#can you tell i’ve been writing them recently
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royalthorned · 4 months ago
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thinking about the carrow twins and their joined morality and cleanliness. how after every battle they would clean each other and explain what they had done. how they had to clean the other of their sins to feel guiltless. how their innocence and depravity floated between them in an entangles mess.
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deathbyobiwan · 8 days ago
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wip folder game
rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.
thanks for the tag @mutteringretreats1!
most of the names of my wips are complete nonsense lmao (and i dread to think how little time i’ve dedicated to them recently) but here they are:
Anakin Skywalker Doesn’t Care
vampires am i right
the obi-waney
pirates feat. evil obi-wan
les mis au les mis au
and may all our denials come true
no spoilers but half of these are classics related 😶
no-pressure tagging (i have no idea who’s done this before i’m sorry!): @cottonraincoat @usakostar @greyghoulclub @heretolurkandnothingmore @mererauder
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andro-dino · 1 year ago
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Question 4 for all your mains but if the answer isn’t going to church I’ll smite them all down with my holy might
does the existence of beyblade moses imply beyblade bible and therefore beyblade Christianity? fun icebreaker questions to ask your friends
anyways
4. What’s a typical Sunday like for them?
the specification of Sunday immediately makes me think like, lazy relaxation day, so that’s kinda how I took these
Axyl and Zhouxing: I think both of them have a habit of naturally waking up pretty early, so even if they try to sleep in, they’re both typically up before 10 am. Axyl just because he’s a light sleeper with a rigid internal alarm but for Zhouxing, it’s because beylin temple days start real bright and early and as he actually tries to keep up with training more later on, this gets ingrained into schedule against his will. As a rest day for both of them, I think both of them just spend it very cozy and lazy, but in different ways. Axyl stays in bed for like several hours after waking up while Zhouxing is right up and at em with his morning routine. Mayhaps they go out together to get breakfast once axyl’s up. Zhouxing likes to be socially active and go out all the time but axyl prefers to stay home, so they might be doing different things on a day like that, but the one thing that’ll keep Zhouxing in is if axyl’s cuddling with him, bc then it’s like when you get trapped when a pet lays on top of you and gets comfy and you don’t wanna get up and disturb them. He doesn’t mind this though <3
Essi and Selen: Essi likes to get everything done in the morning to get it all out of the way and have the rest of the day to relax. She does a morning workout and does a bunch of household chores, meanwhile Selen sleeps in bc she’s a princess and likes to take it as a self care day whenever she gets the opportunity to relax. Luckily for her, Essi’s always willing to help out with whatever she needs so she doesn’t have to worry too much about that. She’s like a little border collie who always wants to have a job to do and can never relax unless she feels busy so she’s always happy to run errands or do chores for Selen as well. I think she makes fancy coffee for them both and listens to Selen talk about whatever she wants and it’s very cozy and sweet and they love each other dearly <3
Juno and Kite: ourghhh the silliests ever,,,,, I think they’d mostly just use it as like a parallel play kind of day. Juno spends her time baking and makes the whole place smell like sweet treats while Kite does his research n stuff on his computer <3 perhaps they go out n take eight to the skate park together and just have a nice little outing enjoying each others company. If they bump into anyone while they’re out I imagine juno chats politely and kite is like a little kid who just wants to go home. They get to enjoy some sweet treats together when they do 🫶
Ryoma and Victoria: something I’ve been thinking about recently with them is the idea that both of them are kind of rigorous and don’t take care of themselves as much as they should at first but for different reasons. Victoria comes mostly from her having the impulsiveness and drive that comes with being an adventurer and a blader, though Ryoma is both because he’s a blader but also kind of feels this expectation to always push himself beyond his limits to the most rigorous degree and doesn’t really give himself much care because of that. So I think once they’re in a relationship, Victoria starts being more conscious of this trait that both of them have and starts focusing on trying to get Ryoma to do more self care/relaxing stuff with her, both bc they need to do that and also as part of the process of breaking down his walls, and eventually later in life this ends up becoming an ingrained part of their routine. I like to think that maybe they do a lot of yoga/meditation type stuff specifically. Victoria passes this onto Sakyo too when he’s old enough to not fall over on his face doing it.
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joelsgoldrush · 5 months ago
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“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k
worst!logan howlett x f!reader
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SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.
A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.
** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.
*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)
**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)
special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever
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The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.
Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.
Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 
Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 
Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.
The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 
You:
cutie patootie alert
there’s this really handsome guy at the bar
i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before
i think i’m in love with him
my night just got a 100% better
Allison:
age
what does he look like
is he bald?
You:
he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here
brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 
i didn’t stare at him for too long
otherwise that would’ve been very weird
and no he’s not fucking bald
that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 
Allison:
so you’re dating retired now
get it grandma!
You:
oh fuck you allison 
Allison: 
it’s okay girl we all have our flaws
just make sure it’s nobody’s father
wait it’s not mine right?
You:
nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it
Allison:
bitch 
Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.
“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.
The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”
Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”
Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 
Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”
The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.
“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”
Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 
“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”
Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.
“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 
“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”
(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)
He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”
“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 
“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 
You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.
“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”
Yeah… that you knew.
It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.
As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.
“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.
“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”
“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”
For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”
“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.
“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”
His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”
“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”
“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”
“Look, Wolvie. I–”
“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”
“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”
You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.
Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”
The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”
“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”
“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”
A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”
“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”
“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”
“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”
Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”
“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”
“Me neither.”
“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”
You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”
Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”
But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.
(But you aren’t.)
His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”
“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”
Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”
“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”
“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”
As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.
What the fuck had just happened?
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“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”
She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”
You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”
After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.
Your savior complex strikes again!
It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 
Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”
Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.
“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”
“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”
“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”
“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”
You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”
“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”
“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.
Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.
“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 
“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?
“You sure?”
“Affirmative.”
“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”
“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.
“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”
“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”
Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”
Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.
“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”
Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”
“What? No.”
“Why not? She’s cute.”
Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.
Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”
“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.
After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”
You could die at peace.
“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”
“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”
“Now why would you think that?”
“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”
“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.
“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”
“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”
“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.
He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”
His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”
This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”
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You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.
Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”
You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”
“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 
Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”
“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”
“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”
Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”
“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”
“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”
“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”
When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”
“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 
Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”
“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”
From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”
“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”
“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”
“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”
“Go fuck yourself, will you?”
“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”
Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?
Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.
“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.
You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”
Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”
You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”
He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?
“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”
He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 
“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”
You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”
The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”
“I just... I want to understand you better.”
“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”
He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.
“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”
“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”
The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 
Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”
Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”
But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”
Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”
You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”
He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”
“Should I give you some space?”
That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”
“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”
“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”
“God, do you ever shut up?”
You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.
“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 
“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”
“Am I that easily replaced?”
“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”
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Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.
Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.
He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?
It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.
Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?
“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.
“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”
The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 
“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”
“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”
You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.
“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”
“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”
“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”
“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”
“Careful.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”
You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”
His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”
“Get your hands off her.”
Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 
“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”
“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”
Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 
The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”
“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.
“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.
“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.
“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”
“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”
The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”
Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”
“Don’t. Now is not the time.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.
Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”
You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”
“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”
“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”
His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”
“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”
You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 
“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”
In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.
“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”
“Right here? On the counter?”
“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”
“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”
“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.
“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”
“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”
“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”
“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”
His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“L-logan–”
“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”
You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”
With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 
“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”
He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 
“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”
“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”
Who had given him a damn script for this?
The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.
Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”
And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.
