#both of them have completely different routines and ways of living

[winksasleeplesseye]

SUMMARY: Leon returns from a mission, same as always. But something is different as he closed his eyes to sleep.

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Mostly angst for now. Also no editing we die like men around these parts

[MASTERLIST][NEXT]

It all started with a dream. And no, not in the way you’d think. Leon, having completed his latest mission as the government's best lap dog—asset, had returned home to what he could deem some sense of normalcy. Well, as much as he could have from his days as a cop to now. A monotonous routine he’d settled into that provided some semblance of that…normalcy.

Wake up, eat, shower, go to the office, paperwork for mission reports, go home, sleep, repeat. Of course, the added benefit of missions—despite their punishing nature, helped break it up enough that Leon never could pinpoint the lack of what he was missing. What he’d been missing for a long time. You. When he thought of how his life panned out in the wake of the Raccoon City incident, Spain, and other incidents too many to count on one hand, he drifted back to you. Both of you had met that fateful night, both of you with similar stories to one another. Both of you sharing in a bond that failed to measure up to anything else Leon had ever known in his 21 years of living at that time. He hated to overthink it, it was just one evening after all and he had an awful tendency to fall too hard, too fast but he remembered your shared glances, your easy words, all of it during and after the incident—he couldn’t have imagined that. Was this always how things were meant to be? Leon could say with confidence, he did more existing than living. And most days, he was fine with that. As fine as one could be, given the circumstances. But that evening when he closed his eyes, expecting his usual nightmares that often woke him up in a cold sweat….he found something different. Sunlight streamed through the blinds of his apartment, filtered only the added curtains over them. The warmth of the sun hit right into eyes and for some reason, he couldn’t recall the last time it had ever been so nice outside. At least by DC weather standards lately. He fought to push himself from out of the covers but similar to the warmth of the sun, another warmth was emanating next to him in bed. A person. Shit. Did he bring someone home? Why couldn’t he remember that? He cautiously chanced a look closer to the body, hidden under the covers as they cling to them. Stirring briefly, the person that turned over was…you. Your eyes were closed, chest slowly rising and falling. You. You were asleep in his bed. He couldn’t recollect the last time he’d seen you since…. “If you’re going to stare, a photo would do you wonders, Mr. Kennedy,” you spoke up, voice a tad groggy but your eyes were still closed. Your smile was undeniable though. At first, Leon didn’t know what to say. You spoke as if this were an everyday, normal occurrence. Waking up together. Being together. Something nagged at the back of Leon’s mind. Was he going crazy? Was this even real? Okay, focus. He just needed to do what he usually did to start his day. You weren’t actually there, his brain was just trying to make sense of the chaos of his waking life no matter how much he believed it was normal. Without a word, Leon practically threw the covers off and pressed his feet into the cold, hardwood floor. His feet padded against it, still felt fairly real. Pressure of his feet to the floor didn’t make it seem like he’d float away. Once in the bathroom, he ran his hands under the faucet. Cold water sent the same sensation it always did to his nerves and he ran the water over his face.

Still bitingly cold. Still real. He lifted his eyes to the mirror, seeing himself like he always had. Same tired eyes, same hair, same Leon. But still the constant of you also rising from the bed from his peripheral vision. Leon tries to convince himself that maybe he got something in his eyes as he rubbed them furiously. Then arms wrap around his waist from behind, your cheek glued to his back. Your hands began tracing over his skin, soft but firm. His mind had to be playing a trick on him, he can feel the pressure, the heat of you against him. No one’s mind could conjure up sensations like that. Not even Leon’s. “Hmm, a response would’ve been appreciated, mister,” you said as you cling to Leon. You sound like you’re playfully pouting, he turned his eyes over his shoulder to see you were, in fact. You were there. Holding him like you didn’t want to let go. For a moment, Leon slips into this, plays along. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he turned around, cupped your face, fingers grazing your jaw as he stared into what was assuredly your eyes that he remembered. The same soft, sweet eyes. Underneath the bright, rather harsh bathroom light, he could see their same clarity. Leon’s mind often had a funny way of muddling the details of you but as you stood here in his arms, you became more real. Every single detail he could feel as he ran his hands down your skin, the softness, the heat, the scent as he pressed his lips to your neck briefly. You pulled back, eyes filled with a quiet affection but he didn’t miss the small bit of confusion, “You’re being…strange,” you murmured, but there was no judgment in your voice, only that soft smile of understanding that he loved so much. You ran a hand over his forehead, “You sure that last mission didn’t give a head injury? Or a fever?” He grabbed your hands, placing them around his neck. “No, I promise, everything’s all good.” He smiled faintly, a sense of contentment spreading across his face. “No head injury or fever, feel like a million bucks,” he spoke. He leaned down, pressing his lips gently against yours, tasting the sweetness of your lips had him convinced this had to be real. He wasn’t sure how but he wouldn’t question it. Your laughter against his lips, echoed softly. But your voice was slowly muffling, fading into the haze of his subconscious as if whatever this is was beginning to slip away. He could feel it: the cool edge of awareness, the creeping pull of waking. But he pushed through, kissing you once more, the sensation seemed to fade a little more, like it was slipping through his fingers, like you were.

For a moment, the world stood still. The sound of his heartbeat, the feel of your warmth against him, the light touch of your hand on his cheek—it was all so real. Too real to be anything but true. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, eyes closed, trying to hold on. “I don’t want to wake up,” he muttered, almost in disbelief, like the words themselves could prevent the inevitable. Before you could respond, Leon shot up from his bed. The familiar jolt that startled him into awake as always. Less fear behind it this time. Still, his heart hammered in his chest as he sat up, stiff as a board. All he could see was the dull, gray reality of his apartment, the harsh light of the morning seeping in through the blinds. The bed was empty. The room was silent. His hand shot out instinctively to the side, reaching for something that wasn’t there. His fingers brushed against the cold, empty sheets. No you. No warmth. The air in the room felt almost offensively sharp, pricking at his skin rather than a comforting cool. A stark contrast between his dream and the dullness of the world he inhabited was too much to stand right now. The echoes of the dream clung to him like a shadow. Everything felt so…real. Leon ran a hand over his face, frustration and a longing mixing in his chest, the ache of loss—one for which he had never addressed with you, intensified. The soft weight of you in his arms, the way they had kissed, a promise of a life Leon had never imagined. Until now.

Leon tried. He did. The fleeting glimpse of what his dream offered was nothing more than that, a dream. But still, Leon couldn’t help but to let his mind wander in his waking hours the next day. A new change to his routine. He worked more efficiently, only for the slight hope he could continue his dream. With you by his side. He couldn’t deny that his heart ached. Ached at how life had turned out and what could’ve been and it was as if his mind decided to bring the reminders to the forefront after all this time. The small moment of domesticity, a moment so genuinely normal and ordinary felt so surreal. Leon never actually envisioned it for himself. Not after everything. Just didn’t seem like it could be in the cards for him. He was relegated to one role and one role only and he never had the determination to prove himself wrong. That he could do both. Have a partner and be an agent. Have someone to come home to. He certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t have expected to have that with you either. The government kept you both separated for a reason, one he’d never understand. Again, he tried to reason with himself and chalk it up to just his brain doing what it does. Why did everything feel so real then? Explain that, Kennedy. He could still taste the sweetness of her lips, feel their pressure against his. God, he had to just be going crazy. That had to be it. Why of all times does this happen now? At the end of the work day, he decided to fight sleep. Upon entering his apartment, he instead lounged on the couch and switched on late night television. The television glowed dimly in the apartment, its flickering images casting muted light across the room. The sound of a late-night talk show droned on, the host’s laughter echoing faintly in the background. Leon sat slouched on the couch, his dinner forgotten on the coffee table. There was enough nonsense on the screen that Leon assumed he had given himself enough stimulation to not fall asleep or really even think. The room, the city, the world seemed quiet, but that actually did nothing to quiet his mind. He found himself gazing aimlessly around the room. Not much decor on the walls, the furniture functioned—so, so hollow. His eyes settled on the far wall, the noise of the TV becoming faint to his ears, and that’s when he assumed he was going crazy as images came to his mind. With you. They crept up like a thief in the night, but part of him seemed to subconsciously want them to. In the dim light of his apartment, he could almost see you. You, leaning against that wall, your arms crossed with a teasing smirk on your face. “You think you’re so smooth, Kennedy,” you said, stepping closer. Your voice was playful, but your eyes held a heat that made his breath hitch. He saw himself—dream Leon he assumed—taking a step forward, closing the gap between them. “And you don’t?” he shot back, his voice low, his lips tugging into a half-smile. Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall with surprising strength. Their lips met, and the heat between them was instant, overwhelming. Leon blinked, and the vision dissolved. The wall was just a wall again, bare and unremarkable. Leon’s eyes drifted to the cushion next to him, an almost transparent version of you manifesting sitting next to him, fingers lightly brushing his. He could feel it—the warmth of your touch, the way your thumb idly stroked his knuckles as they sat side by side. Another scene played in his mind. You had turned toward him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know what I love about you?” You had asked, tilting your head. “What’s that?” Another Leon had replied, his voice soft, but his heart thundered all the same in his chest. You had smiled, leaning in close. “That you’re still so easy to fluster.” You kissed him then, slow and deliberate, your lips brushing his as if savoring the moment.

The talk show host’s voice pulled him back to reality, and Leon rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh. The television’s glow felt oppressive now, highlighting the emptiness of the room. He stared at the blank wall across from him, his heart aching with every memory that wasn’t real but felt like it should have been. The visions were so vivid, so vibrant, as though his mind had painted a life he could never truly have. The silence in the apartment grew deafening, and for a moment, Leon almost reached out—toward a version of you, the dream of you. But his hand fell back to his lap, and he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the couch. “Damn it,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw. “I’m losing it.”

And yet, despite his assessment, he began to welcome it. If he was able to have momentary reprieve, happiness in his dreams? He’d take it. Over the next few days, his mind would again drift. The more dreams, the more they bled into reality and sometimes he couldn’t tell what came from his memories or what came from the dreams. He’d sit in his office, the faint scent of ink and coffee heavy in the air, hearing things he’d think you’d say in the moments that the monotony dragged. Which only made him realize just how mind-numbing it all was. Tedious, this kind of work dulled the edges of his mind. But today, it felt sharper—every word, every line of text seemed to echo with something missing. He signed his name at the bottom of a form and paused, his pen hovering over the paper. Your voice drifted through his thoughts, clear as if you were sitting across from him. “You’ve got the worst handwriting I’ve ever seen. Are you sure you’re not a doctor?” A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, unbidden and fleeting. His eyes flicked to the empty chair on the other side of the desk, and for a moment, he could almost see you there. Your hair pulled back, a teasing smile on your lips as you slid a takeout box across the desk. “Thought you could use something that wasn’t brewed in the office swamp,” you’d say, pulling chopsticks from your bag and settling in like you belonged there. Leon blinked, and the vision dissolved, leaving only the empty chair and the stack of paperwork. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself back to the task at hand.

At the end of the day, he held a flickering sense of hope that he’d be able to see you again in his dream tonight. It was where you were as real as the air he breathed. Your head laid against his chest, soft steady breaths coming from you. A quiet comfort that anchored him in the hazy realm between sleep and awake. Your scent—familiar and impossibly soothing—permeated the air, wrapping around him like a memory made flesh. He’d continue to convince himself that his mind could never replicate something like that. The sensation as your fingers brushed over his, squeezing his hand in yours, made his chest ache as he looked at you. All of this felt so right. The scene shifted before his eyes and he now watched you move around their shared kitchen, wearing one of his shirts as the fabric brushed your thighs as you flipped pancakes with ease. Your hair was slightly mussed from sleep, humming a tune under your breath that seemed vaguely familiar. The heat from kitchen coupled with the faint clicking of the spatula and your humming—it was so real. “Breakfast will be done soon,” you said without looking up, your voice light and teasing. “Unless you want to keep staring at me like a lovesick puppy. In that case, I can take my time.” Leon smiled, his heart swelling at the ease in your tone. He stepped closer, his socked feet soundless on the floor. “Maybe I like staring.” “You’re very smooth in the morning, aren’t you?” You smirked in his direction. “I am. Hard not to be when you look like this,” He grinned, leaning against the counter, closer to you. You chuckled. “You are trouble, Agent Kennedy.” How could he convince himself this wasn’t real? The scent of the sweet batter of pancakes. The ticking clock all gave credence to this not being a dream. It was all clearer and sharper than any dream he’d had before. Leon stared, his gaze intense. He wanted to stay in this moment, his heart swelling with a fullness he hadn’t experienced in a while. In this dream, this moment, everything was perfect. He didn’t want to wake up.

