the pace of your relationship slowly, and had little to no desire to engage in such activities for the time being. Or so you said.

He cautiously steps closer, careful not to startle you further, “I’m not upset, or anything.”

You’re not upset either, you’re mortified. “I lied to you.”

“You did…but I don’t think you meant to, right?”

There had been a time where you were tangled all up in him, and poor Spencer, his hands were in the wrong place at the wrong time to no fault of his own and entirely yours, and your shutdown was unavoidable. The blood in your veins seized up like crystallizing water turning into ice, paralyzing both the physical and mental before you could realize.

Intimacy for you was a complicated concept. While it wasn’t novel or unwanted, physical intimacy was something you struggled to accept with open arms. Call it a consequence of your self perception, but it was hard to accept the soft touch of love when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Spencer never minded, although his heart ached to make you see yourself the way he saw you, he was always more than willing to meet you where you were.

It almost pains you with how understanding Spencer was of the whole situation because you knew any other person would be deeply upset. Every other person was upset.

Spencer never was just any other person, you suppose.

“I don’t know how to explain this.” Another lie, you could easily explain the reason.

It’s not that you weren’t ready, it’s that you didn’t feel like you looked ready. The thought of subjecting Spencer to the one dark cornerstone of your being in the early days of being together seemed illogical and burdensome, and so it was more simple to play it off as wanting to take a slow pace.

But, as biology would see it you have needs and your boyfriend just happens to be so detrimentally attractive that the simplest act has been sending you into a hot fit as of late. The culprit this time was an innocent mirror picture of him at the store trying on new trousers. You had no chance.

You had found that your intimacy issues lie within extending it to others, and less with yourself. The solution of you finding release on your own quickly became a habit when you realized there was no fear on your own. There’s no one to let down if you’re alone.

Spencer perches at the foot of the bed, flat hand outstretched on the blanket towards you but keeping a comfortable distance, “You don’t have to explain anything, honey.”

“No I know, but—fuck—I should.” you bury your face, choosing to only speak to him from behind your hands for now, maybe forever.

He takes a moment to take inventory of your physical being—you don’t look in pain. Clearly you didn’t sound in pain. Your face is flushed, and though he’s sitting a little far from you, the heat radiating from your body hits him like a space heater.

“Sweetheart…I’m not upset.” he repeats, in hopes a reminder might provide reassurance.

It doesn’t. “You’re never upset at me, it’s concerning.” you mumble.

“You make it kind of hard to be upset at you, ever really.” Spencer braves and lays a hand on your leg.

You take a deep breath, the cold of his hand grounding you more and more. Spencer senses the calm it’s bringing you and rubs circles into your calf.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” he asks gently.

What are you even feeling? You ponder for a moment—anxious, nervous, bad.

“Embarrassed.”

“Honey, there’s nothing embarrassing about masturbating. In fact, it’s more than healthy to do it to keep cortisol levels low,” he explains, “I just don’t know why you didn’t…want to tell me.”

The guilt swirls in your gut, hearing the twinge of hurt buried beneath the comfort he’s laid out for you. He just wants to help you, but you won’t let him in and that hurts him more.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“It’s just…I…Look it’s…You’re just so hot—“ you slip out, clamping your hand over your mouth before leaking any more intrusive thoughts.

A faint smirk ghosts his face, “I’m…hot?”

“No—Well, yes. I just…ugh.”

“Okay, okay calm down,” he scoots closer and gently brings the hands covering your eyes to rest in your lap, “You don’t need to be all secretive, you know I’d never judge you.”

“I know,”

“I just thought you wanted to wait.”

“I do.”

“But, not with me? It’s okay if it's not with me.”

“Spence, I do. It’s not that.”

“Am I missing something?”

You gulp, “I just…it’s a personal problem. With me. Not you.”

His brows furrow, “Like what, baby? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Yeah, if a doctor can fix my shoddy self esteem and make me like myself again.” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh.

The pause he takes seems to be ages long before he speaks again, “Angel, how long have you been feeling like that?”

You’ve been caught red-handed, water filling up the tank faster than you can tread, “It’s nothing, I was just joking.”

“Hey,” he says with a rare firmness, “How. Long?”

You deflate under his hard gaze, “A…while…long enough… for it to feel like a…like a default setting, I guess.” you trail off.

Spencer couldn’t hide the hurt on his face if he tried. Not hurt from your lack of admission, hurt that you had felt like this for so long, dealt with this for so long on your own, and he didn’t even know.

All he ever hoped and wanted was for you to be happy, and if he could be the source of that he would ask for nothing more in life. So to hear about you struggling with this, that you felt like you had to keep it to yourself, was heartbreaking.

Spencer remains in his head a little too long as he’s broken out of it by your small voice, “Are you sure you’re not mad?”

He sighs and moves to sit next to you, making sure he stays above the blanket for your comfort. His back is against the headboard of the bed, and he raises his arm a little, gesturing for you to fill the you shaped crevice. You hesitantly move into the space, hating how you feel every move you’re making is calculated, but all of that goes away the second your head meets his chest and his hand comes up to comb through your hair, the other smoothing your arm down, and all you’re left with is him.

“I promise I’m not mad,” he whispers softly, “Just wish you told me. I would have helped you.” He’s intentional in his wording—would, and not could. Could implies he has a choice, a want to do or not do something. I could have helped you, or I could have not helped you. Would is finite, he is doing it because it is programmed in him that caring for you is a need. I would have helped you because it is the only thing I know to be certifiably true, that you deserve to be cared for.

“It sounds stupid out loud but I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same if you saw me like…that. It seemed logical for me to remove that option altogether.”

His heart aches painfully, and he wishes he could take everyone who’s made you feel that way to target practice. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world. I would spend every day of my life proving that to you.” he utters with unequivocal resolve.

You sigh out shakily, “You’re too kind to me.”

“I’m always kind to you. You deserve kindness. You deserve a lot of things actually…” he trails off.

“Like what?” you ask.

“Well, did you um—” he trails. You look at him quizzically, he continues, “Like before I came in did you…finish?”

Oh. “Oh. I…I don’t think I did, actually. It’s okay though, no big deal.”

He stares at you intently, “Do you want to?”

Your eyes widen, “Spence oh, no it’s okay really you don’t have to do that.

“You’re encouraged to say no if you feel even an ounce of doubt, but I’m offering because I love you and I want to show you that you can feel safe with me, even when you feel otherwise.”

The familiar sting returns to your eyes as the tears pool up. You’re not used to anyone putting this much effort and concern for your comfort, it’s a novel feeling but if Spencer is willing to handle you with as much care as he is, you’re ready to welcome that sentiment in with open arms.

“Yeah, yes.” you waver.

He grins and leans down, gingerly pressing his lips to yours. His hand ghosts from your calf to your knee, testing the water before moving more intent. An unwelcome yet familiar onset slowly rises, trying to break through to you, “Wait—“

He retracts his hand immediately, “You okay? We can stop if you need to.”

You shake your head. “No, no I’m fine. I just need a second.” you breath out, trying to self regulate.

He pulls back his hand but you stop him, “No keep it there, it helps. I just…” You don’t know how to phrase it. You think it’s because you’re not in control. When you’re alone it’s only you at the helm calling the shots. But when it really comes down to it, the lack of control is nothing compared to the lack of predictability that comes with the former. Explaining that out loud was daunting to even think about.

Yet Spencer understands what you need, because he always knows what you need. His hand returns to your knee, giving it a soft squeeze, “You tell me to stop whenever you need to.”

He continues kissing you while smoothing his hand up your leg, making wide and sweeping motions across the plush of your thigh so you can feel where he is and where his hand is going. The gesture is comforting and makes you feel grounded, but your head is in a dreamy haze at how good Spencer’s hands feel on you.

The haze leaves through your lips as Spencer feels you sigh against him, feeling you relax more and more as the seconds go by. His hand reaches your upper thigh, fingers ghosting on the inside. “Is this okay?”

You nod, feeling your nerves idling like a distant wave in the ocean. But Spencer’s presence is a lighthouse shining through the fog and guiding you to his shores while the calm washes over you.

His fingers lightly trace the fabric of your panties, ones that you had slid back up your hips upon his entrance into the room. The motion causes you to jump and he pulls back to gauge your reaction. When he sees no fear in your eyes, more so stunned by your wide eyed gaze, his fingers move with more precision, adding more pressure to your clothed core.

A gentle gasp leaves you as he strokes up and down your slit. You’ve given up on continuing to kiss him, the feeling of his hands being too overwhelming to have both sensations at the same time. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your body involuntarily curving towards him as he draws symbols on you with his index. Your breathing gets heavier and faster the longer he goes, and soon small moans begin to escape you.

He drags his finger to the top of your panties and toys with the band, faintly asking, “You still with me, sweet girl?” You preen into the crevice of his neck as he keeps talking, “Want me to keep going?”

He feels you nodding into him as you breathlessly whisper, “Please.”

His finger dips below the fabric and travels down to your entrance, gathering the slickness and spreading it all over you. “Fuck,” he curses softly, “Look how wet you are, baby.”

You whimper at his words and Spencer ascends to the heavens if there even is one, and if there is it’s the one where you sound like that for him. He circles back up to your clit, paying special attention to the bundle of nerves before sliding back your slit and repeating the whole sequence a few more times.

Your moans are coming out at a steady pace, and he’s been prodding around your entrance for some time now, teasing and edging you closer. “Gonna put a finger in now, okay? Doing so good for me, baby.” he murmurs.

The feeling of his finger entering you is satiating. But it’s not enough, and you need more. “Spence,” you manage to get out, “Can take another one, please.” His eyes shut tight as he revels in your desperation for him, and how cynical he must be to love having you at his mercy this much. He would confess the darkest of sins if you asked him in that tone, and he has no choice but to oblige. He stifles a groan at how easily the second finger slid in, his other hand moving up to play with your hair and cradle your head close to his chest as he works his ministrations.

The familar coil builds in your gut, but at an intensity you’ve never felt before. His fingers move in and out of you urgently, his thumb returning to your clit. He’s a man determined to get you there, and your moans and cries of his name only spur him on further. After a few minutes your moans and cries turn into whines and babbles, and he knows you’re close.

His head leans down to croon in your ear, “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, sweet girl. You can come, ‘m right here.”

It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come harder than you ever have on your own, the waves of your climax overtaking you completely. Spencer continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm, talking you the whole way down. Mutters of praises and kisses flow through your subconscious as the euphoria high takes its peak and you come back down to this realm.

His hand smoothes your hair back as you continue to pant against his chest, words unable to find you.

“You okay?”

You finally catch your breath, “That was—fuck—the most insane orgasm I have ever had.”

Spencer beams at this. For one, his obvious and impressive skills that have stunned you into oblivion. And two, because you look so relaxed. The stark difference of your anxiety filled face from when he first came into the room to the blissed out daze you have right now makes his heart swell five sizes up.

He hugs you closer and whispers, “I’m so proud of you, angel. Thank you for trusting me.”

Sleep is fighting you hard as you laugh airily and tuck yourself under his arm again, “I don’t know why I thought that would be scarier.”

He sighs, his smile faltering but still fond, “Past experiences and self perception complicate the anxiety around sex and intimacy. It’s a natural response based on your lived experiences.”

“Oh.” you mutter, slight deject in your tone.

“But we can work on it, if you want.” he adds, “It’s all up to you with what you’re comfortable with and how you want to do it. If you’ll allow me, I’d love to help you in any way I can, angel.”

You really don’t know how you got so lucky. Someone so kind, and patient, and willing to be with you as you navigate these things you normally would have kept to yourself. You feel grateful to be able to bare a piece of yourself to him, and know that he would receive it with open arms, wrapping it up and handling it with as much care as he can bear.

You cuddle closer, and mumble before your eyes succumb to sleep, “Love you. So much.”

Spencer looks down maybe two seconds later and you’re already out like a light. He chuckles softly to himself and whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl. Good night.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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gyaruhana · 3 days ago

Note

hi, may I request a fluff with player 246 where they met at the park he’s working at? Maybe the reader finds his daughter crying and tries to comfort her—and that’s how they meet? I’m so desperate for a fic about him😭 —thank you

Player 246 - love at first sight

Synopsis: you find a young girl crying and make an attempt to comfort her. Soon after, you meet the father

A/N: I luv luv luv this idea !! Also love him he was such a sweetheart in squid game and he deserved better😪💔

Warnings: none

Work was boring and tiring per usual. The day was hot and you couldn't help think how grateful you were to not be one of the people who had to march around in full body costumes handing out lollipops. You could guess they were sweating up a storm underneath with the current level of heat produced by the glaring sun.

However, cleaning up the rubbish scattered everywhere by not-so-polite park goers was a real pain in the ass too. This was really the last place you'd want to be on a Saturday afternoon but it paid the bills so you refrained from complaining too much.

You were currently walking around the park on the look out for any trash that wasn't in one of the many bins in the park when something else had caught your attention. From a distance, you could hear the sound of a child crying and, while you were used to those sorts of sounds, you were still tempted to check who it was just in case a child had gotten separate from their family. Accidents like that happen all the time, after all.

You headed towards the sound and managed to find a young girl with a strawberry hat who was crying her heart out in a small secluded alleyway. You didn't see any parents so you were immediately concerned for the girl, worried that she had gotten lost and was now scared.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you need help finding your parents?" You ask with a soft tone as you walk up to her and kneel down in front of her. She looked at you and nodded her head as tears continued to pour from her eyes. She was clearly in distress and it made your heart ache to see a young girl cry like this.

"Okay, we'll go find them, yeah? It's okay. I'm sure they're waiting for you," you say as you reach your arms out, inviting her to be carried by you. You had dealt with many cases where children had gotten lost so you already knew how to deal with situations like this. The main priority was always to keep the child calm and reassure them they'd find their parents because 9/10 times, they are reunited with their parents.

The young girl nodded her head before allowing you to pick her up in your arms. You stood up as you kept a gentle hold on her before turning around and walking out of the small alley, your eyes peeled for any distressed parent searching around. As if on cue, a voice suddenly rung out as if calling out for someone. You could easily guess that the voice belonged to whoever the parent of this young girl was.

You looked around before your eyes landed on a guy looking around in a nervous panic. His face was filled with worry and you didn't think twice before walking straight to him. As if sensing his daughter nearby, his head turned to you and the look on his face immediately turn to relief mixed in with a little bit of concern. He walked over to you with a quick pace, eager to have his daughter in his arms again.

"na-yeon, are you okay?" He asks as he takes his daughter from your arms gently. He seemed evidently stressed out that his daughter may have gotten hurt or that something else may have happened to her. "She's okay. She's just a little scared after getting lost," you say with a reassuring smile. He glances at you before giving a small smile back, grateful that you had gotten his daughter back to him.

"Thank you a lot," he says with genuine appreciation for you. "It's no problem. Parents lose their kids all the time here. You aren't the first and you won't be the last," you respond. He laughs a little when you say that and looks away nervously. Before, he hadn't been paying much attention to you because he was hyper-focused on making sure his daughter was okay. Now though.. he was starting to realize how pretty you were.

"But still, be more careful next time. I can't always be a knight in shining armor," you say somewhat seriously but still making a joke so as to keep the mood light. He nodded his head in response and finally looked back at you.

"Don't worry, I won't. Thank you again," he said as he gave you a small bow before turning around and walking away. He wished he hadn't walked away so easily but, embarrassingly enough, he was pretty sure he was blushing now and he didn't want you to see that. He couldn't crush on someone he just met. Even so, he could still feel his heart beating just a little faster than usual and it definitely wasn't from fear this time.

You watched him walk off and let out a sigh before shaking your head in disappointment. He wasn't the only who wanted to keep talking. You did too because there was definitely something so endearing about him and the care he holds for his daughter. That look of pure worry on his face even after he found his daughter..

"God, I hope I see him again,"

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #player 246 #gyeong seok

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viollents · 2 days ago

Text

TOO MUCH.

content.

angst, misscommunication, arguments, reader is insecure and mentally ill, vulnerability, fear of abandonment, relationship tension, trauma, anxiety, happy ending :) lowk based on my last relationship lol | wc. 1k

n/a. haihiish first time writing angst, constructive criticism and advice is very much encouraged, also not sure if everything’s written correctly but yeah, enjoy!

sometimes, you wondered if it was too much—your need for reassurance, the way you clung to every small gesture or word like it might be the last. you overanalyzed everything, replaying moments in your head, dissecting every interaction until doubt crept in like a tide you couldn’t stop. what if you were overwhelming? what if you were uncomfortable to be around? what if she was just too kind to say it?

these thoughts weren’t new. they came in waves, rising and falling like a cruel cycle. most times, you could shove them down, let them fade into the background. but this time? this time, they rooted themselves deep, spreading like a sickness until you could barely function.

you stopped communicating with vi. stopped kissing her, barely touching her. every vulnerable moment became something to avoid at all costs. you thought: i’m too much for her. she deserved more—someone stronger, someone prettier, someone less broken. not you.

and the silence between you grew, like a chasm too wide to cross.

a month passed like this, your heart breaking a little more each day, but vi didn’t say a word. not about your distance, not about your growing absence. and that silence—it fed your fears like gasoline to a fire. if she cared, wouldn’t she have asked? wouldn’t she have noticed? wouldn’t she have fought for you?

that day, you sat curled on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through tiktok. every swipe brought another impossibly perfect face, another reminder of how inadequate you were. if you looked like them, maybe she’d notice. maybe she’d care. maybe she’d love you the way you wanted her to.

a notification broke your thoughts.

“need to talk to you.”

—vi<3— sat above the message, your stomach twisted. this was it, wasn’t it? she’d had enough.

half an hour later, you heard the door. you stood quickly, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans, trying to steel yourself for what was coming.

“hey,” you greeted shakily, barely looking up. “how was work?”

“it was fine.” her tone was clipped, her eyes not meeting yours. the air felt heavy, suffocating. “can we… can we talk?”

there it was.

“y-yeah,” you stammered, already bracing yourself.

“what’s going on with us?” she asked, her voice low but firm.

“what do you mean?” you hedged, looking anywhere but at her.

“don’t do that.” she sighed, running a hand through her short pink hair. “you know exactly what i mean. you’ve been pulling away from me, shutting me out, and i don’t know why. just tell me. i can’t keep guessing.”

her words felt like a punch to the chest. you didn’t want this conversation—you didn’t want to hurt her more than you already had. but the dam broke.

“i’m not worth it, vi” you admitted, your voice cracking. “we both know it. i’m—there’s something wrong with me. i’m broken. and you…” you swallowed hard, tears burning at the edges of your eyes. “you deserve better. you deserve someone whole. someone who isn’t dragging you down.”

she stepped closer, her brows knitting together, her expression unreadable.

“do you even hear yourself?” she asked, her voice quiet but sharp. “is that really what you think?”

“i know it.” you sniffled, finally looking up at her through your tears. “i’m trying to do the right thing here, vi. i’m trying to give you an out.”

“i don’t want an out,” she snapped, and her voice cracked in a way that made your heart ache. “you think i don’t know you have your struggles? you think i don’t know you’re scared? i don’t care about any of that. i’m not here because it’s easy, or because you’re perfect. i’m here because i love you. because you’re you.”

her words hit you like a tidal wave. but then, something shifted in your chest—an ache, a flicker of anger you didn’t know was there.

“then why didn’t you say anything before?” you asked, your voice sharp. “why did you just… let it get this far?”

vi blinked, surprised by your tone. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, i’ve been distant for weeks, vi,” you said, voice rising. “i’ve been falling apart right in front of you, and you didn’t say a damn thing. why?”

her jaw tightened. “i was giving you space. i thought—”

“space?” you let out a bitter laugh, tears spilling down your cheeks. “you thought i needed space? how could you not see that i needed you?”

“i’m not a mind reader,” she snapped, her voice rising to match yours. “do you know how hard it’s been to watch you pull away? to wonder every day if i was losing you?”

“then why didn’t you ask?” you shot back.