“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”
You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”
“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”
Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”
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part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
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fading-event-608 · 3 months ago
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Recently the syndicate of chemists in Lebanon has issued a statement warning people to not go near the blast sites due to alleged use of depleted uranium by Israel. (link - you need to scroll till the statement in Arabic). The screenshot of their statement on twitter was shared here on Tumblr and I’ve seen multiple people expressing scepticism regarding the source. Some people linked an article (link) from anti-Hezbollah 'democratic' newspaper 'L’Orient Today' to ‘fact-check’ - because of course they can’t read Arabic and are discontent with a twitter link.
This is my short summary of the article: they confirm that Israel has used Depleted Uranium (DU) weapons, not only in Lebanon but also in Gaza in June of this year and between October and December of last year. They establish a history of the use of Depleted Uranium, and include examples of its use in Iran in 2003. Israel doesn't directly talk about their use of DU, but neither are they hiding it - because there is no law that forbids the use of these bombs by Israel, there is no treaty regulating the use of DU weapons. There were several resolutions calling for a moratorium on the use of DU weapons in the UN and EU Parliament, the latest of which was in 2022, but these have failed to stop their use (those who have used them also includes both Russia and Ukraine). The article ends with an ominous addition that the Israeli army has been found guilty multiple times of using white phosphorus, which IS prohibited against civilians or civilian property under international law. (You probably can already tell that their defense is that they do not use it against civilians)
There is another article that was published in early September this year - LINK - I highly encourage you to read this one yourself, as it is quite short, especially when considering the amount of information it contains. As this one is more easily accessible, I won’t summarize it - please take it in yourself. I will say, however, that this article’s author, one Dr. Busby, worked with colleagues to conduct several investigations into the use of uranium-based weapons in both Lebanon and Gaza. In 2006, Dr. Busby asked his colleague to collect multiple samples from a crater left by what was suspected to be Depleted Uranium weapons. Samples from an ambulance air filter were also taken. Dr. Busby and company found not only the  presence of depleted uranium but also of Enriched Uranium. Here’s the paper: link.
Enriched Uranium. In 2006.
By 2024, all of the laboratories that Dr. Busby had used to Conduct the investigation have closed their doors either to him or in general. Busby’s letters to the UN, as well as papers detailing evidence of the use of enriched and depleted uranium are either dismissed or ignored, rendering it unlikely that there will ever be the “official” source for these claims that certain people now see fit to demand. And even if the UN did accept those letters and did push for ban of those weapons - would Israel comply? Genocide is ‘illegal’ under international law, and Israel still faces the case in ICJ, but what will that ICJ do if they rule that Israel is guilty? What would UN do if they accept evidence of Israel using uranium-based weapons? Scold them and write a fine?
The aspect of the deployment of nuclear weapons considered the most horrific is - and has always been - the fallout. The idea that all nuclear weapons would leave evidence - again, fallout - behind was born into the cultural consciousness through various cold war era PSAs, as well as other media inspired by these horrors, potential and otherwise. The weapons Israel is using here do not create fallout, however. But do not mistake them as harmless - they are still highly carcinogenic. They cause birth defects, as well as various other illnesses - mysterious illnesses, or at least mysterious until doctors attempting to treat them register that their patients have been exposed to enriched uranium, after which point the mystery goes away. 
In a sense, the horrors advertised by cold war PSAs and films like Doctor Strangelove, the promise of some explosive end brought about by some fool in the US pushing the wrong button - these serve to draw a veil over the continued use of nuclear weapons that have been ongoing since this technology was first harnessed for violence. This is a severe danger to the people of Gaza, and we can’t ignore it simply because we have developed in our minds too much faith in the loosest understandings of nuclear warfare.
I think many of you are familiar with a boiling frog story. The story goes that if you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will try to climb out. But if you put it in warm water and very slowly heat it, it will be so accustomed to the temperature it will eventually be boiled alive. It’s not very authentic, of course - in reality the frog will try to jump out as soon as it deems the water temperature uncomfortable. Just like you would try to get out of the bathtub as soon as it gets too hot for you or try to warm yourself up when you spend too much time outside in winter. 
But some of it still rings true. At what point will the UN, or ICJ, or some other white savior wannabe decide that Israel has done too much? What is that ‘too-much’ point that makes them try to protest, and what would that protest be?
As in case with Tumblr, it seems that the boiling point, in fact, has already passed and people grew accustomed to deaths of Palestinians. There are thousands of posts about the situation in Gaza, and the whole Palestine, Lebanon, Yemen, Syria… They get a lot of attention by both zionists and Palestine supporters. There are also hundreds of Gazans that came to Tumblr in hopes to escape the genocide by asking people to cover evacuation and survival costs. Do they get the same attention? Barely. Arguably zionists are more invested in interacting with those posts - they mass report them and harass Palestinians. And even if the fundraiser post gets a lot of attention, it does not necessarily translate into a lot of donations - people just assume that someone else will donate instead of them.
You can’t stop Israel all by yourself. You can’t convince the UN or try to progress the ICJ case by yourself. You can, however, do small acts that will contribute to Palestinian resistance. Go protest, go boycott, and please, please, please, go donate to Palestinian fundraisers.
Falastin’s family are under constant threat in Gaza. She’s been fundraising to save them since late June, and yet they’ve only recently gotten to just over 5% of their total goal - a little short of $10,000 USD. They’re still in Gaza, and still in need of funds for survival. The longer they are trapped there, the more they need - not just for food and water, but also for medicine, shelter, and clothes. Each time they’re displaced, due to inadequate time to pack, they lose more supplies, and their needs increase. Give what you can so that they can survive this, and please share their fundraiser as much as you’re able regardless of whether you can donate, just in case someone you know might be able to help. Not just here on Tumblr, on other social media, talk to your friends, coworkers, family, in group chats and in discord servers.
Please keep in mind conversion rates before donating:
10$ = 103 SEK
25$ = 260 SEK
50$ = 519 SEK
100$ = 1,038 SEK
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flwrstqr · 5 days ago
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( 日语 ) : YOUNG & BEAUTIFUL ୨୧ RICHBOY ENHYPEN
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── 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⸝⸝ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿.
‎ ‎ ✶ 𝐀𝐂𝐓‎ ‎𝐈 : enhypen + fem!r 1OOOwc ⟡​ fluff oneshots headcanons ࿁ them being bad down for you, skinship, petnames. && 【 VOGUE 】
��니 : i know i haven't been active recently TT,, but richboy enhypen has been killing me.. i needed to write one > < esp i watched gilmore girls again HAHA
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 he leans lazily against his sleek black sports car, designer suit jacket slung over his shoulder, a cocky grin tugging at his lips as he watches you approach. “took you long enough, princess,” he drawls, his voice dripping with charm, every word deliberate, meant to fluster. he gestures to the car behind him. “thought i’d save you from walking. can’t have you scuffing those pretty shoes, now, can we?” he tilts his head, a strand of his perfectly styled hair falling into his eyes, and you swear he does it on purpose. “don’t look so surprised, sweetheart. i told you, anything you want, it’s yours. the car? the view? me?” his smirk deepens, and you can’t tell if it’s confidence or desperation, but the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing that matters—makes your heart race. “so, what’ll it be?”