[eust4sskidd]

one of my favourite things to do is imagine what kid and law as college roommates would be like (when they get along aka get high together) but also the gradual difference from being strangers to being tolerable to each other to... something more perhaps.

[bunny-lily]

Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading

[doreminimi]

love is blind [Bang Chan One-Shot]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: 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.

[thatonegreekgodwrites]

“ECHOES OF ELYSIUM”

Odysseus x Fem!Reader

warnings. sexual assault, slavery, a greek retelling, eventual smut, war/gore, this won’t have a happy ending

pairing. odysseus x fem! reader (inspired by epic:the musical)

in the heart of troy, amidst the towering walls and architecture, the city bustled with the vibrant energy of its people. the market squares were filled with the sounds of merchants haggling and children playing, unaware of the shadow of war creeping ever closer. within the palace, the air was different—heavier with the scent of incense and the hum of anticipation.

you, a young slave girl with kind eyes and calloused hands, moved silently through the halls. your life was one of routine and quiet obedience, your existence almost invisible among the grandeur of the palace. today, however, was a day of celebration, and even you could not escape the excitement that seemed to permeate the very stones of troy.

the reason for the festivities was the birth of the heir, the firstborn son of prince hector and his beloved wife, andromache. the birth of the child promised new hope and joy, a symbol of strength and continuity. their legacy now secured if the gods favored them so. the celebration was to be grand, with nobles and warriors alike gathering to honor the new prince and his family.

you had been tasked with pouring wine for the guests. it was a simple task, yet it required precision and grace—qualities that had been drilled into you from a young age. you carried a large jug, the cool red liquid sloshing gently inside, as you made your way to the grand hall.

as you entered the hall, you were struck by the sight before you. the room was adorned with rich tapestries and garlands of flowers. the tables were laden with food and drink, and the air was filled with the murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. at the center of it all was prince hector, his tall frame and noble bearing making him easily recognizable. beside him stood andromache, cradling their newborn son, both of them beaming with pride and joy.

you approached the head table with a steady gait, careful not to draw too much attention to yourself. you dipped your head respectfully, eyes fixed on the ground. you could feel the weight of the guests' gazes on you, but you remained focused, constantly reminding yourself to not make a mistake in your mind as you were known to be a bit clumsy.

"wine, my lord?" you asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

hector turned to you, his expression warm and kind. "yes, thank you," he said, gesturing to the goblet before him.

you carefully poured the wine, the liquid catching the light and sparkling as it filled the goblet. moving down the table, you repeated the process for andromache and the other guests. as you worked, you couldn't help but steal glances at the infant in andromache's arms. the baby boy, unaware of the significance of his birth, slept peacefully, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

the celebration continued, the sounds of music and laughter filling the hall. you retreated to the edges of the room, task completed only for the moment. you watched the scene unfold, a mixture of longing and contentment in your heart. despite your status, you found joy in the happiness of others, even if it was a distant joy.

the night wore on and you remained vigilant, ready to attend to any needs that might arise. you and everyone else were unaware of the storm brewing beyond the walls of troy, the consequences of paris' actions casting a long shadow over the kingdom that would consume them in darkness in due time. for now, in this moment of peace, the future seemed bright and full of promise.

but you knew, as did everyone in troy, that peace was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the whims of fate. and as you stood in the grand hall, the echoes of the past and the whispers of the future intertwined, creating a tapestry of uncertainty that would shape the destiny of troy and all who lived within its walls.

lingering on the edges of the grand hall, your eyes scanning the room for any sign that you might be needed. the celebration for the birth of hector's son was still going even as night fell, the hall being brought alive with music and laughter.

suddenly, the room seemed to tilt as a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you roughly into the light.

you turned to see hector's younger brother, prince deiphobus, his face flushed with wine and his eyes glazed with a drunken haze. he was known for his roguish charm, but tonight, it was more than evident that he had indulged too much.

"well, well, what do we have here?" he slurred, his hand wandering from your shoulder down your arm, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. "a pretty little dove in the midst of all these hawks."

you stiffened, your pulse quickening as you bit your tongue, swallowing the surge of disgust that rose within you. you were a servant—a slave, and he was a prince. to resist would mean severe punishment, which meant you had no choice but to endure.

"my lord, can i get you some water?" you offered, hoping to distract him, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

deiphobus laughed, a sound that was more menacing than mirthful. "water? no, i have something else in mind." his hand moved to your waist, drawing you closer as his breath was hot and reeking of alcohol against your ear. "tell me, does a slave like you know how to have fun?"

you forced a smile, the muscles in your face straining with the effort. "i am here to serve, my lord, in whatever way pleases you."

he grinned, his hand sliding lower. "good girl," he murmured, fingers tracing the curve of your hip. "i knew you would understand."

every fiber of your being screamed to pull away, but you remained still, eyes fixed on the ground. you could feel the weight of the guests' gazes on you, some watching with curiosity, others with indifference—after all, your plight meant nothing to them.

"why don't we find a quieter place, hmm?" deiphobus suggested, his tone laced with a dangerous edge.

"deiphobus," helenus called out from next to them, raising his goblet to his lips as he quirked a brow, voice calm but commanding. "leave her be."

deiphobus turned, a drunken sneer on his face. "ah, helenus. always the serious one. why don't you go back to your scrolls and leave the fun to me?"

helenus' eyes narrowed. "surely you can go one night without tainting another servant. find entertainment elsewhere and by the gods, remember that you're a prince, have some decorum."

deiphobus scoffed, but the firmness in helenus's voice gave him pause. he let go of you with a rough shove, making you stumble back. "fine, fine," he muttered, turning away with a dismissive wave. "always spoiling the fun."

helenus watched him go, his expression unchanging until deiphobus disappeared into the crowd. then, he turned to you, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "next time you ought to remember i won't be able to stop him, i suggest you find a way to keep your hands busy."

you nodded with a tug inside your chest. "yes, my lord, thank you."

with that, he looked away, drowning the conversation of the people around him as his own servants served him grapes. you took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you took helenus' advice, moving around the large room to keep yourself occupied and out of the sight of deiphobus.

you felt the fragility of peace hanging in the air, a feeling of knowing that the celebration of new life was shadowed by the impending storm. yet, within the confines of your role, you found a flicker of strength, a resolve to endure whatever fate the gods had in store for you.

author’s note. comment your thoughts, if this does well I’ll continue it over on here and might put more effort into the account. you can find this story also on my wattpad account. thanks for reading!

[knavesflames]

Hello, I hope your day goes well as you're reading this!

If your request is still open, can I request touch deprived! Arlecchino and Touch deprived! Reader? Like reader is very clingy and affectionate to her closest friends because she's been deprived of physical affection since she was younger, and Arlecchino who's also touch deprived but unlike reader who has no problem with physical affection, she finds it hard to do it, but when she meets reader who's hugs are so comfortable she's grown addicted to it and craves her gentle touches more and more, thank you! Have a great day or night!

(I realise I’m apologising on every post for the late ones, but I’m almost caught up to a reasonable delay) hi anon!! I feel this hard, I am so affectionate because I was touch starved as a child. Though, I focused this writing piece more on Arlecchino. I love exploring her and her being in character and slightly OOC too. (She’s my comfort character, can you guys tell?) thank you for the ask!

Word count: 1k

Content: fluff, Arlecchino is touched starved, she loves you

Nsft utc!

Arlecchino and you have come from completely different backgrounds (that are unfortunately all too similar as well). You worked well together even so, your routines matching each other, the same sense of humour. By that, I mean, you joked, her lips barely turned up, and she hummed in response (which is equivalent to your wheezing on the sofa over.. a silly cat?). The point is, you worked. You both made sense together. Except one, tiny little detail.

You loved physical touch, and she despised it. Once you discovered how it felt, you were obsessed. You loved the way your body was enveloped by arms that seemed like they’d block out the whole world for you.

Arlecchino hated physical touch. She isn’t used to it, she grew up with her horrifying excuse for a Mother, and physical affection was used often as manipulation rather than anything else, she saw that much with what happened to her dear, dear friend (who haunts her dreams).

The first time Arlecchino held you was a year into your relationship. She awoke during the night to an empty bed, and when she made her way towards the living room, she saw you, in tears on the sofa. A bad dream, you had said, and nothing more. Arlecchino saw the way your body was almost aching for some sort of touch, and despite the discomfort, her arms wrapped around you. Awkward, clumsy, and a little bit forced, but she hugged you. She had not hugged someone since she was sixteen. Without a word, her thumb stroked against your arm, and she felt the way your body slumped against her body. She felt like a burning fire, you realised, most likely due to the flames running through her veins, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

She began to notice that holding you in her embrace was not as torturous as she assumed. Arlecchino held you until you fell asleep.

Her embraces were few and far between, reserved only for special moments or moments where she can see you need them. Her facial expression never changes, but over time, she becomes slightly more comfortable with every hug. She ended up craving your embraces, the way your hand gingerly caresses her cheek and your lips on her skin, the gentle squeeze on her arm when you go past her. She wanted so desperately to associate touch with you instead, someone she knows could never hurt a spider.

Eventually, she begins allowing it more and more, and even begins silently hinting when she wants one by sighing slightly louder, or grumbling a bit when things go wrong, only to feel a fuzzy warmth inside when you smile at her and give a gentle touch. Both you and Arlecchino wonder if she will one day make the first move.

Arlecchino does not know why she dislikes physical affection so much. She enjoys buying gifts she knows you will cherish and love instead, doing things at a distance. This was never supposed to be anything more than a fling, she didn’t want investment, she didn’t want any affection to be returned, but she fell for you, and hard. She dislikes how vulnerable she has become around you, but a part of her deep down inside of her likes it too. Arlecchino is scared you will leave, that you will ruin her one day, and she feels like it won’t happen if she doesn’t let on how hard she has fallen. (Everyone knows and says nothing.)

Perhaps she prefers affection the way she does, unrequited and with little investment, is because some part of her craves a love so great that it would tear her apart, and that frightens her. She does not know how to receive love, yet she still wants a love that will consume her entire being and burn hotter than the flames that course through her veins with every beat of her slowly-thawing heart. You are thawing her, she knows that much.

The weather chills the way her touch grows warmer, and winter comes quickly. The winter in Snezhnaya was cold and biting, and despite her accommodating her home for you (she clearly does not need it) by lighting the fireplace and leaving you blankets, the cold still finds its way into your bones, leaving you shivering. One night, when it is the coldest night of the year, you find yourself unable to sleep at all. You lay awake in the dark, thinking about your past the way you always do at night, shivering so hard you’re practically vibrating.

At some point, you hear her stirring, and you try to quiet yourself, to make sure she can continue sleeping. She noticed the second she opened her eyes, though. Doesn’t she always? She is glad you are pretending to sleep so you do not see the hesitation in her eyes before she snaps herself out of it and does what you both want her to. Wordlessly, she shuffles a few inches closer and her arm wraps around your midsection, dragging you closer until her body is wrapped around yours. Arlecchino, being the attentive person she is, notices your smile and sigh of relief and the way your shivering stops. She notices the way you nestle further in once you know she’s okay with it, and she notices when your breath falls into a deep rhythm.