“because i was scared, okay?” she yelled, her voice breaking. “i was scared that if i pushed too hard, you’d leave. that i’d lose you for good.”

her admission stunned you into silence. for a moment, all you could do was stare at her, both of you breathing hard, tears streaming down your faces.

“i don’t want to lose you” she repeated softly, her voice trembling.

your anger melted away, replaced by a deep, aching guilt. “vi… i don’t want to lose you either” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“then stop pushing me away,” she pleaded, stepping closer. her hands found your cheeks, her touch grounding. “stop trying to decide what i can handle. you’re not too much for me. i love you, and i’m here. but you have to let me in.”

“what if i ruin this?” you asked, your voice breaking. “what if i ruin you?”

“you won’t” she said simply, her voice resolute. “and even if you stumble, even if it gets messy—i’ll be here. every step of the way.”

her words broke something inside you, and you let out a sob, collapsing into her arms. “i’m sorry” you choked out. “i’m so sorry, vi.”

she held you tightly, her arms strong and steady. “i know” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’m here. i’ve got you.”

and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe.

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irisintheafterglow · 2 days ago

Text

touya todoroki completes community service hours at an aquarium.

your supervisors, understandably, were adamantly against having the convicted criminal anywhere near the facility, its staff, and its animals. however, after being reassured time and time again that he wouldn't be working in public areas, you were assigned to be his unofficial parole officer (or off-fish-er you called it) because of your hydrokinetic quirk. not only were you responsible for watching a criminal, you were also the first line of defense in case he decided to make the facility into a seafood boil.

you'd better be getting a stellar letter of recommendation after all this.

as luck would have it, word spread quickly among aquarium staff about the new volunteer and his...messy...history. you received many texts wishing you good luck and stating that you're in many people's prayers as if working with him would be a death sentence. but, to your surprise, your first day with touya is actually...not terrible.

"you're doing a nice job. you can cut them into larger chunks if you want," you recommend kindly as he slices pieces of shrimp and fish for the penguins and drops them into the gray bucket.

"don't want them to choke," he mumbles almost imperceptibly. from what you've heard about him, touya was physically incapable of shutting up and always had some snarky insult to mutter under his breath. the man you were working with, however, kept his thoughts to himself and only engaged you with curt acknowledgments of tasks. "these got bones in 'em still?"

"digestible ones, yeah," you confirm, a little confused about why he's so curious. he struck you as the type of guy to just work and finish his assignments with as little energy exertion as possible. but here he was, concerned for the animals' safety even when he hadn't even seen them yet. "we just need to cut them up because some of them try to swallow the big ones whole, and we don't need them blocking their throats."

"how many are there?"

"the penguins?" he hums in assent, never taking his eyes off the precise cuts on the food. "i think our colony is a few dozen, maybe twenty-two?"

"do they get along well?"

"some of them are a little feistier than others," you admit with a fond smile. "but the majority of them are really sweet. you'll see when you meet them."

"meet them?"

"you're not walking out with me, of course," you quickly correct. "my shift lead's gonna have my head on a stake if you so much as show a finger to the public." he nods, an odd sort of quiet falling between you two that was more awkward than the previous silence. if you knew any better, you would interpret his expression for disappointment. "there's one recovering from an illness backstage named peach. she gets fed on her own, but if there's some left over i can take you over there to feed her."

"it's fine. don't wanna bother your routine," he mutters with a shrug, but you catch the renewed glint in his eyes at the prospect of meeting one of the animals personally. after feeding the main colony and not-so-accidentally leaving a few treats at the bottom of the bucket, touya follows you through the back halls of the vet center to peach's holding area.

"be warned, she's one of the feisty ones," you caution him, carefully stepping into the plexiglass-enclosed space. he copies your motions exactly and you're surprised, again, from the great care he seems to take when interacting with the small penguin. "so, all you need to do is hand out the fish to her and let her take it in her beak."

"does she dislike new people?" he asks as peach aggressively inspects his shins, prodding them with her beak when touya tries to step away. "i don't think she likes me."

"it's the opposite, believe it or not; you're making her angry when you try to give her space like that," you reply with a stifled laugh.

"oh. i see." peach continues to slap touya with her fins and poke him until he gives her what she wants, a large chunk of fish straight from his hand. you kneel down next to him when he has a seat on the floor, his eyes curiously observing the spunky bird. "she always this sassy with you?"

"only when she gets jealous," you smile, running your hand over the top of her head. her eyes close in contentment before returning to touya's outstretched food offering. "what do you think?"

"about what?"

"do you think this arrangement is gonna be a nightmare for you?" he pauses and, for the millionth time that day, surprises you with how much thought he put into his actions.

"if everyone i meet is as easy as you and her," he says, gesturing to peach but speaking soft enough to make your cheeks heat, "i think i'll get by."

---

"peach duty today?"

"schedule got mixed around, so we'll be giving her dinner instead of lunch today," you reply and touya hums at your side, an answer that could be considered rude if you didn't already know he was a man of few words.

few words, that is, if he was speaking to anyone other than the animals. after a month of touya shadowing you, you could pick up on the little conversations he had with the different animals he took care of: asking the cownose rays to calm down during feeding time, warning the reef sharks that they might need braces if they keep losing so many teeth (he kept forgetting it was normal for them to lose that many teeth), quietly cheering on the day octopus as he breaks into a jar full of crabs.

"who've we got today?"

"took a hell of a lotta convincing, but my boss is letting you meet my best friend today," you inform him. touya walks in step beside you like he'd memorized the fishy-smelling back halls of the aquarium, barely sparing passing wary staff so much as a glance. you'd be intimidated, too, if he wasn't your partner; he was formidable in his favorite blue windbreaker with his hands stuffed casually in its pockets that subtly accented the lean muscle in his arms. not that you were paying much attention to his body, anyway.

"and who would that be?"

"her name is donna, but i call her mama donna." he follows you down a corridor he'd never taken before, toward the very back of the medical wing. "take that hall on the right and change into a wetsuit; i'll meet you back over here, okay?"

"why do i need to change?"

"well, because you're getting in the water with me."

shit.

it's the first time touya hesitates in a long time when you beckon him to join you in the shallow pool. you'd already summoned donna, who was much larger of an animal than he expected. you said she was an adult zebra shark, but all he could register is the tiny tank of brown sacks the size of his hand just outside the walls of the pool.

"i don't think it's the best--"

"get in the water, touya, or i'm gonna report you for insubordination," you interrupt, waist-deep in the water. you don't mean it, of course, but you did need a hand with donna if you were going to check on the status of her eggs.

"i shouldn't be in the water with her, 'specially if she's a mother."

"what, you got something against moms?" he flinches and you suddenly regret speaking so brashly, something about his reaction indicating that you'd hit a nerve. "sorry, that was insensitive--"

"i don't wanna hurt her if i..." his voice trails off and he looks down at his scarred hands, the tissue dark enough to almost match the color of his wetsuit. "it's better for everyone if i don't get close to her if she's vulnerable." you wait for him to look you dead in the eyes before answering.

"i wouldn't bring you to meet her if i didn't think you were ready, touya," you begin gently. "i don't think of you the same way as the rest of the staff because you've proven that you're different from the gossip."

"but what if i--"

"did you forget why i'm paired with you in the first place?" donna swims around you impatiently, nudging you with her nose while you continue to convince touya to get in the water. "i'm the only one on staff that can neutralize you, but i know i won't need to."

"how are you so sure?"

"because i hear you talk to them," you state simply, rubbing your hand on donna's nose as her tail splashes your upper body. "your little conversations tell me you care, even if i'm not allowed to be a part of them." you shoot him a wry smile and he finally scoffs, partly a chuckle and partly an exhale; he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. "i'll drown you if you heat this water by even half a degree, so help me with donna and then we can go visit peach, yeah?"

---

you'd fallen into an unexpectedly fond partnership over the course of your six months of touya-duty. he was a pretty damn good listener, letting you boss him this way and that and only retaliating with a lighthearted eyeroll. on certain occasions, he would open up about his history, and you followed along intently. he insisted on doing the heavy lifting and opening every door for you, even if you weren't carrying anything. he remembered every animal by name and could tell apart the most similar looking creatures, pointing out their differences with an expression that screamed 'is it not obvious?' towards the end of his assignment, you both faced an unexpected surprise.

his family came to visit.

well, not all of his family, only the ones touya maintained somewhat of a relationship with. in the times he'd opened up, he briefly mentioned his now-graduated little brother, shoto, and the work he'd done to mend the tears between him, his mother, and his other siblings. you consider it a blessing that only his mother and siblings appear when you round the corner to the 'vip only' waiting area (from your talks, you'd also learned it'd be on sight if touya's retired father stepped on the property). he freezes when he sees his family as the guests who would be shadowing him, becoming uncharacteristically stiff as petrified wood.

"welcome, todoroki family. i'm so glad you could join us today," you greet with a polite smile. only when your hand gently settles on touya's shoulder, the reminder of your presence melting the chill in his veins, does the tension in his body dissipate. "touya? d'you wanna introduce me to your family?" he glances at you, your unwavering trust in him, and his eyes soften as he nods.

"yeah," he affirms quietly. "yeah, i can do that."

"doing great, partner," you whisper once you're acquainted with the family and on the move, heading toward the back halls of the tropical gallery. "i'll only talk if you need me to, today, because i want this to be about you and them."

"but you're not gonna leave me, right?"

"wouldn't dream of it," you reassure him, something in your heart stumbling when he gives you an easy smile. as the day goes on and touya guides his family through the back corridors of the facility, he's able to ramble about all the knowledge he'd acquired while working with you. at each exhibit, he points out every species with total accuracy and shares his favorite quirks about certain animals. you have a front-row seat for the way his eyes, usually so molten and intense, have a star-like quality to them when he talks about his new friends, the abalone and the otters and the sea bass. his family observes him in awe, and you catch his mother watching you watch him several times. touya ends the day by introducing peach, his self-proclaimed 'number one girl,' and helping his family with her nightly feeding. though all the todoroki siblings struck you as reserved when you first met them, their conversations were full of life as they walked ahead and you trailed behind with his mother.

"this suits him," rei states with a thoughtful smile.

"i'm biased, but i agree," you reply. she fixes you again with that curious stare, analyzing you. "do i have fish scales on my face?" she laughs and shakes her head.

"no, i'm just indebted to you for getting through to him." you blink, taken aback by her genuine response. "being with you makes him happy. i haven't seen him like this in a long while." she turns back to her children, walking in one raucous group and making plans to get dinner after his shift. "he doesn't talk with them like this often."

"i imagine it's all a mother would want after everything they've been through, if i may," you add and she hums in agreement.

"it is. it's also why, i hope you wouldn't mind," she trails off and her eyebrows pinch slightly, like she's thinking of something worrisome. "if he could stay here."

"of course. i've noticed that he has a knack for husbandry, so--"

"he wants to stay with you," she cuts in, her voice soft as powdered snow. "and i'd like him to stay with you, if it means we can see him more like--"

"this," you finish for her, gesturing to the pile of adult men wrestling each other just ahead, their sister shaking her head from afar. rei sighs, her smile turning sad.

"exactly." before you can give her your reply, touya has escaped his brothers and approached to steal you from his mother.

"if you take those double doors and turn left, you'll end up in the gift shop. wait there and we can get dinner once i'm off," he tells rei, taking her hand and squeezing it once. "i won't be long." she nods and joins her other children, leaving you alone with touya in front of the staff-only window of the sea lion pool. the fading afternoon light catches in the water's rippling and sends a soft beam of light across the cavern. the largest of the lions, boris, floats from below to observe you and touya standing in front of his tank.

"he moves like a slinky," touya states and you can't help but laugh.

"he does move like a slinky, you're right." you turn to him and find he's already looking back at you, not boris. "i loved meeting your family today," you offer in the silence that makes the heartbeat in your ears sound so much louder. "they're very sweet, especially your mother."

"what were you two talking about while we were away?"

"she wanted to show me baby photos," you tease and he gives his signature eyeroll. "but really," you inhale and steady yourself, "she was saying how much this suits you."

"i'd have to agree," he murmurs, his eyes glowing like dying embers. you're close enough to smell him, smoky and rich and only the slightest bit like fish. the proximity feels comforting, like home. "if...if you'd let me--"

"stay with me," you blurt. he blinks at you, the rosy color on the tips of his ears standing out against the bright white. "i-i want you to stay with me." you wait and the quiet stews, nothing moving except slinky-like boris in the water beside you. touya's reply is barely above a whisper.

"i want to stay with you." you release a shaky exhale and let your head fall forward against his chest, steadied by his arms securing themselves around your waist. your hands slide over his shoulders and rest at the nape of his neck, fiddling with the tuft of hair at its base. "please let me stay with you," he breathes in your ear. his arms flex as his grip tightens, like you'd turn to water if he held you too loosely. touya feels like his heart is rattling in his ribcage, bouncing around uncontrollably the longer he has you in his arms. he hasn't felt his chest ache like this before.

"yes, i want you to stay with me," you confirm and he melts into you, breathing you in like fresh oxygen.

"for how long?"

"as long as you'd let me," you answer honestly. the corner of his mouth turns upward in a teasing smirk.

"and if i said forever?"

"then i guess i'd have to oblige," you beam. your hands cup his face, tracing the seam of his scars, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours. it's careful, the first time he kisses you, and he's terrified you'd slip from his fingers. but you don't disappear, so he lets himself lace your fingers with his and drag you out to the rest of his loved ones, hand-in-hand and finally feeling like he can do something good.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#FAWKKKKKK i miss him so badly it's not even funny anymore #as our birthday draws closer i am once again reminded that....he is not real.....#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya x reader #touya x you #touya x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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sky-is-the-limit · 2 days ago

Text

I don’t think people fully understand the sheer gravity of Destiel.

Like, this isn’t just a story about an angel falling in love with a human or another fanon ship that was created just because two dudes were standing too close.

This is an angel, a being forged by God, programmed to follow orders, incapable of free will, the literal embodiment of divine obedience!!! choosing to rebel. For one man. For Dean Winchester.

Think about it. Castiel wasn’t made to feel. He wasn’t made to question. He was made to serve, to follow heaven’s will without hesitation and then he meets Dean. He saves him from hell and in that moment, that exact fucking moment, his entire purpose shifts. Dean didn’t just change his mind cause we are not talking about another mortal being. He changed his entire fucking existence.

And here’s the kicker of it all. God, the all-knowing, all-powerful storyteller, couldn’t stop it. God, who controlled the narrative, who created Castiel and set the rules of the universe, couldn’t stop him from falling. Cas didn’t just disobey orders!!!!!!! He shattered the divine design. He looked at Heaven, at the eternity he was promised and said, "No. I choose him." Insane.

Do you understand how fucking huge that is? This isn’t a simple love story. This is cosmic rebellion and the writers couldn’t even grasp the insanity of what they created for a CW show.

It’s tragic and overwhelming because Cas didn’t fall in love with Dean for any selfish reasons. He didn’t want anything back. He didn’t expect Dean to love him, didn’t need his affection or validation. He never got to touch him or kiss him or get the "I love you too" that all of us wanted to hear. He just wanted to be near him. To help him. To save him, over and over, to make sure that Dean knew that he had someone who was looking after him.

And the cost? It was everything and people just brush over that.

Cas gave up Heaven. He gave up grace. He gave up the safety of eternity and purpose to stay in Dean’s proximity. Not because he was destined to, not because God told him to but because he *chose* to. That’s what makes it so tragic. It wasn’t written. It wasn’t meant to happen. Castiel broke the rules of his existence for someone who didn’t even realise the depth of it until it was too late.

Then THAT moment. When Cas says, "You changed me, Dean." It just hits different, doesn’t it??? Cause it’s not just a love confession. it’s a revelation. He confirms it right there that it was Dean's humanity that did it. Not some grand cosmic force, not some divine intervention. Dean himself, in all his flawed, beautiful, self-sacrificial mess, changed everything.

Dean, who always put others before himself, who had to raise himself, who gave everything to Sam and kept nothing for him. Dean, who was destined to always be second, to always sacrifice his own needs for someone else. Dean, whose car that he loved so much, his only constant, even that belonged to his father. Dean, whose clothes were probably second-hand, whose childhood was spent taking care of his little brother. Dean, whose purpose was always for the world, for the greater good and never for himself.

For the first time, Dean had something that was his. Something that wasn’t meant for anyone but him. Cas was HIS. Not for God, not for his father, not for Sam or the world.

This isn’t just a story about love!!! It’s *the* story about love. It’s messy and painful and romantic in the most devastating way cause Cas didn’t just rebel against heaven, people!!! He rewrote the entire concept of free will, of devotion, of sacrifice!!!!

He loved Dean with everything he was and that love was strong enough to defy God himself.

It’s the greatest, most tragic, most insane fictional story of our lifetime. Nothing will ever come close.

#I could talk about them for hours #I probably do #but i can't get over how they accidentally created the most beautiful love tale.#destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #spn

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wonderjanga · 22 hours ago

Text

Ms. Kent and Billy

it’s 1959 and it’s been a year ever since Billy got his powers. Life is good and he found out about a pie eating contest happening in some little town in Kansas called Smallville. If you were to win, you’d get a whole $100.

Billy: “A hundred whole dollars… I could get food for weeks- no, months with that!”

Martha(Ma Kent): *appeared behind him* “Are you gonna participate in the contest?”

Billy: *startles* “Uh… Yes?”

Martha: “Aren’t you a little skinny for that?”

Billy: “Wha- I’m not skinny! I don’t think I’m too skinny at least.”

Martha: *looks him up and down wondering if he’d let her cook a bunch of food for him* “Sure. Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Are you new to Smallville?”

Billy: “Yes. This is my first time here actually.”

Martha: “Oh? So you’re just here for the pie contest?”

Billy: “Yup. I’m gonna eat as much pie as I can, and then I’m gonna get the money.”

Martha: “Will you tell me if they’re good?”

Billy: “Sure? Why?”

Martha: “Cause me and my mom made all the pies for the competition!”

Billy: “Oh, that’s amazing!” *looks starstruck*

Martha: *sounds proud* “I know.”

Billy didn’t end up winning the competition. He actually ended up vomiting after his first pie because his little malnourished self couldn’t handle all of that. Martha was there though to clean him up with a rag. They got to know each other better after that and soon enough, Billy would transform into Marvel, fly over to Smallville, and hang out with her. Martha even got to know Freddy because he would sometimes fly over with Billy too. Then the time bubble happened and fast forward 50 years. Billy, after panicking about his entire life and everything he knows it being over, went to go see Martha, who was conveniently still near Smallville.

Billy: *knocks on the door*

Martha: “Coming!” *opens the door and looks around seeing no one*

Billy: “Down here.”

Martha: *looks down to Billy and pauses to stare*

Billy: “Heeeeeeeey Martha.” *awkward wave*

Martha continued to stare at him for a solid minute before she rubbed her eyes, and then rubbed them again for good measure.

Martha: “Billy…?”

Billy: “Martha…?”

Martha: “Oh- my… Oh my Gosh!” *kneels down so she can look him over even going as far as to pinch his little cheeks to make sure he’s real*

Billy: “Ow! Martha, stop!” *bats away her hands*

Martha: *keeps trying to pinch him aways* “Are you real?”

Billy: “Yes?”

Martha: *has seen too much nonsense due to Clark* “Well, if you’re the real Billy uhm… Where did we first meet?”

Billy: “A pie eating contest here?”

Martha: “Hmm… That might be too easy… What pies did I make for the contest?”

Billy: “Wha- I don’t know!? How am I supposed to remember that??”

Martha: “Okay… Too hard. How about you tell me something only you would’ve known about a fourteen year old me.”

Billy: “Like what?”

Martha: “Like something secret I told you.”

Billy: “Uhm… You had a crush on Elvis and said you wanted your future husband to be just like him?”

Martha: *stares before feeling herself cringe at her teenage self* “Okay, I’ll assume you’re the real Billy. Come in, bud.”

They caught up after that. They even decided to make pies together again. It was fun. You would just see them in the kitchen together talking about whatever, normally old lady stuff, and baking. Then, when Grandpa Kent came home…

Jonathan(Pa Kent): “Martha, I’m home!” *walks to the kitchen and pauses when he sees Billy and Martha*

Martha and Billy: *stare back at him*

Jonathan: “Martha is that an another grandbaby, clone, or cousin of Clark’s?”