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 “you like that one, angel?” jay’s smooth voice cuts through your thoughts as you admire the dress on display, your fingers brushing over the delicate fabric. you glance at him, shaking your head quickly. “it’s pretty, but i have something like it at home—” you don’t even finish before he’s already signaling for the sales associate. “wrap this one up, and the matching shoes, too.” your eyes widen, and you grab his arm. “jay, no, i don’t need it—” he turns to you, one brow raised, a small smirk playing on his lips. “need? baby, you don’t need it. you deserve it.” he leans closer, his cologne making your head spin, and whispers, “actually, let’s not stop there. pick out anything else you like. or better yet,” he gestures to the store, “we’ll just take it all. you’re too gorgeous to settle for less.”
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 “you’re staring again, babe,” jake teases, his golden smile practically lighting up the entire party. he leans casually against the marble counter, holding a glass of champagne like it’s an accessory to his already-perfect outfit. “don’t flatter yourself,” you retort, rolling your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. he takes a slow step closer, his cologne wrapping around you like a second skin. “oh, but i live for your attention,” he quips, tilting his head. “besides, how could i not show off when i’ve got the most beautiful person here by my side?” he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours effortlessly, and leans in. “admit it,” he murmurs, his smirk growing, “you love when i’m like this. don’t you, sweetheart?”
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon leans casually against the pool table, his sharp jawline accentuated by the dim lighting. "alright, angel," he smirks, the cue stick spinning lazily in his hands, "if i sink this eight ball, you owe me a kiss." your cheeks burn at the audacity, but before you can retort, he turns to his opponent, tossing a crisp stack of bills onto the table. "and for you? $500 says i win this." the room buzzes with drunken hollers, his confidence drawing all eyes. "don’t look so nervous, baby," he teases, voice low enough to make your knees weak, "just be ready for that kiss." and when the eight ball rolls into the pocket with precision, his victorious grin makes your heart do flips. "told you, sweetheart."
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 “i knew this color would look perfect on you,” sunoo murmurs, his voice soft but teasing as he stands behind you, the silky fabric of the dress brushing against your skin. his fingers, cool and delicate, find the zipper, and he pulls it up slowly. your reflection in the mirror catches his gaze, his eyes sparkling with pride as he admires his choice on you. “see? you’re a masterpiece, angel,” he coos, resting his chin on your shoulder, his hands lightly grazing your waist to adjust the fabric. “now, let’s go turn some heads,” he grins,spinning you around. “but remember, i’ll be the only one staring.”
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 "careful, darling," jungwon drawls, his designer watch glinting under the dim chandelier light. you stumble slightly on the marble floor of his sprawling estate, your hand instinctively clutching his crisp white shirt. his lips curve into a knowing smirk. "getting lost already? my fault, i suppose. i should’ve warned you about the size of the place." his fingers graze your waist. you glare playfully, swatting his chest. "maybe don’t design your house like a maze." he chuckles, a low, velvety sound that makes your heart flutter, before leaning in, his breath warm against your ear. "i could give you a tour, love. or," his gaze locks with yours, "we could just stay here… i’m rather enjoying having you all to myself."
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 "come on, i knew you missed me, baby," riki teases, his grin illuminated by the soft glow of his car’s dashboard as you slip into the passenger seat of his absurdly expensive sports car. his messy hair falls over his eyes, the smirk on his lips entirely too confident as you cross your arms and glare at him. you roll your eyes, tugging your hoodie tighter as the cool 3 a.m. air nips at your skin. “shut up,” you mutter. “kiss me to shut me up, then,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly. "i hate you," you hiss, but it’s weak, and he knows it. he chuckles softly. “and i love you, princess,” he murmurs. 
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viking-illustrator · 8 days ago
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In light of certain recent topics, I’ve been reminded of the 2017 book ‘Norse Mythology’ by Neil Gaiman. It was a nice telling of the more well-known Norse Myths, but there are LOTS of other options out there for people wanting to learn more about Norse Mythology—you don’t have to support that predator to learn about the gods.
Below is a list of some of the other resources that I’ve used. It’s not exhaustive by any measure—just what I’m familiar with and what comes to mind as I sit here at my desk at work. If anyone else has any additional recommendations, please add them to the list!
Norse Mythology for Smart People - norse-mythology.org
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This was where I first started when I wanted to learn about Norse Mythology years ago—I literally just typed “Norse Mythology” into google and clicked the first result like a noob. But this site does a really good job of giving information on a wide range of topics within norse mythology as well as vikings in a general sense—everything from different gods, goddesses, creatures, places, and major stories. It’s a solid encyclopedic source that I would recommend to anyone wanting to get general information on the mythology.
“Norse Mythology: The Unofficial Guide” - https://open.spotify.com/show/7F0tD7bStFIDSVEbsnrxuI?si=8ce8f5ccf3a3417d
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If podcasts are your jam, the best by far in my opinion is ‘Norse Mythology: The Unofficial Guide’. At the time of me writing this, there haven’t been any new episodes for 6 months, but there are 37 episodes that are about an hour each & range on a variety of topics from cosmology to specific deities to stories like Ragnarok or specific topics like runes. It does a fantastic job of explaining each topic in a way that is both thorough and accessible & honestly I can’t recommend it enough.
The ‘Northern Myths’ Podcast - https://open.spotify.com/show/7KtSJb5DTLSwmfj1BPYY5v?si=fcd6c297cdc1463d
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If you want to go deeper into Old Norse texts like the Eddas or the Havamál, the ‘Northern Myths’ podcast is the place to go for a very deep dive/discussion on these texts. The episodes are long and sometimes get a little dry, but they do read these texts directly and then discuss each passage, so it’s a decent place to go for some deep discussion on some of the pillars of Old Norse texts.
Dr. Jackson Crawford - https://jacksonwcrawford.com/
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Most people who get into Norse Mythology/History become familiar with Jackson Crawford pretty quick. He’s an expert specifically in linguistics and the Old Norse language��which includes runes—but he also has extensive knowledge on Old Norse & “Viking” history & culture. He’s previously taught at UCLA, UC Berkeley, and University of Colorado, and now has an extensive Youtube channel. He’s also been a consultant for projects like AC:Valhalla. If you have a question about Old Norse & would like to have a soft-spoken, no-nonsense cowboy in the wilds of Colorado explain it to you, this is your new home.
Again, this is by no means an exhaustive list, but it’s a good start. Please please feel free to reblog with any additional sources you’ve used so we can help new friends learn more!
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starlightsalvatore · 7 months ago
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hunger / damon salvatore x reader
i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol
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hunger / damon salvatore x reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni
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You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.
You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon. 
“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.
“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill. 
“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.
“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.
“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.
“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.
“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.
But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.
He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.
“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat. 
“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.
“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild. 
“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.
“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.
You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.
“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry. 
Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther… 
Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of. 
And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago. 
You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders. 
His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.
His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction. 
You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.
“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care�� not when he felt as good as he did between your legs. 
Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled. 
“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.
He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.
“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in. 
When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.
Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin. 
You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.
His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.
“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest. 
“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.
“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.
“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.
“A trip?” 
You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.” 
“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.” 
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moonstruckme · 6 months ago
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Hi, I hope you’re having a wonderful day, I hope I’m making a request properly as I’ve never done it before but would you write something where reader self isolates whenever she’s faced with conflict? It can be with anyone u write for <3
Hope you're having a wonderful-er day :)
roommate!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 558 words
Two days ago Remus got upset with you for letting your dishes pile up in the sink again, and he hasn’t seen you since. 
You’re so good at avoiding him that he almost wouldn’t suspect it if he didn’t know how you are. You hurry out of the house before he wakes up, and no matter when he comes home in the evenings you’re already in your room with the door shut. Last night, Remus could have sworn he saw your light on through your window as he was coming in, but by the time he got inside there was nothing but darkness coming from beneath the crack in your door. 