It is her turn to stare at the wall, her heart beating faster than usual, the only giveaway of any of her feelings. Slowly, her arms snake around you until she’s holding you so tight you can’t move even if you wanted to. Her breath is visible when she exhales, when she lets her body finally relax in the company of another. Arlecchino buries her face into your hair, smelling your shampoo. The smell makes her drowsy, she tells herself (it is not the smell, it is that after so many years, her walls have crumbled completely), and she finds her eyes drooping until she, too, falls into the throes of sleep.

Arlecchino sleeps the best she ever has. Arlecchino has her first night of no nightmares since she became the poor, mad, cursed knave. Arlecchino does not feel so cursed when you are beside her.

[pippin-katz]

You know, everyone says that Edwin is a brat, but I have to disagree. Edwin is a bitch, 100% but he's not a brat. You know who is a brat?

CHARLES.

Think about this for a second!

Charles tells the little girl that Edwin’s thing is to “play hard ball” as he’s about to do it, being cheeky and giving away the game. They save Crystal, find out she has some sort of amnesia, and he immediately says she can stay at their office without asking Edwin if it’s okay. And Edwin doesn’t even argue! He’s like, "okay, we don’t usually do that, what the hell, but guess this is a thing right now”.

They bring her back to their office, and he tries to explain that this it’s a bad idea, but notably tries to whisper so as not to wake her up. Even though Edwin doesn't like her and doesn't want her there, he's considerate. Edwin’s entire routine and safe space has been upended by this living girl, so he’s understandably stressed and in a bad mood, but Charles is like, “you’re being bitchy, so I’m gonna go out with Crystal”. They get back and Edwin’s still upset, and then Charles is like, “btw she’s gonna stay” without asking Edwin AGAIN! And AGAIN he doesn’t argue! He immediately asks how long she’s staying for!

Then Crystal reads Becky’s poster and Charles wants to go overseas for a living client, which is all new and Edwin even says that it’s all happening too fast, and they STILL GO! Charles throws Edwin's own worries about Death back at him despite brushing him off earlier, and pulls the guilt trip card of letting Becky die, in front of Crystal, and fucking smiles because he knows he’s won.

And Edwin? He just fucking sighs.

And then once they’re in Port Townsend, Charles sides with Crystal at every turn. He tells Crystal they can find a different way to get the information when the entire point of bringing her was for her powers. He calls Edwin a show-off when he mirror hops, and says it not as an insult, but also without his usual fondness. He says himself that possessing the living "sets off all sorts of alarm bells in the Afterlife", proceeds to do it anyway, then brushes off Edwin’s worries of the consequences. When Crystal yells at them about being scared, he puts her feelings above Edwin’s, who has already been pushed completely out of his comfort zone, and is taking an extra personal risk getting involved with a demon considering he’s on the run from Hell. Even when Crystal’s revealed to have lied about David, and Edwin’s having a complete breakdown, Charles still brings it back around to Crystal.

And this is all just the FIRST EPISODE!!

They are both totally devoted to each other, unquestioningly, but Charles has Edwin literally wrapped around his finger. There's nothing he could ask him to do that he would refuse. He might bitch about it or resist it initially, but he always does what Charles wants in the end.

And Charles seems oblivious and all too aware at the same time. I don't think he has a grasp of how much Edwin would do or how far Edwin would go for him. But he smiles at him and knows he'll cave, and he uses that.

If one of them is a brat, it's fucking Charles.

(ko-fi)

[rederiswrites]

I wrote this out for FB and then thought I might as well share it here as well. So if you have ADHD, are a late-diagnosed adult with ADHD, and most particular if you are a person with a uterus and/or have children, this one might be for you.

...

Last couple of days have been a little...weird. Let's start at the beginning. Buckle up and learn something.

As many of you already know, I have ADHD. It's a condition with a PR problem--a lot of people, often even medical professionals, have a very distorted idea of what it does, and a very limited one. For starters, it's not about parenting, or lead paint, or lack of discipline. It's genetic, *highly* heritable, starts in childhood and persists throughout life, and is a sufficiently severe disability that it comes with a decrease in life expectancy of up to 13 years. It is a visible difference that can be perceived in brain scans. These are all, at this point, well established and thoroughly attested in the scientific literature. ADHD affects up to 5% of the population and appears across cultures. It is very common.

It's not just about lack of attention--in fact, plenty of medical professionals think the name should be changed, as in fact the problem isn't the volume of attention but the way we struggle to direct it. We are motivated by interest, and struggle to properly weight future goals and consequences, specifically because they are in the future. If the robin outside the window is more immediately rewarding to our brain, we will watch that, and not the teacher. Our ability to properly weigh the consequences of that choice is negatively impacted by our own biochemistry.

We struggle with many of what are termed the "executive functions", the self management systems of the brain. Degree and presentation varies from person to person, but initiating tasks, completing tasks, staying ON task, restraining impulses, emotional regulation, and working memory are among the things impacted. My working memory is notoriously horrible. When they send you those activation codes on your phone? I often have to go back and read them out several times to enter a six digit number. I have to stop and remind myself what I'm doing between every step of my morning bathroom routine, or making tacos. Sometimes I take off my glasses to put on my contacts, reset, and reach for my pill bottles while I still can't see. My long-term memory is also affected, with my husband de facto serving as the memory-holder of the family.

Another common symptom I personally experience is "time blindness", which can mean both that you have no "internal clock" that has a clear idea of the passage of time, and that our ability to properly weight the importance of things in the future is impacted. So, for example, I can know intellectually what's coming, but it takes some really complex and exhausting antics to actually focus and work on those things if they're more than a week or sometimes even a couple days away.

Without externally imposed controls, many ADHD people flounder and fail to meet social markers of success. Estimates of how many ADHD people manage to complete college range from 5% to 15%. Again: 5% to 15%! I have failed twice myself. WITH externally imposed controls, ADHD people often have to work far harder to make their brains do what is required, and either fail and develop an image of themselves as failures (usually with plenty of external help), or keep fighting and suffer crippling burnout.

To that point, ADHD is HIGHLY comorbid with a whole range of knock-on conditions, some of which stem from the same brain patterns that give rise to the ADHD itself, and others from the trauma of living with a disability, but they include very high rates of depression, anxiety, fibromyalgia, social isolation, and addiction. I have dealt with depression, anxiety, and fibromyalgia my entire adult life. I have never ended up in the trap of self-medication but let's be real, that's partly about having supports and a healthy social environment. It's not some accomplishment I praise myself for, nor is addiction a sin I shame anyone for.

And anxiety has a very different texture to it when what you're really anxious about is the next time you fail in some catastrophic way. Lock your keys in the car. Completely space on a doctor's appointment. Go to pay for groceries and find that your wallet is next to your computer at home. Because the anxiety is not irrational fear of some generalized bad thing. These things do and will happen, regularly. Sometimes it feels like the only fix is getting good at recovering. Because no matter how many times you manage not to blow it, there's always another chance.

So, the struggle to be a reliable person, to be a consistent parent, to be a dependable life partner, is continuous. And it is so so so hard and it sometimes feels like you're not actually making any progress at all. I have tried therapy. I have tried three (or four??) different non-stimulant medications that sometimes help people. One of them DID help. ALL of them had catastrophic side effects. There were times as I was trialing these medications when I needed to be minded because I wasn't capable of taking care of anything, not even myself. Without Jacob, I don't know where I'd be. Not here. Probably in poverty, which is where he found me.

I have tried probably most organizational tools you know of. I have tried imposing schedules, all of which turned to dust and ash when the next fibromyalgia flareup or the next major life disruption happened. I don't think a new schedule has ever lasted a month before.

I HAVE felt like I'm made progress lately. I learned things that really helped my fibromyalgia, which gave me the space to work on other things--just like getting the borders of a puzzle finished. Enough things were spiraling upwards, and I think I might be cementing some gains. I have felt optimistic.

But in the meantime, I asked my doctor if, now that no less than three cardiologists have insisted my heart is Perfectly Healthy, I could finally try stimulant medications. After decades of use, Adderall, Ritalin, and a couple related stimulant drugs are still the gold standard for ADHD treatment and improve outcomes substantially for many people. And stimulants are in serious international shortage. Have been for many months. The only one she thought she could get me was Adderall. And she didn't dare try anything but the standard 30mg because nonstandard dosages would be even less attainable.

So now I'm taking Adderall. One week on 30mg, which I stopped when it was clear my function was being seriously impaired rather than improved. Reassessed with the doctor, now trying 60mg, because that's two of the pills I've already managed to obtain. It is....too much. And in some ways it fixes problems I wasn't working on, while so far making my executive function, my initiation or even *contemplation* of tasks, virtually nonexistant. Which was, of course, the thing I was trying to fix.

So yeah. When you have the context, I figure you can understand the substance of my frustration yourself. If you have children, I don't think you need my help to imagine what it would be like to know that you are unpredictable, or to see that your children are used to to you undergoing events that make you act strangely and erratically. I think just knowing that often, new medications introduce themselves by giving me a migraine, and I know this is possible when I take that first pill, is fairly self-explanatory. And so I expect you can imagine what it would be like, with all of this as a backdrop, to experience worsening of your symptoms, probably because of age-related hormonal changes. To in desperation try something you'd previously been denied. And to learn that it probably won't help.

In a week, I will either give up on Adderall for now or find a way to make it work. I'll put together the pieces yet again--at this point, possibly my strongest personal skill--and continue that upward climb as far as I can get. I'm incredibly fortunate in that regardless, I will be fed and dry and warm and loved. But right now, I feel justified in some serious dismay.

[rainroses45]

My Niece is a Goldfish?

۶ৎ description: Imagine when Dean goes to go pick up Sam from college, not only is the news of John being missing brought up but another little surprise was on its way. Dean Winchester x fem! reader ۶ৎ a/n: I have like 4 different incomplete stories in my notes app rn and I'm just so lazy because who the hell wants to read my garbage when people want smut but oh well i tried…not my best not my worst idc (Not edited) ۶ৎ song inspiration: Back to the Basics - Lana Del Rey ۶ৎ Warnings: ZIP ZERO NONE NADA

“Woah dude, why is there a car seat in the back?” Sam stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at the floral pink booster.

Dean had just broken into his apartment like a serial killer in the middle of night, dragged Sam out into the street after somehow convincing him to join him on trying to locate their dead beat father, and now there is a missing infant.

“Great.” Sam thought, “Dean caused an Amber alert.”

“Shit!” Dean scurried to the impala, hoping - no, praying that his brother developed cataracts or something. “I told them not to leave the car.”

“Them?!” Sam followed Dean around the impala. “What are you talking about?!”

“I told her not to leave,” Dean angrily said while dialing your number, “and what does she do,” he puts the flip phone to his ear, “she leaves.”

“Dean,” Sam walked over to him, still being completely ignored, “hellloooo??” He waved his hands in front of his older brother. “Who are you talking about?”

“Pick up, pick up,” Dean ignore him, anxiously tapped his thigh looking around, waiting for the phone to stop ringing, and your voice to answer.

“Okay if you are about done now with your little tap routine, I’m going back-“ Dean grabbed Sam’s shirt pulling him back like a dog on a leash.

“They couldn’t have gone far-” He shoved the flip phone in his pocket, frantically searching the area with worried eyes. “Dean let go man…” “You take that direction and I’ll check this side, maybe if we..”

“Dean, sweetie did you find Sam?”

And is if the lights from heaven sent a giant satellite beam on you, Dean turned around blindly searching for your voice.

“Oh my dear cream of tartar where have you been?!” Dean flared his hands down looking at you like you’ve been missing for months.

“Okay what the actual fuck is going on?” Sam was close to just throwing his duffle bag at the window, heading back into bed, and taking a melatonin.

Dean waved him off unfortunately to his demise. “Not right now bowl head I just saw all of my lives flash before me.”

“You’re such a baby.” You commented. You held what looked like to sam a tiny sack of potatoes with a pink blanket covering it from the winds.