Martha: “None of those. This is Billy. He’s a friend of mine.”

Jonathan: “Martha, you’re just befriending eight-year-olds now? Where are his parents?”

Billy: “They’re dead, mister! But don’t worry, me and Martha met back in ‘59. We go way back.”

Jonathan: *stares for a solid minute* “Wait a darn moment… were you caught up in all that Fawcett business?” *heard about it on the news*

Billy: “Yup!”

Martha: “What Fawcett business?”

That’s how Billy was led to explain the entirety of the time bubble and suspendium and all that. The Kents thankfully welcomed him with open arms. After this entire incident, Billy showing up to the farm was a regular occurrence. He could bake with Martha and help Mr. Jonathan out as much as he could on the farm. Then, one of the Kents other grandchildren showed up. (Billy was basically their grandbaby too, not that the Batson knew)

Jonathan: *trying to fix their tractor because it broke down for whatever reason*

Billy: *standing to the side, holding a toolbox and giving him tools whenever he asks*

Jon: *flies over from Metropolis* “Grandpa! Grandpa-” *does a double take when he sees Billy* “Wait, who’re you?”

Billy: “I’m Billy!”

Jonathan: “You heard him Jon. He’s Billy.”

Jon: *suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he’s flying in front of this kid and kinda just revealed his identity* “I’m uh… Jon.” *slowly floats down to land on the ground*

Billy and Jon: *stare at each other*

Jonathan: “Billy, can you pass me the diamond tip screwdriver?”

Billy: “Sure!” *passes it to him*

Yeah… Jon was a little confused as to who this random kid was. He was also a little confused as to why he refers to Jon’s grandpa has Mr. Jonathan but refers to Jon’s grandma as Martha. Did he live with grandma and grandpa? Is he another one of his dad’s cousins? Jon doesn’t think the boy’s a kryptonian but he might be wrong. Anyways, he’s making everything weird! Though it’s a sort of good kind of weird? His grandma is acting… younger? They also keep referencing things Jon has no idea about. (Late 50s pop culture) The kid- Billy, seems nice enough though. He has no problems playing with Jon so that’s awesome! Jon is so happy to have a friend away from home, but he’s still confused as to why Billy is at the farm.

Jon: “Dad, why do some people live on farms?”

Supes: “Because they’re farmers…?”

Jon: “No, but like what if they aren’t farmers, and they just help the farmers that are already there? Like one day they just showed up and decided to help around.”

Supes: “Well, I guess the closest thing you’re looking for would be a farmhand. Why are you asking?”

Jon: “Well, there’s this kid that lives with grandma and grandpa now-”

Supes: “WHAT?!”

Yeah, neither Ma Kent or Pa Kent have told Clark about this. It kind of slipped their minds.

Bonus interactions:

Before Pa Kent Came Home…

Billy: “Who’s that?” *looking at a photo of Pa and Ma Kent together*

Martha: “My husband.”

Billy: “Husband…?” *suddenly sad he missed a bunch of stuff from Martha’s life* “Oh…”

Martha: You sound upset. What’s wrong?

Billy: “Nothing.”

Twenty Years Ago When Clark Was Still a Kid…

Supes: Ma, who’s that? *looking at a photo of a nine year old Billy and a fourteen year old Martha*

Martha: “Oh, that’s Billy and I.”

Supes: “Who’s Billy?”

Martha: “An old friend of mine. He uhm… disappeared one day. I don’t know what happened to him.”

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #jon el #jonathan kent #martha kent #ma kent #pa kent #clark kent

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janeyseymour · 23 hours ago

Text

Keep Her Around

Summary: You and Melissa have been married for years, unbeknownst to almost everyone in your life. And when you finally meet the Schemmentis, they only think you're Melissa's girlfriend.

WC: ~3.1k

It’s funny the way that Melissa Schemmenti lives her life. By day, she’s a second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary. By night, she’s out at the bars trying to forget about her problems.

You live life quite similarly. During the day, you’re a first grade teacher at Abbott Elementary. Come night, you’re usually out at a bar trying to decompress after the hectic days that you tend to have with your students.

And then one day, you and your coworker accidentally end up at the same bar.

“What are you doing here?” Melissa asks you as she approaches the stool next to yours.

You sigh and take a sip of your Labatt. “Needed a beer after today. You?”

“God,” the redhead groans when she sees what you’re sipping on. “Why are you drinking that shit when there’s Yuengling on tap?”

“Cheaper,” you sigh.

“By like, ten cents,” your coworker grumbles. “If you’re that broke, let me at least buy you a good beer.”

Melissa buying you one good beer ends up turning into four, and that night ends with the two of you going home together.

Fast forward a few years, and your relationship with the redhead is still relatively hidden. The only person that knows at the school is Barbara. Not even your principal knows because she failed to recognize that when you put in to change your address for your paycheck, it was identical to Melissa’s.

You don’t mind not having the world know about your relationship. Both you and your girlfriend are extremely private people, so it makes sense.

But then you propose, you elope the next weekend with Barbara Howard as your witness, and when you walk into work the following Monday, the rings that sit on your finger just so happen to catch sunlight snd sparkle.

“Woah!” Jacob’s eyes go wide. “Did you- did you get married?!”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Yeah. What’d you do this weekend?”

“No, no, no,” the social studies teacher stammers out. “We are not changing the topic this quick!”

“Jacob,” Barbara groans as she walks into the staff lounge with your wife and Janine. “It is far too early for you to be up in arms about something on a Monday morning. Have mercy on me.”

“Y/N got married!” Jacob gestures to you wildly.

“You did what?” Janine gasps.

“Got married,” you state. “I don’t see why we have to make such a big deal out of-”

Unfortunately for your wife, the same sunbeam that caught your ring catches hers, and Jacob gasps again.

“Melissa! Did you- did you get married too? What the hell is going on here?!” The redhead just nods with a smirk as she holds her left hand up.

“What?” Janine turns to look at her work aunt in shock. “What the hell guys? I didn’t even know either of you were dating, much less engaged to be married!”

“Yeah,” you sigh as you stand to make Melissa her coffee. If the secret is about to come out, you might as well start being the good life partner that you usually are at home. “We didn’t tell no one for a reason. Babe, your usual?”

It takes about a second for your words to sink in for the two nosey teachers that you suppose you call friends. “What?” they both ask incredulously. Then they look to Barbara who just seems amused.

“Aren’t you surprised your best friend hid this from you?”

“I didn’t hide nothin’, lowercase,” your wife snorts.

Barb looks incredibly smug before revealing, “I was their witness.”

“What?” Jacob shouts at the same time that Ava, Gregory, and Mr. Johnson walk into the staff lounge. “Did any of you know that Y/N and Melissa were together, much less that they got married over the weekend?”

“That is news to me,” Gregory states in his usual monotone. Then he lets a smile slip through. “Congratulations.”

“Damn, that means MILF Manor is s possibility for-”

“Enough,” you cut off your boss. “Melissa and I got married, but we’ve been together for years, living together for years. This doesn’t change much in the grand scheme of it all.”

You can tell that Janine is going to argue, but thankfully, the coffee has finished brewing, and you can pour your wife her mug before exiting the room with a roll of your eyes.

Later, Mr. Johnson gives a talking head that he’s been aware of your relationship for quite some time now. He just grins at the cameraman, stating that this isn’t the first time a workplace romance has budded. Then he smirks. “They aren’t the first. No. That was me, all those years ago.”

It’s later that day that you and your wife are laying on the couch watching whatever reality television show Melissa put on. You suppose you should say she’s watching, you’re laying down reading a book. It’s nice that the two of you can sit in a comfortable silence, both doing completely different things while still enjoying each other’s company. The quiet between the two of you is broken when your wife sighs from above you, her hand going to run its way through your hair.

“What is it?” you ask her gently.

The redhead just takes a deep breath again before shrugging. “Nothin’.”

“That’s the loudest nothing I’ve ever heard,” you tease as you sit up and set your book on the coffee table. “What’s on your mind, babe?”

“It’s weird that the crew knows now,” Melissa muses. “But at least now maybe on the rare day that the two of us are actually on the same schedule, we’ll be able to take the same car to work.”

“We always could’ve done that,” you chuckle. “We’re normally the first two in anyway, aside from Mr. Johnson.”

Your wife mulls this thought over in her head before shrugging. “Well, since they know… I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Janine spills the beans to Kristen Marie.”

“That’s what you’re thinking about?” you ask. “If it’s just that, I can pull mini into my room tomorrow and threaten her life… not that I would do anything, but I know a guy.”

“I’m your guy, dumb ass,” Melissa lets out a belly laugh. “And no, I think… maybe it’s time we tell the Schemmenti family?”

Both brows raise an incredible amount. In all of the years that you’ve been together, the redhead has never mentioned introducing you to her family. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” your wife sighs softly. “I think it’s time I stop being afraid of what my family has to say and just… bite the bullet. And then maybe bite the dust depending on what they have to say to me about us.”

“So dramatic,” you roll your eyes playfully. “My god.”

“You love me for my dramatics remember,” Melissa chuckles. “Would you be open to meetin’ my family?”

You roll your eyes. “Babe, I’ve been ready for years. I was just waiting for you to be ready.”

“I-” your wife hesitates. “I am ready. You deserve to be shown off for the wonderful wife that you are to me.”

And so, a few weeks later, you’re walking into your very first Schemmenti family dinner at Theresa’s house.

“Hi Ma,” your wife smiles that dazzling smile of hers. “This is Y/N, my-”

“Your girlfriend,” Theresa states, arms folded over her chest and giving you quite the judgmental look. It’s very clear where Melissa inherited her traits from.

The redhead goes to cut in and correct her mother, but the matriarch of the Schemmenti household continues. “She told us you were pretty.”

“Thank you?” you smile awkwardly.

Theresa shakes her head. “I didn’t tell you what I thought of you- only what Melissa said.”

“Ma!”

“I’m just stating a fact,” the mother rolls her eyes. “And if you would’ve let me continue, I would’ve said she was correct in saying that.”

“Thank you,” you say with certainty now. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I do hope I’ll be able to say the same things about you tonight. Come in. You’re the first ones here, but I’m sure the others will be here soon,” Theresa turns and walks in towards the kitchen. “Can’t resist my cooking, the gavones,” she mumbles to herself.

While the matriarch of the family walks away, Melissa goes to follow. You take her gently by the arm to hold her back though.

“She thinks I’m just your girlfriend,” you mumble into your wife’s ear. “What do we do?”

Melissa shrugs. “Maybe we just let her think that for a bit? Let her ease into it? She seems to like you so far.”

“That was her liking me?” you raise a brow as you slip your rings off and into your pocket.

“She didn’t outright tell you to leave, and she told you you were pretty. By Schemmenti standards, she already adores you,” your wife chuckles as she follows your actions. “And she’ll only continue to love you when you work your charm.”

“I don’t have charm, Lis,” you roll your eyes, but you do pull her in for a quick kiss. “I’m a dork.”

“A dork that I love,” Melissa smiles against your lips. “Just be you. Quick witted and sweet. The best of both worlds. And take her up on her offer for wine, and never say no when she asks if you’d like more- at least until your fourth serving.”

“Fourth serving?” your eyes widen. “Babe, I don’t know if I can-”

“I’ll subtly take some of the food off of your plate, but just… trust me?”

With a sigh, you nod. “I guess you know your family better than I do.”

Meeting the rest of the Schemmenti clan is… interesting. All of her siblings have something to say that your wife promises you are them showing that they like you, even if you don’t think so. They have quite an odd dynamic as a family, you must say. As dinner goes on, you would dare to say that they might just tolerate you, but your wife promises you that they are loving you.

And the kids in the family absolutely adore you. Even the youngest baby who won’t go to anybody but her parents finds herself nestled in your arms at one point during the night while she absentmindedly plays with your hair and necklace.

“I don’t know how you just did that,” Melissa mumbles from next to you. Her hand gently cups the side of your head as she pulls you in to kiss your temple. “I’m usually the baby whisperer in this family, and even I can’t get the little bugger to sit with me.”

You just look down at the little girl in your arms. “She’s just a little shy is all,” you mumble as you press a kiss to the top of her head.

Eventually though, your wife’s brother takes back his baby, and you sigh softly. “I just have to use the bathroom,” you tell the redhead quietly. “I’ll be right back.”

Melissa nods with a smile.

“On my way back, do you want another glass of wine?”

“Please,” your wife smiles. “Thanks, hun.”

With that, you head to the restroom upstairs. As soon as your out of sight, Melissa’s family members are staring at her.

“What? I got somethin’ in my teeth?”

“Yeah,” Kristen Marie lies.

“Kristen Marie,” Theresa stops the quarrel before it can even start. “No.”

“Then what, Ma?”

“That girlfriend of yours…” the matriarch starts, and immediately the redhead is ready to defend your honor. When Theresa follows with, “I like her. A lot more than I ever liked Joe, and you ended up married to that stronzo.”

“She’s even good with Sophia,” Marie puts in her opinion.

“And how long of the two of you been together?” Seamus asks.

“Long enough,” Melissa shrugs.

“You plannin’ on keepin’ her around?” Kristen Marie questions. “You know… for a long time? Maybe forever?”

Green eyes twinkle. “Maybe.”

“I think you should consider it,” Theresa suggests. “She fits right in. Pretty, witty, a teacher… she balances you out nicely with her sweetness.”

“I can be sweet too, Ma,” your wife rolls her eyes.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” the mother huffs. “Just… consider it.”

It’s then that you make your way back into the living room with the promised glass of wine for your wife. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothin’,” Melissa mumbles.

“That was the loudest nothin’ I ever heard,” Kristen Marie laughs. “Just teasin’ ol’ red, as usual.”

“I’m not even two years older than you,” your wife grumbles at her sister.

“Still old.”

“Girls,” Theresa cuts in.

It’s a bit later when the two of you bid farewell to the Schemmenti clan with hugs, and you get a kiss on the cheek from Theresa Schemmenti herself.

As soon as you’re in the privacy of your car, Melissa begins to cackle with laughter. You look to her as though she has three heads.

“What’s so funny, babe?”

“They love you!” the redhead continues to wheeze with laughter.

“And that’s funny because…?”

“Hun, they were basically tellin’ me to marry you while you went to the bathroom,” your wife wipes at the tears forming around her eyes.

“Oh,” you break out into a smile, and then you can’t contain your giggles either. “That- that’s hilarious!”

“I can’t with my family sometimes,” the redhead chuckles out as she begins to pull herself together to drive home.

You lace your fingers with your wife’s. But then you remember that you don’t have your rings on again, so you disentangle your hands, slip them back on, and then return to your position. Melissa does the same. “Should we tell them? Or do we just continue to let them think we’re girlfriends until they figure it out?”

“Who knows?” the redhead laughs. “For as smart as we can be, we can also be absolutely oblivious. Why do you think I didn’t realize you had a thing for me for as long as you did?”

“Well, I’m for whatever you think we should do. But I think it’d be hilarious if it got to a point where we had to have a fake wedding to appease them,” you laugh.

“Now that would be something,” Melissa hums. “We never did have a real wedding.” And then she pulls away and heads for home.

Only once the two of you are back at the house does the cameraman interview the two of you.

“Should I have told my family that me an’ my ‘girlfriend’ have been married for years before I let them meet for the first time, or should I just keep trying to slip it in? Because now they’re trying to hint that I should propose, and I’m wondering if it might just be easier to do a fake wedding,” Melissa tells the man. “My wife’s on board because she’s fantastic.” She finishes her spiel with a kiss to your cheek. You can only grin.

It’s about a month later that you head back over to the Schemmenti household for family dinner again. This time, you wear your rings, but the family doesn’t notice- the both of you wear a few rings as it is, so they blend in. When you go to the bathroom again, your wife’s family only continues to ask why she hasn’t asked you to marry you yet, and when is she going to grow the balls.

“If you don’t, I’ll ask her to marry me,” Seamus laughs.

Green eyes stare into his eyes. “Over my dead body.”

When you return from the bathroom with another glass of wine for your wife and settle into her hold, you can’t help but feel how she holds you just the slightest bit tighter.

“Give me your engagement ring, and move your band over to another finger,” Melissa whispers into your ear.

You give her a slightly curious look, but do as told. No sooner is your wife down on one knee asking you to marry her (for the second time). Of course, you agree to marry her. The Schemmenti’s are overjoyed.

And when you get into the car and ask her what that was about, your wife just rolls her eyes. “Seamus said he’d ask you if I didn’t.”

“So, we’re really going through with a fake wedding?” you chuckle.

“We are.”

Four months later, on the anniversary of the actual day that the two of you got married, you hold a fake wedding in your backyard. The Abbott crew and your side of the family know that this is all to appease the Schemmentis, but they’re happy to play along and be there for you since they weren’t at the first one- with the exception of Barbara Howard. The Schemmenti family is thrilled to watch as Melissa gets married, even if it’s unknowingly for the second time.

You do everything by the books. You have an ‘ordained’ minister (Mr. Johnson), best people (Barbara of course serves as Melissa’s while your sister is yours), your father walks you down the makeshift aisle, the little baby that melted your heart the first time you met the Schemmenti side is the flower girl. Vows are said, rings are exchanged, a reception is had. It’s magical.

“You think we should’ve done this the first time?” Melissa asks as the two of you lay in bed later that night.

You just kiss her softly. “I wouldn’t change a thing about our story.”

A year goes by, and the two of you are spending your fifth (first) wedding anniversary together- somehow at a Schemmenti family Sunday dinner. It’s not like you mind or anything- they’re family. And, you had already celebrated just the two of you last night.

After church though, Barbara did drop off a cake to help make this year just the slightest bit more special- five years married is a big deal. The two of you thanked her kindly and then decided that you were going to take it to Theresa’s for dessert.

Only when you open it, there’s a slight hiccup. It’s clear that Barb had intended for the two of you to enjoy this cake in the privacy of your own home. It very clearly reads, “Happy Fifth Wedding Anniversary!” on it. And before you can close the box, Theresa gets a glance at it.

“Fifth?”

Both you and your wife hazard a glance at each other. You’ve just been caught.

“Uh,” you hum softly.

Melissa takes a deep breath before, “Ma, I have a confession…”

TAGS: (and lmk if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @morgananyx

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction

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doreminimi · 2 days ago

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love is blind [Bang Chan One-Shot]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷��: Idol!Bang Chan x Teacher!Reader

₊˚⊹♡⋆ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 15.1k (I got a bit carried away sksksk)

‧͙☾⁺༓˚*･ 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: None

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: In this modern era of finding love and vulnerability, Christopher and Y/N embark on an extraordinary journey in the experiment of "Love Is Blind." From the intimate and emotionally charged pods where they connect deeply without seeing each other, to the reveal and romantic getaway that cements their bond, their story explores the highs and lows of finding true love in unconventional ways. As they navigate the challenges of returning to their real lives, meeting families, and integrating their vastly different routines, their relationship is tested in ways they never anticipated. With moments of joy, tension, and growth, Christopher and Y/N learn what it means to truly commit to each other, culminating in a heartfelt preparation for their wedding. Will their love withstand the pressures of reality and blossom into forever?

a/n: Hi guys! I wrote this story because I’ve been recently obsessed with the Love Is Blind series, and it sparked an idea. I also noticed that there’s a Too Hot to Handle series about Bang Chan on here (do read her series @seospicybin — it’s so good, I’m obsessed! but remember it is for +18 audiences!). I thought, why not add a Love Is Blind one-shot to the mix? I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you have any suggestions or requests for stories, feel free to let me know—I’d love to hear your ideas. Don’t forget to like and comment if you enjoyed reading this story. Your support means the world to me! Thank you for reading, and I can’t wait to hear your thoughts! 💕

One:

Bang Chan adjusted the microphone inside his pod, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest as he took a steadying breath. Despite years of performing on the world’s biggest stages, this moment felt completely different. Here, he wasn’t the leader of Stray Kids or a global sensation—he was just Chris, a man hoping to connect with someone who saw him for who he truly was.