There’s almost no trace of you but for the periodic disappearances of your key from its hook by the door. The kitchen is spotless. Remus feels awful for getting so wound up about it. He suspects you’ve been bringing food to your room just to avoid being caught in the common spaces. 
Now, he’s decided enough is enough. 
“Dove?” He gives your door a couple of knocks. “Can I come in?” 
There’s a bit of shuffling around, soft, cautious footsteps, and then you’re opening your door in front of him. Behind you, evidence to his theory: a dirty plate and a glass on your floor. 
“Hey.” Your voice could be mistaken for casual if not for the hesitant undertone. “What’s up?” 
“I’m not mad at you,” Remus says plainly. It feels important to get out there. 
A pause. Your chest draws back slightly like you want to take a step away. “You’re not?” 
Remus can’t help the little laugh that puffs out of him, sad and ripe with sympathy. “No, honey. I’m not. And I would’ve told you that sooner if you hadn’t been hiding. Can we be okay again?” 
You look a short fall from bewildered, your brow scrunched adorably. “I wasn’t hiding.” 
“Oh, come on. Do me the credit of not lying to me.” Remus smiles to let you know he’s only teasing; ordinarily, you’d get there on your own, but considering recent events he feels some responsibility for making sure nothing is misinterpreted. 
When his arms come around your shoulders, you make no sign of displeasure. He holds each elbow with its opposite hand, kissing the top of your head. 
“I’m sorry for acting so cross over something as silly as the dishes,” he says softly. “It was completely out of proportion. You can tell me when I’m being a prick, you know.” 
“They were really gross,” you admit, settling your arms somewhat cautiously around his waist. “You were right, I needed to take care of them.” 
“I never said I was wrong about the dishes.” Remus hopes you can hear the teasing in his voice this time. “Only that I was wrong for getting so upset about them. Don’t hide yourself away from me, okay?” 
Your body relaxes a bit more against his, and he presses another kiss to the crown of your head. An encouragement, if you need it. 
“Okay,” you sigh. It sounds a lot like relief. “I’ll try not to. But you’re not a prick. I’m not going to call you one.” 
“So determined to lie to me,” Remus says fondly. “But fine, that’s up to you. I’ll try to be less of a prick so you don’t have to.” 
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finelinevogue · 19 days ago
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hi!! can I get an azriel fic where he and the reader had a fight before a battle or mission and then she is presumed dead so he spends his days spiraling with guilt and he misses her a lot and that stuff. And then when she makes it back he finally confesses his feelings to her and happy ending :) bonus if she's rhys' sister but not necessary. thank u so much and happy new year!!
please come back
thank you so much for your request - i hope this lived up to expectations since i’ve wanted to write a fic like this for ages 💫
word count - 1.6k
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“Where is she?”
“Az.. We… We don’t—.”
“I said where is she?” Azriel bellowed, readying Truthteller for anything.
Rhys rubbed a bloody hand over his chin whilst Cassian hung his head low.
Rhys looked at Azriel with those deep violet eyes, conveying a whole conversation to him without having to use any words.
Truthteller dropped to the ground.
Azriel followed.
His knees let out an earth shattering crack as he crumbled onto the floor. His whole body went slack, his entire demeanour changing from how he had been seconds before.
How evil a few seconds could turn life into.
“No.” He whispered to the wind.
“Az…”
“No!” He screamed, spit and blood flying from his lips - blood from the battle which he didn’t feel like they’d won anymore.
Why had any of that been worth it?
Days of war and fighting, and for what?
The peace and safety of the Night Court wad restored once more, but was life worth truly living without his person living beside him? He couldn’t even comprehend the thought of figuring that question out.
He could feel the bond slipping away. That once golden-feel thread, rusting and greying away.
Azriel tried pulling on the bond with all he had, whispering pleads under his breath. “Please, please.” He pulled and pulled, but the void when nothing pulled back was too empty to deal with.
“I’m sorry, brother.” Rhys said, kneeling down in front of Azriel. “I’m sorry.”
“Tell me it isn’t true.” Azriel looked from his blood-caked hands and into his brother’s eyes once more.
Azriel’s own eyes pooled with tears. He didn’t think he had any energy left to think, let alone cry and yet the tears would not stop falling.
His body rocked as his cries took over him.
He felt like the world was ending and he was ending with it.
He pulled that bond again, wishing for anything to give him a sign that you were at least trying to pull back - to give Azriel reason to believe you were still there - but all he felt was nothing.
🦇 • 🤎• 🦇
The sun was setting when Azriel woke up.
He sat up in your once shared bed, holding himself up by his hands behind him.
He looked from the setting sun to your side of the bed. He’d set up your pillows so it looked like your body was underneath the sheets. They had dents in from where he’d been holding them at night - trying to replicate the feeling of you.
He can’t believe you were gone.
Azriel took one of his hands and placed it over his heart, tugging at that thread - he wasn’t giving it up so easily. He could feel it still there, only it felt distant. Distant didn’t mean forever gone, though.
And so he pulled.
Every morning - or evening - he rose, he pulled.
🦇 • 🤎• 🦇
“You look…” Cassian started as Azriel entered the kitchen.
Cassian was sat at the table eating some bread and sauce - forever snacking.
“Handsome?” Azriel asked in a teasing voice
“You don’t want me to answer that honestly.” Cassian shook his head, tearing off a bit of bread and throwing it across the table for Azriel to catch.
Azriel caught it with one hand and immediately took a bite from it. It didn’t take an intelligent someone to know that Cassian was just trying to make sure Azriel remembered to eat, seeing as he kept ‘forgetting to’ recently.
Azriel hadn’t attended family dinner in 2 days - the battle having ended 3 days ago.
Cassian was impressed that Azriel was even out of bed - proud, even.
“Answer me this, then.” Azriel counter offered, “If… If you thought there was still a small chance the bond was still alive between you and Nesta, even though she’d… gone, would you pull it? Persue it?”
“Without hesitation.” Cassian nodded.
Azriel nodded in agreement.
“Why—.”
“It’s nothing.” Azriel shook his head, leaving the bread on the table and disappearing from the room once more.
“What a weird guy.” Cassian spoke to no-one as he dipped his bread into a spicy-red sauce.
🦇 • 🤎• 🦇
You looked peaceful.
Madja had dressed you in lilac robes - traditional to your homeland for your upcoming memorial service.
You were lying to rest in a room away from the main part of the House of Wind. You looked so beautiful. Your Fae skin had not yet withered or cracked.
“Hello, my love.” Azriel said, brushing the tips of his fingers over your cheek.
Azriel had been coming down to speak to you every spare moment he had, not wanting to miss a single second he had to watch over you.
“Are you ready to come back yet?”
He tugged that bond and he tugged it hard.
🦇 • 🤎• 🦇
It was the third morning.
Azriel was at his desk, writing away as he often did in the mornings. His diary was the one constant - other than you - that he had always known he could turn to each day.
Now with you gone, he–
Mor burst through the door, panting like she’d run up the steps to reach the House of Wind.
Azriel hadn’t noticed he’d dropped his pen and spilt the ink everywhere. Mor had startled him, but his shadows had calmed him.
Mor caught her breath long enough for her to speak two words.
“She’s awake.”
And that’s when he noticed he could feel it; the bond.
🦇 • 🤎• 🦇
Azriel was running faster than he had ever before.
He sprinted down the halls, apologising when he knocked over a vase but continuing nevertheless.