“Does that mean I get to-“

“NO!” Both you and Sam scream - both for different reasons but the same sense of warning nonetheless.

“Okay can someone explain to me what is happening right now?”Sam ran his hands through his hair desperately trying to contain a forming headache from all this mojo of chaos.

“Well my dear Sammy, while you went off to college I decided to adopt the brady brunch- what the fuck do you think happened?” Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance walking over to you and the baby.

Sam now able to adjust his eyes realized the sack of potatoes turned out to be a little baby with the rosiest checks ever.

“I didn’t think you would end up with child.” Dean groaned at Sam’s comment.

“What are we the England Monarch? No of course I didn’t plan on bringing a baby into this world but stuff happens..” Dean trailed off, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. Sam on the other hand was having a whole mental gymnastics session trying to figure out how the hell things changed so fast.

“How is my little precious princess doing,” your husband pulled the blank down gently to see his daughter’s beautiful eyes peak out. She had the same sparkle and shape as yours to the point he could even see the tiny hew surrounding the pupil - she was beautiful.

“Sorry for leaving sweetheart,” you said to Dean, watching his cute reaction to his daughter gazing up at him. “She was getting fussy in the car waiting so I decided to take her on a little stroll.” You moved her down to your arms, cradling her into your chest.

“Would it have killed you to answer the phone at least?” Dean sighed as the rate of his heart finally matched his breathing.

“Sorry my phone died.” You knew your husband would be worrying about you but by the time you thought to call, you phone screen turned black with a red battery sign on.

“That’s okay just- I don’t know, shoot a flare gun or something just please don’t leave without telling me.”

“I won’t.” You smiled. He in return left a soft kiss to your check and a butterfly kiss to your daughter. She smiled at her father’s touch, making you both smile back; hearts so full with love, before the moment was ruined.

“So I have a niece?”

“No you have a pet goldfish, suprise!” Dean sparkled his hands around annoyingly, if he had known picking up his brother would be this tiring he might have just let Sam be stuck in his cob web filled books. . “How the hell you got into Stanford is beyond me.”

“That’s enough Dean,” you snickered as your husband rolled his eyes. “I think it’s nice to see you again Sam, although on different circumstances would have been nice.” You walked towards the impala, Dean already opened the back door for you as you hopped in with your little princess.

“Wow I just- I never took you as a father figure,” Sam looked down shocked, “I mean I didn’t even see you as one to settle down - no offense Y/n.”

“Umm very much taken Samuel.” You had been dating Dean since you both were 15, so to say he wouldn’t stick around after the shit show of high school was highly offensive.

“Everyone buckle up,” Dean readjusted his review mirror starring at you, as you buckled in your seven month old daughter. His whole life in the back of his car.

Sam clipped in his seatbelt, “Soooo am I going to have to interrogate the baby for answers orrr..”

“This is going to be a long car ride.” You smiled as Dean groaned.

“Well it all started when…”

[erodasfishtacos]

Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]

summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped

word count: 5k

warnings: angst

author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)

You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here

+

Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.

They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.

Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.

Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.

The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.

While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.

After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.

Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.

YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.

She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.

YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.

It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.

YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.

YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.

Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.

Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.

YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.

YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.

+

YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.

It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.

There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.

Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.

Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.

She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.

YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.

“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.

“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.

“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.

YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”

“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”

“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.

“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.

“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.

And YN just…cannot relate.

YN only fell in love once.

Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.

It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.

“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.

As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”

Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.

However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.

+

The next few weeks blend together for YN.

Every few days she actually catches up on her work.

Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.

Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.

Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.

She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.

But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.

YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.

She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.

At least three months have passed since the doctor started.

And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.

“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.

“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”

This didn’t sound good.

YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.

“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”

Fancy.

And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.

Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.

YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?

The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.

YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.

It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.

YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.

Maybe Mitch would be the one.

YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.

Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.

YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.

It was all up in the air.

The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.

Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.

Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.

The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.

YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.

Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.

As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.

However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.

The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”

“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.

Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.

This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.

“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.

He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.

Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.

“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.

Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”

YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.

She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.

“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.

“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.

YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”

YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”

“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.

YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.

They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.

Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.

“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.

YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.

Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.

Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.

From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.

After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.

Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.

YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”

Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”

“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“

“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.

Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.

“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.

She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.

To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.

It works.

The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.

There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.

You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.

Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.

“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.

Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.

His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”

Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.

“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.

Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.

YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.

Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”

“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”

The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.

Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.

A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.

Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.

He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.

Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.

YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.

The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.

YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.

Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.

How boring.

When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.

Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.

However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.

His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.

YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.

Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.

When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for. 

It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.

YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.

She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck?

YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.

YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.

She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.

When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”

However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.

No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.

“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”

“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”

“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”

The awful thing is that YN wants him too.

“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.

The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.

“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.

“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.

“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.

“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.

Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.

His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.

Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.

He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.

“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”

Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”

YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.

She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.

+

ahhhhhhh.

let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?

😙😙😙

[redr0sewrites]

Loki x reader General Hcs

this was... spontaneous! but i said i'd write for marvel and theres no better time than the present. PLEASE send in marvel requests🙏

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!loki, little teensy bit of angst if u squint

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

loki is a naturally guarded person, and is very intelligent and clever. he's not one to let his guard down easily and isn't used to dealing with true romantic feelings, so you are obviously very special to him

loki is incredibly intelligent and good at reading people, along with being very charismatic. he's used to charming people to get his way, and he very, very rarely shows his true feelings unless he trusts you. he cares a lot about your opinion, and a part of him really, really wants to please you

at first, it's hard for even loki to tell whether his feelings for you are genuine, and he gets completely tongue tied around you. he wants to be around you all the time, and he admires you a lot

when it comes to actually dating loki, please be patient!!! he will only truly begin to let his guard down around you over time, and he believes that you'll only find him irritating. he definitely has a big "hurt them and push them away before they hurt you", type of mentality, and when he first realizes how much he cares for you he will probably avoid you for a little

everyone knows loki loves attention, and that is no different in a relationship. he is both touch starved and touch disgusted as he doesn't want to appear vulnerable, but craves any sort of intimacy that you offer

very thoughtful, and he remembers every little detail about you. you mention how much you like a certain candy? you miraculously find those candies in your room. you tell him about an important event coming up that you're stressing about? he reminds you about it the day before. you tell him your favorite gemstone? well, you better believe that every piece of jewelry he gives you includes that gem. loki knows your favorite song, your favorite book, your favorite movie, and any and everything else about you that he deems important. you live rent free in his mind 24/7

loki loves matching with you, and he loves when you wear his signature colors. he's always complimenting you and your style, and his heart flutters a little when you ask him what he's wearing for an important event coming up so that you two can coordinate

i don't even think i can pick a love language for him, he loves giving and receiving any form of affection and you two are probably attached at the hip

HE WOULD PASS THE ORANGE PEEL TEST. loki is absolutely the type to lace up your shoes for you, making a corny joke about how he "doesn't want you falling for anyone else". he uses magic to help you a lot, and especially loves your guys' night routines

loki is nooot a morning person, and loves snuggling with you. whenever you both have to get up in the morning he's always pulling you back into bed, nuzzling into your neck and begging for "five more minutes". he's also always very groggy in the morning and won't remember most of what he does when half asleep. he's very honest as well, and says lots of sappy things whenever he's sleepy. on the rare occasion that you sleep in later than him, he loves kissing you awake and pressing kisses all over your fave!

loki naturally runs very cold, but doesn't feel cold if that makes sense. to you his skin is absolutely FREEZING, but he just feels normal. however there are times where he runs insanely hot and there is absolutely no in between. he's either freezing or burning up, and it's both a little sad and a little amusing. there are times where the cold gets to him and loki will be more clingy than usual, claiming that he needs you to warm him up. other times he will practically walk around naked, too overstimulated and hot to even touch you

loki is a lot more anxious then he seems, and will sometimes just freak out over little things when in reality its a bunch of big things piling up one after another. he never ever means to take it out on you, and even when he's reached his limit he would never hurt you, but it can still be frustrating when he gets mad at you for a simple mistake. he always apologizes and takes accountability tho, and is very careful not to hurt your feelings bc he's very afraid you'll leave him. PLEAAASEEE REASSURE HIM :((((

loki is very chatty and loves talking to you about anything and everything. from in depth psychological conversations to simple "how was your day" conversations, he just cherishes getting to be able to talk to you

nsfw

look me in the eyes and tell me he's not a switch. i definitely see him as being capable of both being a dom and a sub, and i think it really depends on your guys' moods

when he's a dom, i think loki can fluctuate on how mean or rough he is. i do see him being a more degrading or rough dom but i also think he can be a lot softer as well, and more of a pleasure dom. again, i think it all comes down to your preferences

when he's a sub, loki is definitely bratty. he loves being put in his place and getting a little roughed up, but there are also times where he just wants to relax and be taken care of. when he gets in his own head too much and is irritated after a long day he'll be a lot more pliant and willing to just let you take care of him. PLEEEASSSE praise him and pamper him when he's like this, he'll melt like putty in your hands

PRAISE + DEGRADATION!!! BOTH WAYS!!!! he absolutely has a huge praise kink and definitely praises you a looot during sex, but i also see him being a bit mean with his praise and mixing in some degrading words as well. either way he's a wonderful dirty talker and he probably has a voice kink too, considering how often he whispers in your ear (and enjoys it when you do the same).

i also think loki would be into bondage, again, both ways. theres something so delicious about seeing you tied up and squirming from just his gentle touches, but it's equally intoxicating for him to be the one tied up and denied any sort of pleasure. he gets really whiny when you don't let him touch you, and will probably start pouting and begging. tying him up is defff one of the easiest ways to break him

guys hear me out but a candle wax kink. loki is very respectful and will always ask your permission before trying something new, but he loves seeing you whimper and moan while he slowly lets a few drops of wax spill onto your smooth skin. he also will let you return the favor, and the wax often hisses and steams a bit when it hits his skin because he's so cold.

marking you is definitely very appealing to him, and it's pretty self explanatory. loki just loves marking you and being marked up by you. it satisfies his slightly possessive and jealous side, and you two always look like you've been in a fight after having sex from the number of bruises, scratches, and hickies littering your body.

another relatively self explanatory kink, but, hair pulling. he looooves it when you pull his hair while he gives you head

loki is a major tease, and he loves teasing you in public settings where you can't do much about it. it will go from subtle things like placing a hand on your lower back or caressing your thigh to whispering absolute filth in your ears and making out with you in the bathroom. he is always trying to rile you up bc he knows damn well that it will lead to a night of rough sex

we all know loki's a shapeshifter and genderfluid, so i absolutely hc that he can change his physical body to match his gender. if he's feeling more feminine, he LOVES when uou eat him out. facesitting is def something he enjoys and he loooves riding your face SOO MUCH.

loki is very vocal, he def whines and moans a lot. he isn't shy about letting you know how good he's feeling. he knows how much his voice affects you and will whisper the filthiest things in your ear between moans as you fuck him senseless

aftercare is v important to him, and whether or not he's subbing really affects how exhausted he is afterwards. if he dommed he knows he can be pretty rough and he'll run a bath for you both before getting a towel to wipe you clean and then carrying you to the tub. i also think he'd prioritize keeping you well hydrated and would get you some water and food after the bath. loki is very clingy after sex and would want you as close as possible.

when he subbed tho, it's a totally different story. loki will be a clingy mess from the moment you finish, just whining and cuddling against you the whole time. depending on how deep into subspace he is and how groggy he is, he might even cry if you try to get up (even if you're just going to get water or a towel or sum) bc he thinks you're leaving him :(. he's pretty vulnerable after subbing and will probably just lay with you for a while before coming down from his high. once he's mostly calm and cognizant, he'll def want to clean up pretty quickly. he doesn't like feeling sticky and gross and also loves bathing with you!! overall he's a lot softer after sex and generally just wants to be near to you

RAHHHH I LOVE HIM SMMM!!!! he's so silly lmao this post got sooo long 💀 i also lowkey feel like im shadowbanned or something cuz like all of my posts have been majorly flopping recently :/ maybe im just not in a lot of active fandoms idk but!!!! anyways!!!!! hope u enjoyed!!!!!!! PLEEEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS FOR MARVEL, ATSV, OR ANH OTHER FANDOM I WRITE FOR!!!