The anonymity of Love Is Blind was both exhilarating and terrifying. Without the weight of his career or the expectations of others, he felt a rare sense of freedom.

He tapped the microphone gently and leaned forward, his Australian accent warm and inviting. “Hi, I’m Christopher, but you can just call me Chris. What about you?”

There was a brief pause before a voice came through, light and confident. “Hi Chris, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Chris smiled, a bit of his nervousness fading. He leaned slightly closer to the opaque wall, as if that could somehow shorten the distance between them. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N. So, is this as weird for you as it is for me? How are you feeling about this whole... talking-to-a-wall situation?”

Y/N’s laugh was immediate, bright and disarming. “Oh, absolutely. It’s bizarre! I mean, I’ve had long phone conversations before, but knowing there’s a person on the other side who might... you know, become my future husband? That’s a first.”

Chris chuckled, his own nerves softening at her lighthearted tone. “Same here. It’s exciting, though, isn’t it? A bit nerve-wracking, but exciting. Like, this could actually lead to something real.”

“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “Okay, let��s start simple. Tell me something about you—what’s your dream vacation?”

Chris leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Definitely the beach. Growing up in Sydney, the ocean was my happy place. There’s something about the sound of waves, the salt in the air—it just clears your head, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Y/N replied with a sigh. “Anywhere with a beach and good food? That’s my dream too. Add in no cell phones, and I’m sold. I’d love to completely disconnect for a while.”

Chris laughed softly. “Alright, but if we’re talking beaches, I need to know—are you competitive? Because I’m already imagining us having a sandcastle-building contest.”

Y/N’s tone turned playful. “Competitive? Let’s just say I don’t like to lose. But what about you?”

“Oh, I’m competitive, alright,” Chris said, his grin evident in his voice. “But I should warn you, I don’t lose easily.”

“We’ll see about that,” Y/N teased, her voice laced with mock challenge. “I hope you’re ready to eat your words.”

“So, Chris,” Y/N began, her voice curious. “If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

Chris hummed thoughtfully. “Tough one, but I think I’d have to go with pizza. You can change the toppings, make it fancy, or keep it simple. Plus, who doesn’t love pizza? What about you?”

“Noodles,” Y/N said without missing a beat. “You can have them fried, in soup, hot or cold, with all kinds of meats, veggies, or sauces. Plus, there are so many different shapes, each one feels like a whole new experience!”

Chris laughed. “Solid choice. Okay, what’s your guilty pleasure TV show?”

“Oh, definitely The Great British Bake Off,” Y/N admitted. “There’s something so comforting about watching people bake under pressure while I’m curled up on the couch, eating snacks.”

Chris flashed a wide grin. “That’s a solid pick. Mine’s probably Friends. I’ve seen it so many times, it’s practically a comfort blanket at this point. And yes, I absolutely dominate at trivia.”

Y/N laughed, her voice playful. “Oh, is that so? Challenge accepted. Trivia showdown coming up—you better bring your A-game.”

A mischievous glint sparked in her eye as she leaned closer to the wall. “Alright, let’s switch gears. If you could have any superpower, what would it be?”

Chris chuckled, the question catching him off guard. “Teleportation, without a doubt. Imagine skipping traffic or spontaneously showing up at a beach halfway around the world. Total game-changer.”

“Good choice,” Y/N said approvingly. “I’d go with the ability to stop time. Think of all the naps I could take and still get everything done!”

Chris laughed, his voice warm. “Now that’s both practical and genius. I’d never have thought of that, but honestly, I might be jealous of your choice.”

As their laughter echoed in the pods, both felt a growing ease and connection. The wall between them didn’t seem like a barrier—it was just part of the journey toward something real.

By the second day, Chris and Y/N’s conversations felt natural, as if they’d known each other for years. The initial nerves had faded, replaced by genuine curiosity and growing comfort.

“So, tell me about your family,” Y/N asked. “Do you have siblings?”

Chris smiled, leaning back. “I do. I’m the eldest of three. Growing up, I was always the one looking out for everyone else. I guess that’s why I’ve always been in leadership roles,it’s kind of ingrained in me.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure,” Y/N said empathetically.

“It was,” Chris admitted. “But it also taught me a lot about love and responsibility. My family’s my anchor. When I moved to a new country to pursue my career, they supported me, even though it meant being so far away. That kind of love... it’s something I want to give back.”

“That’s beautiful, Chris,” Y/N said softly. “It’s clear how much they mean to you.”

“What about you?” he asked. “What’s your family like?”

“Well,” she began, “I’m the oldest too. But things changed a lot when I lost my younger sister. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, but it also made me appreciate the little things. It’s why I ended up going into teaching,I wanted to make a difference, even in small ways.”

Chris’s voice softened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must have been incredibly hard.”

“It was,” she admitted, “but it shaped who I am. Teaching gives me purpose. I love seeing kids discover their potential, it reminds me to keep pushing forward.”

“You sound like an amazing teacher,” Chris said sincerely. “Your students are lucky to have you.”

Y/N chuckled. “Thank you. And if I ever need to win over their attention, I’ll just bring you in to talk about your sandcastle skills. What about you? What’s something that’s shaped who you are today?”

Chris hesitated for a moment, then spoke. “Honestly? Music. It’s been my constant through everything, good days, bad days, everything in between. It’s how I express myself when words don’t feel like enough.”

Y/N’s voice softened. “That’s beautiful, Chris. It sounds like music isn’t just something you do, it’s who you are.”

Chris smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “Exactly. Thanks for getting that, Y/N. Talking to you... it just feels easy.”

“It does,” Y/N agreed, her voice warm. “I can’t wait to see where this goes.”

Chris glanced at the clock, reluctant to end their conversation but knowing they’d have more time tomorrow. “I guess we have to wrap up for now,” he said, his tone tinged with regret. “But I can’t wait to talk to you again tomorrow.”

Y/N’s laugh was soft and shy. “Me too, Chris.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N. See you tomorrow,” he said softly, listening as the gentle click of the door on her side signaled the end of their conversation.

As the session ended, Chris leaned back in his chair, a lingering smile on his face.

In the men’s lounge, Chris quickly bonded with a few of the other participants. Mason, a marketing executive, and Elijah, a chef, became his closest allies.

“Alright, Chris,” Mason said, leaning back on the couch. “Tell us about Y/N.”

Chris grinned, his dimples deepening. “She’s incredible. Thoughtful, smart, funny... Talking to her feels effortless. Like we just click, you know?”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’re smitten.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Chris said, his grin widening. “But yeah, there’s something special about her. She has this way of making me feel comfortable, like I can just... be myself.”

Mason clapped him on the back. “Sounds like you’ve got a keeper, mate.”

Meanwhile, in the women’s lounge, Y/N found a confidante in Amelia, a bubbly nurse with a knack for reading people.

“You have to tell me about Chris,” Amelia said one evening, practically bouncing with excitement.

Y/N smiled, her cheeks flushing. “He’s amazing. He listens in a way that makes me feel... seen. It’s like he really cares about what I have to say.”

Amelia sighed dreamily. “That’s how it should be. So, are you falling for him?”

Y/N hesitated before nodding. “I think I might be. He just gets me in a way no one else has.”

By the fourth day, their conversations turned more reflective and meaningful.

“What does love mean to you?” Y/N asked one evening, her voice soft but steady.

Chris paused, considering his words. “I think love is showing up. Even when it’s hard, even when you’re scared. It’s about being vulnerable and trusting someone with the messy parts of you.”

“That’s beautiful,” Y/N said. “For me, love is a choice. It’s deciding every day to be there for someone, no matter what.”

Chris smiled. “I like that. It feels real.”

They spent hours talking about their hopes, fears, and dreams. Chris shared stories about nights when he felt lost and how he’d turn to his guitar for solace. Y/N opened up about her first teaching job and the joy of watching her students grow.

By the fifth day, Chris was certain he had found something truly extraordinary. Kneeling in his pod with a velvet box in hand, he took a deep breath, steadying himself before finding the words to speak.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but emotional, “I’ve never felt so connected to someone I’ve never even seen. You make me want to be better, to show up in ways I never have before. Will you marry me?”

There was a moment of silence, and then her voice came through, trembling with emotion. “Yes, Chris. I’ll marry you.”

Though separated by the pod walls, both felt an overwhelming sense of joy and certainty. Chris had found someone who understood him, not as an idol, but as a man. And Y/N had found someone who made her feel cherished and seen.

Their journey was just beginning.

Two:

The moment had arrived,the reveal. The anticipation was palpable as Chris, dressed sharply in a tailored suit, stood at one end of the runway. He fidgeted slightly, rolling his shoulders and adjusting his cuffs, his nerves visible despite his calm demeanor. At the other end, Y/N waited, her heart hammering in her chest. She smoothed down her dress, whispering to herself, “This is it. No turning back now.”

The sound of the sliding screens filled the room as they began to part. Y/N took a deep breath, her hands gripping the sides of her dress. As the screens opened fully, their eyes met for the first time.

Both froze.

Chris’s breath caught in his throat. She’s stunning.

Y/N’s eyes widened as recognition sparked. “Wait a second,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over her pounding heartbeat.

The man standing before her wasn’t just Chris, the kind, thoughtful voice she had grown to love in the pods. This was Bang Chan,Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids, a global music sensation.

Chris noticed her hesitation and smiled nervously, his dimples deepening. He stepped forward tentatively, his voice soft. “Hi.”

Y/N blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Hi,” she replied shyly, her voice muffled against his shoulder as he pulled her into a warm embrace.

As they stepped back, her hands instinctively flew to her mouth. “You’re...you’re Bang Chan,” she finally managed, her voice a mix of disbelief and awe.

Chris scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his face. “Uh, yeah. That’s me. Surprise?”

Y/N laughed nervously, her eyes darting between his face and the rest of him. “This is... I mean, I didn’t expect, You’re him! I didn’t think I’d be meeting a literal superstar!”

Chris chuckled, his voice soothing. “I was kind of hoping I could just be ‘Chris’ for you. The guy you’ve been talking to in the pods, not the guy on stage.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath as she tried to process. “You’re still him. You’re still Chris. But... wow. This is a lot to take in.”

“I get it,” he said gently, his eyes searching hers. “I should’ve told you, but in the pods, I just wanted to be honest and real without all the noise that comes with... you know, my career.”

Y/N’s initial shock began to fade, replaced by a soft smile. “You’re right. And honestly, I’m glad I got to know you like that first. You’re amazing, Chris. Superstar or not.”

His smile widened, relief evident in his expression. “Thank you. That means everything to me.”

He reached for her hand, his touch grounding her. “Can we start over, right here? Just Chris and Y/N?”

She nodded, her smile growing. “I’d like that.”

They moved to the nearby bench, their hands naturally finding each other. Sitting down, Chris turned to her, his expression serious but filled with warmth. “You’re exactly who I hoped you’d be,” he said, his voice soft. “Inside and out.”

Y/N laughed nervously, still absorbing the reality of the moment. “It’s so weird seeing your face now. It’s like... I know you, but you’re also this whole new person.”

Chris chuckled. “I feel the same. You’re familiar, but seeing you now... you’re even more incredible than I imagined.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips, and she squeezed his hand. “And you... well, you’re way more than I ever dreamed of.”

Chris took a deep breath, reaching into his pocket. “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he said, his tone tinged with excitement.

Y/N watched as he knelt down on one knee, her breath catching.

“Y/N,” he began, opening a small velvet box to reveal a sparkling ring. “I already know I want to spend forever with you. Will you marry me?”

Her hands flew to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. “Chris,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She nodded fervently, her words spilling out. “Yes, Chris. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

He slipped the ring onto her finger, his hands steady despite his own emotions. Standing, he pulled her into a tight embrace, their laughter and tears mingling in a moment of pure joy.

As the screens began to close behind them, signaling the end of the reveal, they walked back toward their respective lounges. But their eyes never left each other, their faces lit with joy and the promise of the life they were about to build together.

Y/N glanced back at Chris one last time before stepping through the door, a wide smile spreading across her face. “This is going to be one heck of a story to tell,” she said, her voice tinged with excitement and disbelief.

Chris grinned back, his dimples deepening. “Our story,” he said softly. “And it’s just beginning.”

Three:

The following week, the couples began arriving at the resort, one limo at a time, provided by the production team. The energy was palpable as each pair prepared for the next stage of their journey.

Day One

Y/N was the first to arrive. Stepping out of the sleek black limo, she marveled at the beauty of the beachfront property. The hotel’s elegant façade and the sound of crashing waves immediately put her at ease. A staff member escorted her to her suite, a luxurious space with a spacious balcony overlooking the ocean.

She placed her bags in the bedroom, admiring the plush king-sized bed adorned with soft white linens, then began to explore the rest of the suite. She trailed her fingers along the marble countertops in the kitchenette, peeked into the enormous bathroom with its spa-like tub, and finally stepped out onto the balcony. The sunset cast a golden hue over the water, and Y/N smiled to herself, feeling a sense of peace.

Chris arrived shortly after. As his limo pulled up, he took a deep breath, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He was excited and a little nervous to see Y/N again after their reveal. He quickly made his way to their shared suite, the door opening with a soft click.

“Hey beautiful,” he whispered as he stepped inside, spotting her on the balcony. She turned around, her face lighting up as she saw him. He walked up to her and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek. “Long time no see.”

Y/N laughed softly, her heart fluttering at the sight of him. “You’re late,” she teased, leaning into him.

“Worth the wait?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Definitely,” she replied, her smile widening.

They spent the next few minutes exploring the suite together. Chris pointed out the little details he loved, like the vintage-inspired art on the walls and the sleek coffee maker in the kitchenette. Y/N couldn’t stop laughing as Chris dramatically tested the couch for “maximum comfort.”

Eventually, they found themselves back on the balcony, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Chris leaned against the railing, his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “This feels unreal,” he said softly. “Like a dream.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes on the horizon. “But it’s our dream,” she replied. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

After a while, they began preparing for the evening’s event. Y/N slipped into a stunning crocheted bodycon dress that accentuated her figure, while Chris opted for a casual yet stylish beach-ready look: a cotton button-up shirt paired with khaki shorts.

“You look beautiful,” Chris said as Y/N adjusted her earrings.

“And you look like you belong on a magazine cover,” Y/N teased, brushing a hand over his shoulder.

Hand in hand, they strolled toward the poolside bar, anticipation bubbling as they prepared to meet the other couples.

On their first night at the resort, the couples gathered by the pool for drinks, laughter, and the much-anticipated moment of putting faces to the names they’d been hearing about in the pods. The warm breeze carried the faint sound of waves in the background as everyone slowly began to gather, the energy buzzing with curiosity.

The men grouped together by the bar while the women settled into lounge chairs near the pool. Both groups exchanged nervous glances, clearly intrigued by the people their significant others had been talking about during the pod experiment.

Mason, one of the more outspoken men, finally broke the ice. “Alright, let’s meet these women you’ve been talking about nonstop,” he said, nudging Chris playfully. “I need to see if Y/N is as amazing as you’ve made her sound.”

The women laughed from their side of the pool, clearly overhearing the comment. Amelia leaned over to Y/N and whispered, “They’re already hyping us up. Let’s see if they live up to the chatter.”

Y/N grinned. “No pressure, right?”

One by one, the men approached the women, introducing themselves and exchanging warm handshakes or hugs. Chris found himself locking eyes with Sarah first. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, smiling. “Mason hasn’t stopped talking about how funny you are.”

Sarah laughed. “I’m sure he’s exaggerating, but it’s nice to finally meet the guy Y/N won’t stop gushing about.”

When Chris finally reached Y/N, the room seemed to pause for a moment. He leaned down slightly, grinning. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks warming. “And this is the guy who’s been making me blush in the pods.”

The group naturally broke off into smaller conversations, everyone eager to learn more about each other. Mason was deep into a conversation with Amelia about their mutual love for hiking, while Chris and Y/N mingled with the others, exchanging stories about their pod experiences.

Eventually, the women regrouped on the lounge chairs, a playful energy bubbling between them. “Alright,” Amelia announced, holding her drink up dramatically, “it’s time to interrogate these men. Let’s call them over one by one.”

The women erupted into laughter as Sarah called Mason over first. “Come on, Mason! Time to put you in the hot seat.”

Mason walked over, mock apprehension on his face. “What are you guys plotting?”

Amelia grinned. “What’s your favorite thing about Sarah?”

Mason’s expression softened as he looked over at Sarah. “It’s her humor. She has this amazing ability to make everyone feel comfortable and laugh, no matter the situation.”

The women cheered as Mason walked back to the bar, shaking his head and laughing. One by one, the men were called over and asked the same question. Each gave heartfelt answers, earning playful teasing and cheers from the women.

Finally, it was Chris’s turn. “Alright, Y/N,” Amelia said, turning to her with a grin. “Get ready. Your boy’s about to spill all.”

Chris walked over, his usual confident demeanor softened by the teasing smiles of the women. “What’s going on here?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“Chris,” Amelia began dramatically, “what’s your favorite thing about Y/N?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Her heart,” he said simply, his eyes finding Y/N’s. “She’s got this way of making everyone around her feel seen and appreciated. Every time I talk to her, I feel like I can be completely myself. And her laugh? Don’t even get me started.”

The women swooned collectively, cheering loudly as Y/N blushed. “Okay, that was definitely the best answer of the night,” Amelia declared.

Chris returned to the bar, shaking his head and laughing as the women continued their playful teasing. Y/N leaned back in her chair, her heart full from the words he’d shared.

The group dissolved into laughter, and the evening continued with lively games, shared anecdotes, and even a chaotic impromptu karaoke session where Chris belted out a tune. Y/N cheered louder than anyone else, clapping along with the beat.

After the couples mingled for a while, the men naturally gravitated to a corner by the pool, drinks in hand, while the women gathered near the lounge chairs. Chris leaned back in his seat, listening to the other men recount their pod journeys and impressions of their partners.

“So, Chris,” one of the guys asked, nudging him, “what’s Y/N like in person? She seems really sweet.”

“She’s incredible,” Chris replied, his dimples deepening with his smile. “She’s so much more than I expected. She’s got this strength that’s so inspiring but also this warmth that just draws you in. Honestly, she makes me feel grounded.”

The other men nodded in approval. “That’s a big deal, man. You seem smitten,” one of them teased.

Chris chuckled. “Guilty. What about you guys? How are things looking now that we’re out of the pods?”

The conversation turned lively, with each man sharing stories of their first impressions and the quirks they were discovering about their partners. Laughter erupted as one recounted a chaotic wardrobe mishap earlier in the day, and another shared how his partner had dominated him in a poolside trivia game.

“It’s crazy how different this is now that we’re face-to-face,” Chris remarked. “But honestly, I think it’s made everything feel...real.”

The others nodded in agreement, raising their glasses for a toast. “Here’s to surviving the pods and what comes next.”

Meanwhile, Y/N and the other women sat on lounge chairs, chatting animatedly. One of the women leaned closer to Y/N. “Okay, spill. What’s Chris like in real life?”

Y/N smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s amazing. He’s thoughtful and funny, and honestly, I think I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he’s real. And those dimples...they’re dangerous,” she added with a laugh.

The group laughed along, and one of the women playfully fanned herself. “Dimples will get you every time.”

“So, what’s surprised you the most about him?” another asked.

“How much he pays attention,” Y/N said, her voice softening. “In the pods, I knew he was a good listener, but now I see how much he remembers the little things I’ve shared. Like earlier today, he mentioned this random thing I said about my favorite flowers, and I didn’t even remember telling him.”

One of the women sighed dramatically. “Ugh, he sounds perfect. Can we trade?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Not a chance.”

The women exchanged more stories, comparing notes about their partners’ habits, quirks, and sweet gestures. They cheered each other on, promising to support one another through the challenges ahead.

The conversations among the men and women set the tone for a night filled with camaraderie and connection. As the evening wound down, both groups left with a deeper appreciation for their relationships and the shared journey they were all embarking on.