When he approached the end of the hallway that led to that door, he spotted Rhys speaking to Madja just in front of it.
Azriel slowed down his pace until he was actually apprehensively approaching the door.
He looked at Madja first, needing medical reassurance more than anything. If this was real, how did the Mother pull this off? He would owe his soul for this.
Madja gave Azriel a knowing look that made Azriel want to crumple to the floor and kiss at the feet of the Gods.
Madja, Rhys and Mor stood beside the door as Azriel didn't waste a single moment more waiting behind the doors. He pushed them open widely and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he saw your eyes open.
You smiled at him from across the room and he was done for.
Azriel's shadows went into a frenzy to reach you and you laughed as they hugged and tickled you, moulding around your body in a protective cocoon.
"I came back." You said.
Azriel nodded, not understand how this was even possible. How was this possible? Could Madja even explain this phenomenon?
"You.. You were..."
"I know." You nodded sadly. "I can't imagine how that must have been for you."
"I pulled on the bond every other moment." Azriel walked towards you slowly, careful to tread carefully in case he blurred the dream that he was sure he was dreaming.
"I know." You rested your hand on your chest. "I could feel it."
"You could?"
"I'm certain that you brought me back, Az."
His shadows met back with him but only because he was so close to you now. Close enough to be able to reach out and make sure you were real.
He brought a scarred hand up to your cheek, hesitating in case this was some cruel trick. His hand hovered where he wanted to cup your cheek, like he was internally stuck with choosing what to do next.
"It's okay. I'm here."
You moved for him and pressed your skin into his.
Azriel gasped as he felt how real you were beneath his own body. He quickly brought his other hand to cup your other cheek and greedily bring your lips close to his so he could seal this moment with a kiss.
The kiss poured all of his love for you back into him.
He felt that bond grow tighter in his chest, begging to burst out and fill the room with the endless happy that you brought him.
"You're here." He said between kisses, not letting you go for a moment.
"I am."
Azriel's kisses were hungry and desperate. It was almost like he refused to believe this was real and that he would lose you the moment he stopped. As much as you loved him and his kisses, you did need to breathe and so you reluctantly pulled away.
"No..." Azriel whined, desperate to pull you back.
You cupped his cheeks this time, grounding him to you. "Hey, sweetheart, I am here. I am right here. We have all the time in the world. I'm okay."
"We're okay." And he sealed the fact with another kiss.
🦇 • 🤎• 🦇
"Az, get off!"
You laughed as you tried to push him off of your side of the bed.
"You're too big." You grunted as you tried to move him off you, but he was too big of a lump of muscle to move. Of course you were only struggling to suffer - you actually quite enjoyed the feeling of him on you. If it comforted him then it comforted you.
"I am, aren't I." He said cheekily, like a teen Illyrian.
"Ugh." You rolled your eyes, but were glad to see he'd gotten his spark back. "I give up."
You stayed laid down, Azriel's body completely wrapped over yours and his legs intertwined with yours. His arms were wrapped so snug around you that you couldn't move even if you did want to. Seemed like he was attached to you from here until forever.
"Good." He said. "Now, let's sleep."
He gave one last tug on the bond before you tried to go to sleep and he was only comfortable enough to go to sleep when he felt you tug back.
884 notes · View notes
verstarppen · 10 months ago
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I SAW SMTH ABOUT YOU NEEDING LOGAN SMAU IDEAS AND OH BOY DO I HAVE ONE!! So basically, reader is logans childhood best friend. Always loved gymnastics, and logan always went to all of her recitals and big competitions, and she went to all of his karting practices and races. Now they are grown up and reader is a professional gymnast competing in the Olympics for America, and logan is a professional f1 driver. They are still so close, and they have been dating since they were like 16, but none of the f1 world knows that, they just believe they are friends. Reader manages to get gold at the Olympics so logan does a whole ass simp appreciation post hardlaunching their relationship and giving all of their fans whiplash.
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summary; logan has a very special helmet reveal on instagram to celebrate your olympics gold metal and a scavenger hunt seems like the appropriate way to reveal it to you
pairing; logan sargeant x fem! olympic gymnast! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; girl who starts breathing like darth vader after three flights of stairs: yeah i can write from an olympic gymnast's pov that's fine; i've also never been in japan so pinterest was my best friend here
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liked by olympics, logansargeant, olliebearman and 3,801,506 others
ynusername the feminine urge to walk around tokyo aimlessly
view all 100,844 comments
vertiddieenjoyer your pfp is such a jumpscare please change it
ynusername never. logansargeant Please? ynusername over my dead body
osc_pastry WILLIAMS MISSING IN THE LIKES 💀
olliebearman Congrats on both wins :)
armstrongslayer NAHHHH setbackhamilttel "call an ambulance, call an ambulance- but not for me" julyestie guys stop giggling...we're on a crime scene
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liked by ynusername, liamlawson30, oscarpiastri and 1,400,789 others
logansargeant Thinking of you. Always.
view all 479,007 comments
oscarpiastri How kind of you
logansargeant 😐
roboclaren WHAT WAS THAT....OKAY....JAMES
haas_shaker i too, think of james vowels always forzapluto NOT AFTER WHAT HE PULLED IN AUSTRALIA
bbglewis do you hear that? the sounds of hundreds of f1 wag accounts STOMPING in your direction
mcmango y/n is punching the floor rn
albon_goated oscar too
pierrette girlfriend reveal when
typicallyleclerc It's gotta be that model Caryl Zarubin? Weren't they spotted together at a restaurant recently? lionkingseb no i think he was there with his best friend and she happened to see them and asked for a picture, they don't follow each other on social media or anything like that so it's unlikely typicallyleclerc Ohh, I didn't know that. Thank you.
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liked by ynusername, alex_albon, jv.f1 and 2,870,475 others
logansargeant I contemplated how to word this for a long time, but I finally feel ready. For as long as I have known you, you've been a pillar of hope. Someone I can count on. Someone who tells the bullies off when I couldn’t. The first person I ran to after getting my first win.
To see you achieve something as great as an olympic gold metal has made me eternally grateful to be called yours. I can’t promise a win anytime soon, let alone a championship, but I can promise to commemorate you while there's still a stage light above me.
Your shine is brighter than any star, but I’ve tried to replicate it. Congratulations on your achievement, love. I hope you like the surprise 😉
view all 870,140 comments
ynusername YOU ABSOLUTE SAP
logansargeant For you? Always 😌
alex_albon @ ynusername Am I forgiven? I helped with the design
ynusername some sins cannot be forgiven so easily, alexander ynusername im joking ofc you're forgiven, it's not humanly possible for anyone to stay mad at you for long
feeltheorange oh so they're...oh
albogeant this is so sweet i think i feel cavities forming
redbullpapaya STOPPPPP
mcmango nevermind, it's just oscar punching the floor rn
albon_goated A WIN IS A WIN
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liked by logansargeant, frederikvestiofficial, arthur_leclerc and 3,151,889 others
ynusername more priceless than any medal
view all 1,988,475 comments
oscarpiastri Okay then, give it to me
ynusername fuck off you can pull it away from my cold dead hands
logansargeant Time to announce the best date competition winner
ynusername you have no competition frederikvestiofficial This couldn't have been more fun than the Ghibli museum :( olliebearman you have to be squidding me oscarpiastri Woomp Woomp arthur_leclerc I would've won olliebearman yeah right olliebearman tuna in next time
ynusername absolutely not, im not doing any more side quests
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pic credits; instagram and pinterest
fic-specific taglist; @spilled-coffee-cup @onecojg @cixrosie @sheridamn @namgification @thehufflepuffavenger1 @sxrcxsm26 @mehrmonga @mellowarcadefun
blog taglist; @wtfisakilometer2 @aexitizen-ln4 @localwhoore @onecojg @sheridamn @cixrosie @gulabjamooon @melozyxo @spilled-coffee-cup @biitch-with-wifi @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr @marshmummy @lavenderhazeeworld @ravisinghs-wife @namgification @sheridamn @whatislifebutlemons @demvnsriot @stinkyjax @sxrcxsm26 @beskardroids @tbsloneely @yourmumsdirtysock @elliegrey2803 @mael1pastry @mehrmonga @marymustdie @mellowarcadefun @geniusalpaca
(uni is draining me save me pookies)
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readychilledwine · 1 year ago
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hii!! i’m in love w your writing!!❤️❤️❤️ can i please request one where it’s azriel x reader. Feyre sees azriel wearing a ring on his left finger and asks,
” i’ve seen you wear that ring forever azriel, what does it mean? ”
” it’s my wedding ring ”
and her jaw drops bc she didn’t know he even had a lover.