[i9messi]

Christmas miracle — Max Verstappen

Max and you were friends, but this Christmas something happens between you two.

Word count — 1,6k

note: friends to lovers!! It's romantic and highly inspired in Christmas romcoms.

masterlist

You didn't know what, but something was different during these days. You were spending your time in a small hidden village in Sweden. It was very homely, the houses were decorated and the Christmas spirit was present, even if you didn’t understand the language of the locals. Christmas was worldwide and you were someone who loved sharing and caring about others, as much as you loved these special days.

Your friend Max had invited you because he knew how much you loved this moment of the year and the need to get out of your exhausting routine. Working full-time and still a little bit depressed from breaking up with your boyfriend, your best friend thought it was the best idea so you could forget about your worries and just focus on Christmas.

“Auch!”

You complained loudly, as you felt the snowball hit the back of your head. A child had thought it was a good idea to start throwing snowballs at complete strangers, and you were the target of his prank.

“Do you want me to throw a snowball at him? I can throw one in his face, so he doesn’t bother anymore.”

You laughed, while Max looked at the child as if he was really thinking about throwing a snowball in his face.

“Don't be silly. Kids are just kids, Max. Where is your Christmas spirit?”

“I wasn't like him at his age.”

“No, but you were way worse. I remember you fighting with Charles and other kids in the karting.”

He said nothing. As you continued your walk, Max forgot about the kid and started talking about different things. To hear him speak so freely was beautiful, because now that the races had ended for a short period, it was as if his mind could disconnect from all of it.

He wasn’t the Max that everyone knew, the one who seemed to only care about winning and succeeding. No, this was the Max you knew: someone loving, caring and good friend.

You both started to shop in the small market of the village. Milk, chocolate and marshmallows. That same morning you told him that Christmas was not the same without a cup of hot chocolate and as Max never forgot anything, he decided to go shopping with you.

The old lady who was attending smiled at the reflection of both of you.

“You make a beautiful couple.”

“Oh, we’re just friends.” you and Max said at the same time, correcting the woman.

“My husband and I were only friends, and now we have been married for fifty years and have seven grandchildren. We used to say we're just friends, look at us now.”

You smiled while Max paid for everything.

“I’m happy being friends.” He said and the lady looked at him with a little mistrust.

“Now that Jultomten is coming, there is something different in the air, something magical. It’s never too late for a Christmas miracle.”

Knowing that the woman just wanted you two to say you were in love and loved each other more than friends, you both decided to just nod and leave the store. The way to your rented house was short. The children were making snowmen and throwing more and more snowballs. Luckily, this time neither you nor Max were the target of them.

Once you arrived at the house, you and Max went to your separate rooms to change clothes for something more comfortable and also to turn on the heating. Back in your pajamas, you appeared in the kitchen. Max made the hot chocolate and you took the marshmallows and put them in the cup.

Once it was done, you took seats on the sofa, right next to the fireplace.

“It tastes so good,” you said, without separating your gaze from Max's.

“I could live like this. Without caring over winning races and titles, just spending my time with my best friend in a small town.”

You smiled, Max was right. These days were so enjoyable, without caring about anything. You forgot about your responsibility, about social media and everything else. It was Max and you. You and Max. Nothing more. Life was so beautiful with you and him together.

“We could live happily together,” you joked, while taking another sip.

Something changed in Max's eyes. He suddenly became someone you couldn't read, not completely.

“Would you?”

“Live happily with you? Why not? You're my best friend.”

There was a deep silence, until he spoke. His eyes looked at you with great attention, waiting for your reaction.

“Can I be totally honest with you?”

“I always thought you were honest with me, Max.”

And he was. He was a person you could trust, because he always told you the truth. Even when it was hurtful.

“I'm in love with you.”

He spoke so low, you could hardly hear his whisper. Yet you were very sure of what you had heard. He loved you. Your best friend loved you.

“Max, what are you talking about?”

“I have loved you since the moment I knew you. For years I thought I had no chance— but look at me, risking all. I’m waiting for a Christmas miracle to happen so you’ll realize that I’ve always been there for you.”

You got up from the chair and left the hot drink on a small table.

“Max, don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.” He also stood up from his seat, repeating the same thing you had done.

His blue eyes never shined so bright. You knew him, and for so many years you learned when he was lying and when he was not. He was telling the truth, his truth.

“Why didn’t you tell me before? Why now?”

“Would it have changed things?”

He continued to speak, because you didn't know what to say.

“No, it wouldn’t have changed anything. You would have gone with that asshole who broke your heart and I would still be waiting for an opportunity… I’m not lying and I would never lie to you. I’m in love with you and it drives me crazy to think that someone so stupid could break your heart and make you cry. I would never make you cry, love.”

“Max— I need time to think.”

“Don't go.”

“I’ll be back.”

You grabbed your coat and didn’t give him time to respond, walked away. The children were still playing, but everything seemed to move in slow motion at that time. You found a seat, while tears fell from your eyes.

Suddenly, a young girl stood in front of you.

“Why are you crying?”

The good part was that the girl spoke the same language as you, the worst part was that you couldn’t blame the bad translation for not knowing how to express your feelings.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Crying is good, but my mom always tells me it’s also good to talk about the things that make us cry.”

You smiled at her.

“My best friend told me he’s in love with me.”

“So what’s the problem? I’m in love with my best friend, too.”

“How did you realize?”

Asking that to a girl who looked like she was no more than ten years old was a little pathetic, but still, you found yourself doing it.

“He is my favourite person in the whole world. I care about him being happy and his opinion is important for me. Sometimes I dream about holding his hand and about how it would be a future together. I feel butterflies in my tummy and I feel nervous he gives me attention, especially in a way that feels different from others.”

You nodded and spoke a minute later, with your heart beating so fast.

“I used to be in love with him, when I was little. I thought— I was so sure that those feelings had disappeared but now, I think they never disappeared. Not entirely.”

“You should go and talk to him, you need to tell him how you feel.”

You nodded.

“You’re right, little friend.”

You stood and looked at the girl.

“Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas to you.”

You smiled and started walking toward the house, you found Max walking fast down the streets. His face looked worried as he tried to find you among the people on the streets. His gaze met yours and some calm painted on his face, but still, he hurried to close the gap between the two.

“I was worried, you weren’t coming back and it was getting late. I know you don’t feel the same as me and…”

“Max, shut up and listen to me.”

He kept his mouth closed.

“I freaked out. When you told me that you had feelings for me, I thought everything would change between us but now that I think about it, nothing is going to change. When I was a kid, I used to think we’d be together when we grew up. I thought we’d get married and end up like all those couples I used to see when I was little. When time passed, I guess I stopped daydreaming or somehow tried to date other people, knowing that I couldn’t have you. Not like that. I searched the faces of other men, not knowing you would be here waiting for me."

He swallowed, “What do you mean?”

"Isn't it obvious? A wise person made me realize that those feelings never went away and that I still have feelings for you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want my feelings to influence the way you feel.”

“Max, I’ve never been more sure in my life. Oh, except every time I knew you were going to win the championship.”

He smiled. A genuine smile that made him look much softer than he really was.

“You are making me the happiest man.”

“Max?”

“Yes?”

“We could go home and kiss there.”

He smiled and he held your hand.

“Let’s go.”

In fact, you kissed a lot.

[genderkoolaid]

When photographer and filmmaker Grace Pickering was introduced to the work of trans activist Lou Sullivan, it completely changed their life. Born in 1951, Sullivan is thought of as the world’s first documented gay trans man – though, of course, trans people have likely been around for far, far longer. His collated diaries from 1961 – 1991, We Both Laughed in Pleasure, are a pioneering piece of queer literature, or “a radical testament to trans happiness,” as The New Yorker once put it. “Before learning about Lou, I didn’t really understand my identity,” Grace says over breakfast at the art’otel in Hoxton, East London. “He opened my mind up to the fact that so many of my own thoughts were related to my transness – that you could be a dyke fag, I think is the term. He put everything into perspective for me.” It makes sense, then, for Grace to have named their first solo exhibition after Lou’s seminal work. We Both Laughed in Pleasure, which opened last week at the art’otel, is based around a short film Grace shot of their friends and peers, in a bid to shed light on a lesser known facet of the trans experience: transmasculinity and, crucially, transmasc people whose lives are full – of joy, friendship, professional and romantic success. “I wanted to show the nuanced lives that people have,” Grace continues. “Whenever I see transmasc people represented, it’s in quite a stereotypically male way, which I know sounds quite funny. But I think being transmasc is its own thing – me and my friends identify as gay men, even though out in the world I will more than likely be treated as a woman. It’s a different culture.” Alongside the film, which was produced by Greatcoat Films and commissioned by art’otel, Grace will exhibit a series of images inspired by historical trans and nonbinary figures, such as Joan of Arc, who has often been thought of as gender non-conforming; Schuyler Bailar, the legendary openly trans swimmer; and Gladys Bentley, a Harlem musician who would regularly get thrown into jail for the way they dressed in the 1930s. ​“Gladys would play at jazz clubs and was infamous in that area,” Grace says. ​“The police would routinely raid the place and arrest them. Gladys would spend the night in a cell and come right back the next day, in their three-piece suit and top hat. And yet they’ve been historically written about as a butch lesbian, despite living as a man. I was interested in showing that.”

from Down in the dumps? Laugh in pleasure at this exhibition

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons, Part 2

Contents: pre-relationship headcanons, slow burn, pining, introvert reader, falling in love

ღ You've laid down ground rules for yourself, rules not meant to be broken, and yet you find yourself twisting them, testing their pliability, skimming along the edge of what is acceptable. Your chance meetings with Nanami at work continue, much the same as always. Sometimes you two may sit in comfortable silence. Sometimes you may speak about mundane things, or his latest mission. There seems to be an unspoken agreement that you will not ask about each other's personal lives, that you will keep the interaction impersonal and detached.

ღ Until you don't. Or rather, he is the one who asks and your hand falters over the lid of your packed lunch. He wants to know what type of sandwiches you prefer. Such a simple, innocuous question. A little strange too, since he has never asked anything directly about you before. You glance across at him and for a second, you think he looks embarrassed at having asked. You brush away the thought. Nanami never does things without a purpose. You tell him that you like the kind with smoked salmon, cheese and herbs, the one the cafeteria sells on Thursdays. He nods, as if satisfied and resumes his meal.

ღ Such a simple question, but you think it over when you reach home. Why would he ask something like that? Was it simple curiosity? You laugh out loud in the emptiness of your apartment, soft jazz music emanating from the TV speakers. You go to do the dishes and your step feels inexplicably light.

ღ You decide to ask him a question the next day. Oh, no need to be concerned, you tell yourself. You've broken none of your rules. You ignore the little doubt that tugs at your mind. You eventually ask him, rather abruptly you think, whether he likes crosswords. He considers you over the rim of his glasses before nodding slightly. He mentions that he likes the cryptic, and the particular newspaper he buys which makes the puzzle as challenging as he prefers. He goes back to working on his report, and you can't be certain (because Nanami is so difficult to read), but you think that he seems pleased.

ღ Questioning becomes routine between the two of you. You both keep the questions light at first, as if testing one another out for ... what it could be, you couldn't say. And then, he starts to ask about different things. He asks for your opinion on what a student sorcerer said to him, for your beliefs on the manner in which some of the clans operate, for your thoughts on the best way to deal with certain mission scenarios.