Day Two

The sun peeked over the horizon, casting golden hues across the ocean as Chris bounded down the sandy path, his energy contagious even this early in the morning. He stopped by a row of surfboards neatly propped against a wooden rack, glancing back to see Y/N trudging behind him, her coffee still in hand.

“You’re way too cheerful for this hour,” she grumbled, taking a sip.

“That’s because today’s mission is to turn you into a pro surfer,” Chris declared, flashing his signature grin.

Y/N raised a skeptical brow, looking at the boards like they might attack her. “A pro? Let’s aim for ‘not immediately falling flat on my face,’ shall we?”

“Trust me,” he said, grabbing a board and handing it to her. “I’m a fantastic teacher. Just follow my lead.”

“And by ‘fantastic,’ you mean you’ll laugh at me when I inevitably wipe out?” she teased.

“Absolutely,” Chris replied with a wink.

After a quick lesson on the basics, they waded into the water. Chris demonstrated how to paddle and pop up onto the board with effortless grace. “See? Easy,” he said, balancing perfectly as a wave carried him to shore.

Y/N glared at him, hands on her hips. “Show-off.”

Her first few attempts were, predictably, disastrous. She fell forward, then backward, swallowing a fair share of saltwater. Chris paddled over, chuckling. “You okay there, champ?”

“I’m fine,” she huffed, spitting out water. “Just rethinking all my life choices.”

“Come on,” he said, his voice encouraging. “You’re getting there. Just keep your knees bent and look straight ahead. You’ve got this.”

With his guidance,and a fair amount of determination,Y/N finally managed to stand on the board as a gentle wave carried her toward the shore.

“Look at me!” she shouted triumphantly, her arms flailing for balance.

“Who’s the pro now?” she teased, glancing back at Chris just before she lost her balance and tumbled into the water.

Chris paddled over, laughing so hard he nearly fell off his own board. “That was impressive for a solid three seconds.”

Y/N splashed him playfully. “You’re supposed to be encouraging, not heckling.”

By the afternoon, the adrenaline of surfing gave way to the peaceful calm of paddleboarding. The turquoise waters shimmered under the sun as they drifted side by side.

“So,” Y/N said, balancing her paddle across her lap. “What’s a guilty pleasure you’d never admit on TV?”

Chris paused, his paddle still. “Rom-coms. I’m a sucker for a good ‘enemies-to-lovers’ plot.”

“No way!” Y/N said, nearly tipping her board as she burst into laughter. “That’s my favorite trope! Alright, we’re definitely having a rom-com movie night after this.”

“You’re on,” he replied, his grin widening. “But only if you promise not to roast me for quoting all the lines.”

“Deal,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, they sat at a small table on the beach, the flicker of candlelight casting soft shadows. Plates of fresh seafood and tropical drinks adorned the table.

Chris reached for Y/N’s hand across the table. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this at peace,” he admitted, his voice quiet but sincere.

Y/N smiled, her fingers curling around his. “Me neither. This feels... easy. Like it’s supposed to be this way.”

He nodded, his eyes locking with hers. “I could get used to this.”

“Well, you’ll have to keep up the charm, Mr. Surf Pro,” she teased.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chris replied with a smirk. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Later that night, they sat on the sand, the ocean waves gently lapping at their feet. Chris leaned back, resting on his hands as he looked up at the stars.

“Alright, my turn to ask a tough question,” Y/N said, tilting her head. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance?”

Chris thought for a moment. “Honestly? Just... take a step back. Life’s always been so go-go-go. I’ve never really taken the time to just be.”

Y/N’s gaze softened. “Well, consider this your start. No deadlines, no expectations. Just... being.”

Chris smiled at her, his expression filled with gratitude. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is,” she replied, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Day Three

The third day brought a new kind of excitement as Chris and Y/N ventured into a charming seaside town. The cobblestone streets were lined with colorful storefronts, their windows displaying everything from hand-painted ceramics to jars of locally made jam. The air was thick with the aroma of freshly baked pastries, sea salt, and hints of lavender from a nearby flower stand.

Y/N’s eyes lit up as she spotted a small bakery with its doors wide open, the scent of buttery croissants wafting through. “We’re stopping there,” she announced, grabbing Chris’s hand and tugging him along.

“You don’t have to convince me,” he said, laughing as he pulled out his wallet. “I smelled that place from two blocks away.”

Inside, the bakery was cozy and inviting, with wooden shelves stacked high with golden pastries and an old chalkboard menu listing the day’s specials. Y/N pressed her face to the glass display case, eyes darting between the flaky croissants, glistening fruit tarts, and delicate macarons.

“Everything looks so good,” she said, practically drooling.

Chris leaned over her shoulder, pointing to a chocolate almond croissant. “That one. Trust me, it’s life-changing.”

They ordered a selection to share, along with iced lattes, and found a small table by the window. Y/N took a bite of the croissant and closed her eyes, letting out an exaggerated groan of delight. “Oh my god. This is heavenly. How did you know?”

“I have excellent taste,” Chris said smugly, taking a bite of his own.

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “We’ll see about that when we debate ice cream flavors later.”

After their indulgent breakfast, they wandered the streets, stumbling upon a street performer playing a soft melody on his guitar. The music drifted through the air, drawing a small crowd. Y/N stopped in her tracks, a mischievous smile spreading across her face.

“You know what I’m going to say,” she teased, turning to Chris.

“No,” he said immediately, though the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

“Come on,” she coaxed, nudging him with her elbow. “You’re literally a musician. How can you not?”

“I’m not doing it,” Chris insisted, shaking his head.

“Please?” Y/N said, her eyes widening in mock pleading. “For me?”

He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But only because you’re cute when you beg.”

Y/N clapped excitedly as Chris approached the street performer, who graciously handed over his guitar. “Don’t judge me too harshly,” he muttered to the crowd before launching into a cheesy rendition of I'm Yours by Jason Mraz.

The playful tone of his voice and exaggerated gestures had everyone laughing and clapping along. Y/N’s cheeks flushed red as he pointedly sang the chorus to her, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

When he finished, the small crowd erupted into applause, and Y/N threw her arms around him. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, laughing. “But I love it.”

“Ridiculous and charming,” he corrected, grinning. “Don’t forget that.”

The rest of the day was spent wandering through the town’s quirky shops. They tried on silly hats at a boutique, debated over the best scents for candles at a local artisan’s stall, and picked out small souvenirs for each other.

“Okay,” Chris said, holding up a tiny ceramic seahorse. “This one’s for you because it reminds me of how determined you were on that surfboard yesterday.”

Y/N laughed, taking the figurine from him. “And this,” she said, handing him a keychain shaped like a wave, “is for you, because you’re officially my surf coach now.”

They continued their playful banter as they explored, eventually stumbling upon an ice cream stand with a long line of locals,a clear sign of quality.

“Alright,” Y/N said as they approached the counter. “What’s your flavor?”

“Chocolate. No contest,” Chris said confidently.

“Boring,” Y/N teased. “Strawberry’s where it’s at.”

“Strawberry?” Chris repeated, feigning disbelief. “You’ve lost all credibility.”

As they sat on a bench overlooking the pier, licking their cones, they continued their mock argument.

“You’re objectively wrong,” Y/N declared.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Chris said with a smirk. “But deep down, you know chocolate is superior.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in shades of pink and orange, Y/N leaned her head on Chris’s shoulder. The gentle sound of waves lapping against the pier added to the tranquil atmosphere.

“This is officially one of my favorite days,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of contentment.

Chris kissed the top of her head, his hand resting lightly on hers. “Mine too. You make everything better.”

Day Four

“Today,” Chris announced with theatrical flair as they entered the resort’s open-air kitchen, “we conquer the art of pasta-making. Prepare to be amazed.”

Y/N paused, eyeing him skeptically as she tied her apron. “Amazed at how badly this will go?”

“Have a little faith,” Chris teased, adjusting his own apron with a flourish. “I’m practically a professional chef.”

She snorted, rolling up her sleeves. “You burnt toast the other day.”

“Details,” he said, waving her off dramatically. “That was a fluke. Today, I’m in my element.”

The kitchen was set up with individual stations, each equipped with flour, eggs, rolling pins, and pasta machines. The instructor,a jovial Italian chef named Marco,gave them a brief tutorial on making fresh pasta.

“Remember,” Marco said with a heavy accent, “the dough must be smooth, like a baby’s cheek.”

“Smooth like a baby’s cheek,” Chris repeated, winking at Y/N. “Got it.”

It wasn’t long before the kitchen descended into chaos. Chris’s dough came together quickly, the perfect blend of soft and elastic. He kneaded it with surprising precision, humming a little tune as he worked.

Y/N, on the other hand, was struggling. Her dough stubbornly stuck to the counter, her hands, and even the rolling pin.

“Are you sure you’re following the instructions?” Chris asked, leaning over to inspect her work.

“Excuse me, Chef Gordon Ramsay,” Y/N shot back, “but this dough has a personal vendetta against me.”

Chris chuckled, effortlessly rolling out his own dough into a perfect sheet. “Natural talent,” he said smugly, tossing a small pinch of flour in her direction.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, a mischievous glint flashing. “Oh, it’s on.”

She grabbed a handful of flour and flicked it at his face, laughing as it landed on his nose and hair.

Chris froze, blinking through the cloud of flour. “You just declared war,” he said, his voice low and playful.

Before she could react, he scooped up a handful of flour and lobbed it back at her, laughing as she squealed and ducked.

The instructor sighed dramatically from across the room. “This is not how you make pasta!”

By the time they finished, the kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour covered the counters, the floor, and both of them. Despite the mess, they managed to produce two plates of pasta, though neither looked particularly appetizing.

Sitting at a small table overlooking the garden, they tasted their creations.

“Mine has character,” Y/N declared, twirling a forkful of slightly lumpy pasta.

“Character is code for uneven and chewy,” Chris countered, smirking as he took a bite of his perfectly uniform noodles. “Boringly perfect tastes better.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a bite of his pasta. “Okay, fine. Yours is better. But mine has personality.”

“Personality doesn’t make up for the fact that you almost broke your teeth,” Chris teased, dodging a playful swat.

That evening, they lounged by the resort’s infinity pool, the moon casting a silver glow over the water. Each had a cocktail in hand, their earlier antics giving way to a quieter, more reflective mood.

Chris leaned back on the chaise lounge, swirling the ice in his glass. “You know, I used to sneak out of the house to write songs when I was younger. My parents thought I was sleeping, but I’d be in the garage scribbling lyrics.”

Y/N turned to him, intrigued. “What kind of songs?”

“Terrible ones,” he admitted, laughing. “But it didn’t matter. Writing was my escape. It felt like the only way I could say what I was feeling.”

“That’s amazing,” Y/N said, her voice soft. “I used to make my cousins sit through my ‘teaching lessons.’ I’d make these little worksheets and quizzes, and they’d bribe me with candy to let them leave.”

Chris chuckled. “Sounds like you were a natural educator from the start.”

Y/N smiled, leaning her head back to look at the stars. “I guess we both found what we love early on.”

Chris glanced at her, his expression thoughtful. “You know, I’ve been on a lot of adventures, but this? Sitting here with you, talking about life? This might be my favorite.”

She turned to him, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “You’re going to make me blush, Chris.”

“Good,” he said with a grin, raising his glass. “Here’s to many more moments like this.”

Y/N clinked her glass against his. “To many more.”

Day Five

By the fifth day, Chris and Y/N had settled into an effortless rhythm,a blend of playful teasing and deeply meaningful conversations. The morning began lazily, with the soft sound of waves in the distance and the gentle strumming of Chris’s guitar on the balcony.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand, and leaned against the doorframe, watching him. The sunlight caught the angles of his face, and she smiled to herself, feeling a warmth she couldn’t quite explain.

“Good morning, Rockstar,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

Chris glanced up, his dimples showing as he grinned. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” she replied, settling into the chair across from him. “Play something for me?”

“What do you want to hear?” he asked, his fingers pausing on the strings.

“Surprise me,” she said, resting her chin in her hand.

He nodded, strumming a few soft chords before launching into a gentle, romantic melody. His voice, low and smooth, carried the tune effortlessly. The lyrics spoke of longing, connection, and finding someone who felt like home.

When he finished, Y/N clapped softly, her smile wide. “You’re unfairly talented. It’s actually annoying.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he teased, setting the guitar aside. “Do you play any instruments?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nope. I tried piano as a kid, but my teacher said I had the attention span of a goldfish.”

Chris laughed. “That’s a shame. You could’ve been my duet partner.”

“Well,” she said with a grin, “I’ll just have to be your number-one fan instead.”

In the afternoon, they headed to the beach for a snorkeling excursion. The water was crystal clear, revealing vibrant coral reefs teeming with marine life. Chris helped adjust Y/N’s mask, his hands steady as he tightened the strap.

“Alright,” he said, his voice muffled slightly by his snorkel. “You ready to meet some fish?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/N replied, though her wide eyes suggested she wasn’t entirely confident.

They waded into the water and dipped below the surface. Y/N’s initial nervousness melted away as she marveled at the underwater world,schools of colorful fish darting among the coral, sea urchins nestled in crevices, and the gentle sway of anemones.

Chris stayed close, pointing out interesting sights and giving her an enthusiastic thumbs-up every time she spotted something new.

Suddenly, a small, curious fish darted toward Y/N, brushing against her leg. She squealed, surfacing quickly.

“What happened?” Chris asked, laughing as he came up beside her.

“That fish got way too personal!” she said, her voice half-exasperated, half-amused.

Chris laughed so hard he nearly swallowed seawater. “This was your idea, remember?”

“Yeah, and it was a great idea,until the fish decided to invade my personal space,” she retorted, making him laugh even harder.

They floated side by side, the gentle waves lulling them into a peaceful rhythm.

“This is amazing,” Y/N said, her voice softer now. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so... connected to everything.”

Chris nodded. “It’s pretty incredible. Moments like this remind you how small we are, in the best way.”

That evening, they found themselves back on the balcony, the sky painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple as the sun dipped below the horizon. The sound of the ocean was a soothing backdrop to their conversation.

Chris leaned against the railing, his gaze on the horizon. “What scares you most about this?” Y/N asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

He glanced at her, his expression thoughtful. “Letting you down,” he admitted. “I know my life can be chaotic,always moving, always busy. I don’t want that to overshadow what we have.”

Y/N reached out, her hand finding his. “We’ll figure it out,” she said firmly. “I don’t expect perfect,I just want us to try. That’s all I need.”

Chris smiled, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “You make me want to try,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

They stood there for a while, watching as the last rays of sunlight disappeared and the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky.

Later, they curled up together on the outdoor sofa, wrapped in a soft blanket. The night air was cool, but the warmth between them made everything feel just right.

Chris traced patterns on Y/N’s hand with his thumb, his voice low. “I don’t know how this happened, but I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Y/N smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. “I was just thinking the same thing. It’s like... all the pieces just fit.”

They talked about their favorite moments from the week,the flour fight during pasta-making, their impromptu duet with the street performer, and Y/N’s three-second surfing triumph.

“You’ve made this week unforgettable,” Chris said, his voice soft.

“So have you,” Y/N replied, her eyes meeting his.

They sat in comfortable silence after that, the weight of the moment settling over them. Both knew they’d found something extraordinary,something worth holding onto long after the week was over.

Four:

The final morning of the honeymoon phase arrived, and the couples were gathered together at the resort’s grand dining area. The hosts greeted them with a bittersweet announcement. “The holiday is over,” one began. “Now, the real test begins. You’ll be returning to your day-to-day lives. The following weeks will determine if the connection you’ve built can survive outside this bubble.”

There was a mix of excitement and apprehension among the couples. The hosts continued, “During this phase, you will meet each other’s families, experience their homes, jobs, and routines. You’ll get a glimpse into the realities of what married life might look like for you. This is your chance to see how your lives align.”

As the gathering concluded, the couples were handed their phones for the first time in weeks. “You can reconnect with your loved ones,” the hosts explained. “Update them on what’s happened in the pods and during your vacation.”

Y/N turned on her phone, her notifications exploding with missed messages from friends and family. Beside her, Chris chuckled as he scrolled through similar chaos. “Looks like we have a lot of catching up to do,” he said.

Returning home meant diving headfirst into the rhythm of their daily lives, a stark contrast to the dreamy bubble they had shared at the resort. The transition was jarring, but both Y/N and Chris were determined to make it work.

For Y/N, her first day back at school was chaotic yet fulfilling. As soon as she walked into her classroom, a chorus of excited voices greeted her.

“Miss Y/N! You’re back!”

“Where did you go? Did you go somewhere fun?”

“Did you bring us souvenirs?”

Y/N laughed, setting her bag down on her desk. One of her younger students, Sarah, tugged on her sleeve, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Miss Y/N, was it a secret mission?” she asked, whispering as if she’d uncovered something big.

“Something like that,” Y/N replied with a playful smile. “Let’s just say it was a very special adventure.”

Her students buzzed with excitement, their imaginations running wild. The joy of being back reminded Y/N why she loved teaching, but the demands of her job quickly caught up to her. Lesson planning, grading, and endless meetings filled her days, leaving her exhausted by the time she got home. Still, she made it a point to text Chris during her breaks, sharing snippets of her day,a funny thing a student said, a picture of the classroom art project, or simply a quick, “Hope your day’s going okay.”

Meanwhile, Chris was equally swamped at his music company. His team welcomed him back enthusiastically, but a mountain of projects awaited him. Deadlines loomed, and the pressure to catch up was intense. Late nights in the studio became the norm as he worked to tie up loose ends and push forward with new initiatives.

During one particularly hectic day, Chris slipped into a quiet corner of the studio and dialed Y/N’s number. The line rang twice before she picked up.

“Hey, you,” she said, her voice soft but tired.

“Hey,” he replied, leaning against the wall. “How’s my favorite teacher?”

She chuckled. “Exhausted. My kids were like little tornadoes today. One of them tried to convince me that glue sticks are edible.”

“Sounds like an adventurous day,” he said, grinning. “I, on the other hand, have been trapped in the studio for hours. If I hear one more drum loop, I might lose it.”

“Can’t you take a break?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

“This is my break,” he said warmly. “Talking to you.”

Her heart softened, and for a moment, the exhaustion melted away. “I miss you,” she admitted quietly.

“I miss you too,” he said. “But we’ll get through this. Just a little more juggling, and we’ll find our balance.”

Balancing their busy schedules was no easy task. There were days when their texts went unanswered for hours and calls were cut short by unexpected meetings or studio interruptions. Yet, they both made an effort.

One evening, Y/N sent him a photo of a sunset she’d caught on her drive home with the caption, “Reminded me of our trip. Hope your day’s winding down.”

Chris replied with a quick selfie from the studio, his headphones askew and a tired but playful smile on his face. “Not quite, but this helped. You always know how to make my day better.”

Though they were miles apart, those little moments of connection kept them tethered to each other. Both Y/N and Chris knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but they were determined to navigate it together, one day at a time.

The weekend brought the much-anticipated meeting with Y/N’s family. Chris, dressed in a crisp button-up shirt and jeans, clutched a bouquet of flowers in one hand while the other fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve as they walked up the driveway to her parents’ house.

Y/N noticed his nervous energy and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re nervous,” she teased, her eyes twinkling.

Chris chuckled nervously. “Just a little,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “Meeting the parents is a big deal. What if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll love you,” she said confidently. “Just be yourself. And maybe don’t mention the time you set off the fire alarm trying to cook.”

He laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Noted. No fire alarm stories.”

The door opened before they could knock, revealing Y/N’s mother, who greeted them with a warm smile. “There you are!” she exclaimed, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. Her gaze then shifted to Chris, scanning him curiously but kindly. “And this must be the famous Chris.”

Chris stepped forward, extending the bouquet. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Her mother’s smile widened as she accepted the flowers. “A gentleman. I like him already. Come in, both of you.”

Inside, Y/N’s father stood near the dining table, his arms crossed in a posture that was more analytical than intimidating. His handshake with Chris was firm, deliberate, and conveyed an unspoken message: I’m watching you.