” who is she? do i know her? what is she like? ”
he smiles faintly and says
” her name is y/n, she’s my mate and wife and she isn’t a warrior like us, she works at a library downtown. you don’t know her, only rhys and cassian do. we have a house in the outskirts in velaris. she is very sweet and i love her more than anything, our daughter is- ”
” YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER ????? ”
he nods and tells them all about her, he asks if feyre wants to meet reader and their daughter and feyre smiles and nods. He asks reader in the mating bond if it’s okay to bring her, nyx, rhys and cassian to dinner. reader says yes and azriel tells feyre he’ll pick them all up tonight before leaving to help his wife prepare. Reader meets feyre and become friends instantly, nyx and their daughter become friends aswell.
” how did i not know this?? this makes so much sense now. How he never sleeps here and he’s gone for days sometimes but not on missions. ” feyre asks rhysand.
”don’t worry i didn’t know for a long time either, Az is a very private person, he is extremely protective of his family. i’m glad he told me at all. either way he’s still a mystery sometimes, i learn new things about him all the time and i’ve known him for over 500 years” rhys says and laughs knowing your perfect for his brother 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😭🥹😍
Haven
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Warnings - none
A/n - I played with this for a while, rewrote it several times, and then made something that met in the middle of what came to mind, but still stuck with the request. Hopefully, you love it, dear 💜
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Feyre had been in Velaris for 5 years. 5 long years and she had yet to figure out why Azriel kept a simple black band on his left ring finger at all times.
The two of them were on the couch, Rhys across from them, as they looked over maps of a few of the Illyrian Camps that had been recently renovated. The new cabins, mess halls, and dorms were a huge success, and figuring out the same layout for the remaining few was a huge topic of interest for the three smaller camps.
She glanced at the ring one more time before tapping it. Rhys and Azriel both looked at her, brows raised. "So, not magic," she muttered to herself. She tried spell cleaving it, "And not a ward or shield."
Azriel blinked at her, brows knit in silent question. Rhys had his hand over his mouth, hiding his amusement. Leave it to his wife to provide entertainment without knowing it was needed. "I-" she sighed. "You wear this ring all the time. I'm trying to figure out why."
Both of the males chuckled. "Probably the same reason you wear your wedding ring, Feyre Darling."
The High Lady made face, tapping the ring again. "Don't be ridiculous, Rhys. I would know if Azriel was married."
"Evidently not, my love."
Feyre and Azriel held eye contact, the male then going back to the maps. "Since I have extensive time in Steppes Peak, I think it would be easiest to move the mess hall here, at the base of the mountain, maintain the warroom in the carved out cave, and build better dorms here," he pointed to an empty part of the map.
Rhys nodded, drawing it out on the empty map he had. "I'm sure y/n will agree with whatever you say."
"Okay, stop." Feyre crossed her arms, pouting slightly at the two of them. "Azriel isn't married, and making up some name to make me feel stupid isn't kind."
Azriel sighed. He leaned back while dropping the scent ward he kept on himself at all times. He watched as her face fell. He knew his scent, chilled air and cedar, was the predominant one in the mateship, but now a soft floral scent, something like lavender and warm honey clung there softly.
"I've been married for longer than you have been alive, Fey." Azriel patted her hand. "I have a daughter older than you and another younger than Nyx."
He watched as her face fell, a small amount of hurt flashing across it. "Why didn't you tell me?" She paused, looking at the sleeping heir in his craddle. "We could be having play dates. I could have a friend who understands."
Guilt settled into his face as he pulled her into him. "I torture people for living, sweet sister. I execute people on your orders. I imprison people with a flick of your wrist." He tilted Feyre's head up. "Y/n has no combat training and refused to learn. She likes to sit at home writing poetry, baking, and cuddling our children. I do not bring her around or introduce them to anyone to keep them safe." His face held the ghost of a rare smile. "I think I've brought her to meet Rhys and Cassian once."
Rhys nodded. "I've met her once here and several times behind your back in town. Especially after my first niece was born."
Feyre kept her gaze on Nyx. "He could have a friend," her voice was distant.
Azriel stood, placing a kiss on her forehead as he did. "I'll be right back." Rhysand's smile grew wide. Folding the maps and putting them away. He moved to the liquor cabinet, bringing down one of his more expensive wines.
Azriel reappeared with you and both daughters in tow. Your oldest ran to Rhys, jumping on him and holding him tightly, her wings fluttering with joy as she did. "Hello, Amara," he nuzzled into her hair. "Missed you so much, baby girl. Cassian is on his way."
He walked with her in his arms to the table, setting the wine down and then carried her over to Feyre. "Would you like to meet your aunt?" She allowed Rhys to set her down and turned toward Feyre.
There was little question she was Azriel's. She was the beautiful artists dreamed of painting. Soft classic features framed with inky black hair that fell in gorgeous curls. "Feyre, this is our niece Amara. She's 56. She was my favorite suprise when I got home from the mountain."
She smiled shyly, keeping close to Rhysand. "Hi."
"Hi," Feyre didn't know what came over her, pulling the Illyrian female close to her and holding her. "I'm so excited to meet you."
Amara wrapped her arms around Feyre, returning the gesture. "Me too. Mom and I have been BEGGING dad for a while. But you know how the bats are."
The door slammed open, rushed loud footsteps and a panting filling the hall. "Where's my baby?!"
Amara pulled away from Feyre, smiling softly before moving away from all of them. She was rushed by Cassian, lifted up into his arms as he spun her.
Feyre looked to her side, noticing Azriel next to her, holding a swaddled bundle. "This is Iris. She's a month younger than Nyx." Azriel wouldn't look away from his daughter and her peaceful sleeping face. "I fear the day she loses her chipmunk cheeks."
Feyre looked around the room, trying to find the reason this was happening and felt her heart shift when she saw you, arm wrapped around Rhysand's bicep, looking at Nyx.
You were wingless, long dark hair braided back. Soft leggings and a sweater that was a few sizes too big covering your frame. Cassian had moved next to you, bumping you with his arm and smiling down at you. "He's so beautiful," your voice was a melody, a soft echo that brought calm to the room. "And so sweet. Look at those rosy cheeks."
Rhysand pulled you away, moving you back to Feyre. He handed you to Azriel, arms out expectedly. "Don't make me command it."