ღ Sometimes, you don't even get to ask your questions. He comes into the break room, carrying the weight of a full workday on his shoulders, and then he sees you and his brow clears, the corners of his mouth straightening out of their dour expression. He approaches you immediately, offering greetings, before dropping into the seat beside you with a sigh, unbuttoning his jacket and loosening his tie. He lays out for you, in his brisk, clinical manner, what occurred during the mission that day and what issues he encountered. His arm may brush against yours, he may lean closer to you, those earnest eyes of his capturing yours, as if he will not accept anything less than your complete attention. On days like these, you can't ask your questions, but you don't mind at all. You save them up, hoarded like precious gems in some long-buried den, for later.

ღ The more you question each other, the more you get to know about him. Not because of the questions themselves, no. More the manner in which he responds to them. Beneath his cut glass exterior, you realise that Nanami is a man who feels very deeply, and with conviction. He is sensitive, as you learn when you find out that he kept small mementoes of transfigured humans who never made it. He is considerate, having memorized the favourite drinks and snacks of everyone who seems to be closer to him. He is perceptive, as you learn when he offers you an extra copy he bought of his paper, having noted how curious you were about his crossword. He is gentle, as you see in his interactions with Yuuji. Your knowledge of him is a soft unfolding, perilous at the centre.

ღ You tell yourself that this is enough. That it will never go beyond this. As far as he is concerned, you may just be a trusted colleague who forms part of his daily routine, nothing more. You cast your rules in steel and then tear them out of the mould each time, turning them over in your hands, wishing you could break them apart. You have never felt weaker.

ღ And one day, he may enter the break room, pausing in the doorway, a first for him. He is always so decisive in every word and action. You may be puzzled by his hesitancy and give him your usual welcoming smile, your world already made a little brighter by his presence. You may shift your chair a little to the left, as you always do, to show him that there is always room for him at your table.

ღ Nanami takes off his glasses. There is something more open there, something warm, something that threatens all the safeguards you have set around yourself. He finally makes his way over and sinks into the chair beside you, his demeanour strangely helpless, in your eyes. He produces his phone from a pocket, looking down at it for a while before placing it carefully on the table between the both of you. Nanami tells you that he prefers to have the contact details of anyone from Jujutsu Tech who may be of importance to his work in the future. He hopes that it isn't too presumptuous, but he would greatly appreciate your contact too. The phone lies on the table, a small metal island separating two continents on the verge of collision. You take it in your hand. It is still warm from his touch.

ღ You tell yourself, as if repeating it a hundred times will make it true, that this is enough. It is enough. Enough. Enough. You whisper his name, reverently, to the ceiling of your bedroom. Kento.

ღ It is not enough. It never will be.

@tsukimefuku @actuallysaiyan @kentocalls @g-kleran

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟓𝟏

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟕𝐤

↬ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐃𝐃/𝐋𝐆 (𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝟎𝐦/𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥) 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

The buzzing of your phone on the nightstand wakes you up from your dreamless sleep and just as you're about to move around to turn your alarm off, you're reminded of the strong arm around your waist as it pulls you further into the warm chest pressed into your back.

It's only then that you remember how and who you fell asleep next to, a cheeky smile creeping up on your face as soon as the realisation hits you.

Jongseong is still in bed with you. On a weekday.

To your surprise, he's not only still in bed with you but seems to be peacefully asleep, something you're not quite used to when it comes to your hardworking boyfriend.

In the back of your mind you had hoped that he'd stay, especially after a night like yesterday's, yet for some reason you didn't allow yourself to indulge in those hopes, as you were too scared of them being empty yet again.

It doesn't take much longer for more images of the previoos nught to sneak into your head, but for the first time in your life you know you won't let them win no matter what.

You haven't fell asleep and woken up next to your boyfriend in weeks, there's no way you're going to let your anxiety and destructive brain take this away from you again.

There's so much to unpack about the whole situation about your brothers and the bodyguards, you know Jongseong will want to talk about, but you simply don't have the mental energy to waste on those men anymore. You've been fightem then alongside your mental demons for the past two decades and dor the first time in your life you just want to live a single day without thinking about them for once.

Of course this won't make them any less dangerous or threatening, but it will give you the temporary inner peace you need and mostly deserve.

So, determined to not waste any more of your energy on those stupid bastards, you let out a soft sigh and turn around in Jongseong's arms to bury your face in the crook of his warm neck, inhaling his sweet scent the way you did to fall asleep and enjoying every single second of this rare occasion.

Unfortunately you're very much aware of the fact that your second alarm is going to go off any second now as the both of you have to get ready for work.

"Jongie", you whisper against his soft skin and pull your head back to have a good look ag him, hating yourself and the universe for having to wake him up.

He hasn't slept longer than four hours ever since your trip to Jeju and you can't wait to basically kidnap him to a different city and just make sure that man finally gets the sleep him and his body need.

"Wake up, my love", you sigh and place a soft kiss on his chin, "we have to get ready for work."

The sweet sound of your voice gently pulls him into consciousness, something he has yet to get used to, especially after unintentionally depriving himself of it for so long. As your words slowly push their way through the sleepy fog in his head, Jongseong suddenly deicdes to adapt to a completely new routine just to wake up like this until his last day on this earth.

"We're both calling in sick", he suddenly grunts, his voixe deeper and raspier than usual, the sound so unfamiliar, it leaves you lightheaded and shoots a jolt of hot arousal right in between your legs.

"We can't just do that, pretty face", you say with a soft chuckle, hoping for the aching in your lower body to just disappear if you try to overplay it hard enough, "we have meetings and appointments with important clients today."

"Why not? I'm the CEO and owner of the company, they should be grateful I even considered giving them some of my precious time. They can wait a day or two."

Jay's words surprise you as much as they turn you on and you hate your body for betraying you like this. Today is probably just an exception yet you can't help but feel your hopes rising all the way to the sky.

You try to think of something to respond, but you're too mesmerized by the sight of a sleepy Park Jongseong. The way his hair is messily falling into his slightly flushed face, eyes hooded as they're getting used to the sunlight exposure, his pretty lips pushed into a cute little pout and his big hand gently caressing your back.

The longer you look at him, the more you fall in love with him and for a moment you forget whag the two of you were even talking about.

"Don't look at me like that, Baby or I'll make them wait a week or two", Jay teases softly, his hand now moving to your thigh as the other one remains underneath your waist, busy drawing random circles into your skin through the thin fabric of your camisole.

"Oh", you blurt when you realise how obviously you've been staring at him as embarrassment quickly takes over your body, "I'm sorry, Jongie, I didn't mean to. You just look really pretty when you wake up."

"My sweet little angel baby", Jay begins and pushes the bem of your camisole all the way up to your hips, exposing your bare thigh to his greedy touch so easily, "don't ever be sorry for eyefucking me with those pretty eyes. I fucking love seeing you so needy for me."

You're visible surprised at his response, forgetting that your boyfriend has always read your facial expressions as well as your bidy language quite easily and for some reason you can't help but feel even more embarrassed.

"What's going through that sweet head of yours, Baby? Why are you so hesitant?"

You nervously pull your bottom lip in between your teeth as a wave of shame overwhelms you, yet you can't really put a name on the reason behind it.

The past few weeks you've always been the one to initiate intimacy and after losing yourself in quite a few anxious thoughts the previous night, you can't help but let them win yet again.

You know Jongseong's been quite busy, nobody knows it as good as you do. However him not initiating anything these past few weeks has definitely made you feel anlot more insecure than you would like to admit, simply because it feels like he only does it for you and not because he actually wants it.

"I'm sorry for always being so needy", you whisper and bury your face in his neck, "I don't mean to push you so much."

Jongseong is flabbergasted, to say the least.

He's never expected this to be the reason for your change in demeaner and as the realisation hits him, he can't help but let okt a lighthearted chuckle.

"Oh, Baby", he sighs and reaches for your cheek to pull your face away from his neck and meet your glossy gaze, "do you really feel guilty for wanting me so often?"

"Yes", you don't hesitate with your response, too lost in the way he's looking at you with such sweetness and adoration, "you usually don't iniate intimacy and it made me realise that maybe you don't actually want me as often as I want you."

Yet again, Jongseong feels overwhelmed by your statement. Never in a million years could he have expected your thoughts to be as mean as this and as his eyes roam your soft face, his heart aches in his chest.

"And that's okay. I know I can be insatiable sometimes. I hope you know that doesn't mean I only want you for your body. You're so much more to me than sex, I just have a very high libido." Your voice is small and uncertain, filled with insecurity and self doubt, a sound so heartbreaking, Jongseong feels his chest tightening in despair.

"Come here, Baby", is the first thing your sleepy boyfriend replies before he pushes the blanket away from your bodies and guides you to straddle his lap.

You physically can't stop a tiny little gasp to leave your lips as you come in sudden contact with the hard bunge in Jong's boxer briefs, something you haven't felt this way in a lot longer than you thought.

It's not like the two of you hadn't fucked each other in the past few weeks, unfortunately there was never much time for any foreplay and it usually ended in a quickie which stilled your hunger for a few hours. Most of the time Jongseong made sure to have you fall apart on his fingers first followed by him doing just the right things with his cock to drive you into insanity. He also tried his best to give you just enough aftercare to help you regain your composure but you couldn't help but crave more. The lack of actual sensitivity in those moments was probably what resulted in your insatiable hunger for him and his touch.

Without missing a beat, you press your hands flat against his inked chest, caressing the soft skin and circling your hips without even realising it.

"My soft little angel girl", Jongseong sighs and starts kneading the soft flesh of your thighs in his hands, "I'm sorry for not talking to you about this more. Your silly little brain probably gave you such a hard time about this, didn't it?"

"Yes, Jongie", you sigh and look at him with needy, glossy eyes, a sight so pure, so beautiful, the young man has yet to get used to it's effects on his body.

"And is that the reason why you've been more hesitant about indulging in the whole Daddy thing lately, Baby?", he calmly responds as his eyes never once shift away from your face and where you feel like a kid being caught doing something they're not supposed to do, your boyfriend seems more than just amused by your responsive body language.

"I guess it is. But I promise I didn't do it intentionally."

"You're so fucking cute", is his instinctive response to your answer and with a soft sigh, you push your lips into a pout and let your hands find his on your thighs, absentmindedly playing with his pretty fingers to distract yourself from the feeling of embarrassment filling your veins.

"My Baby", Jay then begins, his voice slightly deeper as he notices the feeling of your wetness making its way through the thin fabric of your panties, "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately and I promise you to make up for every sinfle doubt and bad thought I've caused you."

You're about to interrupt his little apology and reassure him, but Jongseong doesn't let you. He's determined to say what he's been dying to for the past fourtyeight hours and no matter how badly you want him to believe that his behavior is somehow justified and okay, he knows it's not and that's why he won't allow you to intervene. Not this time.

Before your brain can even process it, you find yourself on your back, your boyfriend casually moving to lay in between your legs. Jay's face is as close to yours as physically possible and his nose gently nudges yours before he places the most delicate kiss on your parted lips.

"I haven't paid much attention to you and didn't make any efforts to actively include you into my daily routine outside of work and that wasn't okay. Yet, I hope you know that from now on that's going to change", with every single one of his words, Jay pushes you deeper into the mattress until you can practically feel his heart beating against your chest.

"No more early mornings to work out and as little long days as possible. It took me a bit but I finally realised that I am the boss and I do have the privilege to cancel and postpone appointments to make time for my girl. It won't always be like that and at times I'll be at work more than I'd like to be but at the end of the day I'm always going to try my best to come home to fall asleep with you. Not after you."

Jongseong doesn't give you enough time to actually process his sweet words as he pulls you into a hungry kiss and allows you to lose youdself in the sweet feeling of comfort and warmth it comes with.

Just as usual, Jay's kisses are slow and sensual. At first. But the harder he starts grinding his hard cock against your clothed cunt, the sloppier and needier they become. It doesn't take much time for your usually so composed boyfriend to grunt and moan into your mouth, loving the way you swallow every single one of his noises.