“Good to meet you, sir,” Chris said evenly, meeting his gaze.

“Good grip,” her father replied with a small nod of approval. “That’s a start.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, pulling Chris toward the living room.

As dinner was served, the atmosphere began to relax. The conversation started light, with Chris sharing anecdotes about his work in the music industry and Y/N’s mother gushing over the stories of their recent trip. Her father, however, steered the conversation toward more serious topics.

“So, Chris,” he began, setting his fork down and fixing him with a pointed look, “what are your plans for the future?”

Chris didn’t flinch. “I’ve worked hard to build a career I’m proud of,” he said, his voice steady. “But I’ve realized that having someone to share life with makes everything more meaningful. Y/N has shown me what that could look like, and I’m committed to making sure we build something strong together.”

Y/N’s father nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Good answer.”

Her mother smiled, clearly charmed by Chris’s sincerity. “You know,” she said, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen Y/N this happy. It’s good to know you’re treating her well.”

“She makes it easy,” Chris replied, glancing at Y/N with a warm smile.

By the time dessert was served, the initial tension had dissolved into laughter and easy conversation. Y/N’s father even seemed impressed when Chris volunteered to help with the dishes.

As they stood by the sink, her father handed him a towel. “You’re a hard worker, I’ll give you that,” he said gruffly. “But relationships take more than that.”

“I understand, sir,” Chris replied, meeting his gaze. “I’m not perfect, but I’m willing to put in the effort for Y/N. She’s worth it.”

Her father gave a small nod, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

When it was time to leave, Y/N’s mother hugged her tightly at the door. “He’s wonderful,” she whispered. “You’ve found someone special.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. “I think so too.”

As they walked to the car, Chris let out a long breath. “Well, that was... intense.”

Y/N laughed, slipping her hand into his. “You did great. I think you might’ve even impressed my dad.”

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m pretty sure he was trying to bore a hole into my soul during that handshake.”

“He does that with everyone,” she assured him, grinning. “But for the record, my mom already adores you.”

Chris looked relieved, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I adore her daughter.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she leaned against him as they walked. Meeting her family was a milestone, and Chris had passed with flying colors.

The following weekend, it was Y/N’s turn to meet Chris’s family in Sydney. The flight was a whirlwind, and as they arrived at his childhood home, Y/N felt her nerves creeping in. “Do I look okay?” she asked, adjusting her dress.

Chris laughed softly and kissed her temple. “You look perfect,” he said, squeezing her hand. “They’re going to love you. Trust me.”

The door opened before they could knock, revealing Chris’s mother, who greeted them with open arms. “Welcome, Y/N,” she said warmly, pulling her into a hug. “We’ve heard so much about you. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“Thank you for having me,” Y/N replied, her nerves easing slightly at the warmth of her welcome.

Chris’s father appeared next, shaking Y/N’s hand firmly. “We’ve been looking forward to this,” he said, his tone kind but appraising. “Chris’s been singing your praises.”

“Only the good stuff, I hope,” Y/N joked, earning a chuckle.

Hannah, Chris’s younger sister, was the first to approach Y/N. At 20, she was vibrant and brimming with curiosity. “So, you’re the famous Y/N,” Hannah said with a teasing smile. “Chris talks about you nonstop.”

Y/N grinned, feeling more at ease. “I hope it’s all good things.”

“Mostly,” Hannah joked, nudging her brother. “He left out how pretty you are, though.”

Dinner was a lively affair, filled with animated conversation and heartfelt moments. Chris’s mother served a delicious spread, and the family quickly made Y/N feel at home. Chris’s father shared stories about his childhood, many of which had Y/N laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes.

“He was always the most responsible one,” his father said, a touch of pride in his voice. “But don’t let that fool you,he was just as mischievous as the rest of them.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Chris interjected, shaking his head. “I was an angel.”

“Sure you were,” Hannah teased, rolling her eyes. “Like the time you got us locked out of the house because you were busy playing your guitar on the roof?”

Y/N leaned into Chris, laughing. “I need to hear more of these stories.”

“I’ll tell you all the embarrassing ones later,” Hannah promised with a grin.

Later in the evening, Y/N and Hannah found themselves chatting on the back patio, the cool Sydney air wrapping around them. Hannah’s teasing demeanor gave way to a more serious tone. “So, how’s it really going?” she asked. “With Chris, I mean.”

Y/N took a moment to consider the question. “It’s amazing,” she admitted, “but it’s not without challenges. We’re both figuring out how to balance our lives with this new relationship.”

Hannah nodded knowingly. “He works a lot. Sometimes I worry he doesn’t slow down enough to enjoy the little things.”

“I’ve noticed that too,” Y/N said, her voice thoughtful. “But I think he’s trying. He wants this to work just as much as I do.”

“I can tell,” Hannah said with a small smile. “He’s different with you. Happier. Just... don’t let him get away with making excuses, okay?”

Y/N laughed, appreciating her candor. “Deal.”

By the end of the night, Y/N felt a genuine connection with Chris’s family. As they prepared to leave, his mother hugged Y/N tightly. “You’re exactly what he needs,” she whispered. “Thank you for making him so happy.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the words. “He makes me happy too,” she replied, glancing at Chris, who was engaged in a cheerful goodbye with his father.

As they walked back to the car, Chris looked at Y/N, his eyes filled with warmth. “So? How did I do?”

“You mean how did I do?” Y/N teased, nudging him. “Your family’s wonderful. They’re so warm and welcoming. And Hannah’s a riot.”

Chris grinned. “They loved you. I knew they would.”

Y/N smiled, slipping her hand into his. “Well, they raised a pretty great guy, so I’m not surprised.”

He stopped walking and turned to her, his expression suddenly serious. “Thank you for doing this,” he said softly. “It means a lot to me.”

“It means a lot to me too,” Y/N replied, leaning in to kiss him. Meeting his family was a milestone, and it felt like one more step toward the future they were building together.

After meeting Chris’s family, Y/N thought she had a good grasp of the important people in his life. But when Chris told her they’d be meeting his bandmates next, her stomach fluttered with a mix of excitement and nerves. These weren’t just his friends, they were his second family, his brothers in music and in life.

As they arrived at the studio, Chris gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, they’re going to love you. Just... brace yourself for the chaos. They’re not exactly subtle.”

Y/N laughed nervously. “Noted. Should I be scared?”

Chris smirked. “A little, maybe.”

The moment they stepped into the lounge area, a wave of energy hit them. The room was filled with laughter, loud voices, and snacks strewn across the table. All eyes turned to Y/N as Chris led her in.

“Guys,” Chris announced, his voice cutting through the noise, “this is Y/N.”

There was a brief pause before Felix bounded over, his face lit with excitement. “Finally! We’ve been dying to meet you!”

“Dying,” Han echoed dramatically, throwing himself onto the couch. “We thought he made you up!”

“Very funny,” Chris muttered, rolling his eyes.

Y/N smiled, instantly charmed by their playful energy. “It’s nice to meet you all. Chris talks about you guys all the time.”

“Does he now?” Lee Know said, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. “All good things, I hope.”

“Mostly,” Y/N teased, shooting Chris a playful look.

Seungmin smirked, crossing his arms. “Well, if you’re here, you must already know that he’s a bit... intense. Has he started rearranging your schedule yet?”

“Not yet,” Y/N laughed. “But he did try to reorganize my fridge the other day.”

The room erupted into laughter, Chris groaning as he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ‘reorganize’ it. I just... suggested a more efficient layout.”

“Classic Chris,” Changbin said, shaking his head. “Always optimizing.”

“Alright, Y/N,” Han said, scooting closer with a mischievous grin. “You’ve got to hear some of the juicy stuff about Chris. Like the time he tripped on stage during our debut performance.”

Chris groaned, covering his face. “Don’t—”

Han ignored him, leaning in conspiratorially. “It was this dramatic fall too, like slow motion. And he tried to play it off by doing some weird spin.”

Y/N burst out laughing, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Chris. “Is that true?”

“It was not that dramatic,” Chris protested, his cheeks flushing. “And the spin was intentional.”

“It wasn’t,” Hyunjin added with a smirk. “But we all pretended it was because we felt bad for him.”

Felix chimed in. “Or the time he accidentally called himself ‘Bang Can’ during an interview and didn’t realize it until the fans started trending it.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Chris said, throwing a cushion at Felix, who dodged it with a laugh.

“Oh, no, we’re just getting started,” Changbin said, grinning. “Y/N, did he tell you how he tried to bake us cookies once and used salt instead of sugar?”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, her laughter spilling out. “No way!”

“Way,” Seungmin said, his tone deadpan. “He tried to bribe us with free coffee to forget about it.”

Chris sighed dramatically, though he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You guys are supposed to make me look good, not ruin my image.”

“That’s our job as your bandmates,” Han quipped. “To keep you humble.”

As the afternoon went on, the teasing turned into genuine conversation. The members asked Y/N about her life, her job, and how she’d managed to put up with Chris so far.

“I’m honestly impressed,” Seungmin said. “You’ve survived this long.”

“He’s not that bad,” Y/N replied, smiling at Chris. “I think the secret is just letting him think he’s in charge.”

The room erupted in laughter, Chris shaking his head but clearly enjoying the banter.

By the end of the visit, Y/N felt like she’d been welcomed into a new family. The warmth and camaraderie between the members were undeniable, and their teasing only made her love Chris more—it was clear how much they all cared for him.

As they left the studio, Chris slipped an arm around her waist. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Not at all,” Y/N said, leaning into him. “I think I love them almost as much as I love you.”

Chris grinned, his dimples deepening. “Well, they already love you. So I guess it’s a win.”

However, as the days passed, the honeymoon glow began to dim, replaced by the realities of their demanding lives. Their packed schedules started to take a toll, and the cracks became evident one evening when Chris canceled plans for the third time in a row due to work.

Y/N, who had spent the day looking forward to their rare night together, couldn’t hold back her frustration anymore. She set her phone down with a heavy sigh, her disappointment evident. When Chris finally walked through the door, his tie loosened and fatigue written all over his face, she stood in the kitchen, her arms crossed.

“I get that your job is demanding, Chris, but I can’t keep feeling like I’m second place,” Y/N began, her voice tight with emotion. “I’m always the one making time, rearranging my schedule. It’s like... I’m the only one fighting for this.”

Chris dropped his bag by the couch and rubbed his temples. “It’s not about priorities, Y/N,” he said, his tone weary. “I’m trying to make this work, but my job,there’s so much at stake. Deadlines, responsibilities,they’re not just going to disappear because I want them to.”

“And you think I don’t have responsibilities?” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “We both have demanding lives, Chris. But relationships take effort. I can’t be the only one putting us first.”

The room went silent for a moment, the weight of their words hanging heavily in the air. Chris let out a long breath and walked closer, leaning against the counter. “You’re right,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been so caught up in trying to stay afloat at work that I didn’t realize how much I’ve been neglecting us.”

Y/N softened slightly at his admission but still felt the sting of being sidelined. “I just... I need to know that we’re on the same team here,” she said, her voice trembling. “That no matter how busy life gets, we’re making time for us.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I hear you,” he said. “And I hate that I’ve made you feel this way. What can we do to fix it? I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing this alone.”

Her arms uncrossed as she leaned against the counter across from him. “We need to make changes. Let’s set aside one night a week, no matter what’s going on, just for us. No work, no distractions,just time together. And if you have to cancel something, I need you to communicate better. Let me know what’s happening instead of me waiting around.”

Chris nodded earnestly. “Okay. I can do that. And I’ll try to plan better so I’m not always last-minute scrambling.”

They continued talking late into the night, unpacking their frustrations and figuring out how to navigate their busy lives together. By the time they were done, the tension had eased, and a sense of understanding filled the room.

“I’m not perfect,” Chris said softly, taking her hand. “But I want this to work. I want us to work.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her gaze steady. “Me too,” she said with a small smile. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

For the first time in weeks, they felt like they were on the same page, ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

Five:

As the wedding date approached, Y/N and Chris dove into preparations. The process was both exciting and overwhelming, filled with appointments, decisions, and moments of unexpected joy.

One sunny afternoon, they visited a tailor for Chris’s suit. Chris stepped onto the platform, looking slightly out of his element as the tailor measured his shoulders and chest.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, glancing nervously at Y/N.

She smiled, stepping closer to adjust the fabric draped over his arm. “That’s what I’m here for,” she teased. “And don’t worry, you’re a natural. Look at you, already looking like a movie star.”

Chris chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” she said, tilting her head as she studied him. “Let’s go with the navy suit. It makes your eyes stand out, and it’s classic but modern,just like you.”

“You’re good at this,” Chris said, reaching for her hand. “Remind me to take you shopping every time I need a new outfit.”

“Deal,” Y/N replied with a laugh.

Later, Y/N went dress shopping with her mother, Chris’s mother, Hannah, Sarah, and Amelia. The boutique buzzed with excitement as the women sifted through racks of gowns, their voices mingling in a symphony of opinions and laughter.

“What about this one?” Hannah asked, holding up a dress with a plunging neckline.

Y/N’s mother raised an eyebrow. “It’s beautiful, but maybe not for the ceremony.”

“I’ll save it for the honeymoon,” Y/N joked, making everyone burst into laughter.

When Y/N emerged from the dressing room in a lace gown with a flowing train, the room fell silent. The intricate details of the dress caught the light, and the soft fabric seemed to mold perfectly to her figure.

“You look stunning,” Hannah whispered, her eyes wide with admiration.

Chris’s mother clasped her hands to her chest, tears welling up. “Absolutely breathtaking,” she said softly.

Y/N turned to face the mirror, her own reflection taking her breath away. Her mother stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “This is the one, isn’t it?”

Y/N blinked back tears, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is the one.”

Hannah enveloped her in a tight hug. “Chris is going to lose his mind when he sees you,” she said, her voice full of affection.

“He’d better,” Y/N replied with a watery laugh. “Otherwise, I’ll make him wear this dress.”

The room erupted in laughter again, and the boutique became a place of shared joy and anticipation. By the end of the day, Y/N felt more connected than ever to the people around her, and the dream of her wedding felt more real than ever.

As they left the boutique, Chris’s mother squeezed Y/N’s hand. “You’re going to make a beautiful bride,” she said warmly. “But more importantly, you’re going to make Chris very happy.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full. “Thank you. That means so much.”

The preparations were far from over, but in moments like these, Y/N realized that it wasn’t just about the wedding day,it was about the love and connections they were building along the way.

The week before the wedding, the excitement reached a fever pitch as Y/N and Chris celebrated their bachelor and bachelorette parties. It was a chance to unwind, laugh, and revel in the company of their closest friends before stepping into their new chapter.

Y/N’s party, orchestrated with flair by Amelia, was a beach-themed soirée that felt like a scene straight out of a romantic movie. The women gathered at an elegant beachfront venue, complete with twinkling fairy lights, tiki torches, and a soft ocean breeze. The air was filled with laughter, music, and the scent of tropical flowers.

As they sipped colorful cocktails and nibbled on gourmet hors d’oeuvres, Amelia clinked her glass to gather attention. “Ladies,” she began with a mischievous grin, “tonight, we celebrate our girl Y/N, who somehow managed to meet her soulmate without the usual dating disasters. Let’s make this a night she’ll never forget!”

The group erupted into cheers, raising their glasses high.

“Speech, speech!” someone called out, nudging Y/N.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Not a chance. You’re not getting me to cry before the big day!”

Amelia smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. That’s my job during the toast later.”

The night kicked off with an impromptu karaoke session. Y/N and Sarah took the stage for a hilariously off-key rendition of their favorite throwback hit, complete with dramatic dance moves.

“Whose idea was this?” Y/N panted, doubling over with laughter as the group roared.

“Yours,” Sarah shot back, grinning. “And you’re welcome!”

Later, as the evening mellowed into a series of heartfelt toasts, Amelia took center stage. “Y/N, you’ve always been the kind of friend who lights up a room just by walking in. Watching you and Chris together is like witnessing a fairy tale come to life. You deserve every bit of happiness coming your way. Here’s to you, my beautiful friend.”

Y/N dabbed at her eyes with a napkin, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, Amelia. And thank all of you for being here tonight. You’ve made this whole journey so special.”

Amelia leaned over, whispering with a teasing smile, “So, are you ready to trade in freedom for married bliss? Any second thoughts?”

“Not even for a second,” Y/N replied with a grin. “He’s my person. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The night wrapped up with the women dancing barefoot on the sand, cocktails in hand, under the glow of the stars. At one point, Sarah raised her glass again. “To Y/N, the most radiant bride-to-be. Chris better know how lucky he is!”

“Oh, he knows,” Y/N replied, laughing, her cheeks glowing from the drinks and joy of the night.

Meanwhile, Chris’s bachelor party had a different vibe,a relaxed yet spirited gathering at a swanky rooftop bar overlooking the city skyline. Mason, took on the unofficial role of emcee, ensuring the night was filled with camaraderie, laughter, and just a touch of chaos.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Mason began, raising his beer, “a toast to Chris,the man who found love without having to swipe left or right a hundred times. Here’s hoping he doesn’t screw it up now!”

Laughter rippled through the group as Chris rolled his eyes, smirking. “Wow, Mason, your faith in me is truly overwhelming.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Mason replied with mock seriousness. “I just know your track record with grand gestures.”

The banter gave way to more heartfelt moments as Mason added, “In all seriousness, Y/N’s an incredible woman, and you’re lucky to have her. Here’s to a lifetime of happiness and no more karaoke attempts.”

Chris chuckled, raising his glass. “I’ll take that. And for the record, no karaoke at the wedding.”

The night unfolded with rounds of pool, dart games, and nostalgic stories about Chris’s less-than-graceful younger days.

“Do you guys remember the time Chris tried to impress a girl by quoting poetry and ended up reciting the Pledge of Allegiance instead?” one friend teased, causing the group to erupt in laughter.

Chris groaned, shaking his head. “It was dark! I panicked!”

As the laughter settled, Chris’s younger brother pulled him aside. “You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, his tone quiet but sincere.

Chris didn’t hesitate. “I’ve never been more ready for anything. Y/N’s everything I’ve ever wanted. She’s my future.”

Later, as the group stood against the backdrop of twinkling city lights, Mason clapped Chris on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky guy, mate. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t,” Chris replied with a smile. “And thanks for being here tonight. It means everything.”

As both parties wound down, Y/N and Chris found a quiet moment to exchange messages.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” they texted each other simultaneously.

The celebrations left them brimming with love and excitement, their hearts full as they looked forward to their future together. Surrounded by friends and laughter, they knew the best was yet to come.

Six:

The wedding day dawned with a sense of magic in the air. Y/N and Chris arrived at the venue separately, each in a flurry of excitement and nerves. The grand estate, with its sprawling gardens and elegant architecture, was the perfect backdrop for their love story’s most significant chapter.

Chris’s dressing room buzzed with energy as his groomsmen,his Stray Kids bandmates,filled the space with their usual blend of camaraderie, teasing, and chaos. Dressed in sleek suits, they were each focused on something different: Hyunjin fiddled with his hair in the mirror, Han was pretending to practice a wedding march, and Felix was intently tying Chris’s bowtie.

“Hold still, mate,” Felix said, a bit exasperated. “I can’t pin this lapel flower on if you keep fidgeting.”

Chris sighed but stood still, glancing nervously at the clock. “I’m not fidgeting; I’m preparing. This is a big day.”

Seungmin smirked, crossing his arms. “Big day? That’s the understatement of the year. Never thought I’d see the day our old man settled down.”

“Seriously,” Changbin chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “You’re always buried in your music projects, Chris. We figured you’d just marry your laptop.”

“Hey!” Chris protested, laughing. “I can multitask, okay? And for the record, I prioritize Y/N over my laptop.”

“Wow,” Han said dramatically, clutching his chest. “True love really does exist.”

Hyunjin turned from the mirror, shaking his head with mock solemnity. “Let’s be real. None of us expected Chris to even make it past the pods stage. Remember how awkward he was during the first few days?”

“Awkward?” Chris shot back, feigning offense. “I was charming.”