The shadowsinger placed his youngest in Rhysand's arms, hands shaking despite the trust between them, "Be careful with her. Please." Rhys nodded, moving over to Cassian. "Feyre, this is y/n, my wife and mat-"
Feyre didn't allow him to finish, hugging you instantly, tears lining her eyes as she did. "Please tell me we can be friends and cry about our babies together."
"I didn't realize that would even be a question. Of course we will be friends, and of course we will cry about all of the things. Our mates don't get it. Cassian, though, Cassian will join us."
The warlord stuck one finger in your direction. "Let me love them in peace, y/n."
You leaned into Feyre, "Has he cried while holding Nyx yet?"
She nodded. "Oh yeah. Big illyrian baby."
"The worst, aren't they? Rhysand, did you want me to make dinner?"
The High lord looked at Azriel, a small look of guilt on his face, "Please."
You squeezed Feyre's arm, kissing Azriel as you moved towards the kitchen. "You know where to find me if she needs me." He nodded.
Azriel moved to Cassian, watching like a hawk as the general snuggled the small babe in his arms. Amara was sitting by Nyx a look of love and adoration on her face as she sighed.
"She's perfect for Azriel in every way," Rhys stroked Feyre's hand. "I was nervous at first too when he brought her home. I was even more nervous when his fears manifested in the form of being deeply private with her. But she is perfect for him."
Feyre nodded, watching as Azriel glared as Cassian due to the loud squeak his baby had just let out.
"His girls are beautiful." Rhys hummed in agreement. "Y/n is beautiful."
Feyre moved to Amara's side, sitting next to her and smiling as her niece started asking questions.
She didn't realize it until now, but this was the missing piece. The part of the puzzle that had sat empty despite every thing around it being done. You and your girls were that lost center.
Now she just had to convince Azriel to keep bringing you around.
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General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers
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joelsgoldrush · 6 months ago
Text
“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k
logan howlett x f!reader
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SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!
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It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.
“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”
“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”
His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”
“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”
“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”
From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.
At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.
Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 
You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.
That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.
“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”
You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”
“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 
You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.
He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”
One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.
“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”
“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”
“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”
Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”
You’re more than happy to comply.
Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.
“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”
With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”
You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.
After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”
Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”
His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”
You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.
He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”
You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”
His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 
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dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
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haveagarbageday · 5 months ago
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The joy of missing out \\ Lando Norris
summary: You and Lando celebrate your birthday on the same day. While he's planning a big party, you'd rather spend the night on your own. Not like he's gonna let that happen…
additional info: Alpine!driver!reader. Have you heard "The joy of missing out" by AleXa? No? That's what I was listening to while writing this.
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This year you didn’t feel like celebrating your birthday. You just wanted to stay under the warm blanket, binge-watching your favorite comfort show and eating pizza all day.
You weren’t really on speaking terms with your family after a stupid argument at a family gathering last year, and your old friends believed you changed a lot since you joined F1, so they weren’t exactly keen to spend time with you either, especially after you relocated to Monaco like so many of the drivers did. This left you getting more and more comfortable with the idea of being alone, spending your limited free time in your apartment instead of attending parties you were invited to.
On the most recent race weekend though, Lando and Oscar caught you in the paddock and the three of you started chatting, soon being joined by other drivers, and the conversation shifted to Lando’s upcoming birthday. They were planning on partying together, even now they were talking about who would bring who, if they should spend the night at the same place, or move around, maybe heading to the place of one of them.
It was only after a good ten minutes that something dawned on Lando. “Wait, your birthday is on the same day,” he told you, the little light bulb above his head almost visible. “That’s great! You should invite your friends too!” The Brit got excited at the thought, but when he noticed you were just shaking your head, he could tell you would say no to the whole thing. “You’re not planning on missing out, are you?”
As you let out an annoyed groan, the others began to try and convince you, saying it was great that they could celebrate not one, but two birthdays that year, and you were like everyone’s little sister, you were practically family, so this party was mandatory for you. Last year you missed it because you were with your family and friends back home, spending time with them as you usually did when you had the time, but this year it was an open secret that you’d rather retreat into your shell after race weekends.
“Guys, I just… don’t feel like celebrating, that’s all. You all have fun, but you can count me out,” you told them, then said goodbye and decided to go back to the Alpine motorhome to be alone for a while.
Halfway there, you suddenly felt someone put an arm around your shoulder, making you come to a halt to see who it was. You were met by Lando’s shining eyes, the mischievous smile telling you he was here to try and convince you to join them. But instead of giving you a speech full of reasons why you should join them, he decided to start with something else, something a lot more personal.
“Look, I can tell something is wrong. What happened? Last year you spent so much time with your family, your friends, and even with us. Now? Now I can see you getting cozy at your place, ignoring everyone until it’s absolutely necessary to be around people. I’m worried,” he added, and the look in his eyes told you he was telling the truth.
“I’m fine, trust me.” But Lando didn’t buy it, he just rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow, expecting you to finally be honest with him. “My relationships are dying, because apparently, I changed too much since I’ve been here. Why bother?”
Without a proper warning, Lando pulled you into a hug, his chin resting on your shoulder while you relaxed in his arms. It surprised you, but didn’t feel all that bad, to be honest. You’d been craving physical contact for months now, after all. “The party wouldn’t be the same without you. And I was planning to do so much, like getting you to be stuck to me the whole night, dancing together, drinking together, maybe letting me kiss you,” he finished as he pulled back to look at you with a wolfish grin.
To kiss you? That’s what he wanted? It would be a lie if you said you hadn’t thought about this, because there were times when you wished he would do that, but you usually got rid of these thoughts quite fast. It would complicate things, and complication was something you didn’t need in your life now. But God, he was so handsome, and so cute, and so–
Your train of thought was interrupted when you felt his lips on yours, moving slowly to see how you would react, waiting for the opportunity to truly get lost in it. And when you kissed him back, he moved his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair, moaning softly into the kiss. The world around you ceased to exist, and you just enjoyed the moment, completely forgetting that the paddock was full of people who wouldn’t hesitate to take photos of the two of you.
When he finally pulled away to breathe, you gulped and watched him with uncertainty. Was he just playing with you? Or was he serious about this? Oh, why couldn’t he see you as a sister like the rest of the drivers did?
“So, I believe you’re coming to the party,” he spoke up with a smile. “The birthday boy is dying to spend the evening kissing the birthday girl. Maybe even sneaking away to have some fun in private,” he added before giving you a quick kiss again.
“Have some fun in private?”
With a wide grin on his face, Lando leaned closer to whisper the answer in your ear. “I have a special surprise for you. You’ll love it,” he told you in a sultry voice that made you gulp.
Well, it was safe to say he was probably several steps ahead of you in this.
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doreminimi · 19 days ago
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love is blind [Bang Chan One-Shot]
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⋆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! 💕
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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katsukistofu · 6 months ago
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pls write more megumi!!!! i love how you wrote your recent fic ugh hes so perfecttttt
your wish is my command <3 tysm for enjoying sweetheart i’m glad you liked it ! :)
here comes the sun
contents ౨ৎ ⋆ m. fushiguro x fem reader. fluff. ★ car rides are more bearable when they’re with you.
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It’s barely five minutes into the drive and Megumi’s already thinking that Itadori needs to have his license revoked. For life.
His hand darts over to cup the side of your head with a gentle yet firm grip, almost reflexively at this point, stopping you from hurling into the sidedoor after a particularly nasty jostle, for the third curse-forsaken time in a row.
“I think you missed running over a curb back there.” Megumi says dryly in the direction of the front seat.