"And please don't ever be sorry for wanting me so often. Touching you, being intimate with you, being the one to pleasure you – and everything it comes with, is a privilege to me. Knowing you want me so much is what keeps me sane, Baby", Jay looks at you with soft eyes and just as usual, the expression in his gaze matches his words perfectly. It's like he makes sure you can physically see how honest he's being with you.

"I need it, angel girl", he suddenly grunts and buries his face in your neck, "Daddy needs you to need him, Baby. It's everything I've been daydreaming about for all my life. To be needed, wanted and loved by my person. By you. Please, don't take this away from me."

You're hearing his little pleas and his sweet, needy request, yet you're brain is already too fogged up by all the arousal rushing through your body as the tip of his clothed cock hits your sensitive clit with every single one of his precise thrusts.

"Louder, Baby", Jay suddenly commands, the urge to hear your moans and whimpers overwhelming him after the both of you had to keep quiet the last few times you've gotten intimate.

"Please, Daddy", your response comes quicker and more desperate than you expected it to, but you're simply too far gone already to care.

"What do you want, angel girl? Use those big girl words for Daddy, I know you can do it."

You start nodding like your life depends on it, your hands find home in his thick hair as Jongseong slowly kisses his way down your neck and to your cleavage, sucking the skin into his mouth every now and then right before his hands grab the hem of your camisole and pull it over your head in one swift motion.

"There she is, my perfect little angel", Jongseong sighs and comes to sit up on his knees right between your legs.

"Please, Daddy", you whimper yet again, reaching for his hands to get him to just somehow touch your needy cunt again.

You subconsciously wait dor him to scold you for not doing as you're told, however you definitely don't expect him to land a harsh spank on your clothed cunt. The stinging pain sends you into the sweetest haze of pleasure and with your head thrown back into the pillow, you struggle to build a single rational thought.

"Good girls use their words when they want something", Jay says sternly, his eyes hooded yet filled with such intense hunger, you feel your juices drip out of your clenching hole the longer you look at him.

"I need you to", you're still hesitant but quickly realise that there's no way Jong's going to give into your little insecurities now, so without wasting any more time, you blurt out the rest of your request.

"Eat my pussy", you dig your nails into his wrist as the pain of his tight grip on your inner thigh has your head spinning like crazy, "please, Daddy. I need you to eat my pussy, wanna cum all over your face."

"There you go, that's my good girl. Was that so hard, Baby?"

Jay can't help but feel amused by the sweet look of embarasin your eyes as you look at him, lips parted, hair messy, legs spread wide enough to put your drenched panties on full display for his hungry gaze.

"Don't tease me", you spit and roll your eyes in faux annoyance, followed by desperately trying to hide just how flustered you are because of the breathtakingly beautiful smirk grazing his plumps lips.

"Now, that was a mistake, pretty girl", Jay chuckles and lets his fingers graze your inner thigh right before he lands another hard spank on your sensitive pussy.

"You know I'll just tease you even more if you tell me not to."

"Daddy, please touch me. No more spanks. Need you to touch me."

For a moment you're genuinely surprised by your lack of hesitance but then again it makes sense as all your senses are captivated by Park Jongseong's sweet scent, his touche and his taste lingering on your tongue like a drug.

Jongseong doesn't say a single word until bends down to push his cheek against your inner thigh, dangerously glose to where you need him the most.

The fact you're still very much wearing your now ruined panties is definitely not helping with your impatience.

"Beg a little more, pretty girl", Jay teases and pulls the soaked fabric to the side only to blow cold air against your sensitive flesh.

"F-Fuck", you're quick to arch your back in hopes of getting him to finally do what you've asked for multiple times by now, only for Jay to pull away with another row of soft chuckles.

"Aww, look at my Baby. You're so needy, angel girl. Apparently too needy to use your manners for Daddy, hm?"

"Please", you beg softly, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes and you tighten your grip on his thick hair, "please, Daddy. I've been waiting so long for this. Don't I deserve this?"

And that little rhetorical question is what has Jongseong halt his movements like he's jusg seen a ghost.

"Of course, princess", your boyfriend whispers with tiny bits of guilt gleaming in his sweet eyes, "of course you deserve this."

If your brain wasn't as clouded by the arousal, you would have had enough time to feel bad about using such strategies to get what you want but after barely remembering what his mouth feels like on you, you can't help but feel grateful it worked. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Before either one of you can get out another word, Jongseong finally licks a long strip over the length of your soaked cunt followed by shameleslly sucking your sensitive kiss into his mouth and teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

The suddenness of his actions knock every last breath out of your lungs and with a loud gasp you push your hips further into his face, back arched and head thrown back with the loudest moan of his name.

It doesn't take much for Jongseong to completely lose himself in the sweet taste of your juices as he laps up every single drop, filling the room with loud sucking and slurping noises as well as his muffled moans the second he pushes his tongue into your tight hole.

You can tell how hard he's trying to maintain his composure but every time your gaze meets his, you realisd how far gone he already is. Eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, half of his face coated in your wetness as he digs his bails knto your soft thighs to keep your legs firmly spread for his hungry mouthy.

With every skill flick of his tongue against your hardened clit, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to the edge, the taste of your sweet relief coating the entirety of your mouth and consuming your senses in the best way possible.

Not a single coherent sentence falls past your lips as the tension in your lower stomach increases and you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

"Do it, princess", Jay suddenly grunts and lifts his hand up to land a row of hard slaps against your overly sensitive pussy, the stinging pain sending your brain into overdrive and your eyes into the back of your head.

"I can feel it, you're so close. Come on, cum for Daddy, Baby. Make me proud. Claim me as yours. Cum all over my fucking face like rhe perfect princess you are."

And maybe it's the way his deep voice so close to your cunt sends vibration through your body or maybe it's the way his thumb has made it its mission to rub firm circles into your sensitive clit or maybe, just maybe it's the way he's tamking to you, but regardless of the reason, the coil kn your lower stomach still snaps as soon as your brain has processed his words.

Your high washes over you in several waves, pussy clenching down around nothing as Jay has long taken his fingers out of your tight hold to watch your juices drip out of you as you cum for him. It takes you a moment to realise that your sight has blurred and you feel your ears ringing from the intensity of your orgasm, something you've only ever experienced with Park Jongseong before and have yet to get used to.

You have absolutely no idea how much time goes by until your breathing finally goes back to normal and when your eyes meet the sighg of your boyfriend's habdsome face still firmly buried in your pussy, you nnow exactly why it took you as long as it did.

"Up here, Daddy", you pout and push your hand into his hair to grab a fistful of the thick strands and make him look at you, "can you fuck me now, please? I need to feel you fill me up with your cum so bad."

Jay smiles lazily, still quite drunk on the taste of your cum on his tongue as he's missed it a lot more than he expected. He hasn't had time to eat you out for who knows how long and it's when you look at him with big eyes and parted lips thag he decides to make it part of his new daily routine.

Not a day shall pass by where he doesn't eat rhe sweetest pussy he's ever had or he'll be dammed.

"Sorry, Baby", he sighs and absentmindedly pulls his boxer briefs down his thick thighs, revealing his painfully hard cock to your hungry eyes, "missed eating that pussy to much so i got a little dizzy. Don't think I'll last as long as usual so I might need some help."

You nervously start nibbling on your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue, the excitement bubbling and boiling in your loser tummy as your cunt clenches in response to the throbbing of his cock in his hand.

"Be a good girl for Daddy and rub that pretty clit for me, hm? Wanna cum with you this time but I'm so sensitive already. It's been so long since I've had you like this, Baby."

"Yes, Daddy, anything for you."

Your sweet words of affirmation elicit the sweetest moan from your boyfriend's throat and you attentively watch the way his hips halt their movements for a moment in response to you.

To your luck, Jay seems a lot more impatient than he claimed as he's quick to rub the tip of his sensitive cock against the wet flesh of your cunt, coating his whole length in your juices right before he lines himself up with your entrance.

"Look at Daddy, pretty girl", Jong grunts and pushes his tip inside of your tight hole just enough to reach for your free hand and intertwine your fingers with his, while his other one finds his way around your delicate throat.

"I love you", are the first tjing to leave his plump lips the second he pushes ghe first two inches of his thick cock into the tightness of your pussy, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as soon as you start clenching around him.

"Relax, angel girl. We still have a few more inches to. Daddy needs you to relax so it doesn't hurt, yeah? Be good for me, Baby."

You start nodding impatiently, almost instinctively rubbing firm circlers into your sensitive bundle of nerves the way your biyfriend did it just a few minutes ago, knowing exactly how you like it and how to get yourself to the edge as fast as possible again.

Your body slowly gets rid of the last bit of tension when Jongseong bends down to press his lips against your, not caring about how soft or sweet the kiss is, but rather focusing on the taste of your spit coating the muscle of his tongue.

By the time he finally bottoms out, you can feel your breath hitching in your throat, the feeling of being filled to the absolute brim overwhelming you just as usual.

"So fucking tight", Jay whimpers into your ear, not awake or sober enough to care about the way he sounds, "you're going to make me cum so hard, Baby. Fuck, I won't last l-long, I'm sorry."

"No, Daddy, don't be", you're quick to reassure your boyfriend, pulling on his hair and öoving your hips to meet his little thrusts, appreciative of the way he's still giving you time to adjust to his impressive size, "am close already, too. Wanna cum with you, please."

"Yeah, Baby? Gonna make a mess of Daddy's cock and cum all over me like the good girl you are, right? Go ahead then, angel girl", Jongseong's voice grows raspier, deeper and more hoarse as the pleasure and meed for relief overwhelms his whole body in the best way possible, "cum for me. Claim your man. Show me what only you get to do with my cock."

It's those exact words which push you over the edge headfirst the second time wighin just a few minutes. Jay always knows exactly what to say, he knows how possessive you are and how much yoj love claiming him. Hearing him confirm your thoughts and wants so casually never fails to leave yoj completely breathless.

And as your tight cunt starts spasmkng around his iverly sensitive cock, Jongseong quickly buries his face in your negk with a loud moan of your name right as he cums in three thick spurts and coats the soft walls of your cunt in several shades of white.

Nothing but your joined heavy breathing and the thrumming of your heartbeat in your throat fills your ears for a good five minutes, Jong's cock occasionally twitching inside of you before the sensitivity becomes too much for the both of you and he decides to pull out with a soft pout on his plump lips.

You allow yourself to devour the sight of his flushed skin, from his cheeks all the way down to his lean chest covered in the prettiest shade of pink, his messy hair falling into his face and reminding you both of his need of a haircut.

"Shower or some more sleep?" Jay mumbles softly againsg dour lips and pushes the few strands of hair away from your pretty face to get a better look at you.

"We have to go to work, Daddy", you reply instead and earn youeself another roll of his eyes.

"Your boss doesn't feel very well so he wants you to cancel all of his appointments for today. He said he needs to have some one on one time with his beautiful girlfriend or he'll actually die in agonising pain."

His exaggeration has you both burst into a fit of laughter and without even thinking of protesting any further, you just pull him into your chest and enjoy the feeling of his breathing against your neck as you both allow yourself to take a whole day off of your regular routine.

Being girlfriend and boyfriend for a whole day and nothing but that.

Just this once.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞��𝐭 →

(A/N: and here we are 🤪 i know you guys probably expected smth else after the prev chap was sp emptional but i missed writing smut for them so ive been thinking about it all day and wanted to give this to you guys as 1) a little thank you for all the love ln strictly business and 2) as a was to apologize for all the heart reak in future chapters!🤕 thank you so much for everything babies, i love you so much. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!!💞🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @jseongies @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight

[yeonmuse]

Too Soft | Kim Sunwoo

PAIRING | Sunwoo X Neighbor

WORD COUNT | 2.8k

GENRE smut

SUMMARY in which Sunwoo gets reaquainted with his high school crush, and happens to stumble across her in the middle of her self care routine

MORE | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️ requested, oral, masturbation , pillow fucking , sub Sunwoo, sexual tension, dom reader

The day had finally come, your first day of university and you were already annoyed and overly exhausted. Rather than make your life easier by staying in a dormitory you thought it to be a good idea to just rent your own house in town so that you wouldn’t have to share the space with anyone else. It went without saying that you valued not only the peace and quiet, but you value your privacy. So there you sat in the lecture hall leg crossed over the other trying to massage the kinks out of your neck.