“Yeah,” Lee Know quipped, sitting on the edge of the couch. “Charmingly awkward. But hey, it worked, so I guess we’ll give you that.”

Felix finished pinning the flower and stepped back to admire his work. “There. Perfect. You actually look decent for once.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Lix,” Chris said dryly, adjusting his jacket.

Jeongin, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you look nervous, hyung. What’s up with that?”

Chris hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not nerves, exactly. It’s just... Y/N’s everything to me. I want today to be perfect for her.”

The room fell quiet for a moment, the teasing giving way to genuine camaraderie.

Changbin clapped him on the back. “You’ve got this, Chris. She’s lucky to have you, and honestly, you’re lucky to have her. You’re both going to kill it out there.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin added with a sly grin. “Even if she’s technically marrying an overworking workaholic.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Chris said, rolling his eyes but smiling. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be hyping me up, not roasting me?”

Hyunjin smirked. “We roast because we care.”

“True,” Han said, throwing an arm around Chris’s shoulders. “But seriously, hyung, we’re proud of you. And you’d better believe we’re all going to cry when you say your vows.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lee Know said, though his smirk suggested otherwise.

Chris shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked around at his bandmates. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot.”

“Alright, enough with the sappy stuff,” Felix declared, grabbing a small box from the table. “Time to make sure you don’t trip over your own feet. Who’s got the checklist for the ceremony?”

“Not me,” Han said quickly, stepping back. “Last time I had a checklist, we ended up in the wrong city.”

“That’s a story for another day,” Chris muttered, earning a round of laughter from the group.

As the banter continued, the nerves that had been bubbling inside Chris began to fade. Surrounded by his brothers, he felt ready to take the next step, straight down the aisle to the love of his life.

The bridal suite was a haven of calm amidst the bustling activity outside. Y/N sat in front of a full-length mirror, watching as the hairstylist expertly pinned her hair into an elegant updo. The makeup artist worked her magic, enhancing Y/N’s natural beauty with soft, glowing tones. The gentle hum of a love ballad played in the background, adding to the serene atmosphere.

Hannah lounged on the plush chaise nearby, scrolling through her phone. “Y/N, I swear, this venue is out of a fairy tale. The gardens, the lights, the view,Chris is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

Y/N smiled faintly, but her fingers fidgeted in her lap. “I hope so. I’m starting to feel the nerves kicking in. What if I trip? Or cry so much during the vows that I can’t even speak?”

Hannah put her phone down and leaned forward, her tone soothing. “First of all, if you trip, we’ll all pretend it’s a part of the choreography. And if you cry, it’ll only make the vows more beautiful. You’ve got this, Y/N. You and Chris are meant for this.”

Before Y/N could respond, the door opened, and Chris’s mother and Y/N’s mother walked in, their faces glowing with pride and emotion.

“Sweetheart,” Y/N’s mother said, her voice soft as she approached, “you look absolutely breathtaking.” She bent down, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I can’t believe my little girl is getting married today.”

Chris’s mother took Y/N’s hand gently, her eyes misty. “Y/N, from the moment Chris told us about you, we could see how much he loved you. You’ve brought out a happiness in him that we hadn’t seen in years. Thank you for loving him so completely.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you both for being here, for everything. And for raising such an incredible man. He’s... everything to me.”

The mothers shared a knowing smile, their hands resting on Y/N’s shoulders as if to steady her.

Hannah broke the tender silence with a playful grin. “Alright, ladies, no more making the bride cry before the ceremony! We need her makeup intact.”

The makeup artist laughed. “Yes, please. I worked hard on this masterpiece.”

The stylist stepped back, admiring her work. “You’re ready, Y/N. Absolutely stunning.”

Y/N stood, smoothing her dress with trembling hands. She turned to the mirror and took a deep breath, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s do this.”

The ceremony began with the hosts of Love is Blind standing in front of the gathered crowd, their smiles warm and welcoming. The venue buzzed with excitement as the music faded and the hosts took their places.

Chris stood at the altar, his hands clasped tightly in front of him as he tried to steady his racing heart. His groomsmen stood beside him, offering quiet support. Han leaned over and whispered, “Breathe, hyung. You don’t want to pass out before she even gets here.”

Chris shot him a mock glare but chuckled under his breath. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Welcome, everyone,” the first host began, her voice resonating with emotion, “to what we can only describe as the culmination of a journey that started with blind faith and an open heart.”

Her co-host nodded, adding, “We’ve all been witness to a remarkable story, one that began in the pods,a place where appearances didn’t matter, and voices carried the weight of emotions. Chris and Y/N were strangers when they first sat down, separated by a wall, and yet, through vulnerability and trust, they built something extraordinary.”

The crowd murmured in appreciation, many glancing at the altar where Chris stood, his eyes locked on the aisle in anticipation.

“Chris and Y/N’s connection was immediate,” the first host continued. “They spent hours in the pods, sharing their hopes, dreams, and even their fears. And while they couldn’t see each other, they were seeing something far more important,each other’s hearts.”

Her co-host smiled. “We watched as their relationship blossomed during the retreat, where they finally saw each other for the first time. And let me tell you, when Chris saw Y/N, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.”

The crowd chuckled, and even Chris smiled, momentarily breaking his nervous focus.

“They’ve spent the past weeks building on that foundation,” the first host added. “Navigating the challenges of blending two lives, getting to know each other’s families, and figuring out what it means to truly say, ‘I choose you.’”

“And today,” the co-host said, his voice brimming with excitement, “they’re here to make the ultimate choice,to stand before all of you, their friends and family, and promise to spend their lives together.”

The first host turned toward Chris, addressing the audience but clearly speaking to him as well. “This journey hasn’t been easy,it never is. Love is messy, imperfect, and requires work. But Chris and Y/N have shown us that when two people commit to seeing each other beyond the surface, love can truly conquer all.”

“And now,” her co-host said, gesturing to the aisle as the music swelled, “it’s time to witness the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Ladies and gentlemen, here comes the bride.”

The sound of the music shifted, and every head turned as Y/N appeared at the end of the aisle, arm in arm with her father. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by applause and cheers. Chris’s breath caught in his throat as he took her in,radiant, confident, and every bit the woman he had fallen in love with.

Y/N’s father leaned in as they walked. “You look beautiful, sweetheart. This is your moment. Let’s get you to your future.”

When they reached the altar, her father placed her hand in Chris’s, his voice steady but emotional. “Take care of her, Chris. She’s our world.”

“I promise,” Chris said sincerely, his voice firm with conviction.

The officiant began the ceremony, guiding the couple through the traditional moments with grace and a touch of humor. When it was time for the vows, Y/N took a deep breath and began.

“First of all, I would like to thank your parents for giving birth to such a sweet and kind-hearted son. Christopher, from the moment I heard your voice, I felt a connection I couldn’t explain. You’ve shown me patience, kindness, and love in ways I never thought possible. I promise to support your dreams, cherish our laughter, and stand by you, no matter what life throws our way. Today, I choose you, and I’ll keep choosing you every day.”

Chris’s eyes glistened as he held her hands tightly, his voice soft but steady as he began his vows.

“Y/N, you are my best friend, my partner, my everything. From the moment I met you, even without seeing your face, I knew my life would never be the same. You make me a better man, and I promise to love you fiercely, to listen, to laugh, and to always have your back. You’re my greatest adventure, and I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

The officiant smiled warmly, her voice clear and celebratory. “Y/N and Christopher, do you take each other as husband and wife, to love, honor, and cherish, for all the days of your lives?”

“I do,” they said in unison, their voices filled with love.

“You may kiss your bride,” the officiant declared.

Chris leaned in, capturing Y/N in a kiss that sealed their promises. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, the air alive with celebration.

As the newlyweds made their way back down the aisle, hand in hand, the guests erupted into cheers and applause. Petals floated through the air, a cascade of color and joy that mirrored the happiness on Y/N and Chris’s faces. Chris glanced at Y/N, his smile radiant, and whispered, “We did it.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes sparkling. “We really did.”

The reception space was a masterpiece of elegance and charm. Tables adorned with lush floral arrangements and twinkling candles filled the room, and the air was filled with the soft hum of music and excited chatter. As Y/N and Chris entered, the DJ announced them with enthusiasm, “Please welcome, for the first time as husband and wife, Y/N and Chris!”

The crowd erupted into cheers once again as the couple walked in, waving to their loved ones. Chris leaned close to Y/N, his voice low. “You ready for the spotlight?”

“With you? Always,” Y/N replied, her cheeks glowing with happiness.

The couple took their seats at the beautifully decorated sweetheart table, and the celebration began. Plates clinked, glasses were filled, and laughter echoed throughout the room.

Chris’s bandmates,his groomsmen,were the first to take the mic for their toast. Felix, acting as spokesperson, stood up, raising his glass with a grin.

“Well,” he began, glancing at Chris, “I think I speak for all of us when I say we never thought we’d see this day. Chris, the guy who spends more time in the studio than sleeping, is now a married man. Honestly, we were all starting to think he’d marry a mixing board.”

The room burst into laughter, and Chris shook his head, grinning. “Thanks, Lix. Appreciate the support.”

Felix continued, his tone softening. “In all seriousness, we’ve watched you grow, not just as a leader and musician but as a person. Y/N, you’ve brought out a side of him that we’ve always known was there,a side that’s kind, patient, and full of love. We’re so happy you found each other. To Chris and Y/N,may your life together be as harmonious as our music... and less chaotic!”

The bandmates raised their glasses, and the room joined in, the toast met with cheers and applause.

Next, Y/N’s father took the mic. He stood tall, his voice warm as he addressed the crowd.

“When Y/N was a little girl, she used to dream big,” he began. “She’d tell me stories about castles, princes, and grand adventures. And now, looking at her and Chris, I realize she’s found her own kind of fairy tale,one rooted in love, respect, and partnership.”

He paused, his voice catching slightly. “I remember one time when Y/N was about seven. She told me she was going to marry someone who made her laugh every day. Chris, I can see by the way she looks at you that you’ve done just that. Thank you for loving her as she deserves to be loved.”

The room was silent, save for the sniffles of a few guests. Y/N wiped a tear from her cheek, smiling up at her father.

“To my daughter and her husband,” her father concluded, raising his glass. “May your journey together be filled with laughter, love, and the kind of happiness that makes life truly magical.”

The guests raised their glasses, and Y/N hugged her father tightly as the crowd erupted into applause once more.

The lights dimmed, and a soft spotlight illuminated the dance floor. Chris extended his hand to Y/N. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Bahng?”

“You may, Mr. Bahng” she replied with a giggle, taking his hand.

The music began,a slow, romantic melody that seemed to capture their entire journey in its notes. They swayed together, eyes locked, as the world around them faded away.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” Chris murmured.

“Only about twenty times,” Y/N teased, her smile wide.

“Well, it’s worth repeating,” he said, his voice tender.

The crowd watched, enraptured, as the couple shared their first dance. Toward the end, Chris twirled Y/N, eliciting cheers and applause from their guests.

After the first dance, the party kicked into full gear. The DJ played a mix of classics and modern hits, and the dance floor quickly filled with guests of all ages. Chris’s bandmates led a lively routine that had everyone laughing and clapping, while Y/N’s friends organized a dance-off that became a highlight of the night.

At one point, Chris pulled Y/N aside, away from the crowd, to share a quiet moment. “You having fun?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“The best,” she said, leaning into him. “I still can’t believe this is real.”

“Believe it,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Because this is just the beginning.”

The couple’s wedding cake was a masterpiece,five tiers of decadent flavors decorated with intricate floral designs. As they cut the cake, Chris playfully smudged a bit of frosting on Y/N’s nose, earning laughter from the crowd.

“You’re going to pay for that,” Y/N warned, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she dabbed frosting on his cheek in retaliation.

The night ended with a grand farewell. Guests lined up with sparklers, creating a glowing pathway for the newlyweds. As Y/N and Chris walked through, hand in hand, their faces lit with joy, the crowd cheered them on.

“Ready to start forever?” Chris asked as they reached the waiting car.

“More than ready,” Y/N replied, her smile soft and full of love.

As the car drove away, the guests waved, their cheers fading into the night. The celebration had been everything they dreamed of and more, marking the start of a beautiful forever.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids bang chan fluff #skz bang chan fluff #skz fics #kpop fics #love is blind #bangchan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan

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motorsportbarbie13 · 7 hours ago

Text

A Package Deal - Part 5

In which big things happen at Silverstone

Warnings: nothing but fluff, as per usual Pairing: Lando Norris x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 2.8k words

A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 Master List Don't miss my new project: Track Limits, the fully original sports romance set in the cut-throat world of Formula 1 (first part will be posted tomorrow, January 6th)

yourusername (private) posted

102 likes liked by landonorris, BFFSarah, stellasgrandpa, and others yourusername home race, best race BFFSarah cuties stellasgrandpa so much fun today with you. that man of yours is a keeper. >>>yourusername ❤️ love you dad >>>landonorris thanks for keeping my girls company today, sir! glad you had fun, would love to have you & stella at more races this year >>>BFFSarah 'my girls' i die

"Momma, it's hot." Stella whines, tugging on your hand as you walk towards the McLaren hospitality suite Sunday morning.

"Baby, I know. Hospitality has aircon though, so let's get inside. Lando's there too and he wants to see you before he gets into the car."

Behind you, your dad and step mom follow along. It's the British Grand Prix weekend and instead of working this race, you're here as Lando's personal guest, along with your family. It's surreal, attending the race but not working. You felt insanely out of place in hospitality in your jeans and black tank top instead of your papaya and black team kit.

Stella scampers off ahead of you, heading straight to the giant orange building that sits behind the garages at Silverstone. She's been with you all weekend, having wanted to watch Lando during all three practice sessions and qualifying. It was her first time in the paddock this weekend and as you watched her take to the atmosphere like a fish you water, you were worried you'd never be able to get her away from here. There was something magical in it though, watching your baby come alive and fall in love with something for the first time in their life.

The glass sliding doors woosh open for you and Stella and you're rewarded with a wash of cool air instantly giving you relief from the hot British summer outside. The main room of the suite is a hub of activity. Several meetings going on all at once, employees coming and going, meals being served for guests. It was all a bit overwhelming but you'd been to a few races already this season and it was beginning to feel routine for you.

You check your phone and see that Lando returned your text, informing you he was just in his drivers room up on the second floor.

"Stella, Lando is up on the second floor in his room. Knock before you go in." You tell your daughter, knowing she's going to want to run to see your boyfriend as soon as she can. You watch as she runs away before turning back to your dad and step mom. "She's been hanging out there all weekend. She says it's her favorite place in the world."

Your dad looks a little surprised, "I don't think I've ever seen Stella that comfortable in a crowd or without one of us." He marvels.

You smile, having noticed the same thing. You follow after Stella as you respond to your dad. "She's been this little social butterfly all weekend, it's like this place is magic for her. She's barely left Lando's side."

Lando and Stella had developed such a special relationship over the last seven months and even though it was normal to you now, sometimes you still had to stop and wonder if this was really real. He picked her up from school on such a regular basis that Ms. Rose in the front office had stopped asking him for ID and stopped calling you to make sure he had permission to take Stella. There had been several times that Stella had made an appearance on one of Max F's streams while Lando raced online with him. Since Lando rarely streamed with video on, you had allowed Stella to 'help' Lando drive when her permitted it, which was whenever Stella asked. Because your little girl had your boyfriend wrapped around her little finger. For a little girl that had always been shy around men other than her own grandpa, Stella blossomed when Lando and her grew closer.

By the time you reach the top of the stairs, you can see that the door to Lando's room is thrown wide open and you just hope Stella had remembered to knock before barging in. You can hear her chatter float out of the door and when you round the corner, Stella is sat next to Lando on the leather couch that sits underneath the window.

“And then Momma made you walk fifteen miles in a heat wave just to see me?” Lando exclaims, barely covering up a laugh at Stella’s dramatics.

“Stella Rose!” You laugh, stopping in your tracks and propping your hands on your hips. “We walked across the track through the air conditioned tunnel from the hotel!”

“Gee, I wonder where she gets her dramatic streak from.” Mutters your dad from behind.

You spin, sound of indignation flying from your lips while everyone else dissolves into laughter.

“Ok, Lan and Stella already gang up on me enough, I can’t have you two choosing their side too!” You say though your own laughter.

Stella continues to chatter away as the four adults in the room listen raptly. This goes on for a while before a soft knock at the door interrupts a story Stella is telling about taking Rosco for a walk yesterday after quali. Everyone turns and you're very surprised to see Andrea standing in the doorway.

"I thought I'd find you here." The Team Principle says, smile playing on his lips. Since you'd been traveling a bit with the team and deployed your tire monitoring program full time a few races ago, Andrea and you had gotten a bit closer. You liked the man, with his gently demeanor and soft spot for your boyfriend.

"Hi Andrea!" Stella chirps from where she sits on Lando's lap. The two had met Friday morning and Stella had taken an immediate liking to the man.

"Hi Ms. Stella, how are you this morning?"

"Good, thank you!" Stella smiles and then goes back to chattering at Lando.

Seemingly dismissed by your daughter, Andrea chuckles and turns back to you. "I know you're not working today but can I steal you for a moment? It won't take long, I just want to chat about something."

Something twists in your stomach, anxiety rising to the surface. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lando's ears perk up as he continues to listen to Stella talk. He keeps one eye on your daughter but his attention is clearly on you. "Oh, of course. Everything okay?" You can't possibly think of anything you'd left unfinished before leaving for the weekend on Thursday but you could have missed something.,

"Yes yes! Nothing to worry about. Just want to talk to you about something."

Your dad shoos you towards the door, telling you they'll watch Stella while you're busy. Nodding, you turn and follow Andrea out of Lando's room down the hall to where his office is. Anxiety settles in the pit of your stomach despite being assured that nothing is wrong.

Once in his office, Andrea shuts the door behind you and motions for you to sit down. The office is small, just enough room for a small desk and a few chairs. Andrea doesn't spend much time in here on race weekends but it's nice for him to have a quiet place to get away during these hectic days.

"Thank you for taking a few moments. Like I said, I know you're here as Lando's guest and not working but I wanted to get your thoughts on something Zak and I have been discussing for quite some time."

You nod, feeling a little better. It wasn't totally out of the ordinary that Andrea or one of the race engineers needs you randomly on a weekend, despite the program basically running itself now. "Of course, how can I help?"

Andrea tents his fingers in front of his face, resting his elbows on the desk in front of him. "Zak and I have been really impressed by you this season, that program you wrote has been essential in all of our finishes and wins so far."

You flush under the praise. "Thank you."

Andrea nods, "I don't know if you're aware but there's an opening on the strategy team." Your heart stops in your chest. You had heard rumors of one of the race strategists leaving the team to go over to Aston Martin a few weeks ago, but it had never been confirmed by the team anywhere publicly. "Zak and I have been taking our time looking for the replacement and we wanted to see if you'd be interested in the position. You have the data gathering and analysis skills down and that program you developed shows you know how to interpret the data in a way that is helpful to the team. We think you'd be an amazing asset to the strategy team."

For a few moments, you're totally speechless. You only have an undergraduate degree in computer science and data analytics, generally the strategists have degrees in engineering or aerodynamics, neither of which you have. "I...I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, Andrea."

"Then say you'll take the job." He says, grin spreading across his face. "There will be some more travel than your doing right now, but both Zak and I are willing to work with you on the schedule and make sure Stella is taken care of." He adds and you wonder if he was reading your mind in the moment because that was going to be your first question.

"Can I think about it? Run it by my dad and Stella's nanny?" You desperatly want to say yes, a spot on the strategy team something you'd wanted for a long time but had never thought you'd be able to manage.

"Of course! I don't expect an answer right away. Will you be in the office on Tuesday?"

"Yes, I was planning on it."

"Perfect. I'll have Zak's assistant put some time on your calendar for the three of us to sit down and discuss. Sound good?"

You nod, slightly overwhlemed at the decision you now have to make. Andrea has to get to the garage then so you wish him good today and slowly make your way back over to Lando's room.