A cool, summer breeze ruffles his hair as he carefully readjusts your head so instead of lolling to the side, it’s resting on his shoulder. There. That should be much more comfortable for you.
“Hey!” Itadori protests, hands a bit shaky on the wheel. He’s wearing pajama pants with little Spider-mans on them. “I’ve never been in a fancy car without a roof. I’m just getting used to her, that's all.”
“Her?”
“Yeah. Donna.”
Megumi arches a brow. “You named the car.”
“I mean that’s what sensei called her.”
���…Of course he did.”
“Can you two shut up?” Nobara hisses. She’s clad in her own Powerpuff Girl pajamas and Her eyes are still covered by the pink sleep mask that came as a matching set with your pants but you gave it to her instead . “We’re trying to sleep.”
“You are. She’s been knocked out.” Itadori points at you, who’s clinging onto Megumi’s arm like a koala.
“Only because I made sure you wouldn’t wake her up with your shitty driving.” Megumi scowls, curling a protective arm around your waist as the car swerves a little too far left for his liking. His Batman pajama pants brush against your Hello Kitty ones as his thigh bumps against yours, and if you were awake he knew you’d make a joke about them kissing.
“Eyes on the road, idiot.”
Itadori huffs and turns back around to face the wheel. Thankfully you’re still snoozing away, although the way you’re nuzzling into his neck is starting to make him feel a little warm.
Maybe he should have taken his jacket off and put it on top of your blanket.
They pass a herd of cows and Megumi can’t help the upward tug of his lips, remembering your excited squeals when they passed one earlier just an hour ago, chanting ‘Gumi look, Gumi look!’
“I see them,” he had said, more focused on readjusting your seat belt that had somehow unbuckled itself.
With a grin you pointed to a pair that was grazing near a patch of berry bushes. “Those two kind of look like us.”
He finally looks up after making sure you’re safely fastened, hand still softly resting on your waist.
“You’re right, one looks like it doesn’t even know it’s eating grass.”
The pleasant memory of your giggles are drowned out and he narrows his eyes as of course, Itadori and Nobara choose that moment to crank up the radio. It’s a band he never cared for, but remembers the name of along with the lyrics to a few songs because he knows they’re your favorite.
“Turn. It. Down.” Megumi mouths at them, but it’s too late and you’re already starting to blearily open your eyes. The boy that has you tucked beside him sighs in defeat.
On your side of the car, the sun is starting to set and it casts a soft, golden glow like a blanketed halo on your cheekbones down to the tip of your nose, to your cute lips. The rays caress your face in a way he only does in the privacy of his room, with you gently pinned underneath him.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” Itadori grins, handing his phone to you. “Can you check if I’m going the right way real quick?”
You lean forward and blink against Megumi’s strong arm that’s suddenly in front of you, still half-asleep.
“Don’t tell her to do it, dipshit, she just woke up.” He glares at Itadori, taking the phone from him instead and taps the screen a few times. With his head leaning to the other side once he rests back into his seat, he wordlessly makes space for you to rest yours on his shoulder again and you do so happily.
“You were supposed to make a U-turn ten minutes ago.” Megumi deadpans as you yawn, still drowsy from your nap.
“Oh fuck.”
The four of you are finally at the picnic site, after what seems like driving for hours.
“Megumi!” You bound up to him like an overexcited puppy, and he bites back a laugh at your eagerness to show him whatever you found. “Close your eyes.”
If it was Itadori or Nobara, he would have definitely asked “Why?” before they pulled another one of their endless pranks on him but since it's you, he shuts them.
There’s a cool sensation that glides against his ear, and he realizes it’s a petal. You’re tucking a flower into his hair, you must’ve found it under the tree where they parked. His eyes flutter open and he’s met with your familiar, adoring stare that never fails to twist his stomach into knots.
“It’s a peach blossom. Pretty, um, like you.” You mumble, suddenly shy as he gazes down at you with the barest hint of a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
No one’s around, Itadori and Nobara have long gone to find the perfect spot to set down the blanket, and Megumi brushes a quick kiss to your temple.
“Thank you.”
The peace of the afternoon is short lived when he walks with you to meet up with Nobara and Itadori, who have somehow attracted a group of ducks from the nearby pond. One nips at Itadori’s butt, who narrowly manages to dodge it while Nobara is holding her Balenciaga purse high out of the feathered menaces reaches. “Stop that, this was almost two hundred thousand yen!”
Megumi rolls his eyes and barely manages to stifle a snort. He holds your own purse that he’s been carrying this whole time steady for you as you dig into it and whip a paper grocery bag out.
“I have lettuce, don't worry guys!”
His midnight blue eyes glint with fondness as they follow your figure when you bend down to feed the ducks and kindly lead them away from the food that’s sprawled out on the picnic blanket, talking to them like you would with a baby kitten.
Oh he’s going to kiss you breathless later.
Nobara and Itadori nearly fall to your feet. “Our savior!” They cry in unison and you laugh, patting them both on the back. Your best friend then gets up and smacks Itadori with the side of her bag.
“I told you we should have left the chips in the car! Those ducks could have choked to death and it’d all be your fault.”
Your other best friend pouts. “But they were pizza flavored, I wanted to savor them under the flowers!”
“Ew.” Nobara says, already shoving one of them in her mouth, and she holds another chip up to your lips for you to try. “They taste gross, right?”
You chew thoughtfully, and sneak your hand into the open bag to get a few to feed Megumi. “Hm. Could be better.”
“Yeah it's kind of lacking,” Megumi says, his soft lips brushing against your fingers as he takes his another cautious bite.
“Don’t you three say that with your mouth full!”
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So the car got towed.
Gojo’s fuming and Megumi’s pretty sure he’s going to try grounding the four of you, but with a simple bribe of his favorite zunda and cream kikufuku courtesy of your culinary skills his forgiveness is easily attainable.
He absentmindedly wonders if you knead the delicious dough you make from scratch the same way you randomly pinch his cheeks.
The glow of the passing streetlights behind him reflects in your eyes like a thousand tiny, shooting stars and when he looks into them he swears he can see the Milky Way. They’re fighting to stay open after you tiredly slump onto the train’s last empty seat, sandwiched between Nobara and Itadori’s already dozing forms who were scrolling through nail art ideas with you just moments before as he occasionally made comments when you prompted him to, “Would look cute on you” and “That color’s nice” falling from his lips. His eyes soften as he looks at you.
“Gumi…” You softly murmur and his head perks up.
“Yeah?” He leans in closer to hear you, and bites back a chuckle as you mumble something unintelligible. “It’s okay, go to sleep. I’ll stand here and watch you guys.”
“M’kay. ‘Night ‘night, love you.” Is all you whisper before passing out.
“I love you too,” Megumi mutters under his breath, low enough so that it falls on no one else’s ears in the car. You can’t hear him because you fell asleep before you could, but he doesn’t care, he says it anyway and hopes that as his words linger in the air it brings you sweet dreams.
He notices the faint goosebumps on your thighs and takes off his jacket in one swift motion to cover your lap. You’re wearing a shorter skirt than usual today, and like hell he’d let you freeze because of the train’s air conditioning.
His burning eyes flick up from your unaware, adorably blissful face to shoot a scathing glare at the man who’s been glancing your way since you got on the train, and steps closer to shield you entirely from his view. The intimidated stranger looks away quickly, and a small, victorious smirk makes it way across his lips.
That’s right you were his girl, and he’s going to make damn sure everyone knows that.
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