“Seem like you could use some help?’’ as you opened your eyes and gazed up at the owner of the voice you were somewhat taken aback to see none other than Kim Sunwoo standing there, eyebrows raised with an amused grin on his face. Suwoo had been one of your Juniors in high school, he had confessed to you time and time again , but you had always rejected him for the sole fact that he did that with half the girls at school. The only difference that there had been now was he had significantly grown up, in contrast to his once soft and boyish exterior he now looked far more manly and well put together, even his aura had been far different from back then.

“If it isn’t Kim Sunwoo, all grown up.’’ You respond, ignoring his undertone provocation of a comment.

“You haven’t changed a bit, though it looks like you’ve grown prettier.’’ His eyes scanned over your frame as if he had been memorizing every inch of you, capturing a photo with his eye.

“Mm is that right? Even now you’ve got a little thing for me.’’ you tease, slight amusement in your voice, though it didn’t seem to faze him like it would back then, or at least that's what you thought.

Sunwoo leans over his eyes gazing into yours and you could see him falter for a moment, his eyes flickering momentarily from your eyes down to your lips.

“Will you really continue to treat me like I'm just your junior.’’ he spoke, both his arms resting on each side of you from the opposing side of the lecture table.

“Will you really continue to keep up with your little crush from high school? Are you sure there aren't five other girls waiting for a confession from you? After all it was always easy to make your heart flutter back then.’’ You respond leaning in closer to him, closing the space between the two of you.

Sunwoo hated it, he hated that you weren’t even the slightest bit fazed, hated that no matter how long it had been since he had seen you still held complete power over him. His lips part as he opens them to speak but he’s interrupted by the other students flooding into the lecture hall and he’s quick to back away, leaving an amused smile on your face. After the lecture you hadn’t seen him again on campus, though that didn’t mean you wouldn’t see him at all that day. You returned home after your lectures and as you stepped out of your car to a bunch of loud screaming you look over to the yard parallel to yours only to find a group of guys kicking around a soccer ball, your eyes scanned each of them for a moment finding each of them attractive, but that was when your eyes landed on none other than Kim Sunwoo, and his eyes locked with yours. The others seemingly realized that their other player had now been distracted and so each of their eyes fell upon you, each of their gazes following you as you made your way inside. Throwing your bag onto the living room floor you plopped down onto the couch with a sigh. Today had been quite boring to say the least, but of course there wasn’t much to expect on your first day. Pushing yourself up from the couch you had been on your way to the kitchen when a knock on the door stopped you midway, pulling the door open and you peek outside only to see Sunwoo and two other guys standing on the other side. Sunwoo seemed to be looking elsewhere, you weren’t sure if it was because of what had happened between the two of you earlier or if he was just trying to look cool in front of who you assumed to be his friends.

“Hey, you’re yn right?’’

“Depends on who’s asking?’’

“I’m Eric, this is Haknyeon and I’ve been told you already know Sunwoo, we meant to introduce ourselves yesterday when you first moved in, but Sangyeon thought it would be a better idea to just let you rest and meet you today, we’re actually throwing a party tonight with just a few of us and wanted to invite you, it’ll just be a few of us from campus.’’

“A party hm? What time is this party?’’

“Starts at eight, though you’re welcome to come any time you’d like since you’re right next door.’’

“I’ll be there.’’ you respond, your gaze momentarily switching from Eric to Sunwoo wh still refused to look at you.

Once they were gone your course changed from the kitchen to your bedroom, eight o'clock, that meant you had two hours to shower and find something to wear. By the time you had gotten out of the shower you could already hear the music next door. Of course you should have known when you’re given a set time for a college party the party would never actually start at the given time. You took over an hour to get ready, though it paid off because the moment you made your way next door a few gazes fell on you. Usually you weren't exactly the type for the party scene, but these were your university years so why not enjoy every experience, The moment you entered the house you were greeted by loud music and Eric's yelling, the party seemed very chaotic to say the least, both the upstairs and downstairs full of bodies, there had been nowhere to escape to, even the backyard had been full. As you stepped out back the music somewhat quieted down, your eyes scanned the scene, the pull full of foam and suds, the surrounding pavement crowded. Needless to say you were unsure why you had even agreed to come at first, you didn’t really know any of them and you and Sunwo hadn’t seen each other since graduation, but as you started to loosen up and get to know a few of them you began to enjoy yourself. The only mistake you had made that night was having overestimated your alcohol tolerance. By the time the night was winding down you had turned into a completely different person, opposite to your usual nonchalant and quiet attitude you were far more daring and flirty after having downed shot after shot. Feeling the heavy presence of the alcohol you decided to step away from the party, stumbling your way up the stairs and into the first bedroom you could enter you shut the door and plop down onto the bed. Twenty minutes had gone by and you were of course still feeling the shots, but you were at least functioning better. You were finally able to look around and take in the essence of the room, while the room gave off a very manish male dormitory, the few sanrio plushies scattered along the bed and floor were a complete contrast. You couldn’t help but wonder which roommates' room it was. If you hadn’t found out that Chanhee and a few others lived in the house down the street from yours and this one, you’d have guessed it was his. As you continued to observe the door swung open and for a moment the music got louder before it faded out again.

As you turned around you were faced by sunwoo who seemed stuck in place as he found you standing in his room.

“Oh? I should have known this a your room, you were always the soft type.’’ you teased as you lifted a one of the many hangyodon plush from the floor and held it in your arms, Sunwoo didn't even question the fact while you had been in his room, he was more annoyed by your comment.

“Soft type?” he scoffs and pokes at the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“Mhm, soft that’s what i said.’’ you respond absentmindedly as you paid no mind to him standing only a few feet away, you simply observed the plush you held in your hand.

“You really haven’t changed at all, still treating me as if i’m your Junior that followed you around like a lost puppy all because he liked you.’’

“Liked?” you laugh as you finally draw your attention from the plush and gaze at him, the moment your gaze fell onto him he froze, there was a fire that burned in them that he wanted nothing more than to get burned by.

“Are you sure you still don't like me, Kim Sunoo? Will you really stand here and act like you don’t have a thing for me?’’ as you inched closer and closer to him he could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

Finally you closed the space between the two of you and you could sense his body tense as he looked at you.

“I think I have my answer.’’ with an amused grin on your lips you place the plush in his hands before walking away. The rest of the night Sunwoo found himself distracted, distracted by the thoughts of you in his room, lying on his bed, his lips on your skin. God he was so pathetic, all he could do was watch you the entire night that you danced and had a good time with his own roomates.By the time the part had ended and you and everyone else had gone home he was left frustrated, irritated enough to the point that even a cold shower couldn’t bring him down from his thoughts. What made matters even worse was that he had a direct glimpse into your bedroom from his window, which meant he received a perfect view of your frame sprawled out on the bed, legs apart fingers buried deep inside of your cunt. He stood there frozen in place the entire time, watching the way your mouth fell open and your body trembled as your orgasm came pooling over you. Even as you finished and disappeared from view only for the lights to go dark moments later, he stood there his heart thumping out of his chest.

It went without saying that the entire scene put him in a daze, his ears ringing as he played it over and over again in his head. His breathing grew heavy as he plopped back down onto the bed, releasing the towel that had been wrapped around his waist. With the picture of you in mind he spits into his hand before tugging his length up and down slowly.

“Fuck.”He muttered to himself as he continued to jerk off, thinking about how it would feel to have your lips wrapped around him. The sound of your moans as his tugs at your hair and forces you to take back all the things you said about him.

He could feel himself getting more desperate at the thought of having you in his bed. Having you mark his skin, and him doing the same to stake his claim. He was so desperate to feel you wrapped around him that his hand wasn’t enough he ached for you.

He gets up on his knees and grabs the nearest pillow on his bed, letting a whimper spill from his lips followed by a frustrated huff as he slowly inserts his cock between the sheets and his pillow.

“Fuck you feel so good yn” He mumbles to himself as he continues to roll his hips into the soft fabric, imagining your naked body beneath him covered in nothing but sweat, tears, and bruises from him. He must have looked so pathetic right now pretending you were beneath him like this even after your countless rejections and teasing.

“Mm you look so pretty” He grunts, imagining your eyes shimmering, and your mouth hung open as he continued to fuck you. Your mouth is stuffed with your wet panties as he makes you squirm in place. He had been going crazy; he was nearly there until a knock at the door interrupted him, making him jump from his bed. It was then that he heard Kevin's voice on the other side of his bedroom door.

“Sunwoo yn is here. She said she forgot her phone in your room. I'm sending her up.”

The moment he heard your name he panicked. His eyes shot over to the pillow on his bed and he rushed into his closet to throw something on. There was then another knock on the door and your sweet vibe could be heard on the other side. Sunwoo winced at the ache in his crotch from not having gotten to finish, as he makes his way over to the door he couldn’t even meet your eyes as he opened it and lets you in.

“Uh do you know where you left it?” He asks, avoiding your gaze as he watches you enter and closes the door.

“In my bedroom.” You respond casually as you make your way over to the window.

“What- Kevin said-“

“Mhm, I told him I did.” You respond tilting your head as you peek out his window and into your own.

“Did you enjoy it? Watching me?” At your words Sunwoo went silent and immediately froze in his spot.

“What-?”

“You thought I didn't see you right? Watching me from your window? At first I was going to stop but then I thought why should i I’m in my own room…you’re the pervert looking at me through my window.”

“I wasn't trying to..i didnt mean to-“

“To watch me touch myself? To fantasize about me? That’s what you did after right? Fantasized, that I was under you? That you were fucking me.” He didn't even have to say anything for you to know it was true, you could tell by the way his body tensed.

“Tell me, what did you imagine doing to me?” You spoke softly making your way over to his bed and taking a seat.

Your eyes burned into his sending his thoughts into a frenzy, you were sitting on his bed, eyes gazing at him as if you wanted him in the way he wanted you.

“Not gonna tell me should I go home?”

“No! I mean-“

“Speak pretty boy.”

“I want to fuck your pretty face, to feel your lips wrapped around me, to see you looking up at me as if I’m the only one you see.” He responds finally, bringing a grin to your lips.

“Come here.” You ordered and he immediately obliged

He was surprised by how quick you moved, you forced his sweats and boxers down without any form of hesitation.

“You poor thing, didn’t even finish.” You tease him, before clicking your tongue. His eyes were glued to you even as he watched your hand wrap around his cock and your thumb brush over the tip of it. His breath caught in his throat and he winced, he had already been sensitive from his actions earlier. His eyes widened and his head fell ban almost instantaneously as you engulfed him entirely. The wetness of your throat and plumpness of your lips forced him to screw his eyes shut.

He was pulled out of his momentary high as the feeling disappeared and he looked down to find that you had stopped.

“There we go, you wanted to watch right? So keep your eyes on me or I’ll stop the Sun.” He hated the way you batted your pretty eyes at him even while having him this vulnerable.

“Will you keep looking? Will you be a good boy?” His eyes had slightly dissociated upon hearing those words from you. You received a nod from him and as you once again took him in your eyes were glued on his making sure he watched you the entire time.

“Holy- shit.” The view was so intoxicating, the view of your pretty eyes staring up at him as your throat was full of him. The way your tongue swirled and slithered around him it was obvious you knew what you were doing. He was a complete mess. Rather than him being in control you had him completely wrapped around your finger.

His jaw clenches, watching you nodding your head furiously at his proposal. His grip on your hair tightens further. He lets out a guttural moan as he explodes inside your mouth. He was left breathless and completely entranced as he watched you seperate your lips from him with a loud pop, a string of saliva being the only wavering connection. His chest heaves deeply as he tries to catch his breath.