The room is quiet when you wander in, eyes a bit glazed over from shock as the offer that Andrea just made you begins to sink in.

"Everything okay?" Lando's tone is laced with concern, drawing you out of your own world. He rises before taking your hands in his own. "Baby, you're shaking. What happened?"

"They want me to join the strategy team." You whisper weakly, eyes darting from the floor up to meet Lando's pretty greenish blue ones that you love so much.

"What? Babe! That's huge! I'm so proud of you!"

"I haven't said yes yet."

Lando leads you over to the couch and for the first time since you walked into his room you notice the quiet. "Where's Stella?" You ask as you sit down next to Lando who draws you close into his side.

"Your dad and stepmom took her to get some lunch and ice cream downstairs. Now, why haven't you accepted the offer yet, love? You talk all the time about how you wanted to make the move to doing more strategy and less analysis."

"It's a lot of travel, probably half the races instead of what I've been doing. I can't leave Stella that often."

Lando shakes his head, "You can't let that stop you, this is such an amazing opportunity." Lando knew that if he didn't help talk you into this, you'd pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity. "She adores Tilly and her and your dad have been doing so well too." Tilly was the nanny you had hired back in May after Miami and the two got along so well while you were traveling, sometimes you wondered if Stella loved her more than she loved you.

"Stella is getting older, she understands that you need to travel for work now." Lando continues, tangling your fingers up with his and giving them a squeeze. "She'll be fine, and she'll get to see her mom going out and working hard and living her dreams. When you're not working races and Stella isn't in school, you guys can travel with me. We can make this work, my love, I promise. You don't have to juggle this all alone anymore."

Tears sting at the back of your eyes at your boyfriend's encouragement. As you had walked back from Andrea's office you had been fully prepared to turn down the promotion, not feeling like you could manage the increase in travel and responsibilities but with Lando's encouragement, you were second guessing your decision already. "You think we could handle it?"

"Baby, there's not doubt in my mind that the three of us can handle whatever this crazy job throws at us." Lando pulls you further into his side, arm slipping around your shoulder as he leans in. He dusts a quick kiss on your lips before pressing another one to your temple. "We're a package deal now, remember? It'll all work out."

You draw in a deep breath before nodding, "Okay. Let's do it then."

"That's my girl." He praises, kissing you again as you sink further into his warmth.

"Momma! Lando won! Lando won the race!" Stella shouts over the pandemonium of the garage. Tears stream down your face as you watch your boyfriend pull into parc ferme after winning his home race, Oscar just behind him in P2. It had been a stressful race, the teammates had traded the lead a few times but in the end, Lando had the superior race pace and had pulled away from Oscar during the last quarter of the race.

It was the first time McLaren had won their home race in ages and everyone in the garage was emotional. The team spills out of the garage, racing over to the barriers to greet the two McLaren drivers. You slowly follow behind, Stella's hand firmly grasped in yours as you lead her over to watch Lando get out of the car.

The moment he's out and his helmet is off, Lando is looking for you. It wasn't his first win of the season but it was the first with you and Stella there to see him win. His entire family was here since it was his home race and the satisfaction and pride that swelled in his chest was almost too much to handle. He spots you at the back of the crowd and he knows you're back there because you don't want to wade deep into the crowd with Stella.

Not wanting to wait until after the race to see you, Lando rounds the barriers making a beeline straight for you. Behind him, a pair of camera's follow up and you're acutely aware of the fact you're about to be on live TV.

"There's my girls!" Lando shouts before scooping up Stella in his arms. "The prettiest good luck charms on the grid." He murmurs in your ear as he cuddles Stella on his other side. "I'm so fucking lucky."

You laugh into his neck, suddenly shy at the fact that your face is being shown on the huge video screens all over the track. Lando draws back before kissing you full on the mouth, much to Stella's dismay.

"Gross!" Stella squeals as she wiggles out of his arms, allowing Lando to fully take you in his arms now, giving you the biggest bear hug he can.

"I'm so proud of you." You sob, so happy you got to see him win his home race. You knew how much this meant to him and being able to witness in person with Stella made it that much more meaningful.

"I love you." Lando murmurs before letting you go. "I have post race stuff to do, media and all that but I'll meet you back in the drivers room as soon as I can, okay?"

You nod as you squeeze his hand. Stella launches herself into Lando's arms once again and he spins her around, head tipped back on a laugh. The cameras capture it all and if you had been watching it on TV, you would have heard every commentator losing their minds at how cute Lando's little family is.

Lando eventually puts Stella down after he hears Victor calling his name. There is so much to do after a win, especially one as big as winning his home race, but he doesn't want to leave you or Stella quite yet. Lando steals one last kiss from you, drops a kiss onto the top of Stella's head and finally jogs away, knowing he needs to get things taken care of after the win.

Hours later, after all the champagne is washed off and Stella is tucked into bed in the second bedroom of your suite for the weekend, Lando and you tumble into bed together, celebrating one of his biggest wins of the year in the best way possible.

landonorris posted:

508,903 likes liked by yourusername, mclaren, BFFsarah, and others landonorris home race, best race. great race this weekend with my girls here for good luck. yourusername ❤️ so proud of you my love! >>>user992 couple goals fr >>>user334 how does it feel to be god's favorite?! user0299 oh my GODDDD Lando running over to her and Stella after the race and calling them his girls on live tv??? Straight out of a Taylor Swift song. >>>user1221 god, I've seen what you've done for others

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#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mclaren #ln4 #lando norris x singlemom!reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #ln4 x reader #lando norris x female reader

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yaut-jaknowit · 2 days ago

Note

Morally ambiguous corpo scientist gets transfered to a "exciting new project" only to find it's a Predator breeding program.

Breeding Program

Character: T'a'yta (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: I'M WARNING YOU NOW, I WENT FERAL BADLY. Rape/Non con contents. Sex pollen, SMUT, very rough sex, knotting, breeding. Read at your own risk, seriously.

Word Count: 3159

Summary: As a scientist, the ability to move up in the world was amazing. To surpass people you thought were the top dogs in your program and placed in a new section. A new program. You hadn't been briefed but the pay was phenomena. Nothing to complain about there. You met up with Amelia, the head of the program, at the facility and get a tour. At the end, she takes you down a hallway, opens a door to a pitch black room. Then shoves you in.

Author Note: I'm warning you all. This seriously might be the darkest thing I've ever wrote. I don't know why my brain went this route, but it did. Please, I'm warning you. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Masterlist

Ao3

After the years to finally work underneath this team of scientist, you were astonished to find they had referred you higher up the chain. To a new exciting project that could change the world. The opening letter they gave you easily hyped you up. Before you knew it, you were accepting the new position. Your items were going to be transferred over at a later date.

The new team wanted to meet you so bad. That’s what they told you. That’s what you believed. You found yourself at the new building that had just been finished. This was nerve racking but exciting at the same time. All new equipment and gear to test out. State of the art equipment has been entrusted to you. Out of all the people, you’ve been promoted to such a position. This was destiny!

Smiles greeted you when you first walked through the doors. The team lead was here in person to greet you the moment you stepped onto the new grounds.

Amelia says your name with a soft smile that complimented her features. “It’s so good to see you! We’ve been waiting for you to finally arrive. I hope the travel wasn’t bad?” She guides you towards the elevator and presses the button. The doors open and welcome you aboard. You step in after Amelia, nearly bouncing off of the ground with each step. A dream becoming reality.

“No,” you shake your head. “It wasn’t bad. The flight was beautiful though. Being that high up.” The memory of all the gorgeous clouds that covered the sky. Then, seeing as far as the eye could see. All of the land that went on and on. You loved it. “I’m so excited to be here too. It’s been my dream to work in an environment like this. When do I get to meet the rest of the team?”

There weren’t much for details about the project besides how cool it would be for you to join the team. Of course, you couldn’t say no. Not when a job like this could be the last one you would ever need. Plus, the pay was… wow. Amazing!

The elevator’s doors slid open to reveal a long hallway with black tile floors and grey walls. Little décor filled the empty space. You didn’t mind it. The place was still new. Maybe they hadn’t gotten around to fully furnishing the space.

Both of you walked out. Amelia laughed. “Oh, they’re around. They just didn’t want to crowd you and overwhelm you on your introduction day. Today is just meant to show you around, learn the space before the people, you know?” You nodded along, agreeing with everything she said. You already felt on the verge of being overwhelmed with a different workspace and people.

“Aw, alright. If you can, tell them I can’t wait to meet them, please?” you asked of her. All you wanted to do was impress the team more than you already have. To show them that you have a passion for science. It’s your livelihood.

“I sure can do that for you.” Amelia took the closet right down the hallway from the elevator. Her steps were precise with black two-inch heels. “They’ll be happy to know you’re thinking about them.”

A long, rectangular glass window was built into the wall. Amelia stops and motions towards the glass. Where you see tables of equipment just sitting there, ready for use. They are brand new, still shiny and lacking even fingerprints. Your eyes sparkle, hands twitching desperate to touch everything. But, you tamper down the feeling.

“This is amazing already, Amelia. I can’t wait to see the rest of the building.” When she smiles at you again, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “When will be my first day? I hadn’t gotten any emails about it.” You were concerned that maybe something as wrong with your emails. You needed to get everything right. This was your dream job. Over your dead body will you let this go.

She waves her hand like she’s brushing it off. “We’ve been having a little issue with our emails lately. Currently, we have you starting as soon as possible. Whenever you are ready.” Seriously?! That meant you could probably start today!

The tour continued down the same hall, taking a right. “Really? Is it possible I could start today? I would love to get my hands on the tools as soon as possible.” Hopefully you don’t overdo it with your passion to work. At least in this field.

“Of course. I’m glad because we were planning for your first day to start right now.” She shows you to another room similar to room before with a more open space. This side looked like it dealt with more chemicals than biology. “The team isn’t here today. But I’m more than happy to let you roam after the tour, get to know the place.”

This possibly couldn’t be happening! God, you were in heaven. No one could smack the smile off of your face. No matter how hard they tried.

“Thank you. I’m so glad I can start today. I promise not to let you down.” Another room is showed to you. “I’ve had a passion for science since I was little. I know I’m going to be a great fit for the team.”

“I know you won’t let us down.” The two of your continue further down a different hall. The doors become less welcoming and more… prison like. As if they’re trying to keep something in. In the heat of the moment, you silence the alarm going off in your head. “I know you will be a great fit. Very great fit to our team.”

There’s something in the way she said that nearly threw you off. Your brows furrowed for only a second before she stopped in front of a door. This one looked even more heavily modified than any of the others you’ve seen. It’s at the end of a hallway, furthest from the rest of the facility.

“Ah, here we are. I can’t believe the tour already has come to an end.” She almost sounded genuinely sad to end the tour. Amelia places her hand on a screen next to the entrance. “This is where I leave you to your work, doctor.”

The metal slab slid into a hidden pocket and revealed a dark, pitch black room. You tilted your head and peered inside. Maybe the lights will turn on by motion. You turn towards her. “Hey the lights-“

Hands shoved at you from behind. A scream left your lips as you stumble forward before falling to your hands and knees. The darkness instantly crowds you, trying to suck you into its being. You whipped your head around to find Amelia standing at the entrance with an evil grin. A shudder ran its course through your body. Your breathing started to increase.

“Have fun with our new… project.” Then, the door snapped close and sealed you in the pitch blackness that threatened to consume you whole.

Your heart thundered in your ears. Blindly, you stood on unsteadily legs with your arms out to feel around. One step forward almost sent you back to the ground. The shakiness of your entire being was throwing you off. You took another step of faith only to be blinded by white light that sent you back on your butt.

Pain stung at your sensitive eyes. The change didn’t take you long to peel them open and see the room you’ve been thrown into.

And the beast who watched with rapt attention.

Terror gripped at your heart. You didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe. It’s bright, vibrant eyes that nearly glowed were pinned on your trembling form. It’s barrel chest heaved with each deep intake of air it took. Never did it look away from you.

Something about it made you feel like prey in the sight of a predator. It just needed to sink its claws into your fragile flesh.

“You might be wondering what this thing is and why we’ve brought you here?” Amelia’s voice broke the tension in the air coming from a speaker system. You yelped at the sudden sound and scrambled backwards. The humanoid creature observed every move you made. The moment you moved, it roared with a piercing sound and lunged at you.

Heavy chains secured it to the wall. They creaked under its strength as its wild eyes looked at you. Its arm clawed at the air as if it could pull you closer. Your back smacked against the nearest wall as you stared at the creature. Fear evident in your eyes. You watched as the beast cried and spat spittle with each attempt to get to you. But, thankfully the chains held.

“This is the project we’ve raved about. Meet… a Yautja. An alien from outer space,” Amelia lets the words settle for a dramatic pause. In the mean time, the creature has finally calmed down once it realized it couldn’t get to you for the moment. “Well, we needed someone to test something out for us. Of course, I didn’t want to use any of our wonderful staff here. So, I choose you. Our new test subject.”

Test subject?! “For what!?” you screamed at her, hoping she could hear you. Hear the anger that wiggled through the terror.

“For our breeding program.” You blinked once. Twice. Three times. Then, the words finally sunk in completely. “We’ve captured this Yautja when he landed in LA. We gave him an aphrodisiac. Now, he’s become a mindless, breeding male. And you, our dear test subject, will be the first. We hope you survive.”

Silence entered the air afterwards. The speakers no longer buzzed with energy. Her words flew wildly inside of your mind, bouncing around every corner. You tried to make sense, come to terms with what she’s put you into. But it… you couldn’t settle. They’re using you for a breeding program with an alien. An alien that looked ready to tear you apart rather then- you stopped the thoughts. You swallowed thickly and weakly stood on shaky legs.

In horror, you observed the chains clicking open. Once the last one was released, there wasn’t even time to register the brown, humanoid shape flash across the room. Strong, massive hands snatched your throat and the front of your shirt. The fabric was torn from your form and discarded without any regard. Next, your pants and underwear were taken care of in the same matter.

You screamed and tried to kick and punch the mindless beast. All of your strikes hit. Yet none of them deterred him. It seemed like they didn’t even tickle him. It forced you face down, ass up underneath it. The entire palm of his hand gripped the side of your head, keeping you pinned in a primed position.

It leaned down and covered you with its entire body. Heat radiated off of it like a firepit. Flames flickering to lick at your clammy skin. You shuttered at the difference of temperature. It’s free hand reached between your legs but paused for a moment.

“I-I ca-an’t stop,” a throaty, croaky voice whispered into your ear. You tensed up underneath the beast before jerking at the touch of its fingers. They glided through your slit, gathering what slick had pooled. Your body betraying you at the knowledge of a monster getting ahold of you.

That almost… sounded like an apology of some kind. The scientists have turned this alien into a mindless, breeding machine with the aphrodisiac. The poor thing couldn’t control its actions. All it could do was follow instinct, despite the difference of species.

A whine surged past your lips when the wet pad of its finger rubbed around your hardening nub. At least, he was trying to make it bearable. You felt something blazing hot and throbbing slide between your open legs, rubbing against your slit. A moan left your lips before you could stop yourself. You didn’t stop struggling but your attempts were weakening.

The tip was tapered by the feeling of it. You felt it nudge against your entrance. He paused for a moment, as if fighting the drugs that filled his system. Then, his hips snapped forward and full sheathed his cock into you. You cried out against the dirty, concrete floor and clawed for escape. The beast added more weight to pin you down and began a pace you couldn’t comprehend. All before you had a chance to make sense of what’s up and what’s down.

Each thrust nearly sent you flying towards the wall. If it wasn’t for his hand on your head, you would’ve been smooshed against it. Your eyes were clenched shut. “Fuck! S-slow… slow down!” you begged for relief, even for a moment. The beast deepened a growl and quickened his thrusts somehow. The pain only increased with pleasure. You were barely able to breath as he thrusted into you sent the air out of your lungs.

His other hand not holding your head gripped your hip in a bruising hold. Sharp talons punctured your flesh. Beads of red pooling to the surface then dripping down your belly and onto the cold, unforgiving floor. There was nothing you could do to stop him. All you were able to do was hold on for the unrelenting ride.

To ease some of the ache, you reached between your legs and circled two digits around your puffy clit. The stretch of his massive, thick cock pressed against every little nerve you had. At the touch, you mewled and quickened the speed almost to match his.

Your bottom lip was pinched between dull teeth, trying to hold in your noises. It was embarrassing. To take enjoyment out of this. But, fuck. The creature took up every inch of available space inside of you then some more. You could feel the way your stomach distended each time he sheathed himself to the hilt. There was something expanding at the base of him as well. It would catch each time he pushed in and out.

Thick fingers gripped the strands of your hair and yanked your head back. One arm slapped against the smooth concrete floors. You squealed and released the hold on your lip, forced to let everyone know how you were feeling.

The pleasure building in your stomach was amounting to something. Despite the ache and pains this gave you, you were feeling the coil tightening. You rewetted your fingers with your own juices before going back to work. The way they easily slid over your puffy clit had you seeing stars.

It continued to build and build. He lets go of your hair, letting your upper torso to lie back on the ground. You almost curled into yourself, confused about the nearing end, and panted heavily. “Oh, fuck. H-how?!” you muttered to yourself.

White flashed across your vision. Your walls clamped down on his thick shaft, trying to suck him in deeper. A weak, pathetic squeak escaped your vocal cords, the only sound you could make. Your entire body tensing up and rode out the waves of the overwhelming pleasure.

Amidst your orgasm, the beast growled in victory then pushed his hips flush with yours. A loud, deafening roar tore from his throat. You felt his cock swell inside of you, the base locking him inside of you. The ball of flesh pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves just on the inside of your cunt. You trembled and shook underneath him. The ecstasy far too much for you to handle.

As the last of the pleasure started to fade away, you slumped weakly onto the floor, hips still held up by his hand. The feeling of the thick, swollen flesh boarded uncomfortable. You trembled and attempted to pull your hips away from his.

The creature snarled threateningly and ensnared your entire waist with an arm. You fearfully tensed up. But, he calmed down afterwards and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Deadly fangs grazed across your flesh, pebbling the skin with goosebumps. Vibrations ran down from your spine. Barely a sound made. He rubbed his face against your skin, coating you with his scent.

You were thankful for that to be over. For the most part. He was still lodged deep inside of you with no way of pulling out. He wouldn’t let you. You took in deep, lungsful of air, and tried to regulate your breathing.

Some time past when you felt him start to deflate inside of you. With a grunt, the creature jerked his hips back. The ball of flesh popped free from your stretched entrance. He pulled away. Fresh air flushed over you and made you shiver at the coolness of the air.

Yet, you weren’t cold for long. The same heat from before prodded at your entrance. Your exhausted state immediately drained away. You jerked up and attempted to get on your hands. A massive hand slammed you back onto the ground. The alien snarled another warning to you then sunk all the way to the base inside of you again.

It wasn’t as painful as before. The earlier treatment had you stretched out beyond your limits. You still keened at the feeling and squirmed. He rewrapped his arm around your waist and pulled your hips flush with his.

“Again?” you asked with a cry. The first round was punishing enough. You didn’t know if you could survive another go with him.

He pulled his hips back until the tip was still sitting just inside of you. With a growl, the beast plowed back into you without any mercy.

The aphrodisiac was a powerful drug on him. It forced him to go on. All the way till you reached the verge of blacking out. Either from exhaustion or the amount of orgasms he pulled from you. You swore he went until his balls had been emptied inside of you, filling you with his seed. The inside of your legs coated with it. With a small puddle pooling between your trembling legs.

Finally, the creature collapsed to the side and pulled you with him. His knot was still lodged inside of you, keeping the contents of his last orgasm deep inside of you. You had no energy to fight. You let him take you, unable to barely keep your eyes open enough to see. They were filled with blurry tears.

His arm tightened around your waist, keeping you locked to him. You groaned, deep from your chest, eyes shut at this point.

“If you can hear me… I am sorry for my actions,” he muttered lowly into your ear. Only for you hear. You didn’t have the energy to answer. Just lying there, in his arms, letting sleep take you away. “I promise you. I’ll get us out of here.”

Hope fluttered to life in your chest.

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